--I am going to Dubai! !!! I can't say why I'm going, but I can say that I'm staying at the Burj Al Arab, the hotel that looks like a big sail. When I'm not watching the goldplated television or lounging on my totally understated bed:



I am going to be riding camels and touring the museums and shopping and skiing indoors at the Mall of the Emirates and--oh hello there, Perfume Souk. Ouds and attars, I'll see you shortly.

--I don't understand you, Jezebel, part 2349: I don't get why the general reaction to Lil Wayne and co.'s song "Every Girl," whose chorus is "I wish I could [have relations of an intimate nature with] every girl in the world" is pearls-clutching, while the general reaction to the Millionaires, whose lyrics include:

Look at that fat slut over there
Her dress is so tight, it's making me stare
She's lickin' on that lollipop with her tongue
So lets just shoot her
With our guns!

is "It's fun!" Yeah, I'm pretty sure neither musical group is that serious about their respective messages and taste is subjective, but still.

--Speaking of things from New Orleans that I love feverishly, the spread of this Brad Pitt For Mayor thing continues to amuse me. I saw Storyville on Headline News this morning!

--And speaking of making it right, if you find yourself in Birmingham and are hungry or want something to do, why not visit the Bottletree? They are lovely people and they put on great shows and have yummy food and oh yeah, they were just totally hosed by City Stages. And for an idea of just how big of a mess City Stages was, see Dennis Pillion for a great postmortem. Finally, here's some excellent advice for putting on a successful festival in Birmingham.

I think it was Thriller. If you didn't own a copy of Thriller--an original copy, on vinyl--whose cover you dragged around everywhere or studied endlessly or pinned to your wall. If you didn't, as a child, dance around your room or your living room to "Beat It" and feel cool. If you didn't see a man moonwalk. If you didn't or didn't know anyone who owned and wore a single glove, preferably a perfect replica--white with silver sequins. If you didn't. But in a few cases, maybe it wasn't Thriller. Maybe it was Bad or even something later. All I'm saying is, if you didn't have a certain childhood memory that you can associate with him, before he was an abstract concept, a tabloid conceit...then you probably can't relate. But for some of us, he was a "strand of our cultural DNA," as John Mayer put it.

Or as Touré said the day of, "If you remember Michael Jackson as a weirdo you didn't know him. There was a long, beautiful, groundbreaking career before all that stuff."

( Read more... )

Meg at 2Birds1Blog has not been thrilled with Meghan McCain since the latter was rude about DC. Things didn't improve when the Blogette blocked the Bird on Twitter.

I've mostly been Switzerland in this, but how do you think I feel about the fact that McCain thinks her age excuses her from knowing about things that happened before she was born?



Hint: It's not favorable.

Meghan, Meghan, Meghan. Regularly, when I tell people that I'm studying history, I hear the same thing, "Ugh, I hate history." While this annoys me ("Oh, yeah? Well, I hate the thing you care about!"), I can understand why people feel that way. A lot of times, history education misses the mark. Too much emphasis is put on rote memorization of dates and names and not enough emphasis on the fact that history is just a story--the ever-changing story of us and our world. The dates and names are important, but they're abstract concepts to describe the real people and the real actions they undertook. But maybe she's right. Maybe we don't need to know about things that happened before we were born. Maybe we don't need to know about the group of men who risked their lives to form a new kind of government. Maybe we don't need to know what happened in France when they tried. Maybe we don't need to know about Gettysburg or Hoovervilles or Midway or you know, maybe we don't need to know about this:



If you're going to present yourself as the new face of anything in politics, you need to cut the shit--yes, even the shit you're getting for appearing on lib'rul programs--and get yourself educated. You don't even have to do the hard research! Knowing about Reagan's time in office should not be the advanced knowledge! It really wasn't that long ago!

Look, you have some good ideas (like everything re: Ann Coulter), but no one is going to take you seriously if you tee-hee about how ignorant you are. As one youtube commenter said, "You waived that defense when you decided you were knowledgeable enough to step in the ring with the big dogs." And just look across the table--there's Katty Kay, who somehow manages to be a beautiful [blonde] woman and to know what she's talking about. I know, it's a struggle.

In other news, how hard do I love Paul Begala, that "mean man"? So hard.

Things I've read, things I've thought, things I've done, things I've bought:

Holocaust Museum Attack Is an Excellent Media Opportunity For Deranged Racists: While you're at it, though, do you mind if I tell you about my interesting ideas on race? Or, barring that, at least let me look respectable in a coat and tie on your air?

I saw a blurb this weekend where the Operation Rescue head compared himself to Nat Turner. Let me just pry my forehead from the desk and say that if you are any abolitionist, which...not, but if you were, you're John Brown at Harpers Ferry getting a bunch of people killed. Now you and Glenn Beck, get back to history class.

