I'm experimenting with different themes in this blog. One option is to have numerous blogs, each with its own theme. But I keep coming back to the same underlying theme.
And that is that ugly is not an option. It really isn't. Not for me. Not anymore. And I'm really certain that ugly is not an option for you either; especially when there's instruction and perhaps inspiration for getting out of ugly. Thus, I'm amalgamating all these different themes in the same blog.
The theme written extensively already I call Beauty Matters. It’s about the politics of appearance. Our physical looks have a tremendous impact on our life. Beauty sets the trajectory of our lives. How that goes is determined by how people perceive us.
If others enjoy looking at us, we enjoy ‘the kindness of strangers.’ If not, then our lives are littered with shame, regret, and limitations. Exceeding our limitations is beauty’s greatest gift to us. Often, knowledge of being beautiful and enjoying beauty is a gift by other women for us women.
One theme involves one of my best friends who's morbidly obese. She's considering gastric bypass surgery, something I'm wholly supportive of to the point of being with her during her surgery. She will write anonymously in her own voice. I'm encouraging her and hope you do, too. She may write about her personal experience through her own blog. We'll link to hers if so.
Another theme is the travails of women everywhere, thin and fat. Often we make excuses for our personal failures by blaming our weight. Yet, when thin and fat compare notes, it's the same disappointments, upsets, and even devastations. Weight has nothing to do with it. What then? If we can't blame our personal plight on weight, then what can we blame? Simply, it’s a culmination of all our own decisions. This theme we blog as Phat Gurl and Skinny Byotch.
Another theme is what I call Economic Exiles. This is about our quest to find meaning, purpose, and beauty in what can only be admitted honestly as a fully compromised existence here in Exilestan. The economy changed, this we know. You would have to be an obtuse idiot not to know it. The questions we probe are: In what ways have we compromised our values, our integrity, our self in this new economy? In our new reality, who are we and what have we become?
As a part of that theme, I'm writing about my move from Midtown Atlanta to Northwest Arkansas. I'm a career Navy Brat who's grown up in Europe and Asia, and on America's East coast. Yet, of all the places I've lived, never have I experienced more culture shock that here. As if the the company I moved here for isn't shocking enough, it's the small town living in Flyover Country that got me.
Struggling to make the most of it, at least until this blog pays for itself; I surround myself with beauty as best I can. All those efforts I'll capture here and share with you. I will share with you my beautiful balcony with luscious plants, including many herbs and my tomato plants. This includes my weight loss of 20 pounds and 10 more underway. The wonderful food I buy at the local farmers market.
It is my reclamation of my health and my happiness. All of it written for you. If I can find happiness and healthiness here, by God, so can you. Wherever you are.
I'm also pursuing a theme about Middle America Beauty. Every single beauty product and beautiful lifestyle apparatus I will find at Walmart. Whatever I can't find there will be purchased online, at Target, or at local shops. Despite being in BFE (Bum F*ck Egypt), we do have mail service however compromised it might be. I'll give you links and referrals to everything I find and do myself. If I can create beauty in this utter abyss, then so can you, wherever you are.
Another theme is what I call The Office Hottie. You know that one woman at work who's so beautiful, so magnanimous, so influential? The one who makes other women step up their game? Now suddenly the dowdiest of hens loses weight, wears makeup, attempts heels, and dons stylish new apparel? Yeah, that girl. The one who commands a conference room full of married men at her beck and call - even the gay ones, despite not saying a word or holding an esteemed title? Yeah, that girl. She's The Office Hottie. She's me. And she's probably you.
The Office Hottie: Mentor mentors a beautiful new intern. All the advice she gives this lovely young woman so new in her professional life, you're now privy to. Everything's covered. This includes what apparel to wear and where to buy it. What to look like and why. How one can maneuver through corporate corruption and careerist deception. All the advice I got from my amazing mother I give to you. And all the things I learned the hard way along the way, I give to you.
Additionally, I'm creating videos showing how to do beauty treatments and beauty routines. I'll post those videos here and on YouTube. In my blog, commentary and links to any products you can buy shall accompany my videos for your reference. The videos are my biggest gamble because it's real and honest and very, well, potentially embarrassing. Whatever you think, please don't be embarrassed for me. I'm a professional writer.
I've exposed myself intellectually, socially, and emotionally in a myriad of ways. It has always cost me my job running my editorials or publishing my books. But if I can't be authentic now with nothing more to lose but a shitty job in BFE, otherwise known as NWA, who am I really and what purpose do I serve here on earth? It can't be to be a wage slave as a corporate drone, however impressive my accomplishments and extensive my resume. Even if it were so, I am not satisfied.
That's the thing. We fight like hell to save our job. Save our marriage. Save our home. Save our ego. We do it because we must. It's the right thing to do. It's what good people do. And we're good people. But we fight for what, exactly? We can always get another job. Another man. Another place. Another image.
At some point, long after going for broke - and actually going broke for it - we say forget it. Give up the fight. Sacrifice its artifice. Let go of the lie. Perhaps then, there, we find beauty. Because honestly, ugly is not an option. Not anymore. I've had enough of it. It no longer satisfies me. Nor does it you. This I know. The rest, we'll figure out.
The Greatest Lovers Love Great Woman
The best lovers are Italian, Latino, and Jewish men. This for one reason. With intensity, fervor, and devotion these men love women.
Beautiful women.
Bountiful women.
Passionate women.
Strong women.
Real woman.
Look at their mothers, the matriarchs that they are with doting sons and husbands. Their cultures celebrate them, as well they should.
Their sons want to marry a woman like their mother. Not for her cooking or cleaning, but for her force of personality and dedication to family.
Not so in America where beauty is dangerous. Beautiful women are gold diggers not to be trusted or bimbos not to be bothered with.
Pity. For these are weak women. And they go unloved. As for their lovers, they go unloved, too. How can they not be?
Weak woman produce weak men who then become lame lovers. We know them as wayward sons and lonely husbands. Tsk, tsk, tsk. So not lovely.
Beautiful women.
Bountiful women.
Passionate women.
Strong women.
Real woman.
Look at their mothers, the matriarchs that they are with doting sons and husbands. Their cultures celebrate them, as well they should.
Their sons want to marry a woman like their mother. Not for her cooking or cleaning, but for her force of personality and dedication to family.
Not so in America where beauty is dangerous. Beautiful women are gold diggers not to be trusted or bimbos not to be bothered with.
Pity. For these are weak women. And they go unloved. As for their lovers, they go unloved, too. How can they not be?
Weak woman produce weak men who then become lame lovers. We know them as wayward sons and lonely husbands. Tsk, tsk, tsk. So not lovely.
Erectile Dysfunction is Personal, Not Cultural
There's a serious problem that's kept as an open secret. Sexual dysfunction is relegated to a personal problem rather than a cultural problem. The jig is up. The johnson is down.
The proliferation of promise rings, Viagra ads, and birth control options mislead us as to the magnitude of the problem an entire population spanning many generations experiences.
Our divorce rate is 0.40% (higher still for subsequent marriages). The only moral way for ongoing access to sex is through marriage, nearly half ending due to sexual dissatisfaction, citing money issues as the less embarrassing culprit.
The proliferation of promise rings, Viagra ads, and birth control options mislead us as to the magnitude of the problem an entire population spanning many generations experiences.
