ando meio desligado
28 March 2006 02:44![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chrryblssmninjaOne commercial used a "Karate Chop" to promote Mandarin Chicken Salad. So sad. Ignorant American ad agencies.
Good stuff. Too much of the abstract words at first, but the little twists and details are great. I've always thought Christian Bale was good, whether as a little boy in Empire of the Sun to Jesus in a TV movie to...tons of movies. Good choice for Batman, though he goes a bit hard on the gravelly voice in the Batsuit. The ninja stuff had me grinning with insane joy. Katie Holmes didn't annoy me as much as I thought she would. Gary Oldman was exactly as I imagined Gordon would be, and I've always liked Morgan Freeman and Rutger Hauer. Too bad Ken Watanabe was underused, though. Liam Neeson was great in his part as well, though the abundance of abstract words was getting a bit annoying during the training.
It was cool how they used lesser known characters like Ra's al Ghul, Carmine Falcone, and the Scarecrow. Ever since I watched the excellent 90's cartoons I thought that the Scarecrow was one of the best Batman villians. Cillian Murphy (the guy in my icon in last week's post) had this down-key creepiness that was really magnetic. One question though: How does one pronounce Ra's al Ghul? The cartoon pronounced the first name like raish, while the movie says ras/ Hmm.
Taping the fashion show last week was exhausting yet fun. Heard while passing by models on the way to the bathroom: "I need to take off my eyebrows." When I walked into the bathroom, this male model gave a surprised look at me and said, "I guess this is the girl's bathroom." But the other girls were okay with it- they were doing his makeup by the sink and chatting and all.
Saw Chinatown in Video Class. Good stuff.
Just passed the halfway mark in Battle Royale. I had forgotten how vivid that eyeball-popping scene was.
My new assignments for Youth Today: articles on teenage fans of Japanese music and on movie adaptations of books.
While watching Deutsche Welle, I saw that one of the segments was directed by famed documentary filmaker Werner Herzog. Interesting. Also found out about this stuff:
Takes a long while to load, but has fun food photos by Akiko Ida and Pierre Javalle. Good if you're bored.
Aack, no links for the Bottle Blowing Quintet. Probably because they only perform in Berlin or something. But they sound cool. And they only use tuned beer bottles and one small drum.
Interesting movie links:
for Natalia and anyone else who thinks Michelle Yeoh is cool
a picture of Michelle Yeoh from Sunshine
A movie. Of Perfume. An awesome book. I am in torment.
Great title.
The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything. It's not what you think.
Finally, some of the poems about irony that I put in my creative writing project. Two are by me.
Light Fur and Fat Horses
By Bai Juyi
Arrogance fills the road
and shining saddles light up the dust.
If you ask who these men are
you’ll be told, “Officials close to the emperor.”
Those in red are ministers.
Those in purple are generals.
They are off to attend the army banquet
on horses like racing clouds.
Famous wine brims over the jugs.
They have countless delicacies from water and land.
Their fingers break open Tungting tangerines
and they eat fine fish filets from the Celestial Lake.
They feel so content when full
and their arrogance swells with the wine.
This year on the South bank of the Yangtze River there is drought.
In the State of Chu, people are eating people.
A Passing Glimpse
By Robert Frost
I often see flowers from a passing car
That are gone before I can tell what they are.
I want to get out of the train and go back
To see what they were beside the track.
I name all the flowers I’m sure they weren’t:
Not fireweed loving where wood was burnt-
Not bluebells gracing a tunnel mouth-
Not lupine living on sand and drouth.
Was something brushed across my mind
That no one on earth can ever find?
Heaven gives its glimpses only to those
Not in position to look too close.
For Eternity
By Diandra Rodriguez
Once again, she pushes herself to the edge.
For some reason, she feels invincible.
memory refuses to reveal why
She is caressed by flames
Entranced by the blade, even as it cuts her
Poison is candy
And falling, even to death, is freedom.
Living: an occasionally interesting way to pass time
Before the next fix calls her name
Today, that fix is delivered by bullet.
A man, a hunter shoots her down
In desiring her red-gold feathers
He has brought her what she desires
She sees the sun in the distance-
Is it sunrise or sunset?
Eternally addicted
The phoenix bursts into flames, then ashes.
Ozymandias
By Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
America
By Claude McKay
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth.
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth:
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate.
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there.
Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
Everyday Miracles
By Diandra Rodriguez
She walks on the ocean of streets and sidewalks
Unsolved mysteries pass by,
Occasionally trip or shove
She doesn’t mind; pinpricks, when routine,
Stop hurting after a while
The destination is reached.
A bulwark of steel, tinted glass
Company’s name- center of a fountain in front
Years before, she had turned to her friends
Pointed at people entering the building
Laughed
Scorned
Now, the friends are gone
Now, she enters the building
Suitcase in hand, her face is marble
As she crosses the threshold
From sunlight to stone tile floor
Once, she would have thought this feat impossible
But this is the age of everyday miracles
When only the scars of dreams
Remind us of who we once were.
Buying Flowers
By Bai Juyi
Spring’s dusk comes to the imperial city.
Rattle, clatter, carriages and horses pass.
Everyone is saying, “It’s peony season,”
and I follow them to buy flowers.
Expensive or cheap, there is no fixed cost,
prices shift with the number of blossoms.
Though a hundred red ones are like flames, flames,
even a small bouquet is worth five rolls of silk.
Canopies are used to cover the flowers
and bamboo frames protect them.
They are sprinkled and sealed with mud
so that, transplanted, their color doesn’t change.
Every household follows this craze,
and no one wakes up from the addiction
Now an old farmer
chances by the flower market,
lowers his head and sighs alone.
No one understands his sigh.
