A Bowl of Stupid

So, needless to say, we’ve been making some minor modifications to the site recently. It’s not that I really wanted to (hell, I’ve barely anything coherent to write about anymore), but due to software incompatibility issues, I was forced to upgrade my version of WordPress.

I’m still checking out the new application, but I’ve already had to make some formatting changes and there may be more. If anyone is conversant in WordPress 2.8 or higher and has any suggestions re: themes, widgets, and any other neat stuff that’s been released over the past … oh, say four (4) years or so, please lemme know. (and for Sasquach, you’ll be happy to know the latest version has an auto-save function, if you’re in the mood to do some guest writing — ‘cha!, as if!).

In the midst of all these formatting and software changes, I somehow managed to fit in a few of the movies that came out back in the States over the last several months. And while I was disappointed with a couple of those flix — Up In The Air & Where The Wild Things Are being the biggest of them — I was absolutely overwhelmed by yet another — 500 Days of Summer.

From what I’ve read, the movie has gone from media darling to industry goat in only a matter of months. I’m no longer back in that scene, so I’ve no idea how or why the hipsters have reacted to this movie, admittedly geared directly towards their dilated pupils.

The reaction, like the audience, is reminiscent of the response following Zach Braff’s Garden State. Each of the two movies do admittedly follow the love lives of a couple of 20-something neo-hipsters, they both make use of absolutely remarkable musical soundtracks, and both feature the locale as much as the characters (New Jersey and Los Angeles, respectfully).

But from there, the comparisons begin to slide — at least in my mind. Whereas Garden State got bogged down in trifling melancholy and predictable plot development, Summer instead plotted a truer course — mostly due to its beautiful screenplay and the charisma of its two leading actors, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel.

Their portrayal of what happens, not what movies tell us should or do happen, but what ACTUALLY happens during the course of a relationship is not something I recall seeing in a movie in recent memory, if ever. I’ve been in situations where each of the two of them were portraying in the movie — and I felt as if it could have been my life being depicted onscreen. That is art. That is talent. That is relating to your audience. That is how to properly tell a story — by letting your audience feel as if it were their own.

For me, there are much bigger forces behind my particular attachment with the movie, which I really don’t feel like going into at the moment. But I feel the need to post at least one more song from (and artfully used in) the movie — Regina Spector’s Hero. Unless something significant comes up in the interim, I’ve no doubt I’ll post more in the coming days.

(photo c/o Andrew Sullivan)

Like CNN, I too have conspicuously avoided writing about the Iranian election debacle and resulting demonstrations. However, I’d like to think that my reasons for doing so are far nobler than the simple neglect shown by CNN’s and the remainder of the mainstream media.

And once coverage actually began in the mainstream media, instead of covering the actual events on the ground, ironically, much has instead been made about how the Obama administration should continue to handle the situation. Many pundits (on all sides of the political spectrum) are claiming the President should lend more vocal support to the protesters.

Personally, I disagree.

Although the cause may indeed be just, it’s not America’s role to engage in internal Iranian politics at this stage. Indeed, in this case, discretion is the better part of valor. The New Republic, of all places, has an unusually coherent editorial in this regard:

the Obama administration has to be very careful about backing, or even placing great hopes on, someone like Iran’s Moussavi and even on his impassioned followers. If we are seeing the beginning of another revolution–or structural transformation–in Iran, it is worth remembering that before the dust clears on this events, Kerensky can become Lenin and Bani Sadr can become Khomeini.

Personally, I hope the violence ends soon. And I also hope, like many Iranians do, for change. The Iranian people deserve it.

However, regardless of the underlying causes behind what is now happening on the ground in Iran, regardless of whatever personal attachments or feelings I or anyone else outside Iran may have to same, and regardless of how the international community chooses to react, what is now happening is the province of the Iranian people. Moreover, it is one of the most important things taking place in the world right now. And it should not – cannot - be dismissed.

I would suggest everyone keep up with Andrew Sullivan and other non-traditional media sources for updates.

With an area of just over 5,600 square kilometers (just over 2,170 square miles), the island of Bali is fairly large — nearly 10 times as large as Manhattan. And three decades ago, the Balinese economy was largely agriculture-based.