Our divorce rate is 0.40% (higher still for subsequent marriages). The only moral way for ongoing access to sex is through marriage, nearly half ending due to sexual dissatisfaction, citing money issues as the less embarrassing culprit.
The Office Hottie Is Truth In Advertising
Having worked in corporate America for eighteen years now, I have a good idea how hard it is to earn a buck and harder still not to get ripped off by shoddy service and inferior products.
Also, I don’t trust full-time writers at beauty magazines because they are so far removed from us, their readers. They get free services and products gratis.
As for us peasants? Two hundred plus either sales tax or hefty tips for a few hours of looking decent before the heat, rain, or traffic weathers us.
For one good hair day, there’s no bank of professionals editorializing ‘the look’ of the moment. Instead, harmonic convergence occurs and lo – no frizz.
Or maybe, God don’t deceive my eyes, a blooming zit in the middle of an impossible to squeeze spot on the cheek is for once absent.
Wait a minute, the clouds part and the sun shines on what appears to be a dimply-free backside from butt to knees.
Hurry up! I need to get laid before the clock strikes twelve and my carriage turns into a pumpkin.
Then hair frizzes, zit surfaces, dimples appear (and on the arms), ten pounds suddenly pop up and a herpes sore breaks out on the corner of rapidly deflating lips.
Where are the professionals now?
Also, I don’t trust full-time writers at beauty magazines because they are so far removed from us, their readers. They get free services and products gratis.
As for us peasants? Two hundred plus either sales tax or hefty tips for a few hours of looking decent before the heat, rain, or traffic weathers us.
For one good hair day, there’s no bank of professionals editorializing ‘the look’ of the moment. Instead, harmonic convergence occurs and lo – no frizz.
Or maybe, God don’t deceive my eyes, a blooming zit in the middle of an impossible to squeeze spot on the cheek is for once absent.
Wait a minute, the clouds part and the sun shines on what appears to be a dimply-free backside from butt to knees.
Hurry up! I need to get laid before the clock strikes twelve and my carriage turns into a pumpkin.
Then hair frizzes, zit surfaces, dimples appear (and on the arms), ten pounds suddenly pop up and a herpes sore breaks out on the corner of rapidly deflating lips.
Where are the professionals now?
Amazon list - Overcome Adversity With Movies About Redemption and Triumph
We need art to inspire us when we lose hope, to connect with us when we despair, to remind us of our sublime humanity. Whenever I struggle to make my way through adversity, I look to others who have overcome and triumphed. Watching movies is escapist, yet also very instructive. It helps to compare our plight to endure our existence with their very fight for survival.
We gain perspective in contrast to our two tales, our misery against theirs. Perhaps their story musters in us a will to press on. This develops in us relativity and thus we see the world differently, grateful for our epic struggle compared to theirs. We are enriched, and thus strengthened.
Osama In Taliban ruled Afghanistan, females cannot earn a living and are forced to beg on the street. A little girl transformed into a boy by cutting her lustrous hair, 'Osama' works in a shop after her mother pulls some favors. When the Taliban sweep through town to collect all the boys for schooling, Osama's struggle begins in earnest. If we are in Afghanistan to help girls get educated and become independent women, this may be a fight worth fighting.
Europa Europa Serendipity is the theme of this beautiful Jewish boy who becomes at turns Hitler Youth, Russian orphan, and Holocaust survivor. Set in WW II, the arc culminates in Zionist Israel as the tale is told.
Fresh A shrewd boy from the ghetto struggles to save his sister from the depravity of poverty and the cruelty of inner city life.
Slumdog Millionaire A Slumdog boy in the shanties of Mumbai, orphaned by sectarian violence, survives with his cruel but cagey brother. Hoping to maintain his connection with his estranged love Latika, he becomes a contestant on the Indian version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. Each question reveals a harrowing tale of depraved indifference. Ultimately, his virtue is redeemed by his joyful reunion, for even his brother is reformed.
Red One scene haunts me: The unfurling of a banner that graces the face of this lovely French model as her life unravels like thread from a slackened spool. The ubiquity of her image juxtaposes the secret lives of her neighbors. While she knows all about them, they are wholly unaware of her. Her eyes gaze eternally upon them until all is seen. At last, the falling of the banner is the closing of her eye.
Blue A threaded storyline runs through this French trilogy: a hunchbacked old woman struggling to throw away trash in a streetside dumpster. How the main character treats this woman reveals her integrity. The widow of a philandering man who also lost her child in the movie's opening scene is genuinely good. Despite her devastation, she sees this dignified old woman struggle and mindlessly helps the hunchback as she continues on her path to purge the excess of what was her former fraudulent life.
Cinema Paradiso Set in a small Sicilian town, this boy has two great loves. The old man running the movie theater who helps the young lad escape from rural obscurity through the magic of movies. And the young woman whose father spurns this poor boy smitten with his beautiful, wealthy daughter. Reflecting on his success through narration, his acclaim and fame as a movie producer is a blighted attempt to capture her atttention after love is lost.
Two Women Sophia Loren plays a mother struggling to protect her daughter from the ravages of war. Set in WW II Italy, she and her daughter are raped in a church by Allied forces, jeopardizing their ability to love the same young man whose affections undergird the story.
The Razor's Edge This movie is most apropos for us at this time, despite its post-WW I setting. Many of us, once successful both socially and financially, are living in a new reality. While not all is lost, what remains of us and what is of value? We live on the "razor's edge" of success and failure, wealth and poverty, fulfillment and emptiness. Our internal struggle for equilibrium belies our outer image of comfort. The world sees us as having it all, but we know what's missing. We wonder if our former life can ever be regained. Or if we should even bother.
The Joy Luck Club Four Chinese women whose tortuous formative years in China bely their American daughters lives of seeming privilege. Each daughter struggles to make sense of their own failures as she inevitably learns of her mother's plight back in China. Every woman's story helps her daughter gain a sense of herself from what each has loved and lost and learned along the path back to motherhood.
It's a Wonderful Life We have no way of knowing what positive impact we have on others. What would happen if we were never born? Thinking himself a failure to his family, believing he's worth more dead than alive, George Baily takes his own life. Saved by an angle in training, Clarence shows George what a wonderful life he has and the profound impact he's made on so many others. Succeeding at last, the story ends with the jingling of bells that means an angel has earned his wings.
Cold Mountain As Nicole Kidman said in her speech at the Oscars, art matters in the way it inspires us. Set during the Civil War, she and Renée Zellweger as polar opposites of refinement and crudeness, unite against the local ogre exploiting single women in the south while their men are away fighting in The War of Northern Aggression. Southern women are anything but wilting lillies.
Black Book A beautiful Jewess joins Holland's Resistance by embroiling a German officer in a love affair. A story of betrayal by our intimates, it reveals the redemption of intimacy when combined with self-sufficiency, observant insight, and indomitable will.
Monsoon Wedding A young Indian woman is torn by a torrid affair with a married man with her imminent arranged marriage to an appropriate man. Revealing the culture clash of young people who belong to a conservative family and the insidious indulgence of the Western influence, we follow this young woman as she reconciles her torn heart in an epic cinematic feast.
Raise the Red Lantern Polygamy is tyranny in the highest order. A beautiful young Chinese girl is sold as the multile wife to a wealthy man collecting concubines. The plight for status as the most favored wife sets the scene of internecine fighting among women for the scarcest of resources - dignity.
