Sci-fi

I love sci-fi movies, I really do.

From the unbearably classic Blade Runner, to the dark Minority Report, from the Alien quadrilogy (or at least the first two) to Alice in wonderland in fancy leather coats, sorry I meant the Matrix, sic-fi movies make me cringe. Perhaps it's this archetypical fear of the unknown, the worry that death will come from above, from outside and not from within. Perhaps it's the dystopian future, that I adore in literature too (1984, brave new world, never let me go etc), I don't know what it is, just sci-fi fascinates me.

So, even Oblivion, which is not great, and whose script, as correctly pointed out in this Guardian video review, is a massive mishmash of other sic-fi references (a little bit of Matrix meets Mad Max meets Alien meets Ghost in the Shell meets a bit of Lost meets the Truman show meets of course a bit of Oedipus Rex -- every movie needs a bit of Greek tragedy, no?), I actually enjoyed. Tom Cruise is as stereotypical as it gets, and the storyline did have to get explained to me, but the questions the movie poses have been and will always be important: what makes us human? What makes a being a man, and not a machine (alien, clone or whatever)? Is it our subtle love for literature -- as it also happened in the "humanisation" of the Stasi operative in the lives of others? Is it just our inquisitive nature -- you know that when Vicky says "I don't want to know" that she is lost for ever? Is it simply our ability to love?

Oblivion does not pose any new questions, all the above, we've heard it all before. But isn't it worth it hearing it again, especially with such a beautiful set as a backdrop? 

The Godfather

Welcome to the world, you might tell me, but I watched the Godfather movies this week, for the first time ever. I know, crazy, right? But there is something to be said about leaving gems to be enjoyed later in life when you have a bit more brain to enjoy them. Or at least that's my excuse.

Every time I watch (listen to/read) a masterpiece, I think of my time wasted reading/listening to/watching utter and absolute shite. Truly a waste through and through. People tend to think (me included) that "light" movies/literature etc are good for one's tired mind, they take no effort and they are essentially harmless, a good time-passing device. But they give you nothing, NOTHING in return, that's the problem. Just wasted hours and a nagging feeling of annoyance.

Movies like the Godfather, now that's another story alltogether. The story, the subtlety of the "take home message", the acting, Pacino, my god Pacino is amazing. His face doesn't move. And yet he resonates pain.

I think I've heard somewhere that Michael Corleone reluctant ascent to the top of the Corleone family, in the first movie is akin to Hamlet's indecision to do what is expected of him in Shakespeare's classic. Two anti-heroes, one fate. To me though, the second movie, Michael's paranoia, total ruthlessness and utter descent to hell is really what turns this story into a masterpiece. Ah, and of course Robert de Niro's amazing performance in the parallel narrative of the, much less conflicted, Vito Colreone.

I don't have a lot more to write, besides what is there more to say about the Godfather. Only take home message from me (mostly to myself if to anyone) would be just to stop watching trash and focus on the masterpieces of this world. And there are plenty.

A good week

I am having a good week.

Like a really good week.

I wake up happy.

I am not stressed.

I feel normal.

Rare but nice and as such it needed to be commemorated through this banal post. 

Goodbye

I like to think that I avoid too personal posts, but then again isn't everything we write personal? And who knows me out here on the wild wild web anyway?

But I just feel the need to write it today: my grandma died this afternoon. She was 93, and had a happy life. I never really really loved here, but today I cry. I cry because my father is upset and because she suffered when she died. I cry because we saw her over Christmas and she looked so so old.

Apparently, she had everything ready for her funeral, in the chest at home she had her clothes ready, and everything she wanted us to put with her. We had never opened the chest until now and today I asked my mother what was in there. She had a little dress she wanted to wear; my grandfathers two sets of glasses, and her wedding crowns.

That's a blessing - choosing what to take with you in the other life, no?

She didn't come to my wedding this summer and she got so upset. In Christmas we gave her a picture of our wedding day, and she said "my children, you look grown up".

People say funny things, in poignant moments. Movies want us to believe that people actually manage to rise up to life's big occasions, but in end, sometimes, people just say funny things.