But now, tourism is the largest single industry. And tourist season is in full swing.

So, in addition to the 3.1 million or so natives, the 1 million or so other domestic workers (from Java and other islands), there are about 2 gazillion tourists roaming the streets, clogging the roadways, and otherwise kooking up the surf. And while it’s good for the locals (they need the tourism money) and it’s nice to see the new faces (sorta), it’s also still getting just a bit much for me.

After one of my good friends broke her leg in 2 places this week when she got hit by some kook on a motorbike, and after I went surfing out at Uluwatu’s a couple days ago with about 100 (no joke) of my closest ‘friends and family’, I remembered my initial plan when first moving to Bali — I wanted to use this island ONLY as a supply point and a ‘stepping stone’ to those other spots in Indonesia I TRULY love.

So I’m going someplace a bit calmer for a while.

First, I’m heading to Dili (East Timur) for a visa run, then I’m going back to Pulau Rote — about 1200 square kilometers, with an estimated total population of 100,000.

The village where I’m going (pictured above), there’s no internet, no running water, and the electricity is turned on for about 6-8 hours per day. The tourist population is limited to other silly foreigners looking for surf and quiet. And there’s not much to do besides surfing, sleeping, and the occasional jalan-jalan to the next village.

Hold all my calls, I’m gonna be off the grid for a while.

I’m in Coolangatta (Gold Coast), Queensland, Australia.

It’s been about 1 and one-half years now since the last time I was in a Western country. So yes, I am feeling very much like an Amish kid on vacation in the big city. But regardless, today was an absolutely awesome fuckin’ day:

• I am in an English speaking country again.
• I can drink water from the tap again (an added benefit, considering a bottle of water costs 3 freakin’ dollars).
• I’ve been hanging with my good friend all day again.
• I bought a sick new surfboard (a 6’4″ Darren Handley, cuz apparently surfboards are the ONLY things cheaper here than in Asia).
• I watched the Quiksilver Pro Gold Coast, the first stop of the 2009 ASP World Pro Surfing Tour.

And, most importantly:

• I ate real cheese for the first time in almost 2 years.

Yes, I’ve still got an extreme case of culture shock. But the cheese helped.

I like it here very much. I really do.

Ever since I was in university, I’ve had glorious plans on visiting, or even moving to, the ‘Commonwealth of Australia.’

Indeed, one of my friends in Uni (actually a girlfriend of a friend) went to high school in ‘Oz’ and her stories about the place always evoked the grandest (albeit absurdly typical) visions in my head — the vast outback, long white beaches, and the great barrier reef.

It was always one of my primary goals to visit Oz when I first left the States for Asia. Hell, up until just a few weeks ago, that intent was still stated in the sidebar of this blog.

But somehow I just never got around to it — after reaching Asia I could never quite leave, and there are so many great Ozzies I’m friends with who either live or keep returning to Indonesia and Thailand that I never really needed to visit them on their home turf.

But finally.

Finally. Tonight I booked a ticket to Oz — I leave from Bali on the 6th of March, 2009.

My plan is to meet up with friends in Byron Bay, then down to Sydney, then back up to the Gold Coast, and then hopefully to visit a friend down in Melbourne.

I honestly don’t know if that schedule will hold up, nor do I really care at this point.

I understand it’s pretty expensive down there in comparison to Asia. And that the summer season is actually winding down a bit. And that, in many ways, it is very similar to the States.

But I really don’t care about those things right now.

I am truly excited again. Excited to be visiting friends. Excited to be going to some outstanding world-class surf spots. And overall, just excited to fulfill a dream that has been pending … left on hold … for so long now.

I’m finally going to Australia. Hell yeah!

“Few players recall big pots they have won, strange as it seems, but every player can remember with remarkable accuracy the outstanding tough beats of his career.”
–Jack King, Confessions of a Winning Poker Player

There are no nice ways out. Not really.

Even now, almost 8 years later, I can remember with clarity one particular moment of realization.