Gladiator Fighting to return home and ultimately to his family, an heroic general in battle is captured and enslaved in ancient Rome. To earn his freedom, he must win battles as a gladiator and then the approval of a treachorous Ceasar. This is the story of our lives, however less spectacular.
Empire of the Sun A wealthy white colonialist boy gets separated from his parents in war-torn China during WW II. He's interned in a Japanese prison camp and survives through sheer moxie. By the time he is reunited with his parents, he cannot reconcile the man he has become with his childhood of privilege he once knew.
Saving Private Ryan Three of four boys are killed during WW II, and the fourth must be found and saved for his grieving mother. A theme throughout the movie is man's connection to his woman and the eternal need for her love. As a young soldier lay dying, he calls out for his mother whom he shamefully neglected as a child. Another man asks his wife in his old age, have I been a good man? He implores her, have I earned it?
G.I. Jane Demi Moore is at her inspirational best in this movie, despite its flawed premise that women should serve alongside men in combat. A glass ceiling bar none, this superior female Naval officer is given the chance through political manueverings to train with Navy SEALs. She's a test case designed to fail. Against all oddds, she competes toe to toe with America's most elite men, earning her chops and gaining their respect. Moore's physique alone inspires awe, as does her true grit.
The Last Emperor This is a cautionary tale for we who cling to our former glory in a time of seismic change. We must adapt to the new emergent world and successfully compete in it. Or we become the last of the emperors and die as peasants in relative obscurity.
12 Angry Men In the crucible of a courtroom drama, 12 white male jurors deliberate the fate of the accused, the prodigal son of the underclass. Each man is forced to come to terms with his bigotry. Called into scrutiny is a father's estrangement with his son, man's obliviousness to his neighbors, people's isolation in the city, and humanity's disconnect to itself.
Conspiracy The most momentous moment is the telling of a man letting go of a grudge. This man loved his mother with unending devotion and hated his father with an all consuming passion. When his beloved mother died, he did not cry. When his despicable father died, he cried without stop. For when his nemesis ceased, so did his identity. With no one left to shape his hate, how would he define himself?
Schindler's List Set in a black and white movie of the Holocaust, the only color is seen by a German officer's mistress. A pretty little Jewish girl plays in the street below, her tiny bright red coat cast against a colorless expanse. A pile of corpses forms at a concentration camp, as does a pile of their previously worn clothes. Punctuating the pile of grisly grey is the tiny bright red coat.
Life is Beautiful A devoted family man tries to protect his young son from the horrors of the Holocaust while separated from his loving wife. In idyllic Italy before their internment, the young lad played with his toy tank. Win the contest in their concentration camp game and the boy gets a real tank of his own. Sacrificing himself to preserve his son's innocence, the parental love is what makes life beautiful.
Kill Bill - Volume One Uma Thurman is at her best playing a vengeful woman righting a most grievous wrong. Slaughtered on her wedding day while pregnant by her compatriot assissins, she returns from the dead to even the score. Wriggling her toes from a paralyzed state to defend herself against a convalescent rape, she makes every muscle in your body ache in tremendous empathetic support. That scene alone has you vow against victimhood. Or so you hope.
True Romance One of the most redemptive scenes in cinematic history. A young woman, attacked mercilessly by a mercenary in her hotel bathroom, fends for herself in a final act of self-defense by thrusting forth a corkscrew from her Swiss Army knife. Her attacker, heartened by this, frees her as she finishes him.
American History X When hate and humanity intersect, you have an epiphany. Bigotry is based on preserving what little we have left. When all is gone, and there is nothing left to fight for, we must reconcile with the wreckage. From this, we rebuild from the old what we care to keep and from the new what we hope to create.
Fight Club As sentient beings, we group among like kind. Called emergence, it's a bottom up formation found among mold spores and city centers. This coalesence forms both ant colonies and corporations alike. Forming franchises of Fight Clubs is the ultimate repudiation of revolution as anarchists conform to the coporate mold they fight to free themselves from.
La Femme Nikita You must watch the original French version with English sub-titles to get the best translation. Among its most amazing scenes of transformation, an elegant French woman teaches a forcibly reformed criminal girl the power of feminine beauty. With this power comes the price of falling in love. To what do we devote ourselves?
On the Waterfront Another cautionary tale to those of us chasing a paycheck while eroding our integrity. A talented boxer paid to throw a fight as a contender for the coveted belt, he sold out. He realizes too late that it wasn't worth the price. In a pivotal scene reclaiming his righteous place in the world, he defends himself by insisting "I coulda been a contenda!" We all could have been. But for which fight?
A Streetcar Named Desire How many formerly beautiful women among us live like Blanche DuBois? Clinging to their youthful beauty under the dim lighting of paper lanterns strung above, casting a flattering light. Hiding the reality of aging and the accumulation of lust from hopeful suitors, each deluding themselves of their own fatal flaws. Even when reality is shattered and the ugly truth revealed, she holds to the elbow of a man and says sweetly, "I've always relied on the kindness of strangers...."
Gone with the Wind The most inspiring scene among many is of Scarlett O'Hara, gripping a withered carrot in her fallow family plot, vowing "As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again!" The most unlikely heroine emerges as an unstoppable spirit who embodies the feminine ideal, flaws and all.
Citizen Kane A media mogul is wealthy beyond measure. Hidden from his apparent opulence is emotional isolation. As a man, he remains a sad child, lost and lonely. Torn from his loving mother and raised by a cold industrialist, his sole source of comfort is his sled he rode as a boy. Lying alone on his deathbed, he calls out for his companion "Rosebud... Rosebud...." For she is not his unrequited lover or long lost mother, but his childhood toy.
Braveheart The power of womanly beauty is its inspiration to make men act in fulfilling his destiny. For a man's most proud possession is his beautiful wife. With her, he creates a legacy of sons to carry his name and daughters to provide more heirs. We call this marriage. Two things undermine this arrangement: polygamy and cuckolding . William Wallace fought to free Scotland from their own obsolescence when the crown reinstituted 'ius primae noctae' or 'first night' that allowed the court to have sex with young brides on their wedding night. This threatens to wipe out Scottish blood because "the trouble with Scotland is that it is full of Scots...."
Swingers We as humans have a fundamental need to love and be loved. Our most courageous act is to risk rejection in order to find that love and make its effort meaningful. One of my favorite scenes is that of heartbroken men in LA at a bar. The biggest swinger of them all advises his forelorn buddy to look at women not as scary with big, huge claws to maul men but as sweet, tender little bunnies that need to be gently held. Taking his advice, he sees this lovely woman as she morphs into a precious, nose twitching rabbit begging to be approached. He does and we all go "awwwwe...."
American Beauty Two messages emerge for me. Closeted married men ruin lives; their own and worse, their wives who cannot reckon with the confusion of such profound personal rejection. The other is the bag wafting in the wind in that hauntingly beautiful scene capturing the capricious nature of fate.