Oh and speaking of Fox News, here's Frank Rich talking about the kerfuffle going on re: my bff Shep and his "I get crazy talk!" comments.

An amazing set of photos from the aftermath of the Iranian election.

Polidori Chocolates: Mmm, I ♥ marshmallows. PS: start_0ver, ahem, ahem.

Les Blank, with his documentaries about blues musicians and gap-toothed women, may be my dream man. Too bad he's 73.

Listening to: Lay Low, The Emperor Machine, Dirty Projectors, Passion Pit, Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears, JB Lenoir

Watching: Les Blank documentaries, lots of giallo, American Gothic

Going: To see DRH next week. To lose my mind if my knee doesn't heal right (I injured it in an incident really too unseemly to describe--there was a pop, then an ow. I don't think I tore a major ligament because there was no swelling and the pain subsided within a minute. Nevertheless, I am terrified that something will go horribly wrong).

Thinking about: Going to see Porter Batiste Stoltz in Florida next month. Moving to the city of angels and stolen water.

I love summer. I have a tan and mosquito bitten legs, I watch movies by the pool and read all the time. It's like I'm 12. Er, except for the part where my two biggest concerns are my screenplay and how my tomaters are doing.

Pandadents.

PANDADENTS.

PANDA PRESIDENTS.

I want to crawl inside Alexander Barrett's psyche as if it were a Tauntaun carcass. And that's only the second time I've said that about someone this year, so you know it's love and devotion.

Tala, like many cats, loves to look out windows. One of my bedroom windows, which are floor-to-nearly-ceiling, is open (because it took me days to pry it so and I'll be damned if we're closing it now) and that's his favorite spot to sit. It's eye level for him and there are bushes in front of the window where birds like to stop. Sometimes when he sits at the window, he chatters at outside animals. You can just barely hear him do it, but I always know because I can see his whiskers twitching. And if you look outside, you can usually see a bird or squirrel out there.

Earlier this morning, I looked over and saw the most remarkable thing. There was a bird right outside the window. It must have been on the sill, because it was right there, looking in the window like a teeny feathered cheeping Tom. (Oh yeah, I intended that.) Tala, also remarkably, was at the window but he was looking to the right and hadn't seen the bird to his left, separated from us by only a screen. Then he turned his head. The following is all true.

Tala turned his head and it took him probably less than a second to register what was happening. Then he shouted "Mrow!" in an indignant tone, before hauling off and kitty-punching the screen in front of the bird's face. I don't know if the bird flew off or if there is an unconscious bird lying in front of my window, but the bird disappeared.

That was not usual. [Below: Would do it again.]

I'm making this face, too!-------->

Just doing some more genealogy research and I've found some really interesting stuff. I've managed to trace my family back to the 17th century! In Virginia! I read about my great^5 grandfather, who went to court at 73 to get the pension he was rightfully owed for his military service. The court found that "the above named applicant George VEST was a revolutionary Soldier and served as he states." So I really am a daughter of the Revolution. Oh, but wait.

Going back further, I found some information on his brother James, who seems like quite the righteous dude. On Nov. 14, 1785, James signed a petition supporting separation of Church and State. And then there was his will. After specifying the distribution of his possessions, including his "horse mountain" (I want a horse mountain!) and his "utenshuls," he said, "I do appoint my two trusty friends Thomas Burfoot and Archer Trayler for my Executors to this my last will and testament whereunto I have set my hand and seal this day and date above written."

That's where a light flickered on in my fevered brain. Archer Trayler, one of the trusty friends of my superb uncle (that's gotta be better than great), is a descendant of Christopher Branch II. Christopher Branch's great-grandson was a man by the name of Peter Jefferson, who gave his father's name to his third child, a boy he named Thomas.

Y'all. Now if there were someone in Virginia who would have had something to say about the separation of church and state, I wonder just who that could have been.

So I was doing some genealogical research today. [LOL, "research." *google search*] I found out that the most likely origin of Vest, my great-grandfather's name is Germany. You know...Germany.

A few minutes ago, I was looking up Self, my great-great-grandfather's name. "...a more probable version of the origin of the name, even though Anglo-Saxonized, is that the name stems directly from the Norseman word 'Sjolfr.' This word was variously pronounced as 'saeulfe,' 'saeulfr,' and 'saewulf.' Its meaning is 'seawolf.'"

Now I just took the very scientific quiz, "What animal is your spirit guide?" at Facebook and the result is:

You Are Guided By Canis Lupus: The Wolf
****

[Below: How I spend my weekends, obviously.]


[Buy t-shirt by Fatheed at threadless.]

