Wednesday, March 30

spring break!

it's spring break AGAIN. (good lord, how many spring breaks do the elementary and secondary schools of the ann arbor school district require!? this is the second in so many months. if this keeps up i will never convince myself to quit and get a real job.) it's lovely outside. i've been walking places. ann arbor is finally waking up. the smell in the air is soft, wet, and warm. i bought a grape hyacinth and everything.

and i feel like i've been hit by a truck. it figures. the first really warm days and i have the cold to end all colds. i am seriously thinking of putting the vacuum to my nose and just emptying myself of all the snot so i can go play outside. it's supposed to be 70 degrees today!!! aaar *cough cough* rrrrgh.

so my freak-out for the day deals with my first 9-5 job opportunity with benefits. i applied to work at the Ann Arbor Observer. i wrote a damn fine resume and cover letter. i dressed appropriately. i handed everything in on time. so why haven't they called me!? i followed up with an email and still nothing. they said interviews were going to start today. dammit. many of the things i want in life are silly and frivolous, but this seemed like a really good idea, and i did everything right. come on, fate! not that the Observer is exactly my dream job. but anything that will give me an excuse to quit Emerson is a good thing.

maybe i'll try going for a walk. every time i stand up i get dizzy. dammit!

aaron was here this weekend. it was AWESOME. i miss him a lot, but it felt so natural to be back together, and it felt the way those friendships with lifelong friends feel. we spent a little time catching up, but most of the time was spent just hanging out. we had an amazing evening walking from my apartment to the michigan theater and caught the end of Born Into Brothels which was really inspiring and sad and wonderful. and beautiful. and i wore my awesome new sunglasses (as karl put it, they are the 80-est sunglasses ever) (they have since shattered) (piece of shit urban outfitters sunglasses). it was just so redeeming to know that i have such a dependable friendship, even if we never get to see each other. this is the first time i've seen him since germany. that's like two years. like whoa.

mle and i might get a radio show next year. sweet.

ugh. i should do the dishes or something. i am such a homebody. oh, gods of sunshine, please forgive me--i promise i'll frolic when i can walk two steps without having to hack up a lung.

currently spinning: "kicking TV" by wilco
current mood: feisty, congested

Monday, March 14

when the sun turns straight or cold/and the all the trees are shivering in the naked road/i get the urge for going/but i never seem to go

so i know i said i would continue to explore the idea of violence as a form of revolution, and i have to say all of your comments really inspired me to think deeply about that topic. it's something i have always thought about, and i appreciate your insight (especially the comments from people with whom i almost never discuss philosophical things) and hope that you'll believe me when i say i will revisit this, i promise. but not today.

so...post vagmons. i have been pretty relaxed lately. it's cool because i worked all spring break and i totally exhausted myself, but i scored some major points with my bosses so now i can take lots of time off as my schedule fills up again. soon the next rudolf steiner play will start up again (twelfth night!) (you know what is a funny word? twelfth. fucking weird.), i'm beginning the first stages of midsummer night's dream (the play i'll be co-directing with an rc professor, to take place outdoors in the arboretum in june), laramie is fucking finally getting off the ground (goes up easter weekend in the rc), and my birthday is coming up this weekend!!

22, man. whoda thunk it. i would have never thought i'd be this old. i mean really. actually, it's cool though. for the longest time i was really stuck...i kept thinking i was still 17. but now i feel solidly on my feet and in my twenties, and i am embracing getting older. i still feel like i need to leave ann arbor. and i am...in august. damn...that's many months from now. crap. emily is in europe and i am soooo jealous. i really want to go somewhere but i can't afford anything. this is what i hate about getting older: you can't afford jack shit and you realize all those people telling you to enjoy yourself in your youth and not to worry about the "real world" were just trying to live vicariously through you and now are sitting back and laughing at you being broke and lonely still in your hometown. hmph. i need to find someone to live vicariously through, i guess. no no--i mean i need to save money. right, that's the ticket.

i've been sitting on my red couch all afternoon messing around with my mp3s. it's been a long time since i actually thought about my music, really filing it away and categorizing it. i used to do that all the time and i haven't done it in a loooong time. well, i spent about two hours today renaming songs and making sure the album names were spelled correctly and i found i really missed it. i can't believe i never worked at wcbn. speaking of which, i have to say, the rachel's show at the art museum fucking rocked my socks. it was so awesome. anyone know that band rachel's? buy me an album for my birthday. vinyl only please--i am expanding my record collection.

all these songs keep coming on that are so significant to my thought process right now. papa was a rodeo by the magnetic fields, urge for going by joni mitchell, it ought to be easier by lyle lovett. man. does music control my life or does my life dictate my music taste?

