Friday, August 31, 2007
In da Club
I have nothing to say except that it's amazing how Americanized clubs are in terms of music. Americanized means African-Americanized, of course. And, Billie Jean-Stronger-Mo' Money, Mo' Problems is a great 1-2-3.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Stratford:Cooperstown::England:US
1) See the title. Understandably, Stratford is devoted to its most famous son, as Cooperstown is devoted to its sport. Beyond memorials for Shakespeare’s birthplace and tomb, allusions to Shakespeare abound. The boats in the canal are named for Shakespeare’s best heroines, for example. A café is entitled “The Food of Love,” after Twelfth Night’s famous first line. My favorite is “Iago’s Jewellers.” Because the association you, as a shopkeeper, want to have with your product is pure, unmitigated evil.
2) Here’s what testifies to Shakespeare’s greatness, beyond the usual metrics of masterpieces and turns of wit made. When we went to Shakespeare’s grave, we passed through a graveyard. Many of the gravestones were worn down by time and invaded by green moss. None were famous; none would have been seen if not for Shakespeare. His grave is inside the church, an indication of his fame. His grave is also the only one there is a charge to see. It was minimal, and we paid it. Ahead of us in line were a pair of Brazilians whose attire was more appropriate for clubs, runaways or groupies (I approved). We stood around and looked at the grave.
One of the hot Brazilians said, “I can’t believe he came up with the Tempest.” And that was that for Shakespeare’s grave. But think about this: first, beyond the Brazilians, there were people of all different races around—he really is universal—and second, Shakespeare probably wrote three plays a year! Fucking jackass with his fucking talent. His worst stuff’s better than my best. It’s too unfair.
3) After we hung around Stratford for a while, we went to the main event of the day, the Royal Shakespeare Company’s performance of Twelfth Night. It was mediocre. There were some strange choices. John Lithgow was in the play. He was not mediocre; his choices were not unconventional.
The play has a character who cross-dresses throughout the play; she’s supposed to be a woman. In the RSC performance, she was played by a dude. Similarly, two of the male characters were performed by women. Why? Because the play’s got a lot of cross-dressing anyway! I shouldn’t be so flip; the decision was potentially good but ruined by either the actors or the directors. Viola was played as a schmuck and utterly unattractive and yet somehow manages to attract several characters who testify to her competence. The female men were over-the-top caricatures.
But John Lithgow and the Fool were funny and redeemed much.
4) I can only conclude that England loves its tradition. England drives on the left side and no one else does; it uses the ‘pint’ measurement for beer and metric measurement with everything else; it clutches to the pound. And most amusingly, the coins are differently sized: the penny is the smallest, but the nickel smaller than that; the ten-pence piece is about the size of a quarter, but the twenty-pence piece smaller than the ten; the two-pence piece is gigantic, larger than all other coins, even the fifty. The one-pound piece, although it’s thick, is about the size of a twenty-pence piece. It makes no sense beyond that’s how we do it here in England. And I guess I’ve got to go along with it.
5) I saw a bus today with this advertisement: it featured a pretty-looking cartoon woman with green hair with the accompanying text, “Cinderella, this coach will take you to London, and it won’t turn into a pumpkin at night.” So does that mean that the residents of Oxford are abused, neglected stepchildren? Who abuses them? And if Oxford, a city with a pulse, is abused and neglected, what does that make even lamer cities? Dead with the heart stopped?
6) There are beautiful swans in the canal at Stratford. They do not swim so much as glide, and their white feathers are unsullied.
2) Here’s what testifies to Shakespeare’s greatness, beyond the usual metrics of masterpieces and turns of wit made. When we went to Shakespeare’s grave, we passed through a graveyard. Many of the gravestones were worn down by time and invaded by green moss. None were famous; none would have been seen if not for Shakespeare. His grave is inside the church, an indication of his fame. His grave is also the only one there is a charge to see. It was minimal, and we paid it. Ahead of us in line were a pair of Brazilians whose attire was more appropriate for clubs, runaways or groupies (I approved). We stood around and looked at the grave.
One of the hot Brazilians said, “I can’t believe he came up with the Tempest.” And that was that for Shakespeare’s grave. But think about this: first, beyond the Brazilians, there were people of all different races around—he really is universal—and second, Shakespeare probably wrote three plays a year! Fucking jackass with his fucking talent. His worst stuff’s better than my best. It’s too unfair.
3) After we hung around Stratford for a while, we went to the main event of the day, the Royal Shakespeare Company’s performance of Twelfth Night. It was mediocre. There were some strange choices. John Lithgow was in the play. He was not mediocre; his choices were not unconventional.
