Memoirs of a Geisha
I wish you all a beautiful weekend. I also wish you'd read this post.
The fact that this song is in really poorly-pronounced Japanese is mildly ironic.
I. Winter
Supposedly, 5-10 inches of snow will accumulate tonight.
Regardless, winter is here. I have piled a foot of blankets on my bed; the pressure and weight is so great that I can scarcely move underneath them. I sleep so fucking well in the cold, with alot of blankets. I haven't used my heat much at all, at night I don't even turn it on. I just have my blankets, and my garage door, and the weight. The light of the city will reflect purply downward as snowy fingers come down to fill the little valley in front of my house. I am excited.
II. Japan
Yaoi is a beautiful thing; I argue some of it is the most advanced homoerotic art in the world. However, I read something about it this week incredibly depressing. The main fanbase for Yaoi is Japanese women; these women for some reason adore the concept of male/male love, and I never really understood the cultural reason for this.
"In Confucian Japan, women’s sexuality has long been tied up with reproduction and the family system and this has made it difficult to represent women romantically involved with men as their partners and equals. As one Japanese fan of ‘homosexuality’ expressed to Sara Schulman ‘images of male homosexuality are the only picture we have of men loving someone as an equal," she says, "it’s the kind of love we want to have."
Profoundly sad.
I hate how mysogynistic Japanese culture is. If I was sitting in a hottub with the incarnatation of Japanese culture, I'd be like 'yeah, I'm a huge fan. But man... you are seriously fucked up."
III. Yeoh, Michelle!
Michelle Yeoh was on the daily show last night; if I was having doubts about Memoirs of a Geisha, those doubts are gone. She's amazing. Michelle Yeoh is arguably the most talented actress in the world. She's a dancer, she's a martial artist, she plays the Shamisen, she's a brilliant performer in every way. And she's intelligent. She talked with Jon Stewart about the Geisha's "seven rooms of torture" where they learned the 7 arts most important to the Geisha way of life. She's brilliant.
IV. The Emperor
The semester is almost done, and I have to admit something. This has been some of the greatest three months of my life. I have, arguably, learned more, wholly changed, worked better, and acheived things to an extent I've never been close to before. I'm at the highest and greatest I've ever been.
In these last few days of class, I leave behind five male instructors who I will miss deeply.
dorky Dr. Tom Zimmerman and his irrational weirdness.(He amuses me)
eccentric Dave Sims with his bald head and his constant throat clearing and his love of art. (I respect him)
handsome old George Matthews with his constant gadflying me with difficult ideas.(I adore him)
David London with his constant bitching and berating students (I honor him)
Charles Kemnitz--what can I say? (I honor, respect, and adore him.)
I have arguably never had many father figures; however, this semester I had a pleathora. I will never forget this semester (unless I have alzheimers or something).
The fact that this song is in really poorly-pronounced Japanese is mildly ironic.
I. Winter
Supposedly, 5-10 inches of snow will accumulate tonight.
Regardless, winter is here. I have piled a foot of blankets on my bed; the pressure and weight is so great that I can scarcely move underneath them. I sleep so fucking well in the cold, with alot of blankets. I haven't used my heat much at all, at night I don't even turn it on. I just have my blankets, and my garage door, and the weight. The light of the city will reflect purply downward as snowy fingers come down to fill the little valley in front of my house. I am excited.
II. Japan
Yaoi is a beautiful thing; I argue some of it is the most advanced homoerotic art in the world. However, I read something about it this week incredibly depressing. The main fanbase for Yaoi is Japanese women; these women for some reason adore the concept of male/male love, and I never really understood the cultural reason for this.
"In Confucian Japan, women’s sexuality has long been tied up with reproduction and the family system and this has made it difficult to represent women romantically involved with men as their partners and equals. As one Japanese fan of ‘homosexuality’ expressed to Sara Schulman ‘images of male homosexuality are the only picture we have of men loving someone as an equal," she says, "it’s the kind of love we want to have."
Profoundly sad.
I hate how mysogynistic Japanese culture is. If I was sitting in a hottub with the incarnatation of Japanese culture, I'd be like 'yeah, I'm a huge fan. But man... you are seriously fucked up."
III. Yeoh, Michelle!
Michelle Yeoh was on the daily show last night; if I was having doubts about Memoirs of a Geisha, those doubts are gone. She's amazing. Michelle Yeoh is arguably the most talented actress in the world. She's a dancer, she's a martial artist, she plays the Shamisen, she's a brilliant performer in every way. And she's intelligent. She talked with Jon Stewart about the Geisha's "seven rooms of torture" where they learned the 7 arts most important to the Geisha way of life. She's brilliant.
IV. The Emperor
The semester is almost done, and I have to admit something. This has been some of the greatest three months of my life. I have, arguably, learned more, wholly changed, worked better, and acheived things to an extent I've never been close to before. I'm at the highest and greatest I've ever been.
In these last few days of class, I leave behind five male instructors who I will miss deeply.
dorky Dr. Tom Zimmerman and his irrational weirdness.(He amuses me)
eccentric Dave Sims with his bald head and his constant throat clearing and his love of art. (I respect him)
handsome old George Matthews with his constant gadflying me with difficult ideas.(I adore him)
David London with his constant bitching and berating students (I honor him)
Charles Kemnitz--what can I say? (I honor, respect, and adore him.)
I have arguably never had many father figures; however, this semester I had a pleathora. I will never forget this semester (unless I have alzheimers or something).