recent additions to my music library:
brian eno, here come the warm jets (chris--they finally restocked it!)
nomo, nomo (went to this concert on friday at the pig by myself--rocked. then went to the bang on saturday and still had my wristband and stamp from last night and the bouncer looked at me like i was such a stupid party girl and i just grinned stupidly and headed for the bar)
a.c. newman, the slow wonder (yeah, it's like sooo last year...but damn good nonetheless)
arcade fire, funeral (bought it on vinyl it was so damn good)
"signs" by snoop dogg feat. justin timberlake (oh man this song is awesome...so dancetastic)
chris bathgate, silence is for suckers (check me out performing with him on saturday in the arena theater at 11 pm...free)

ok that's all. i should do laundry or something. i started fiddling again. oh how i missed music in my life.

do i swear too much?

currently spinning: the velvet underground, all tomorrow's parties
current mood: ready for action

Thursday, March 3

is violence ever acceptable as a form of revolution? part the first.

so, i'm no scholar, and this is not going to be a very well-thought-out entry. bear with me, though. it's something that i think i need to try to put into words.

so, che guevera is awesome, right? he's a hero of the people, goes the legend, a freedom fighter, a revolutionary that inspired millions, who called for a unified nation an end to brutality in south america. that's what i know about him, pretty much the sum total of what i know, actually. i also know one quote, written on the side of the wall backstage in the rc auditorium, and also given to me after i participated in a play called information for foreigners, written by an exiled playwright/activist about the desaparacidos in argentina in the 70s. the quote is this: "let me tell you, at the risk of sounding ridiculous, that the true revolutionary is guided by the greatest love."

so all that would lead me to believe that he is a fabulous guy who died fighting for what he believed in. he's an Aurelio of Garcia Marquez. he's a stand-up guy.

so when i heard about The Motorcycle Diaries, i was excited. plus the scenery of south america has always been extraordinarily beautiful to me. i studied mexican culture when i was in seventh grade. the incans and the aztecs totally fascinated me. it was really more native cultures in general, i.e. the people who were here before the english and the spanish. my ancestral family is from illinois, right near the famous cahokia mounds, which bear a striking resemblance to many of the temples erected in south and middle america. and having read neruda and garcia marquez, i had been imagining the landscape for so long i was really excited about actually being able to see it in what was supposed to be an extraordinary cinematographic experience.

and boy, was it ever. god, was it beautiful. i walked out of that movie feeling moved and changed. i was so in love with guevera, so trusting of him. if the man himself had walked into that theater as the credits were rolling and asked for new recruits for his revolutionary army, i would have been the first to volunteer. granted, the movie wasn't really about guevera as a revolutionary, but rather it documented most of a road trip he took when he was in his early twenties. it was supposedly, according to his diary, the trip that inspired him to do what he did. he was planning to become a doctor at the beginning, planning to return to his family at the end of a few months on the road. but instead he stayed in the north, set up a headquarters, and started a violent revolution to overthrow the military government, which resulted in him being placed before a firing quad and shot. he was in his mid thirties.

now, read this article.

did you read it? at least skim it?

ok then.

a great friend of mine, with whom i am in sporadic contact with, due to my being an ass who never responds to emails, sent me that article, with the hope of inspiring discussion. in that spirit, i am posting it here. what do you all think? did you see the movie? did you think about the things stated in that follow-up?

i have to say, i had my doubts about the movie. i have doubts about anything that is one-sided (which, for all its beauty and profundity, the movie pretty much was...although it was based on his diary, so go figure) and that presents one person as being almost godlike. which the movie absolutely did. there a scene where he swims across a river in the middle of the night to be with the lepers on the other side after making an inspiring speech to everyone else about the direction of the nation and the work they are doing. and everyone is just looking at him like he had a halo, their faces are shining, and then he just walks out and jumps in the river. i'm not saying that didn't happen, i'm saying the way it was presented left no room for us to say, wait, um, you just jumped in a river, you nutcase. all we can do is shake our heads and marvel at his devotion to the less fortunate. and they are whom we think of at the end when the credits roll and the "over the next ten years..." phrases pop up. it's the devotion that his friends have for him which accentuates the feelings we as viewers are supposed to be feeling. his friend has tears in his eyes when guevera leaves him at the end, and so do we. so, in a way, i did feel manipulated. it's one thing to watch a movie about someone's life that really fills in the gaps in an objective way. for example, i think The Aviator did a pretty good job of presenting howard hughes alternately as a genius and as a very sick man. and that movie ends with him being sick, not with sweeping justifications and epic music and sunsets. he fades into darkness alone and crazy. whereas with The Motorcycle Diaries, guevera was not a flawed human being who did some great things. the movie just reinforced the belief that Che Guevera Is A Wonderful Revolutionary Hero.

now, to the most important question here: is he? was he? does he deserve the credit we as a country give him, with our t-shirts and bumper stickers and flags hanging above dorm room bunk beds? more fundamentally, is violence ever acceptable as a form of revolution?

i'm running out of time to blab on and on about this. i have to go to work. so let's let this be part one. i'll change the title. there, now it says part one. now we can come back to this. in the meantime, leave some comments, let me know what you're thinking.