Cheers to the dead, then, today. To my grandmother and my cousins, wherever they are, if they are anywhere anyway.  

The Forest (instead of something else)

Today I woke up and I realised that I've missed listening to the Cure - random or what? And not Friday I'm in love and other overplayed pop anthems, but the moody, atmospheric dark gem that is A Forest.



When I was young, I think I was listening to the Cure when I was 16 - 17, I used to dream that I would make a video for that song, with the camera close to my face and me trying to go through a crazy rain forest (and not managing).

Anyway, I wanted to write about the linguistic brilliance of Lance Armstrong's "confession" to Oprah (truly an exercise in indirectness, I need to give it to my students), but that will have to wait. It was definitely much easier to reminisce about the Cure this morning: I'm lost in a forest, all alone... 

Lucky 2013

No end-of-year posts. No best-of lists. No favourite movies, or books, or music. I tried to think, but I couldn't even think of something I really liked this year. Sad or what?

Now that I think of it, I did like Coriolanus by Ralph Fiennes, but I can't remember to write anything about it. And I liked Cararcho with my new favourite Ricardo Darin. And I liked Rust and Bone, with the gorgeous Marion Cotillard.

But of course this is not what posts are about, posts are not lists with links to youtube clips. I read my old posts and they have something to say (hopefully; sometimes) lists don't.

I don't know why I have grown out of it, writing posts that is. Perhaps I am busy, perhaps I don't have a lot of time to indulge on useless blogging anymore. I waste my time on Twitter and Instagram instead.

The biggest problem though is that I am not too inspired anymore. I don't have any interesting thoughts about things, or if I do (when I am lying on my bed at night, finally thinking of something) I can't be bothered to get up and write it. I am severely worried about my lack of quiet time, where I am not glued on my iPhone, browsing something utterly useless on the internet. I want to stop it, I don't want to be that person, but I just can't get around to it.

I don't know what 2013 will bring to me. I have no New Year resolutions. I would like to be more frugal, more stoic, less consumed by things and useless internet surfing. I would like to be this thoughtful, clever person that writes interesting posts, not the person that takes narcissistic pictures of herself and posts them in Instagram (that might sell my pictures without asking for permission...).

Can I be that person? Have been trying for a while, but definitely haven't managed yet.

But here's to another year; here's to another try. 

Who I'd like to be

All my life I've had these deep struggles with some aspects of who I am. Although I love myself (I think, I hope) I've also always been hopelessly upset with some aspects of my self, always wanting to be someone else.

Two specific examples deserve some elaboration.

I'm a hopeless shopaholic of the most ridiculous kind. I own millions of clothes and shoes, and I keep buying constantly. I like expensive things, and I also have a propensity of buying the same thing in slight variation over and over again (I think this latter is called Repetitive Shopping Syndrome or something like that, you know owning 10 million black t-shirts, grey skirts etc). I go to the shops once a week easily, also buying online at a good rate on top of that.

However, I've always wanted to be frugal, live with less, be philosophical and not care for material things. I like reading, I believe in education and I am annoyed when people judge others based on looks or other superficial things. Especially now with what is going on in Greece, I have this profound feeling of guilt as I keep spending money on shit, while my family, my friends have very very little money to live by.

My other characteristic is that I am the anti-poker face. My face always betrays what I really feel about people, situations etc. This is especially apparent in meetings much to the despair of my boss. I cannot hide my feelings, and as I often say, I have no diplomatic bone in my body. I say what I think in an awkward and un-polished way that always gets me into trouble.

On the other hand, I've always wanted to be blasé. I've always loved those heroines in the cinema that show no emotions and go about looking unimpressed. My husband is the definition of unimpressed-ness and (bizarrely) I always tease him for it.

When I thought of those two things, I felt very odd. Why have I not yet managed to understand, and accept myself? I like clothes, so what? I know it's not great, and I'd really love to be able to be frugal, but what can I do? It's who I am. I can try to be good and ethical on top of that, not instead of that. These things are not mutually exclusive.

In any case, I don't know how to end this post. I've just be thinking about all these things for a while and wanted to write them down.