One cluster of deep-colored flowers
would pay the taxes of ten households.
Ninja-dash away!
Good stuff. Too much of the abstract words at first, but the little twists and details are great. I've always thought Christian Bale was good, whether as a little boy in Empire of the Sun to Jesus in a TV movie to...tons of movies. Good choice for Batman, though he goes a bit hard on the gravelly voice in the Batsuit. The ninja stuff had me grinning with insane joy. Katie Holmes didn't annoy me as much as I thought she would. Gary Oldman was exactly as I imagined Gordon would be, and I've always liked Morgan Freeman and Rutger Hauer. Too bad Ken Watanabe was underused, though. Liam Neeson was great in his part as well, though the abundance of abstract words was getting a bit annoying during the training.
It was cool how they used lesser known characters like Ra's al Ghul, Carmine Falcone, and the Scarecrow. Ever since I watched the excellent 90's cartoons I thought that the Scarecrow was one of the best Batman villians. Cillian Murphy (the guy in my icon in last week's post) had this down-key creepiness that was really magnetic. One question though: How does one pronounce Ra's al Ghul? The cartoon pronounced the first name like raish, while the movie says ras/ Hmm.
Taping the fashion show last week was exhausting yet fun. Heard while passing by models on the way to the bathroom: "I need to take off my eyebrows." When I walked into the bathroom, this male model gave a surprised look at me and said, "I guess this is the girl's bathroom." But the other girls were okay with it- they were doing his makeup by the sink and chatting and all.
Saw Chinatown in Video Class. Good stuff.
Just passed the halfway mark in Battle Royale. I had forgotten how vivid that eyeball-popping scene was.
My new assignments for Youth Today: articles on teenage fans of Japanese music and on movie adaptations of books.
While watching Deutsche Welle, I saw that one of the segments was directed by famed documentary filmaker Werner Herzog. Interesting. Also found out about this stuff:
Takes a long while to load, but has fun food photos by Akiko Ida and Pierre Javalle. Good if you're bored.
Aack, no links for the Bottle Blowing Quintet. Probably because they only perform in Berlin or something. But they sound cool. And they only use tuned beer bottles and one small drum.
Interesting movie links:
for Natalia and anyone else who thinks Michelle Yeoh is cool
a picture of Michelle Yeoh from Sunshine
A movie. Of Perfume. An awesome book. I am in torment.
Great title.
The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything. It's not what you think.
Finally, some of the poems about irony that I put in my creative writing project. Two are by me.
Light Fur and Fat Horses
By Bai Juyi
Arrogance fills the road
and shining saddles light up the dust.
If you ask who these men are
you’ll be told, “Officials close to the emperor.”
Those in red are ministers.
Those in purple are generals.
They are off to attend the army banquet
on horses like racing clouds.
Famous wine brims over the jugs.
They have countless delicacies from water and land.
Their fingers break open Tungting tangerines
and they eat fine fish filets from the Celestial Lake.
They feel so content when full
and their arrogance swells with the wine.
This year on the South bank of the Yangtze River there is drought.
In the State of Chu, people are eating people.
A Passing Glimpse
By Robert Frost
I often see flowers from a passing car
That are gone before I can tell what they are.
I want to get out of the train and go back
To see what they were beside the track.
I name all the flowers I’m sure they weren’t:
Not fireweed loving where wood was burnt-
Not bluebells gracing a tunnel mouth-
Not lupine living on sand and drouth.
Was something brushed across my mind
That no one on earth can ever find?
Heaven gives its glimpses only to those
Not in position to look too close.
For Eternity
By Diandra Rodriguez
Once again, she pushes herself to the edge.
For some reason, she feels invincible.
memory refuses to reveal why
She is caressed by flames
Entranced by the blade, even as it cuts her
Poison is candy
And falling, even to death, is freedom.
Living: an occasionally interesting way to pass time
Before the next fix calls her name
Today, that fix is delivered by bullet.
A man, a hunter shoots her down
In desiring her red-gold feathers
He has brought her what she desires
She sees the sun in the distance-
Is it sunrise or sunset?
Eternally addicted
The phoenix bursts into flames, then ashes.
Ozymandias
By Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
America
By Claude McKay
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth.
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth:
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate.
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there.
Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
Everyday Miracles
By Diandra Rodriguez
She walks on the ocean of streets and sidewalks
Unsolved mysteries pass by,
Occasionally trip or shove
She doesn’t mind; pinpricks, when routine,
Stop hurting after a while
The destination is reached.
A bulwark of steel, tinted glass
Company’s name- center of a fountain in front
Years before, she had turned to her friends
Pointed at people entering the building
Laughed
Scorned
Now, the friends are gone
Now, she enters the building
Suitcase in hand, her face is marble
As she crosses the threshold
From sunlight to stone tile floor
Once, she would have thought this feat impossible
But this is the age of everyday miracles
When only the scars of dreams
Remind us of who we once were.
Buying Flowers
By Bai Juyi
Spring’s dusk comes to the imperial city.
Rattle, clatter, carriages and horses pass.
Everyone is saying, “It’s peony season,”
and I follow them to buy flowers.
Expensive or cheap, there is no fixed cost,
prices shift with the number of blossoms.
Though a hundred red ones are like flames, flames,
even a small bouquet is worth five rolls of silk.
Canopies are used to cover the flowers
and bamboo frames protect them.
They are sprinkled and sealed with mud
so that, transplanted, their color doesn’t change.
Every household follows this craze,
and no one wakes up from the addiction
Now an old farmer
chances by the flower market,
lowers his head and sighs alone.
No one understands his sigh.
One cluster of deep-colored flowers
would pay the taxes of ten households.
Ninja-dash away!
