Our eunuch dreams

I was going to post this on Sunday but I was too depressed to do so, but after reading Adriana's post (sorry, friends only) I thought I might as well do it.
On Sunday, after going to see "Little Miss Sunshine," my friends and I ran into a guy called Almitri at a restaurant. I had met him, along with his girlfriend Nadia, when I wanted to tape a short from a 10-minute play I'd written in school. I only wanted Nadia to be in it but they sort of came as a package, so they were both the stars of my little experiment (one of many failed ones).
Anyway, we see him on Sunday and ask what he's doing. Turns out he's in Mexico City, trying out the whole music thing. He's hustling his demo around town, meeting people, getting some good feedback, attempting to find people who are as serious about music as he is -- in short -- he's fighting the good fight.
Then he asks what we're doing...
I'll tell you what we're doing. My friend Valencia, a very talented artist, works in HR; my friend Adrian is middle management in the Juárez equivalent of the Water Utilities; and me? Well, you know me. It was impossible not to feel, that, no matter what we tell ourselves, our dreams are out there and someone else is living them -- or at least doing the legwork to get them.
I must say that I'm closer to what I want to do now than I was while at Diario, which was an all-consuming monster that left little time or energy for anything else, but how much closer? I'm writing more, that's true. But will I ever attain the discipline needed to do something meaningful with what little talent I have?
The other day Adriana was telling me about the football games at her high school, and as she was describing it I got genuinely excited at what I saw in my mind. The first 10 minutes of a high school-set comedy (like "American Graffiti" or "Dazed and Confused" only in Anthony) flashed in my head -- more feeling than thought -- and I knew I just had to do it.
Did I do it?
Well, I'm still working on it. And by working on it I mean turning it over... thinking it over... mulling it over... until it's probably over. Like so many other ideas I've had.
I hope not, though.

In astrology, your 30th birthday (approximately) coincides with the return of Saturn. That is, the planet Saturn returns to the position it had when you were born, and with it comes a time of reckoning. Regardless of whether you believe in that stuff or not, psychologically or astrologically it's a time to either shit or get off the pot, or, more elegantly, it's a time to assess your life and make sure you're doing what you're supposed to be doing.
It's a time to right the course of your life or else you'll be in for more trouble down the line, when Saturn comes back in another 30 years and you find yourself at 60 wondering what happened to your dreams of launching the South El Paso Gentleman Caller-Tribune.

Anywho, big bad planet or no, we should all be lucky enough to be able to look inside ourselves, recognize what we truly want to do and go ahead and do it without being afraid. Because like I always say, if Dune has taught us anything (and I don't think it has) it's that fear is the killer. That, and that in shield fighting, one moves fast on defense, slow on attack, for that is the way of the Muad'Dib.

It would be funnier if I said I wasn't kidding about Dune, but that's just too geeky even for me. Seriously, I don't know about Dune. Seriously.

Why do you hate our troops Keith?

Seriously Matt, don't try this at home

Girls on film, part one

French director Jean-Luc Godard said that all you need to make a film is “a girl and a gun.” Since I know less about guns than I know about women, I'll skip the gun and go straight to the girl. Here are five women in five movies that I highly recommend.

Sean Young in Blade Runner
I don't know if androids dream of electric sheep, but I sure dreamt about Young's Rachael, the replicant that Harrison Ford falls in love with in this fantastic sf film. I remember watching this on video and being disappointed that it didn't have more action, but the movie stuck with me, along with Young's hauntingly beautiful performance.
I eventually bought the video and -- these being the days before the Internet and my rudimentary knowledge of photography -- I tried to take a picture of Young off the box art. I wound up with ten blurry shots a week later from Walgreen’s.
Did she start my weakness for women with pageboy variants or was it already there? I guess we'll never know. Add another dark intricacy to Ridley Scott's masterpiece.

Lea Thompson in Back to the Future
When I was 10 years old, Thompson was my first movie crush (she is not to be confused with my first 10-year-old movie crush, Natalie Portman… I'm kidding, she was 13).
Hell, the film itself is my first movie crush. More than E.T. (and my age-appropriate crush Drew Barrymore) "Back to the Future" made me feel such wonderful elation that I believe it was at that moment I decided I wanted to make people feel like that too.
I'm sure Thompson had something to do with this though, since I can also happily sit through "Howard the Duck" and a full season of "Caroline in the City."
I remember I thought she was so beautiful I would have gladly screwed over the entire McFly family and stolen her away from that giant nerd husband of hers. This would have negated the existence of Michael J. Fox and saved the world from the Charlie Sheen version of "Spin City," allowing Lea and I to spend the rest of our days in a tropical paradise, basking in the praise of a thankful universe.