The play has a character who cross-dresses throughout the play; she’s supposed to be a woman. In the RSC performance, she was played by a dude. Similarly, two of the male characters were performed by women. Why? Because the play’s got a lot of cross-dressing anyway! I shouldn’t be so flip; the decision was potentially good but ruined by either the actors or the directors. Viola was played as a schmuck and utterly unattractive and yet somehow manages to attract several characters who testify to her competence. The female men were over-the-top caricatures.
But John Lithgow and the Fool were funny and redeemed much.
4) I can only conclude that England loves its tradition. England drives on the left side and no one else does; it uses the ‘pint’ measurement for beer and metric measurement with everything else; it clutches to the pound. And most amusingly, the coins are differently sized: the penny is the smallest, but the nickel smaller than that; the ten-pence piece is about the size of a quarter, but the twenty-pence piece smaller than the ten; the two-pence piece is gigantic, larger than all other coins, even the fifty. The one-pound piece, although it’s thick, is about the size of a twenty-pence piece. It makes no sense beyond that’s how we do it here in England. And I guess I’ve got to go along with it.
5) I saw a bus today with this advertisement: it featured a pretty-looking cartoon woman with green hair with the accompanying text, “Cinderella, this coach will take you to London, and it won’t turn into a pumpkin at night.” So does that mean that the residents of Oxford are abused, neglected stepchildren? Who abuses them? And if Oxford, a city with a pulse, is abused and neglected, what does that make even lamer cities? Dead with the heart stopped?
6) There are beautiful swans in the canal at Stratford. They do not swim so much as glide, and their white feathers are unsullied.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
I think I'm being watched
1) One thing that’s pretty disturbing about England is its reliance on CCTV. In London, practically every intersection has a camera on it. London is not alone in its usage; Oxford relies on it to a lesser extent. Further, the British advertise their reliance on CCTV. Big Brother truly is watching. But at the same time, it’s not quite 1984, because these cameras haven’t invaded the home. An example: if I were foolish enough to grow pot on my front lawn, and the police passed by and saw it, it’s a tenet of both our systems that you’re pretty fucking dumb and should suffer the consequences. But constant surveillance, to me at least, feels qualitatively different from, say, patrols. It occupies that gray area, you know? And that’s no fun.
2) Boot’s is the English equivalent of CVS. In my visits there, I’ve been impressed. It’s so clean, and there are a battalion of people whose only job is to hang around at attention and answer your questions. Very helpful, especially when you need something obscure; but at the same time, it feels somewhat superfluous. Although it might be that that’s cultural influences at work; US capitalism is focused on cutting costs over good service.
3) Interestingly, although the US is often decried for rampant consumerism/materialism in comparison to our European counterparts, my amateur sociology indicates otherwise. There are two malls and lots and lots of shoe stories, clothing stores, and the like for a city of about 150,000. This seems perhaps a bit high although not particularly unusual for the United States. Qualitatively, the people in Oxford definitely dress a little more designer-y, but not by much.
Related to the charges of consumerism and materialism are charges of statusp-consciousness and conspicuous consumption. I’ve always felt college stores and college memorabilia to be related to the latter phenomenon. Look how cool I am! I go to Harvard/Stanford/Oxford/other school here! Oxford has about three of those stores, I think, and none of them ever fill to bursting or at all.
4) Tidbits: The bathroom nearest me has no doorhandle on the inside, even though it opens towards you...Every door claims it's a fire door that must be kept shut...English pronunciation is similar to New England’s pronunciation in that it is fucked up: if someone can explain to me why Magdalen is pronounced “Maudlin”, or Worchester is pronounced “Wooster”, I will buy them a pony and call them a genius...Budweiser Budvar puts American Budweiser to shame, not unsurprisingly...This is how soccer-obsessed the nation is: the front page of some paper today contains a picture, center and top fold, of signed soccer shoes a professional player donated to a family grieving its football-obsessed son...
5) The only worn religious iconography I’ve seen has been this: a neon-orange cross, matched perfectly with his Dorito-orange Nike shoes, and his orange-text A&F shirt.
2) Boot’s is the English equivalent of CVS. In my visits there, I’ve been impressed. It’s so clean, and there are a battalion of people whose only job is to hang around at attention and answer your questions. Very helpful, especially when you need something obscure; but at the same time, it feels somewhat superfluous. Although it might be that that’s cultural influences at work; US capitalism is focused on cutting costs over good service.
3) Interestingly, although the US is often decried for rampant consumerism/materialism in comparison to our European counterparts, my amateur sociology indicates otherwise. There are two malls and lots and lots of shoe stories, clothing stores, and the like for a city of about 150,000. This seems perhaps a bit high although not particularly unusual for the United States. Qualitatively, the people in Oxford definitely dress a little more designer-y, but not by much.