Also, a charming cover of one of my theme songs:

Unbelievable. Remember that video where Rep. Joe Barton was all, "How is oil formed? How refinery get pragnent?" and Energy Secretary Stephen Chu was all, "Lord, help my time. Okay, so 7th grade plate tectonics..."? This is how Barton saw it:





The video transcript:

BARTON: Dr. Chu, I don't want to leave you out. You're our scientist. I have one simple question for you in the last six seconds. How did all the oil and gas get to Alaska and into the Arctic Ocean?

CHU: (Laughter.) This is a complicated story but oil and gas is the result of hundreds of millions of years of geology and in that time also the plates have moved around. And so, it's a combination of where the sources of the oil and gas ...

BARTON: Isn't it obvious that at one time it was a lot warmer in Alaska and on the North Pole? It wasn't a big pipeline that we've created from Texas and shipped it up there and put it under ground so we can now pump it up and ship it back?

CHU: No, there are continental plates that have been drifting around throughout the geological ages.

BARTON: So it just drifted up there.

CHU: Uh.... That's certainly what happened. It's a result of things like that.

WAXMAN: The gentleman's time has expired.

1. Did I ever tell you how I got into massage? It is a very heartwarming story. A friend of mine was thinking about going to school for it and I read her brochure and thought, Well, there's an idea. The end. I've never really felt a calling toward any particular field. I mostly want to dance and hang out. I love American history and the idea of teaching it, but the realities of the American educational system are hard to ignore. I'm not saying that I have eschewed the idea entirely, but just that every time I tell people I'm majoring in history, emphasis American, and they say, "Oh, you're going to teach?"--I'm full. No more for me, thanks--I'm full. However, I think I've found the career that combines many of the things I enjoy, such as putting things right that once went wrong (they're not hiring at the Quantum Leap project, unforch) and raging patriotism (I took the inner nationality quiz on Facebook and I'm secretly an American*). And that is, the Bureau.

Me: I'm going to apply to the Bureau.
My mom: What bureau?
Me: The politburo--I'm going into Russian politics in my time machine.

Or not. I think I'm going to apply to be a G-Lady. I say "think" because I still have to finish school and who knows what number of ideas I'll have by then ("This is too hard. Let's quit and be firemen instead"). As I said, the job--I'll be applying to become a Special Agent--appeals to me on a number of levels, like its insistence on "rigorous obedience to the Constitution" and the chance to use my most unique skill set--the fact that because I'm small and giggly, many people underestimate me. They don't realize how juicy my mind grapes are, such as. Osama bin Laden, I'ma get my mind juice on you! (I am considering entering as a language specialist, specifically Arabic. So if anyone asks, don't tell them about that time at Bible camp.)

2. I've watched some movies lately. I watched S. Darko and...hmm. Maybe if there were no predecessor, I would have liked it better, but as there was a Donnie Darko, it's hard to judge S. Darko on its own merits. The fact that DD creator Richard Kelly had nothing to do with the movie is problematic to say the least. Further, as it's impossible to take in the movie without thinking about the first movie's mythology, the more you think about S. Darko, the less sense it makes. And the ending was just nonsense. Upside: I really liked Daveigh Chase's wardrobe! Sidenote: Is it true that her name is pronounced more like "duvet" ("Duh-Vay" as her wiki entry says) and not like Davey? I don't know how to feel about that.

I also watched the Norwegian horror about Nazi zombies, Død snø. [Below: I don't like this vacation anymore.]



Død snø, which focuses on a group of students on holiday at a ski cabin who inadvertently wake up some nasty spirits, was much better. It's funny, scary, and gross (there's a scene involving something utilized as a rope that I'll bet people will be talking about). It was interesting to me how it was obviously influenced by American movies--as seen in the trailer, one character even quotes, in English, Indiana Jones's "Fortune and glory, kid"--but the way the characters react to certain situations is different, I think, from how they'd react in an American movie. One example: When the random old dude shows up to lecture them on how they're spoiled brats who didn't bother to notice that the territory they're in was a Nazi supply stop, one of the characters can't help but get sarcastic about the possibility of waking up the Nazis who were trapped in an avalanche during their occupation. Random old dude grabs the kid and the rest of his friends suddenly become very interested in their shoes. In an American movie, somebody would have called the old dude an asshole, at least.

That's not to say that the characters are pushovers. It's noteworthy that this is a movie about Norwegians facing off with Nazis--La Résistance gets most of the ink, but Norway had a healthy resistance movement as well. In fact, when they first got their "On the occasion of your being occupied" note from the Third Reich, Norway's response was basically, "Fuck your face." [History pedant: *monocle adjustment* Actually, it was "We will not submit voluntarily; the struggle is already under way."] The progeny of the Norwegian resistance puts up a worthy fight as well. The character Vegard is a notable standout at this--watching him go full survivorman is awesome.