Harold and Maude In what could only be explained by the brilliance of comedy told through British stiff upper lips, this movie changes your life just for watching it. A death obsessed Harold atttempts a number of actually hilarious suicide attempts. So weary with her son's antics, his mother insists he marry and goes so far as to fill out a dating questionnaire on his behalf. Her blithe responses to its questions alarms us viewers while Harold self-immolates just beyond the window. When he meets the aging Maude as she accepts her inevitable death, Harold decides to live life to the fullest. Wondering how Maude can be so happy at the end of her days, all is explained by a brief glimpse of her concentration camp number stamped onto her arm. An ironic scene is Harold driving to see Maude in the hospital in his Jaguar he converted into a hearse. In what appears as a conversion come too late, we are reminded that to love is to be truly alive. Even when living through its loss.
Gloria A hardened Mob moll, Gloria finds herself protecting a little boy who witnessed his family's massacre. Maternal instincts kick in and they're on the run. The story is a poignant reminder of our innate ability to love and protect especially our young, even when they aren't our own. As I write this, I watch these birds who built a nest off my balcony. Today, I saw a mama bird standing atop that nest as wee little birdies perk up with their beaks open. When we despair, life emerges and it is beautiful.
Hysterical Blindness Whatever the veneer we wear from wealthy Buckhead to weary Bayonne, we women are the same in the ache we feel for wanting love in our lives. It's painful to watch best friends Uma Thurman and Juliette Lewis and wonder of yourself how many times you've been wasted at that bar, how much of you was wasted, too. We hope that in time, we go from bed to better, and no longer sleep alone.
Blade Runner A more superior form of humans were created, called Replicants. As intelligent as the humans who created them, they were used for slave labor in conditions too hazardous for people. Becoming self-aware, they mutinied. Blade Runners were to kill any Replicants. When a Blade Runner falls in love with a Replicant, it calls into question our humanity. What makes us human? Is it our capacity to develop ideas, to feel pain, to form attachments, to experience grief? In our daily lives of manufactured reality, are we Blade Runners or are we Replicants?
We gain perspective in contrast to our two tales, our misery against theirs. Perhaps their story musters in us a will to press on. This develops in us relativity and thus we see the world differently, grateful for our epic struggle compared to theirs. We are enriched, and thus strengthened.
Osama In Taliban ruled Afghanistan, females cannot earn a living and are forced to beg on the street. A little girl transformed into a boy by cutting her lustrous hair, 'Osama' works in a shop after her mother pulls some favors. When the Taliban sweep through town to collect all the boys for schooling, Osama's struggle begins in earnest. If we are in Afghanistan to help girls get educated and become independent women, this may be a fight worth fighting.
Europa Europa Serendipity is the theme of this beautiful Jewish boy who becomes at turns Hitler Youth, Russian orphan, and Holocaust survivor. Set in WW II, the arc culminates in Zionist Israel as the tale is told.
Fresh A shrewd boy from the ghetto struggles to save his sister from the depravity of poverty and the cruelty of inner city life.
Slumdog Millionaire A Slumdog boy in the shanties of Mumbai, orphaned by sectarian violence, survives with his cruel but cagey brother. Hoping to maintain his connection with his estranged love Latika, he becomes a contestant on the Indian version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. Each question reveals a harrowing tale of depraved indifference. Ultimately, his virtue is redeemed by his joyful reunion, for even his brother is reformed.
Red One scene haunts me: The unfurling of a banner that graces the face of this lovely French model as her life unravels like thread from a slackened spool. The ubiquity of her image juxtaposes the secret lives of her neighbors. While she knows all about them, they are wholly unaware of her. Her eyes gaze eternally upon them until all is seen. At last, the falling of the banner is the closing of her eye.
Blue A threaded storyline runs through this French trilogy: a hunchbacked old woman struggling to throw away trash in a streetside dumpster. How the main character treats this woman reveals her integrity. The widow of a philandering man who also lost her child in the movie's opening scene is genuinely good. Despite her devastation, she sees this dignified old woman struggle and mindlessly helps the hunchback as she continues on her path to purge the excess of what was her former fraudulent life.
Cinema Paradiso Set in a small Sicilian town, this boy has two great loves. The old man running the movie theater who helps the young lad escape from rural obscurity through the magic of movies. And the young woman whose father spurns this poor boy smitten with his beautiful, wealthy daughter. Reflecting on his success through narration, his acclaim and fame as a movie producer is a blighted attempt to capture her atttention after love is lost.
Two Women Sophia Loren plays a mother struggling to protect her daughter from the ravages of war. Set in WW II Italy, she and her daughter are raped in a church by Allied forces, jeopardizing their ability to love the same young man whose affections undergird the story.
The Razor's Edge This movie is most apropos for us at this time, despite its post-WW I setting. Many of us, once successful both socially and financially, are living in a new reality. While not all is lost, what remains of us and what is of value? We live on the "razor's edge" of success and failure, wealth and poverty, fulfillment and emptiness. Our internal struggle for equilibrium belies our outer image of comfort. The world sees us as having it all, but we know what's missing. We wonder if our former life can ever be regained. Or if we should even bother.
The Joy Luck Club Four Chinese women whose tortuous formative years in China bely their American daughters lives of seeming privilege. Each daughter struggles to make sense of their own failures as she inevitably learns of her mother's plight back in China. Every woman's story helps her daughter gain a sense of herself from what each has loved and lost and learned along the path back to motherhood.
It's a Wonderful Life We have no way of knowing what positive impact we have on others. What would happen if we were never born? Thinking himself a failure to his family, believing he's worth more dead than alive, George Baily takes his own life. Saved by an angle in training, Clarence shows George what a wonderful life he has and the profound impact he's made on so many others. Succeeding at last, the story ends with the jingling of bells that means an angel has earned his wings.
Cold Mountain As Nicole Kidman said in her speech at the Oscars, art matters in the way it inspires us. Set during the Civil War, she and Renée Zellweger as polar opposites of refinement and crudeness, unite against the local ogre exploiting single women in the south while their men are away fighting in The War of Northern Aggression. Southern women are anything but wilting lillies.
Black Book A beautiful Jewess joins Holland's Resistance by embroiling a German officer in a love affair. A story of betrayal by our intimates, it reveals the redemption of intimacy when combined with self-sufficiency, observant insight, and indomitable will.
Monsoon Wedding A young Indian woman is torn by a torrid affair with a married man with her imminent arranged marriage to an appropriate man. Revealing the culture clash of young people who belong to a conservative family and the insidious indulgence of the Western influence, we follow this young woman as she reconciles her torn heart in an epic cinematic feast.
Raise the Red Lantern Polygamy is tyranny in the highest order. A beautiful young Chinese girl is sold as the multile wife to a wealthy man collecting concubines. The plight for status as the most favored wife sets the scene of internecine fighting among women for the scarcest of resources - dignity.
Gladiator Fighting to return home and ultimately to his family, an heroic general in battle is captured and enslaved in ancient Rome. To earn his freedom, he must win battles as a gladiator and then the approval of a treachorous Ceasar. This is the story of our lives, however less spectacular.
Empire of the Sun A wealthy white colonialist boy gets separated from his parents in war-torn China during WW II. He's interned in a Japanese prison camp and survives through sheer moxie. By the time he is reunited with his parents, he cannot reconcile the man he has become with his childhood of privilege he once knew.
Saving Private Ryan Three of four boys are killed during WW II, and the fourth must be found and saved for his grieving mother. A theme throughout the movie is man's connection to his woman and the eternal need for her love. As a young soldier lay dying, he calls out for his mother whom he shamefully neglected as a child. Another man asks his wife in his old age, have I been a good man? He implores her, have I earned it?