Related to the charges of consumerism and materialism are charges of statusp-consciousness and conspicuous consumption. I’ve always felt college stores and college memorabilia to be related to the latter phenomenon. Look how cool I am! I go to Harvard/Stanford/Oxford/other school here! Oxford has about three of those stores, I think, and none of them ever fill to bursting or at all.
4) Tidbits: The bathroom nearest me has no doorhandle on the inside, even though it opens towards you...Every door claims it's a fire door that must be kept shut...English pronunciation is similar to New England’s pronunciation in that it is fucked up: if someone can explain to me why Magdalen is pronounced “Maudlin”, or Worchester is pronounced “Wooster”, I will buy them a pony and call them a genius...Budweiser Budvar puts American Budweiser to shame, not unsurprisingly...This is how soccer-obsessed the nation is: the front page of some paper today contains a picture, center and top fold, of signed soccer shoes a professional player donated to a family grieving its football-obsessed son...
5) The only worn religious iconography I’ve seen has been this: a neon-orange cross, matched perfectly with his Dorito-orange Nike shoes, and his orange-text A&F shirt.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
"That's the Good Place."
1) Or, what our acting teacher said during warm-ups today. I disagree. As a notoriously inflexible human being (in all senses of the word), that (referring to a particular stretch in a seemingly endless routine) was not “the good place.” A hilarious unintentional comedy moment was our exercising our tongues by sticking them out while the stereo blared, “kind of like making love.”
2) There’s been this kid bothering me so far. Well, not bothering me personally, but it’s a general bother. Because it’s a mystery. This is a kid who skates around on rollerblades but who is very incompetent and goes crashing into people. They always react highly negatively but then, when they see him, have a very specific reaction: “you scamp! You rogue!” as if they know the kid. I don’t know why. I’ve seen him crash into four or five people, and none have reacted negatively to his face.
3) Speaking of mysteries, European taste in American sports teams is highly strange. I’ve seen a throwback Koren Robinson Seahawks jersey and an Atlanta Braves cap. Neither team is bad per se, but it’s just two weird teams to like. Almost as if I started rooting for, I don’t know, Man City or some obscure soccer team like that.
Also, European taste in hip-hop is deeply skewed. I heard that "Tipsy" song today several times. And Mr. Bean's Holiday is getting pimped like a two-dollar whore.
4) My iPod is probably broken. It gave me the unhappy face. That’s a fucking tragedy.
5) Yay for Ashcroft resigning! Weird timing like Rove, but I'm sure both will land on their feet.
6) This video is hilarious:
2) There’s been this kid bothering me so far. Well, not bothering me personally, but it’s a general bother. Because it’s a mystery. This is a kid who skates around on rollerblades but who is very incompetent and goes crashing into people. They always react highly negatively but then, when they see him, have a very specific reaction: “you scamp! You rogue!” as if they know the kid. I don’t know why. I’ve seen him crash into four or five people, and none have reacted negatively to his face.
3) Speaking of mysteries, European taste in American sports teams is highly strange. I’ve seen a throwback Koren Robinson Seahawks jersey and an Atlanta Braves cap. Neither team is bad per se, but it’s just two weird teams to like. Almost as if I started rooting for, I don’t know, Man City or some obscure soccer team like that.
Also, European taste in hip-hop is deeply skewed. I heard that "Tipsy" song today several times. And Mr. Bean's Holiday is getting pimped like a two-dollar whore.
4) My iPod is probably broken. It gave me the unhappy face. That’s a fucking tragedy.
5) Yay for Ashcroft resigning! Weird timing like Rove, but I'm sure both will land on their feet.
6) This video is hilarious:
Monday, August 27, 2007
The New College…Founded in 1379
1) The title is as good a summary as any of our Oxford history tour…which is why I’ll expand for much longer than that about it. What’s neat about Oxford (the university) is how crammed together everything is. Everything is a hop, skip and a jump away from one another, first of all. Second, whenever you use your “widescreen” view, and look at the totality of the really old building in question (which are all really well-preserved), you miss out on the small details, with tons of gargoyles and other flourishes. And third, going off the gargoyles note: on the ceiling of the first floor Bodelian Library, there are a ton of random symbols, religious iconography, and coats-of-arms. Which all seems very mysterious until you realize that the symbols and coats-of-arms represent the richer families who donated money to the college for the privilege of having their symbols up there. So, the more things change…
2) Amateur Sociology:
American Fast Food Restaurants in Oxford, as far as I can tell:
PIZZA HUT: 2
STARBUCKS: 2
BURGER KING: 1
McDONALD’s: 1
At Bookstores:
Judging from the number of books at the bookstores, the British are obsessed with Stalin in a similar way that we are with Hitler. Which is all well and good, given that in the US, Stalin is the underrated evil dictator
Also, I saw a book called The Fall-Out by some dude that professes to be about a “liberal” who falls-out of “liberalism”. This intrigued me momentarily, as I thought that the word “liberal” in Europe was essentially the equivalent of “libertarian.” I was wrong: the first paragraph of the dust jacket talks about his support of the Sandinista guerrillas, meaning that the real equivalence of this book are tired old “let’s-bash-the-liberals” genre in America, of the likes of Ann Coulter. Why does the liberal of the book always support something really dumb like the Sandinistas? Why can’t it be something of some possible substance, like the Great Society or something like that?
