"I'm so tired of being good."
My journal is about anything and everything in pop culture, with occasional musings about my semi-charmed kind of life. If you are offended by
cursing, nudity, and hipster bashing, I suggest you click the little "x" on the top right of your screen and get the hell out of here.
COMMENT TO BE ADDED.
...onto my NEW BLOG.
No, I won't abandon this old thing (how ever will I get my ohnotheydidnt fix?). However, I do consider blogs to be more "user-friendly" and accessible to the general, non-LJ obsessed public. So a blog it is. Also, I just started it five minutes ago, so look out for new content!
Content will be same old, same old: movies, music, fashion, obsession. It'll be double the pleasure, double the fun. I'll still use this journal so don't delete me. I repeat, DO NOT DELETE ME.
I don't consider myself an expert in the horror film genre, but I pride myself on at least seeing the classics (Rosemary's Baby, Night of the Hunter, Halloween), the underrated ones (The Wicker Man, The Thing), and movies that normal movie-goers haven't even heard about (Cannibal Holocaust, Mother's Day). I'm a big fan of all forms of horror, from psychological to slasher to thriller to gore to plain, schlocky B-movie thrills. My favorite horror movie of all time is probably Stanley Kubrick's The Shining because it combines so many of these elements: for the blood-happy, there are the ax scenes; for the ghost fanatics, the creepy hotel montages; for that one dude into twin fantasies, there are those two creepy little girls dressed in blue (their picture is too terrifying to post, so if you don't know what I'm talking about, Netflix that shit).
The Shining, to me, is probably the creepiest film I have ever seen. Let's begin with the fact that I grew up in hotels, and then take into consideration my fear of (and fascination with) the paranormal. There's one scene in the movie that I think should go down as one of the scariest in celluloid. Forget Jack Nicholson wandering around in a snowy maze trying to kill his own son -- let's talk about that scene in which a frantic Shelly DuVall is going down the stairs and looks into a room only to see a dapper hotel guest receiving a blowjob from a guy in a bear suit. They both look up from what they're doing and stare at her creepily, neither uttering a single word. It's always the unexplainable and totally bizarre that gets me.
So, it comes as no surprise that I'm a fan of Eli Roth. When I saw Cabin Fever (2002) on cable one night, I was excited because I'd heard so many good things about it. "The Return of the Good Horror Flick!" proclaimed one article, while another declared it was "the new Texas Chainsaw Massacre." Roth's film certainly had an interesting premise: young, horny campers go up to a lake only to contract a flesh-eating virus and die one by one. It was the kind of thing that sounded right up my alley, and the scenes of a teenage girl shaving her legs only to find out she was actually shaving off mounds of flesh were certainly enticing. Plus, Cabin Fever differentiated itself from other teen horror movies because it had some funny, droll elements in it: there are hillbillies, some guy dressed in a bunny suit, some karate-chopping kid, some weird talk about pancakes. It was all over the place. While Cabin Fever didn't live up to my expectations (let's face it, nothing can top Texas Chainsaw Massacre as it is the most perfect horror movie ever made), I kept my eye on Eli Roth. He has the right stuff.
When the Quentin Tarantino-produced Hostel came out a few years later, I knew Roth had arrived. Here was a little film made for a couple million that grossed all its money back and then some. I loved it because of the notion that people can just get lured into these murder-for-profit secret societies and find themselves being tortured by wealthy businessmen, just for kicks. I don't know what that says about me, but all I can say is I was screaming and cheering by the time the movie was over (the ending is deeply satisfying). I have not yet seen the sequel, which is out in theaters today, but I'm sure it'll deliver the goods just the same. I can't wait to see the castration scene!
When people dismiss the horror genre as the most troubled, saying that there is no "perfect" horror movie, I am very confused. What would constitute the "perfect" horror movie? To me, a good horror movie is 1) scary 2) disturbing and 3) one that shows on-screen what you can't see (or won't bring yourself to see) in real life. If it's a gory movie, there should be a good balance between internal and external terror. I don't get off on blood just for blood's sake -- there has to be something deeper and more interesting involved.
