what we did to afghanistan
last night mom and dad and i went to see charlie wilson's war.
the first thing that happens at a movie is the previews. generally i get all excited about previews, and then when the movie actually starts i feel like i'm ready to go home. but who's idea was it to make the slides into ads, like on television? after all the crappy ads, dad and i decided we would like to have an ad agency where we didn't think of anything ourselves, but just told other people when their ads were crap.
that national guard music video was on again. it was on when kalen and i went to see the darjeeling limited. she had started to cry, out of grief, i suppose, and the knowledge of how this rhetorical object has claimed a part of our generation. it's a fascinating ad: the band; the song's lyrics; the dark backdrop; the images of iconic american wars; the images of my classmates and doing nothing; victims; the confusing linking of soldier with citizenship. i could write a pound of analysis on those three short minutes, which is perhaps how i deal.
then the film. it was definitely an aaron sorkin script, alive with characters human although they are the agents of history. i have an instinct (though not, apparently, an imperative) to peel off the the womanizing, the auction, joanna's crisp and complex "sluts." and his religion is steel yet excuses into affairs, and invoking God because we need him on our side. but sometimes it makes a terrific sense to me.
and of course it was a wonderful film. philip seymour hoffman, by the way, stars in the delightfully named upcoming charlie kaufman film, synecdoche, new york. power, and grandeur, together--d.c. but you see what power really is--it's own animal--when the momentum falls out after the weapons have done their work. when they were working--it was just weeks after i was born. and within a handful of years we did what gust had warned against, banking on a victory instead of on contingency. we're doing it again, of course. what i think i realized was that talking about iraq in terms of troop withdrawal is basically asking the wrong question. the question is who will invest in life, rather than violence.
i think making theater of history is interesting, and important. there might be something to get at there about performativity.
ps, i love dykes to watch out for. last night i reread the part in invasion where sydney goes to the mla conference. i'm not exactly scripting--except maybe a bit from the panel presentation. my paper from crowley's class is going to texas (yeehaw?)!
the first thing that happens at a movie is the previews. generally i get all excited about previews, and then when the movie actually starts i feel like i'm ready to go home. but who's idea was it to make the slides into ads, like on television? after all the crappy ads, dad and i decided we would like to have an ad agency where we didn't think of anything ourselves, but just told other people when their ads were crap.
that national guard music video was on again. it was on when kalen and i went to see the darjeeling limited. she had started to cry, out of grief, i suppose, and the knowledge of how this rhetorical object has claimed a part of our generation. it's a fascinating ad: the band; the song's lyrics; the dark backdrop; the images of iconic american wars; the images of my classmates and doing nothing; victims; the confusing linking of soldier with citizenship. i could write a pound of analysis on those three short minutes, which is perhaps how i deal.
then the film. it was definitely an aaron sorkin script, alive with characters human although they are the agents of history. i have an instinct (though not, apparently, an imperative) to peel off the the womanizing, the auction, joanna's crisp and complex "sluts." and his religion is steel yet excuses into affairs, and invoking God because we need him on our side. but sometimes it makes a terrific sense to me.
and of course it was a wonderful film. philip seymour hoffman, by the way, stars in the delightfully named upcoming charlie kaufman film, synecdoche, new york. power, and grandeur, together--d.c. but you see what power really is--it's own animal--when the momentum falls out after the weapons have done their work. when they were working--it was just weeks after i was born. and within a handful of years we did what gust had warned against, banking on a victory instead of on contingency. we're doing it again, of course. what i think i realized was that talking about iraq in terms of troop withdrawal is basically asking the wrong question. the question is who will invest in life, rather than violence.
i think making theater of history is interesting, and important. there might be something to get at there about performativity.
ps, i love dykes to watch out for. last night i reread the part in invasion where sydney goes to the mla conference. i'm not exactly scripting--except maybe a bit from the panel presentation. my paper from crowley's class is going to texas (yeehaw?)!