G.I. Jane Demi Moore is at her inspirational best in this movie, despite its flawed premise that women should serve alongside men in combat. A glass ceiling bar none, this superior female Naval officer is given the chance through political manueverings to train with Navy SEALs. She's a test case designed to fail. Against all oddds, she competes toe to toe with America's most elite men, earning her chops and gaining their respect. Moore's physique alone inspires awe, as does her true grit.
The Last Emperor This is a cautionary tale for we who cling to our former glory in a time of seismic change. We must adapt to the new emergent world and successfully compete in it. Or we become the last of the emperors and die as peasants in relative obscurity.
12 Angry Men In the crucible of a courtroom drama, 12 white male jurors deliberate the fate of the accused, the prodigal son of the underclass. Each man is forced to come to terms with his bigotry. Called into scrutiny is a father's estrangement with his son, man's obliviousness to his neighbors, people's isolation in the city, and humanity's disconnect to itself.
Conspiracy The most momentous moment is the telling of a man letting go of a grudge. This man loved his mother with unending devotion and hated his father with an all consuming passion. When his beloved mother died, he did not cry. When his despicable father died, he cried without stop. For when his nemesis ceased, so did his identity. With no one left to shape his hate, how would he define himself?
Schindler's List Set in a black and white movie of the Holocaust, the only color is seen by a German officer's mistress. A pretty little Jewish girl plays in the street below, her tiny bright red coat cast against a colorless expanse. A pile of corpses forms at a concentration camp, as does a pile of their previously worn clothes. Punctuating the pile of grisly grey is the tiny bright red coat.
Life is Beautiful A devoted family man tries to protect his young son from the horrors of the Holocaust while separated from his loving wife. In idyllic Italy before their internment, the young lad played with his toy tank. Win the contest in their concentration camp game and the boy gets a real tank of his own. Sacrificing himself to preserve his son's innocence, the parental love is what makes life beautiful.
Kill Bill - Volume One Uma Thurman is at her best playing a vengeful woman righting a most grievous wrong. Slaughtered on her wedding day while pregnant by her compatriot assissins, she returns from the dead to even the score. Wriggling her toes from a paralyzed state to defend herself against a convalescent rape, she makes every muscle in your body ache in tremendous empathetic support. That scene alone has you vow against victimhood. Or so you hope.
True Romance One of the most redemptive scenes in cinematic history. A young woman, attacked mercilessly by a mercenary in her hotel bathroom, fends for herself in a final act of self-defense by thrusting forth a corkscrew from her Swiss Army knife. Her attacker, heartened by this, frees her as she finishes him.
American History X When hate and humanity intersect, you have an epiphany. Bigotry is based on preserving what little we have left. When all is gone, and there is nothing left to fight for, we must reconcile with the wreckage. From this, we rebuild from the old what we care to keep and from the new what we hope to create.
Fight Club As sentient beings, we group among like kind. Called emergence, it's a bottom up formation found among mold spores and city centers. This coalesence forms both ant colonies and corporations alike. Forming franchises of Fight Clubs is the ultimate repudiation of revolution as anarchists conform to the coporate mold they fight to free themselves from.
La Femme Nikita You must watch the original French version with English sub-titles to get the best translation. Among its most amazing scenes of transformation, an elegant French woman teaches a forcibly reformed criminal girl the power of feminine beauty. With this power comes the price of falling in love. To what do we devote ourselves?
On the Waterfront Another cautionary tale to those of us chasing a paycheck while eroding our integrity. A talented boxer paid to throw a fight as a contender for the coveted belt, he sold out. He realizes too late that it wasn't worth the price. In a pivotal scene reclaiming his righteous place in the world, he defends himself by insisting "I coulda been a contenda!" We all could have been. But for which fight?
A Streetcar Named Desire How many formerly beautiful women among us live like Blanche DuBois? Clinging to their youthful beauty under the dim lighting of paper lanterns strung above, casting a flattering light. Hiding the reality of aging and the accumulation of lust from hopeful suitors, each deluding themselves of their own fatal flaws. Even when reality is shattered and the ugly truth revealed, she holds to the elbow of a man and says sweetly, "I've always relied on the kindness of strangers...."
Gone with the Wind The most inspiring scene among many is of Scarlett O'Hara, gripping a withered carrot in her fallow family plot, vowing "As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again!" The most unlikely heroine emerges as an unstoppable spirit who embodies the feminine ideal, flaws and all.
Citizen Kane A media mogul is wealthy beyond measure. Hidden from his apparent opulence is emotional isolation. As a man, he remains a sad child, lost and lonely. Torn from his loving mother and raised by a cold industrialist, his sole source of comfort is his sled he rode as a boy. Lying alone on his deathbed, he calls out for his companion "Rosebud... Rosebud...." For she is not his unrequited lover or long lost mother, but his childhood toy.
Braveheart The power of womanly beauty is its inspiration to make men act in fulfilling his destiny. For a man's most proud possession is his beautiful wife. With her, he creates a legacy of sons to carry his name and daughters to provide more heirs. We call this marriage. Two things undermine this arrangement: polygamy and cuckolding . William Wallace fought to free Scotland from their own obsolescence when the crown reinstituted 'ius primae noctae' or 'first night' that allowed the court to have sex with young brides on their wedding night. This threatens to wipe out Scottish blood because "the trouble with Scotland is that it is full of Scots...."
Swingers We as humans have a fundamental need to love and be loved. Our most courageous act is to risk rejection in order to find that love and make its effort meaningful. One of my favorite scenes is that of heartbroken men in LA at a bar. The biggest swinger of them all advises his forelorn buddy to look at women not as scary with big, huge claws to maul men but as sweet, tender little bunnies that need to be gently held. Taking his advice, he sees this lovely woman as she morphs into a precious, nose twitching rabbit begging to be approached. He does and we all go "awwwwe...."
American Beauty Two messages emerge for me. Closeted married men ruin lives; their own and worse, their wives who cannot reckon with the confusion of such profound personal rejection. The other is the bag wafting in the wind in that hauntingly beautiful scene capturing the capricious nature of fate.
Harold and Maude In what could only be explained by the brilliance of comedy told through British stiff upper lips, this movie changes your life just for watching it. A death obsessed Harold atttempts a number of actually hilarious suicide attempts. So weary with her son's antics, his mother insists he marry and goes so far as to fill out a dating questionnaire on his behalf. Her blithe responses to its questions alarms us viewers while Harold self-immolates just beyond the window. When he meets the aging Maude as she accepts her inevitable death, Harold decides to live life to the fullest. Wondering how Maude can be so happy at the end of her days, all is explained by a brief glimpse of her concentration camp number stamped onto her arm. An ironic scene is Harold driving to see Maude in the hospital in his Jaguar he converted into a hearse. In what appears as a conversion come too late, we are reminded that to love is to be truly alive. Even when living through its loss.
Gloria A hardened Mob moll, Gloria finds herself protecting a little boy who witnessed his family's massacre. Maternal instincts kick in and they're on the run. The story is a poignant reminder of our innate ability to love and protect especially our young, even when they aren't our own. As I write this, I watch these birds who built a nest off my balcony. Today, I saw a mama bird standing atop that nest as wee little birdies perk up with their beaks open. When we despair, life emerges and it is beautiful.