Jennifer Jason Leigh in The Hudsucker Proxy
"The Hudsucker Proxy" is a misunderstood and underappreciated comedy by the Coen Brothers with an even more misunderstood and underappreciated performance by Jennifer Jason Leigh.
The Coens' homage/pastiche/parody script and direction is perfectly matched by the film's actors, but none do it better than Leigh. She commits to her nasal, Katherine-Hepburn-at-1000-rpm delivery with such joy and intensity that all her lines bring a smile to my face AND she looks fantastic. There's something about the period clothing and hair that make her pop on screen more so than in her modern roles. She was also perfectly cast as Dorothy Parker but for some reason alcoholic writers are only funny in real life.

Winona Ryder in Heathers
What can be said about this movie that hasn’t been said before? If you've never seen it you are missing out on… oh, wait… the other day I lent the President of Borundi "Requiem for a Dream," which Adriana and I sold as "a fantastic movie" and "you've got to see it." He came back with "It's OK. You just oversold it."
Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Fortunately you can't oversell "Heathers," a dark, biting satire with a post-Beetlejuice, pre-backing-out-of-Godfather-III-and-letting-Sofia-Coppola-butcher-
the-role-of-Mary-Corleone Winona Ryder.
Ryder starred in three of my favorite movies when I was a teen -- "Beetlejuice," "Heathers" and "Edward Scissorhands" -- roles that elevated her to superstardom if the photos that adorned my notebooks were any indication. I saw her latest film, "A Scanner Darkly," this Sunday and even under all that rotoscoping she still looks great.
So please Winona, your shoplifting and prescription drug abuse is no excuse for slumming in Adam Sandler's neighborhood or hanging out with Asia Argento. You've suffered enough, stop punishing yourself. That much-discussed sequel to "Heathers" sounds like and excellent idea for a comeback

Gillian Anderson in The House of Mirth
Criminally underrated, "The House of Mirth" should have gotten Anderson an Academy Award. She perfectly captures the proud nature of Edith Wharton's heroine, a woman who obstinately follows the rigid rules of a society that doesn't truly obey them.
Anderson is gorgeous as the doomed Lily Bart, striking the perfect balance in a character who is willful, independent and ultimately naïve. I can't recommend this movie highly enough, mainly because nobody's seen it.
In a world were a needless rethread like "Pride and Prejudice" can get 40-year-old virgins' hearts a flutter with a bland Mr. Darcy and nab mediocre boy/girl Keira Knightley an Oscar nomination, it is truly a crime that "The House of Mirth" didn't find an audience.
As for "X-Files" fans, my fellow nerds shouldn't tear down their Agent Scully poster, they should just make room for a Lily Bart headshot next to it.

Next week: All-pageboy post featuring Louise Brooks, Uma Thurman, Elina Löwensohn, Isabelle Hupert, and a pre-op Kate Beckinsale. Be there!

Schadenfreude

The first time I tried to edit a story by Alberto Ponce de León he was standing right behind me. The second I separated his lead from the rest of the text, simply to be able to read it better, he started complaining. What changes are you going to make? What’s wrong with the lead as is? Wait, wait, wait, what are you doing again? They say first impressions are vital and this guy had definitely made one.
Alberto participated in the recent NAHJ event at UTEP, where his self-serving performance was greeted with questions not unlike "Who is this asshole?" and "Seriously, who is this asshole?" by some conference attendees. Like I said, the guy knows how to make an impression.

Who is this guy anyway?
Since I don't pay much attention to the people I don't care for, I can't remember where he came from or how he was hired. All I know is that he studied business administration and that the first time they told me about him I was a little jealous. Here was this guy, my age, who had already produced two kids and two books (fiction, of course).

Getting to know him I found him to be my least favorite type of person, a self-promoting blowhard that could barely back up what he was pedaling. He was a good writer when he wanted to, but he felt most assignments were beneath him and would treat them accordingly. He considered himself a BIG reporter and only BIG stories would do. What ultimately did him in were his two biggest weaknesses -- arrogance and laziness.
He never bothered to learn English properly -- not for the level he wanted to play at -- yet he thought he could wing it on natural talent and that "reporter's instinct" he always claimed to posses. It was only a matter of time before a certain lawyer came into his life.
Caballero told Alberto a tail of government corruption that focused on one of Diario editor Gerardo Rodriguez's favorite targets, District Attorney Jaime Esparza. Esparza was violating THE TEXAS CONSTITUTION, ladies and gentleman, through his use of the DIMS program and so far the Times had ignored this (as usual). It was up to the paragons of journalistic virtue at El Diario to uncover this travesty. Unfortunately, in their minds the fact that they might actually find something improper in the DIMS investigation was secondary. What mattered for Alberto was the glory of going up against the district attorney, for Gerardo, it was the "power" he would gain by showing he could take down a county official. Long story short, they caused a stir with the stories but ultimately it came to nothing.

How could he be so stupid?
Lazy and conceited. That's it. That's the answer.
• He couldn't stick around for the entire trial since he probably had more important things to do.
• He spoke with Crawford's lawyer, misunderstood what she said, then he didn't bother to double-check anything. Not even by turning on the TV.
• He probably invented her direct quote from bits of things she did say.