It's a shame they're remaking so many good horror movies (The Omen, The Hitcher, Psycho), but some remakes I have really enjoyed, such as Zack Snyder's remake of Dawn of the Dead (2004) -- it was hilarious, beautifully filmed, and fucking bloody and scary as hell. It added a new dimension to the original, which is what a remake, at the very least, should set out to do. All in all, a good time at the movies. And just remember, when somebody slags Eli Roth off for being "all guts and no substance," any horror director worth his salt is there to entertain, and entertain well. Be it Hitchcock, Spielberg, Lynch, or even budding little Roth, they just want to show us a good time.
Naomi Campbell is one fierce mama, and if anyone can take an assistant down, it's her. She's just like I am when I'm dancing - lip-syncing all the words, pretending I'm in Vegas when I'm really in my living room, et cetera. You go, girl.
"The good and the bad. Nobody has it all together, so let's not pretend."
Beth Ditto of The Gossip is on this week's cover of the NME magazine. Barely a few days old, the image has already created quite a stir over in gossip communities like ohnotheydidnt and even daily newspapers and TV shows. I must admit, when I first saw the cover, I was a bit ruffled by it. My issue wasn't so much that Beth Ditto is overweight and on the cover of a magazine, but that we're supposed to "kiss her ass" just because she's doing a supposedly radical thing, when to me, it really is the same thing as putting a starving Nicole Richie naked on the cover with the same kind of "EAT THIS" attitude. Why do we praise one and criticize the other? Furthermore, I found it degrading that she had to pose nude. Nevermind that she's overweight and we're more accustomed to seeing bikini models on the covers of magazines -- why do females still feel the need to use sexuality as some form of power? Why do they think they will only get attention when naked? Sometimes it's entertaining, as in the style of sleazy Terry Richardson photos, and sometimes it is necessary and even beautiful and artistic. But this is a music magazine, and we're talking about how "cool" Beth Ditto is. Is she only cool because she is always taking her clothes off and telling us to kiss her ass, because people wouldn't expect her to say and do those things? It just screamed "bad taste" to me, and not the loveable John Waters kind. It just seemed all shock and no substance.
However, the issue isn't as black and white as "Beth Ditto is gross" or "Posing naked on magazine covers is gross" or even "Posing naked on magazine covers when you're overweight is gross." I can see how some people would admire it -- heck, even a part of me is amazed she has the balls to do such a thing. You gotta respect that, and I'm glad she has so much confidence. At the same time, I just wish she didn't feel she had to stoop so low to get the attention she deserves just for being her and being a great frontwoman of an interesting band. That's the real press she should be getting, not that she's fat and strips to her skivvies during concerts. Doesn't she see the NME is basically using her to sell more copies? They don't really care about the sort of "statement" she is trying to make, or even about her music. If they did, they would've just let her pose in normal clothing -- unless, of course, the naked thing was her idea.
Then again, I always think, why do I find it okay when I see Iggy Pop stark naked on the cover of a magazine? I don't think he's degrading himself at all; I think he is being a total rock star. His music is sex, so it is only natural for him to be the living, breathing embodiment of the carnal act itself. Why do I not care when men appear in various stages of undress, but feel somewhat disappointed when a woman - regardless of her size - feels she always needs to be the coy little girl hiding her boobs while simultaneously untying her lace panties? Don't get me wrong: sometimes I like to see nudity in magazines, especially fashion magazines. I think the female form is beautiful, and I totally geek out over all that sleazy Victoria's Secret, Playboy bunny stuff. However, I feel that when you're a female musician who is trying to sell first and foremost her music, nudity is not only besides the point but completely unnecessary. I am always juggling between two beliefs: 1) that nudity is unnecessary and 2) that nudity is the ultimate "fuck you," a true mark of rock & roll. I think I will always see-saw between the two.