Hysterical Blindness Whatever the veneer we wear from wealthy Buckhead to weary Bayonne, we women are the same in the ache we feel for wanting love in our lives. It's painful to watch best friends Uma Thurman and Juliette Lewis and wonder of yourself how many times you've been wasted at that bar, how much of you was wasted, too. We hope that in time, we go from bed to better, and no longer sleep alone.
Blade Runner A more superior form of humans were created, called Replicants. As intelligent as the humans who created them, they were used for slave labor in conditions too hazardous for people. Becoming self-aware, they mutinied. Blade Runners were to kill any Replicants. When a Blade Runner falls in love with a Replicant, it calls into question our humanity. What makes us human? Is it our capacity to develop ideas, to feel pain, to form attachments, to experience grief? In our daily lives of manufactured reality, are we Blade Runners or are we Replicants?
Media As Mount Olympus, Paparazzi A Pile Of Pus
The paparazzi are the peddlers of truth. Celebrities and commoners are cleaved together as were the mythical Titans. Titans, according to Greek mythology, were hermaphrodites. Being both man and woman in one entity, they felt invincible because they could mate with themselves and so did not need the Gods for guidance.
The Gods did not like their hubris. So to show them who has the power, Zeus sent a lightning bolt that split the Titans in two, creating man and woman. Now man and woman can only feel the passion of unity through sexual points of contact.
Now the media, Gods of our own creation, plays the role of Zeus. He has split the female populace in two – the celebrities and the commoners. One being a projected image of bodily perfection and the other of normal mortal flaws.
Perfection is the embodiment of Truth. Normal as the perpetuation of Fraud. Contrived projected images of physically perfected celebrities touch us miserable lumps of flesh through visual points of contact.
A candid picture proves all this false as Perfection is seen in the harsh light of day as Normal after all.
The Gods did not like their hubris. So to show them who has the power, Zeus sent a lightning bolt that split the Titans in two, creating man and woman. Now man and woman can only feel the passion of unity through sexual points of contact.
Now the media, Gods of our own creation, plays the role of Zeus. He has split the female populace in two – the celebrities and the commoners. One being a projected image of bodily perfection and the other of normal mortal flaws.
Perfection is the embodiment of Truth. Normal as the perpetuation of Fraud. Contrived projected images of physically perfected celebrities touch us miserable lumps of flesh through visual points of contact.
A candid picture proves all this false as Perfection is seen in the harsh light of day as Normal after all.
In Blog I Trust
Newspapers support the habit of old folks. While fashion magazines are published for young fools. I trust beauty advice from the Office Hottie because she is living proof of her own good advice. Water cooler talk offers perspective far superior to the talking heads broadcasting endless television. New York and Los Angeles heralds the news from on high to the rest of us low-lifes in Fly Over Country.
Print newspapers and fashion magazines are the dinosaurs of our time for three reasons. One is that due to space constraints, they print limited amounts of information to what fits around existing paid advertisements. Two is that their advertisements are scatter shot throughout, giving no regard to your particular demographics. Three is its editorials are skewed so heavily to those who don't even read, much less buy the paper.
The Internet is the solution to all these problems, but a serious problem for publications. Through blogging and podcasting, posting pictures, reading and writing responses, and social networking, folks participate fully within their community online. We share information among like minds instead of getting lost in the abyss of everyone else everywhere else who's not you.
Print newspapers and fashion magazines are the dinosaurs of our time for three reasons. One is that due to space constraints, they print limited amounts of information to what fits around existing paid advertisements. Two is that their advertisements are scatter shot throughout, giving no regard to your particular demographics. Three is its editorials are skewed so heavily to those who don't even read, much less buy the paper.
The Internet is the solution to all these problems, but a serious problem for publications. Through blogging and podcasting, posting pictures, reading and writing responses, and social networking, folks participate fully within their community online. We share information among like minds instead of getting lost in the abyss of everyone else everywhere else who's not you.
America The Beautiful, Most Times
All things beautiful are the embellishments of exuberant excess. Abundant beauty is a chronology of continuous wealth and stable societies. This can be traced from family units to whole nations by way of city buildings and women’s beauty. Every decade in recent American history was one of increasing wealth. Each succeeding decade produced its share of beautiful women.
There are two exceptions in ongoing American hegemony. The 1940s during World War II was a time of unintended scarcity and mandatory rationing. The 1970s, marred by the failure of President Jimmy Carter, experienced the OPEC oil embargo and the Iran Hostage Crisis. A general malaise exacerbated multiple military failures and massive manufacturing sector lay-offs. Stagflation, requiring two income earners, had women working outside the home to make ends meet. The obliteration of family life began our devastating Divorce Culture.
Comparatively, despite extreme economic and emotional hardship experienced during the 1940s, the women were beautiful as beauty remained virtuous. Why? Patriotism. American women were the reason why men fought for their country and still do. Men were welcomed home to a grateful nation and the loving embrace of their wives.
Not so in the 1970s where contemporary architecture built oppressive facades just as contemporary attitudes created harried women, emasculated men, and broken families. The greatest loss to America was in losing faith in the American Man, to which we have never fully recovered. Hideous city skylines and generations of broken families are proof of what we lost for all that eyes can see.
There are two exceptions in ongoing American hegemony. The 1940s during World War II was a time of unintended scarcity and mandatory rationing. The 1970s, marred by the failure of President Jimmy Carter, experienced the OPEC oil embargo and the Iran Hostage Crisis. A general malaise exacerbated multiple military failures and massive manufacturing sector lay-offs. Stagflation, requiring two income earners, had women working outside the home to make ends meet. The obliteration of family life began our devastating Divorce Culture.
Comparatively, despite extreme economic and emotional hardship experienced during the 1940s, the women were beautiful as beauty remained virtuous. Why? Patriotism. American women were the reason why men fought for their country and still do. Men were welcomed home to a grateful nation and the loving embrace of their wives.
Not so in the 1970s where contemporary architecture built oppressive facades just as contemporary attitudes created harried women, emasculated men, and broken families. The greatest loss to America was in losing faith in the American Man, to which we have never fully recovered. Hideous city skylines and generations of broken families are proof of what we lost for all that eyes can see.
Paternity Determines Womanly Beauty
Polygamy is not pretty. Self-sufficience is sexy. Islamic cultures allow a man multiple wives. They regard it as a social imperative for a man of means to marry available females in a legal harem. They build stable societies by marrying women, making them beholden to one man. This compensates for the majority of men with no means who cannot afford a family of their own.
In tribal societies, paternity matters. "Who's your daddy?" is a matter of life and death, not merely an entry on one's birth certificate. Being the son of a wealthy man ensures survival in that they can then afford wives of their own. Their family name continues into the next generation, and the next, and the next. The patriarchy perpetuates itself.
It is very easy for us Americans to be snide about other cultures that allow one man to marry many women. We scoff knowing that being married to one woman is hard enough. Yet, we in America have a polygamous culture. Unlike Muslims, our harems are not religious sects. It is entirely secular.
Having children out of wedlock and raising them in the welfare system is polygamy where one "man" supports many women. Ghettos are family compounds. When kids are wards of the state, Uncle Sam is Sultan.
Forcing men to pay court-ordered child support is polygamy when a family man legally morphs into Deadbeat Dad. Family law reduces husbands to mere johns, trading sexual services for cash transactions. The legal system as protector - and pimp. When Big Government is Big Daddy, his women are whores.
