Friday, March 1, 2013
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Monday, February 25, 2013
In the city that never sleeps there is a former NYPD cop now facing 20 years to life. He was caught planning to savagely kill his wife by hanging her upside down and bleeding her out as well brutalizing her friends through rape and torture. Let's not forget that other detail which was researching ways to cook them and eat them. NYMAG came up with a bunch of possible New York Post titles for the course of the trial I guess. There are some really good ones.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Moonrise Kingdom soundtracks. One out of an infinite amount of reasons why music and the arts should always be encouraged by societies, not repressed and cut out out of public funding.
Before I forget the evening, I'd like to recount it. It started out as a quiet night that included a performance in an East Village theatre by three Asian American women as well as one Korean American man who sought to illustrate life, death, and the role of women in shamanism within Asian-American/Asian culture. My father had suggested I meet with Victoria, the Taiwanese-American director and actress responsible for "Big Flower Eater"'s production. The play scaled between spiritualism, christianity, ghosts, folklore, ancient korea, the lesser known history of taiwan, the hmong in thailand, as well as dinky east village apartments all in the span of an hour. To say it was ambitious is to disservice the true meaning of ambition. These are all loaded topics in their own right. I, for one, almost never go to theatre as well as hardly read books unless it strikes as a superficial "must read" chord with me. At 28, I really feel to experience theatre is partly 40 minutes seeing an old woman in a faded blue yankees cap fall asleep in the first row, and partly seeing an entire theatre of 50+ people riveted by the next unexpected incorporation of unique, traditional live Korean music in a low budget production. Which of course the latter and former were experienced here.
After an exceptional and thoughtful presentation of certain Asiatic cultures, the lights came on in the theatre signaling it was time to leave. My friend and I waited to greet Victoria, who directed and acted in the play. It was because of her personal research of the Japanese occupation in Taiwan which led her to my father in Taipei. This meeting would later compel my father to urge me to come see her play.
Very soon after the lights came on and people began to shuffle out in a hurried fashion, an older white lady approached Victoria on the exit stairs. Under her hunched posturing, she said something to the effect of " Hello! I enjoyed your play- I just played Mah Jong tonight!" This is pretty ironic and funny considering almost nothing about Chinese or Cantonese ( Hong Kong /Guangdong ) culture was mentioned at all; except to signify historical timeline references. And while Mah Jong may be found in parts of Korea and Japan, let's not lie to ourselves as Americans- the Chinese brought it over. But anyway- I guess it's easy to confuse these technicalities when you are an older white lady sitting in an hour long play about Taiwan, Korea, and Hmong culture. Perhaps I take my own experiences for granted. This woman eventually disappeared out the closest immediate exit.
It wasn't until a minute later another lady descended from the theatre stairs to congratulate Victoria on an excellent performance. As I had mentioned there were three Asian American women in this play. While this middle aged lady dressed in a multi colored South American styled beanie came up to Victoria, she also decided to congratulate me on a job well done. I started laughing because it was so fucked up. I started to step back down the stairs because it was so funny to me. The irony stabbed at me while my voluminous wool scarf muted my laughs. She obviously confused me with these Asian American actresses. There were three Asian female faces on stage and maybe 4 in total in the audience. The probability was obviously stacked against her. As much as I might have taken from the play, it was then I realized that you could be dropping a truth bomb on people and they are still truly mentally asleep.
Look, over time and experience, it becomes not as big a big deal when people blow it so hard. Whether it's about race, culture, habits or me telling you to take your damn shoes off at my house for the 10th time. Hey, at least these ladies were stoked on the show- that should count. What matters is that people do try. They might not be perfect but they still try.
Which is exactly why there was a guy that thought I would make out with him later in the evening which I am skipping to. He had weird cowboy boots on and I was like...... you're fucking kidding me right? Fuck douche bags with terrible shoes. I didn't say that but I did say he had weird brown cowboy boots on. He admitted it but immediately got drunkenly offended and told me that since I was a shoe designer I should be wearing "cooler shoes". My friend asked if he had actually looked at my shoes to which he blindly said yes. I took my left boot off for his further inspection. He took my boot and violently threw it on the ground to tell me they were ugly. Then he asked for a kiss in front of my friend. He obviously didn't know who he was fucking with. That weird financial analyst from Florida is dead now. Just kidding. But he is dead in my mind and that's all that really matters these days.