Regarding Beth's interview, I haven't read it completely yet, but what I have read I liked. She seems like a very grounded woman and a good friend. I also admire how passionate she is about gay rights (she's a lesbian and is dating a transgendered individual who was born a woman but identifies herself as a man). She's obviously a tough cookie, and her opinions are well-researched and eloquently stated. She makes good points about the "pretty face" backhanded compliment (you know the one -- "Oh, you have a pretty face... (Too bad about the body)"), dieting, and the whole "please others to please yourself" machine. Being a girl who has struggled with weight all my life (and still go through it sometimes), I'm proud that Beth is out there shedding light on matters that are often completely overlooked in the fat vs. skinny debate. Sometimes it's not just about thin being right and fat being wrong -- what happens when you're chubby, even obese, but you're still proud of your body? Are you wrong for thinking that? Must you conform to what society says all the time, just because it's easier that way? The interview made me think, which is rare in this day and age when articles are usually all about kissing the artist's ass and inserting a few of their soundbytes in-between. Definitely a must-read.
Julian Casablancas has a sit-down chat with Debbie Harry.
ATTENTION, STROKES FANS:
The new Strokes official website is up! The TV set is gone and a snazzy new space console is in its place.
Also, to satisfy your eye candy quotient, an alternate video for "You Only Live Once" can be found HERE.
I know that Warren Fu, the director and webmaster, spent hours slaving away at all of this and I think he did a wonderful job! Enjoy it.
It doesn't take a highly perceptive person to see that I'm obsessed with Hollywood. By that, I don't mean that I read tabloids, follow Nicole Richie, or anything like that - I genuinely care about good films and fresh, new talent.
I grew up watching actors like Leo DiCaprio and Reese Witherspoon blossom from indie darlings into box-office players and critical successes. Now I get to see the same thing happen to kids I've been familiar with since their days on the Disney lot -- the Joseph Gordon-Levitts, the Shia LaBeoufs, and the Lindsay Lohans (okay, maybe not the Lindsay Lohans, snicker). It warms my heart to know that should Johnny Depp be off in Barbados making Pirates of the Caribbean XXV, Ryan Gosling can just take over. I'm not one for living in the past, and I'm getting very tired of actors playing their personas to death (I'm looking at you, Al Pacino). It's time for a new class to take over.
Thankfully, it seems like a promising bunch.
LOOK OUT FOR PART TWO OF THIS POST, IN WHICH I PICK THE CREAM OF THE LEADING MEN CROP!
Anthony Kiedis and current girlfriend Heather have got a lovely bunch of coconuts...
My love for all things Kiedis will never wane. I just unsurfaced a most dazzling Chili Peppers clip that brings AK's gripping autobiography, Scar Tissue, to life in a big way. You see, in early chapters Anthony vividly describes his punk-rock girlfriend Jennifer Bruce, a Los Angeles club rat who, in his words, "could out-Gwen Stefani Gwen Stefani."
Well, watch what happens in this next clip: During a 1980s performance of Jimi Hendrix's "Foxy Lady," twenty-something Anthony is straddled by a female fan wearing a trenchcoat (and not much else). He, being Anthony Kiedis, kindly accepts the foxy lady's feminine charms. This causes an enraged Jennifer to storm onstage and BEAT BOTH THEIR ASSES.
ANTHONY KIEDIS GETS SERVED
Damn straight, Jenny ain't no hollaback girl! And my, my, I've never seen Anthony look so sheepish. I love the look on Flea's face at the end. Lulz all around.
The fug was definitely on the loose at the Met's annual Costume Institute Gala.
I will do a bigger update when I have more time, but for now I leave you with the face of fashion evil, Kiki Dunst:
And the ugly doesn't end there. Just wait till you see her dress!