In tribal societies, paternity matters. "Who's your daddy?" is a matter of life and death, not merely an entry on one's birth certificate. Being the son of a wealthy man ensures survival in that they can then afford wives of their own. Their family name continues into the next generation, and the next, and the next. The patriarchy perpetuates itself.
It is very easy for us Americans to be snide about other cultures that allow one man to marry many women. We scoff knowing that being married to one woman is hard enough. Yet, we in America have a polygamous culture. Unlike Muslims, our harems are not religious sects. It is entirely secular.
Having children out of wedlock and raising them in the welfare system is polygamy where one "man" supports many women. Ghettos are family compounds. When kids are wards of the state, Uncle Sam is Sultan.
Forcing men to pay court-ordered child support is polygamy when a family man legally morphs into Deadbeat Dad. Family law reduces husbands to mere johns, trading sexual services for cash transactions. The legal system as protector - and pimp. When Big Government is Big Daddy, his women are whores.
Getting Laid In The Afterlife
Men become suicidal terrorists for one reason: to be a hero in death for being a loser in life. In their culture, these men cannot marry because they are deemed undesirable. This may be because he is uneducated and thus, unemployable.
Societies allowing men many wives exacerbate this problem by casting single men in the lifelong role of rogue element. Failed states that cannot support its ballooning youth or precarious economy encourage martyrdom. Attributing eternal glory in death somehow compensates for being mediocre at best in life.
A wife who takes her man's name and a son who carries that name in perpetuity nullifies the desire to make a name for oneself through martyrdom because he already has through marriage. Not having a woman of his own is death, both biological and social.
Maybe if terrorists got laid, they wouldn't be terrorists. Then we could all live in peace, as would those seventy-two virgins.
Societies allowing men many wives exacerbate this problem by casting single men in the lifelong role of rogue element. Failed states that cannot support its ballooning youth or precarious economy encourage martyrdom. Attributing eternal glory in death somehow compensates for being mediocre at best in life.
A wife who takes her man's name and a son who carries that name in perpetuity nullifies the desire to make a name for oneself through martyrdom because he already has through marriage. Not having a woman of his own is death, both biological and social.
Maybe if terrorists got laid, they wouldn't be terrorists. Then we could all live in peace, as would those seventy-two virgins.
Angry Envy of Uglies Ruins Beautiful Love
Things that are most true are mostly counter-intuitive. Beautiful women being sluts, for example. Confidence is what makes a woman beautiful. Her virtue is beauty at first glance. Insecurity and she's merely an attractive woman. It's the mousy brown chicks and all the fat hags who whore it up. They sling their pussies like hash for the phantom feeling of being beautiful.
Yet, they say to never marry a beautiful woman because she has a past... and so she has a future - with other men. This is because they have options. Men fear that those options are better than he is, and he's often right.
Let's think about this. Beautiful women have a lot of opportunities for sex with many men. Being sexually desirable is the ultimate in having options. But just because we have the numbers to run doesn't mean we run the numbers. No, the opposite is true. Having the opportunity to discern among our many options, we pick the very best ones or none at all. We don't need to suffer fools and their follies. We don't have to.
When quantity is not an issue, quality is. Given all the options, many of them very good, we select for ourselves the best man for us. We don't need many, just a few good men. They are worthy of our affection. They have lasting value. Because of this, when a beautiful woman chooses her man, she is deliberate in her choice and confident in her decision. This makes her impervious to the seductive maneuvers of other men, all vying for her attention. There is no complimenting her out of her panties by telling her she is beautiful because she already knows this. Stating the obvious has no sway with seduction.
Men have erections in their sleep. They produce semen daily and on demand by the load. There's no real compliment to having a man ejaculate with you. Not when he does it so often alone. There's little value to being his witness, mute or otherwise. If he isn't spending his allotment by having sex with a woman, he would through nocturnal emissions anyway, even after giving his hand a try. So saying you're pretty gets you into bed with him. Big deal. Talk is cheap. Sex is cheaper. Yet, promiscuity is so very costly. Women of the highest value will not pay its price.
The value of beautiful women is high. It's the fools who are willing to pay for sex at any price. For this reason, beautiful women do not cheat on her man for other men who compliment her. She doesn't need to. Doing without is much easier than making do. Even when not involved in a relationship, the time between lovers is fleeting. She feels no desperation, and so will not pay the devil his due for indiscriminate sex. She knows she's desirable. She has the numbers to prove it. But it's those same numbers of available suitors that sully her image. Reputations made worse by the angry envy of ugly women who gobble up the dregs as if there really is such thing as second place. Sloppy seconds, maybe. That's no prize.
Yet, they say to never marry a beautiful woman because she has a past... and so she has a future - with other men. This is because they have options. Men fear that those options are better than he is, and he's often right.
Let's think about this. Beautiful women have a lot of opportunities for sex with many men. Being sexually desirable is the ultimate in having options. But just because we have the numbers to run doesn't mean we run the numbers. No, the opposite is true. Having the opportunity to discern among our many options, we pick the very best ones or none at all. We don't need to suffer fools and their follies. We don't have to.
When quantity is not an issue, quality is. Given all the options, many of them very good, we select for ourselves the best man for us. We don't need many, just a few good men. They are worthy of our affection. They have lasting value. Because of this, when a beautiful woman chooses her man, she is deliberate in her choice and confident in her decision. This makes her impervious to the seductive maneuvers of other men, all vying for her attention. There is no complimenting her out of her panties by telling her she is beautiful because she already knows this. Stating the obvious has no sway with seduction.
Men have erections in their sleep. They produce semen daily and on demand by the load. There's no real compliment to having a man ejaculate with you. Not when he does it so often alone. There's little value to being his witness, mute or otherwise. If he isn't spending his allotment by having sex with a woman, he would through nocturnal emissions anyway, even after giving his hand a try. So saying you're pretty gets you into bed with him. Big deal. Talk is cheap. Sex is cheaper. Yet, promiscuity is so very costly. Women of the highest value will not pay its price.
The value of beautiful women is high. It's the fools who are willing to pay for sex at any price. For this reason, beautiful women do not cheat on her man for other men who compliment her. She doesn't need to. Doing without is much easier than making do. Even when not involved in a relationship, the time between lovers is fleeting. She feels no desperation, and so will not pay the devil his due for indiscriminate sex. She knows she's desirable. She has the numbers to prove it. But it's those same numbers of available suitors that sully her image. Reputations made worse by the angry envy of ugly women who gobble up the dregs as if there really is such thing as second place. Sloppy seconds, maybe. That's no prize.
As I Reader, I Want
To me, seeing is believing – in person and in print. I'm empty, even after all that filler in print.
Wishing to be fulfilled emotionally and intellectually, there's so much more I want from what I read.
I want writing that’s worth investing precious minutes of reading, for which I’ll pay any price.
I want to connect with the writer through the writing’s mental monologue.
I want writing that I can’t wait to get back to after being forcibly pulled away.
I want to feel devastated when the piece ends; losing the connection that can’t even be made with lovers or resumed again with another writer.
I want phrases rattling through my head like an obsessive compulsive deprived of her meds who can’t purge her endless thoughts.
I want words to hit me hard like the clanging of a cast iron skillet, which soothes with its brittle coolness to the touch.