As an aside, imdb lists the following as a goof: One of the zombies...is wearing a white (snow) camouflage jacket. The jacket shows plastic parts (or is completely made out of plastic) which can only be found at modern day jackets. Maybe the zombie took it away from a earlier victim but as all the others wear "original" war gear this is supposed to be a WWII Jacket - and is way too modern. I know that logic is pretty rock-solid, but I don't agree that the jacket is a goof. The jacket doesn't just look a little bit modern--it is totally modern. I was wondering why homes was wearing a hazmat suit when he first walked into frame. He obviously stole that from a victim or the movie's wardrobe department thinks we're morons.

2b. I also watched Fox's Glee and loved it.

3. As I mentioned a few days ago, I went to see Man Man and it was awesome. I'm having trouble finding the right way to describe it (mind grapes are dry), but watching them felt inspirational. When Honus Honus climbed up on something (I couldn't see exactly) and pulled on a lady's beaded top midsong, it was a beautiful thing. I felt like I could go anywhere and do anything. I wanted to go home and paint and write and do. I wanted to go create. I've never felt anything like that when seeing a band before. I've got to see them again.

4. And one last time, thanks again to everyone for their condolences regarding my grandmother. I really am doing okay, but thanks to everyone who just had to make sure.

5. Finally, before I go watch Martyrs so I can feel ways about things with Jess, here is a collection of random things I've been looking at:

MTV's new show Fashion Strip--am I the first to make a "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?" joke?

Awkward Family Photos: Oh, man.

It's Lovely! I'll Take It!: Like Cakewrecks, but with real estate listings.

2 Birds, 1 Blog: Few people have the ability to make me laugh like Meg. I tried to read this entry to my mom and sister and couldn't get through it without laughing until I cried.

*“You are highly competitive and highly independent, although you also have an easygoing and spontaneous nature. In order to hide and mitigate just how badly you want to win, you have developed a thick veneer of friendliness — in order to lull your opponents into a false sense of security, yes, but also in order to actually tame your own natural blood lust, and most of the time it even works. Because you are so mobile and ever-changing, your friendships are always in flux, and the people who are your oldest friends may or may not accompany you all the way through life. Probably not.”

But first, thank you so much to everyone who has been so kind in light of my grandmother's passing. For those of you who have asked, I'm okay. I feel sort of weird, like I'm not grieving as much or the way people think I should. But the thing is, since it started getting really bad, like within the past year--I've already done that. I've already been through those stages, processed those thoughts. Dark nights of the soul? I've had them. Dark knights? I saw them. This is not to say that I'm not grieving, more like I have grieved and now I can't help but feel...light. And I can't explain that in more detail without sounds like the world's biggest asshole but hopefully, you'll know what I mean.

As always, you can email me for e-hugs. If you need to give e-hugs, see zooby. She loves 'em! My phone and I are currently separated--I bought a cheapo Blackberry off eBay to use until the G2 comes out in a couple months--so for the next few days I can't get texts. And that's that. Now I will write about other stuff.

So that was Mrs. Lundegaard on the floor in there. And I guess that was your accomplice in the wood chipper. And those three people in Brainerd. And for what? For a little bit of money. There's more to life than a little money, you know. Don'tcha know that? And here ya are, and it's a beautiful day. Well. I just don't understand it.

Honorable bad mother mentions: Mrs. Iselin, Jules Winnfield, Shaft.

Woke up with a swollen eye and chipped tooth--ahem--and not feeling up to anything more intellectually challenging than enjoying SNL, watching movies (at home!*), and thinking about this new Eminem album. I'm very nervous about it. The Marshall Mathers LP is one of my favorite albums and everything I've heard from Relapse has been whelming at best. However, despite the fact that I'm feeling all out of sorts, I'm going to attempt to write my Man Man recap.

*I was planning on seeing Star Trek at the regular theater here, but a Facebook friend reviewed the Imax version so I checked and yes! It's showing at the Space & Rocket Center. So I'm seeing it there. I will probably go Monday because I am currently a monster.

Back when my grandmother was in the nursing home, we'd go to visit and we'd usually have to pass this 104-year-old woman who'd sit in the hallway in her wheelchair. She was always saying all manner of odd things when we passed her. My mother was carrying a honeydew melon one day and the lady said, "I remember when they killed one of those behind the barn." Ohhhkay. Well, one day I was walking by and she said, "That's the one right there. She changes into a wolf." First I was like, that was weird and then I was like, how does she know?!

So today at lunch, my mom busted out the news that our family name was not always Moon. It was shortened from Moonblood. No one who knows why is alive anymore, but I can venture a guess. Moon is an ambiguous surname. Possibly English, possibly mutated French. Moonblood, on the other hand, is totally not. Knowing what I know already about my family history and whatnot, I think the conclusion is obvious.

I'm probably a werewolf.

PS: I did a surname search and found one listing, for a S. Moonblood in LA. I think I actually found myself in the future.

Why--what have you heard?