Ace reporter
One time Alberto…
• Attempted to "infiltrate" the Para de Sufrir folks, just your run-of-the-mill religious charlatans. The investigation ended after he didn't want to put up his own money to put in the collection plate.
• Attempted to follow some mysterious vans that were ferrying Chinese buffet staff from their workplace to their homes. The investigation ended when he saw he was short on gas.
• Purchased drugs to prove how easy it was to obtain them in El Paso (stop the presses!). He told Sambrano about it and Javier very nicely told him it was a crime and that he would be arrested. The investigation ended.

I could post more but it's getting late, so I'll close with this quote. Guess if it's George the pornographer from Hal Hartley's "Amateur" or Alberto Ponce de León?

"My aspiration was defamatory journalism. My big ambition in life was to get my hands on smutty pictures of the president's mistress. I wanted to undermine huge corporations. Sow the seeds of revolt by publishing the sordid details of high-level government corruption. But, you know, things happen. We drift away from our vocation."

Remember when the music

When I was 15 I became obsessed with the music of Harry Chapin. I thought his "story songs" were fantastic and they spoke to my teenage concepts of justice/injustice, love and regret.
Imagine my heartbreak when I read a Rolling Stone review that called one of his records "… a collection of story-songs as mundane, vacuous, overblown and cliché-ridden as any he's ever written." And as for Harry himself, well, apparently "No singer/songwriter, not even Rod McKuen, apotheosizes romantic self-pity with such shameless vulgarity."
Ouch and double ouch.
There's a post in me about being an asshole critic (on the radio I sometimes blasted bad movies that had somehow personally offended me with vitriolic intensity) but that's for another day. Today it's about being a fan of the terribly uncool.

Exhibit ABBA
"No, seriously, have you ever been attracted to guys?"
That was Perla's reaction to the story of how I'd named at least 10 songs off ABBA Gold when talking to Matt about VH1's World Series of Pop Culture. Thanks honey.
Her little dismissive remark reminded me of the time Jay said Nellie McKay was for "kids" (but seeing as how his mommy still combs his hair maybe it was a compliment).
For the record, ABBA produced a lot of cheese, but they also produced pop gems that I dare anyone to assail. Sure, for every "Like an Angel Passing through My Room" there's a "Love Isn't Easy (But It Sure Is Hard Enough)," but have you heard Nirvana's With the Lights Out box set? 'nuff said.
ABBA's production rivals that of Phil Spector in its sheer inventiveness and musical power, listen to "Waterloo" or "The Winner Takes It All" and tell me those aren't great songs. (Seriously... do it. No? Fine, be that way).
Ironically the critical reception to ABBA (even in Rolling-fucking-Stone) was excellent, and it's only an extension of the disco backlash that sent a lot of people's perception of the group into the gutter. That perception hasn't been helped by the blue-hair friendly musical "Mamma Mia!” Oh, Broadway, over 100 years of ruining it for straight people.

Billy Joel
No, not Billy Joe Royal, Billy Joel.
Some of you may find this hard to believe, but for a lot of people the Piano Man himself is anathema. For these hipster douchebags he ranks next to Neil Diamond in the Sunny 99.9 play list of the damned. Although if you think about it, if anyone's playing in Hell it's probably all those Christian acts that betrayed God and succumbed to the devil's music, like Creed or poor Amy Grant (sorry Amy, I don't make the rules).
But anyway, back to Billy Joel.
I know he's not cool; he's too damn popular for that. If he were unpopular he'd be Marshall Crenshaw or Ron Sexsmith, great pop singer/songwriters I've never had to defend because nobody's heard of them. Joel has serious ambitions, he even "retired" in 1993 to write classical piano pieces, but he doesn't take himself too seriously, is a great piano player and has crafted great songs like "Piano Man," "Just the Way You Are," "Honesty," "An Innocent Man," and countless others.

Jim Steinman
Calling your only record Bad for Good is not a smart move when you're the driving force behind such classics of bombast as "Bat out of Hell," "Paradise By the Dashboard Light" and "Rock n' Roll Dreams Come True." But Jim Steinman -- through Meat Loaf, Bonnie Tyler and even Celine Dion -- has produced some of the best of the worst.
These songs are so crazy-wrong that defending them is, well, crazy and wrong. But just like some of the more misshapen personalities in the newsroom, you can't help but love them in spite of yourself.
Here's a little rundown. Weep before the master.
- "Total Eclipse of the Heart"
- "Making Love Out of Nothing at All"
- "It's All Coming Back To Me Now"
- "I’d Do Anything for Love, but I Won’t Do That"
- "Two Out of Three ain't Bad"
- "You Took the Words Right out of my Mouth"
- "Stark Raving Love" (not a hit just a ridiculous title)

Next time
We take a look at the president of Borundi's record collection in alphabetical order. First up: A Gun Called Tension and Air Supply.