Wishing to be fulfilled emotionally and intellectually, there's so much more I want from what I read.
I want writing that’s worth investing precious minutes of reading, for which I’ll pay any price.
I want to connect with the writer through the writing’s mental monologue.
I want writing that I can’t wait to get back to after being forcibly pulled away.
I want to feel devastated when the piece ends; losing the connection that can’t even be made with lovers or resumed again with another writer.
I want phrases rattling through my head like an obsessive compulsive deprived of her meds who can’t purge her endless thoughts.
I want words to hit me hard like the clanging of a cast iron skillet, which soothes with its brittle coolness to the touch.
Wanted: Musings on the Politics of Appearance
To me, seeing is believing – in person and in print. There is so much I want from writers who write of beauty and the politics of appearance. I'm not getting it, and so I am doing it. This is the basis of my blog Ugly Is Not an Option.
I want writing that’s worth investing precious minutes of reading, for which I’ll pay any price.
I want to connect with the writer through the writing’s mental monologue.
I want writing that I can’t wait to get back to after being forcibly pulled away.
I want to feel devastated when the piece ends; losing the connection that can’t even be made with lovers or resumed again with another writer.
I want phrases rattling through my head like an obsessive compulsive deprived of her meds who can’t purge her endless thoughts.
I want words to hit me hard like the clanging of a cast iron skillet, which soothes with its brittle coolness to the touch.
I want writing that’s worth investing precious minutes of reading, for which I’ll pay any price.
I want to connect with the writer through the writing’s mental monologue.
I want writing that I can’t wait to get back to after being forcibly pulled away.
I want to feel devastated when the piece ends; losing the connection that can’t even be made with lovers or resumed again with another writer.
I want phrases rattling through my head like an obsessive compulsive deprived of her meds who can’t purge her endless thoughts.
I want words to hit me hard like the clanging of a cast iron skillet, which soothes with its brittle coolness to the touch.
I Went To Hell And Back And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt
If you are jealous of another woman, it is only because you don't know her well. People who have suffered envy no one. Once you touch the ugly guts of a lovely facade, there's no enchantment with a beautiful lie.
Experience suffering and we can no longer deceive ourselves. Or deny the lies of others. It's as though this knowledge removes filters to elegant deceptions. Indignant anger turns into cool acceptance.
Our job as successful members of society is to suffer in silence. With a quiet dignity, we wait for this tragedy to pass and its grief to end. Like a red scar, it fades in time. Invisible to all; indelible to us.
We each hurt, wounded inside. Pain is more patient than we are. Loss is inevitable in our lives. We cannot avoid the inexorable truth.
Along our path, we pick up a story to tell. We pray our tale is not told in vain. For others, it remains a secret to keep. A source of shame.
We cannot allow ourselves to become numb. The pain subsides. I promise you. It does. You are not alone.
When we are young, there is tremendous shine on the shell, and a squishy softness in the middle. At some point in maturity, we realize how tender we are on the outside, and how solid is our core. Reality, it seems, turns inside out.
Now you know. The only thing worth fighting for is life itself. Everything else is disposable. Ego, image, vanity. These feints at self-importance are mere delusions and wasteful expenditures.
These lessons came at a cost, though. It is well worth the price I paid. However, it is an involuntary tax imposed on experience.
In the crucible of my time, I asked God "Why me? I'm not Job. I don't matter." The moment was wasted on me. But not for long. It had to matter. This is not for nothing. It can't be.
I started to take an inventory. What was lost? What remains? What next?
Accounting for my meager blessings, I started to be thankful. Then I started seeing goodness all around me. For everything I lost, I regained each of the losses as a tenfold gain. It's as though gratitude is a form of tithing, like mental money.
As I account for the losses, I am amazed at what remains. Good things endure, however ephemeral they seem to be. What survived the storm? Happiness. Love. Talent.
How did these survive? Because they are internal qualities. It is found within me, as if each are a seed in our soul. As such, they can never be taken away. They cannot be given away, either. Only thrown away as ingrattitude.
I thank God every day for what I have. I'm thankful for all that He left for me to rebuild of my life. It's not mansions in paradise and winning lottery tickets, either. But the trials are over, or so it seems. A reprieve is good enough for me.
One thing I know: storm as it might, I'm still standing. Isn't that what we really wonder of ourselves? In the event of a distaster, can I survive? If I survive, will I ever thrive?
Ockham's Razor states that when you hear the sound of hooves - think horses, not zebras. But what if the sound of hooves you hear is The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? That's easy - think zebras, not horses.
Laugh in face of fear. Why not? Imagine the fearsome Pestilence, War, Famine, and Disease clopping along on their little zebras. The imagery is pretty funny. Tragedy has a humor all its own. Thank God.
Experience suffering and we can no longer deceive ourselves. Or deny the lies of others. It's as though this knowledge removes filters to elegant deceptions. Indignant anger turns into cool acceptance.
Our job as successful members of society is to suffer in silence. With a quiet dignity, we wait for this tragedy to pass and its grief to end. Like a red scar, it fades in time. Invisible to all; indelible to us.
We each hurt, wounded inside. Pain is more patient than we are. Loss is inevitable in our lives. We cannot avoid the inexorable truth.
Along our path, we pick up a story to tell. We pray our tale is not told in vain. For others, it remains a secret to keep. A source of shame.
We cannot allow ourselves to become numb. The pain subsides. I promise you. It does. You are not alone.
When we are young, there is tremendous shine on the shell, and a squishy softness in the middle. At some point in maturity, we realize how tender we are on the outside, and how solid is our core. Reality, it seems, turns inside out.
Now you know. The only thing worth fighting for is life itself. Everything else is disposable. Ego, image, vanity. These feints at self-importance are mere delusions and wasteful expenditures.
These lessons came at a cost, though. It is well worth the price I paid. However, it is an involuntary tax imposed on experience.
In the crucible of my time, I asked God "Why me? I'm not Job. I don't matter." The moment was wasted on me. But not for long. It had to matter. This is not for nothing. It can't be.
I started to take an inventory. What was lost? What remains? What next?
Accounting for my meager blessings, I started to be thankful. Then I started seeing goodness all around me. For everything I lost, I regained each of the losses as a tenfold gain. It's as though gratitude is a form of tithing, like mental money.
As I account for the losses, I am amazed at what remains. Good things endure, however ephemeral they seem to be. What survived the storm? Happiness. Love. Talent.
How did these survive? Because they are internal qualities. It is found within me, as if each are a seed in our soul. As such, they can never be taken away. They cannot be given away, either. Only thrown away as ingrattitude.
I thank God every day for what I have. I'm thankful for all that He left for me to rebuild of my life. It's not mansions in paradise and winning lottery tickets, either. But the trials are over, or so it seems. A reprieve is good enough for me.
One thing I know: storm as it might, I'm still standing. Isn't that what we really wonder of ourselves? In the event of a distaster, can I survive? If I survive, will I ever thrive?
Ockham's Razor states that when you hear the sound of hooves - think horses, not zebras. But what if the sound of hooves you hear is The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? That's easy - think zebras, not horses.
Laugh in face of fear. Why not? Imagine the fearsome Pestilence, War, Famine, and Disease clopping along on their little zebras. The imagery is pretty funny. Tragedy has a humor all its own. Thank God.
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