I had been with my then-girlfriend for several years and our relationship was in the final throes of a long, slow death rattle. And we were going shopping, or to the movies, or off to do some such random shit. And as we were walking down the stairs from her apartment to my car, I realized that, although we were still technically a ‘couple’ … I was alone.

There was just nothing there anymore. Whatever had been was gone. And I was on my own again, for better or worse.

I’ve had similar epiphanies over the years — with respect to both friends and intimates — and for some reason those times seem to be the ones I tend to recall with the most clarity.

Based on (among other things) many of your recommendations, I decided earlier this week to follow up on the spark I found on the beach in Vietnam last month.

So I’ve been in Brunei for the past several days visiting my princess before she goes home. And for a variety of issues — many of them mine own — those days unfortunately contained far too many uncomfortable moments than I care to recall.

It sucks not being able to make things work out the way you want them to.

So this morning, as I was walking back to my hotel after having just made travel arrangements to leave Brunei for my next port of call, I had a distinct sense of deja vu.

Despite still being in the company of that beautiful princess I fell in love with back in Vietnam, I was once again on my own.

Once I made that realization, I was (and am) actually okay with it. It just is how it is.

But fuck man, it’s been so long since I put my heart into someone or something to the extent I have these past weeks — even when I went to Boston for KB a couple years ago. I didn’t realize until it was already done just how much I had pinned onto this one person all my hopes for stability — which I guess have been building over the past several years now.

It just gets so tiring sometimes, tho. It’s tiring carrying the entire load of everything alone all the time under my particular circumstances — constantly moving, the cadre of ever-revolving friends, not having a home … everything.

I really thought I didn’t need anyone’s help.

Apparently I was wrong. And I didn’t even realize just how wrong until my unconscious pressed the issue — one which would not have otherwise existed in normal circumstances. I just wanted someone to help me take care of things a little bit, y’know?

It was unfair and inappropriate to look for that — especially from someone on holiday. But sometimes you can’t see these things from the inside looking out. And while I still don’t think I’ll be able to look at pictures from Cambodia or Vietnam for a while without a little bit of my heart breaking, I can tell that I’m alone again.

And the worst part is that, if the past is any indication, despite the amazing time I had then and there, I will most likely recall most vividly only today’s walk back to my hotel.

Okay, help me answer me these two (2) questions if you will:

1. Is it silly to try and paint Obama as a “cult of personality” when 56% of the American people selected him President in one of the world’s most historic elections?

Probably. People worldwise are truly inspired by Obama, because they believe he’ll bring about much needed change to the U.S. and to the rest of the world, regardless of his overwhelming popularity.

2. That being said, it is silly to paint Obama as a “cult of personality” when people have already started using his celebrity status to sell CONDOMS?

Probably not, but I’ll be able to formulate a better opinion after they release those “Obama/Che Guevara 2012″ t-shirts.

P.S. I love the tag-line for the condoms — “Use With Good Judgment”. Fucking hell, doctor heal thyself.

Okay, after taking a sabbatical of several months and inadvertently deleting all of my prior blog entries (not necessarily a bad thing), I’ve cranked up the motor and recommissioned this blog site. I’ve tweaked the style a bit and added some functionality behind the scenes. Ironically, however, I haven’t much to say right now about anything in particular. Anyone who knows me will know that will soon change.

That being the case, I’m planning on posting regular filler in the form of my favorite music videos. Back when I was first attempting to do this in earnest, I initially got this idea from a blogger up in New York, Chez at Deus Ex Malcontent.

Nice kid.

He used to work with my sister at one of the television stations down here in Miami, and he’s got the same inane fascination with obscure cultural references as I. However, he exhibits a set of writing skills which I sorely lack. I highly recommend you visit his site.

That being said, given my lack of originality – and motivation – I’m also going to post the video he had on his site that first prompted me to borrow this idea, “Home” by “Zero 7.” It’s one of those videos rarely publicized in the mainstream American media, and dates back to Zero 7′s more ambient electronica stage. It features the vocals of Sia, who I think has one of the most mesmerizing voices since Beth Gibbons of Portishead.

Hey, you know what they say, good writers borrow, great ones steal.

Alright then, to anyone playing along, keep in touch, and don’t mind the commercial interruptions.