3) Book Review: Can I Keep My Jersey?
This is a book about a journeyman basketball player named Paul Shirley. He writes about his experiences trying to make it in professional basketball in Russia, Greece, Spain and the U.S. It’s a very entertaining book, as Shirley’s a funny, cynical guy with a good eye for detail. It’s really fun for an NBA fan who wants to guess who he’s cryptically (or not so cryptically) referring to in some of his anecdotes, like the UNLV player making $14 million per year on the Suns who wants to win the lottery “so he’d have it made.” Oh Shawn Marion. Fans of Bill Simmons and Chuck Klosterman will like his style, as it’s in the same vein. Unfortunately, he’s not quite as incisive as the latter, and he often descends into too much of a “woe-is-me” attitude. I really enjoyed it though, mostly because I love basketball. Highly recommended.
4) We went to London today and saw a play called the Five Wives of Maurice Pinter. About a polygamist who’s not a Mormon, thank you very much. We got great seats and a bus, thanks to the Bings—that’s a lot better than a symbol on the ceiling, huh? Anyway, it was an interesting play but missing a certain something that I don’t know about. Good, though: funny and dramatic, exactly the tone I enjoy writing in. I’d recommend that too.
5) Weather is not the reason to visit England
2) Amateur Sociology:
American Fast Food Restaurants in Oxford, as far as I can tell:
PIZZA HUT: 2
STARBUCKS: 2
BURGER KING: 1
McDONALD’s: 1
At Bookstores:
Judging from the number of books at the bookstores, the British are obsessed with Stalin in a similar way that we are with Hitler. Which is all well and good, given that in the US, Stalin is the underrated evil dictator
Also, I saw a book called The Fall-Out by some dude that professes to be about a “liberal” who falls-out of “liberalism”. This intrigued me momentarily, as I thought that the word “liberal” in Europe was essentially the equivalent of “libertarian.” I was wrong: the first paragraph of the dust jacket talks about his support of the Sandinista guerrillas, meaning that the real equivalence of this book are tired old “let’s-bash-the-liberals” genre in America, of the likes of Ann Coulter. Why does the liberal of the book always support something really dumb like the Sandinistas? Why can’t it be something of some possible substance, like the Great Society or something like that?
3) Book Review: Can I Keep My Jersey?
This is a book about a journeyman basketball player named Paul Shirley. He writes about his experiences trying to make it in professional basketball in Russia, Greece, Spain and the U.S. It’s a very entertaining book, as Shirley’s a funny, cynical guy with a good eye for detail. It’s really fun for an NBA fan who wants to guess who he’s cryptically (or not so cryptically) referring to in some of his anecdotes, like the UNLV player making $14 million per year on the Suns who wants to win the lottery “so he’d have it made.” Oh Shawn Marion. Fans of Bill Simmons and Chuck Klosterman will like his style, as it’s in the same vein. Unfortunately, he’s not quite as incisive as the latter, and he often descends into too much of a “woe-is-me” attitude. I really enjoyed it though, mostly because I love basketball. Highly recommended.
4) We went to London today and saw a play called the Five Wives of Maurice Pinter. About a polygamist who’s not a Mormon, thank you very much. We got great seats and a bus, thanks to the Bings—that’s a lot better than a symbol on the ceiling, huh? Anyway, it was an interesting play but missing a certain something that I don’t know about. Good, though: funny and dramatic, exactly the tone I enjoy writing in. I’d recommend that too.
5) Weather is not the reason to visit England
Sunday, August 26, 2007
A Few Observations About My Flight and England
Hey. If you’re reading this, presumably you know me, so you know that I’ll be abroad until December. I decided to start writing a blog so that you guys could know what I’m up to and so I would have a way to systematize the stuff I’ve seen. Usually if I rely on just my long-term memory, I end up forgetting anecdotes and other interesting things I’ve seen, which makes conversations of the “So what did you do in Europe?” sort very difficult, as I either say something bland or strain to remember interesting encounters.
So, this is what travelling was like for me:
1) Both JFK and Heathrow look like the 70s’ idea of a good time. Also, Heathrow really strange: there are no gates, really, and it looks like a nondescript office building on the inside. I’d been expecting more because someone said it was really good. Sure.
2) The urinal in JFK has one of those odor-fighting cake-protectors. I noticed that it was made by a paper company (Dunder-Mifflin, maybe?), that claimed it was “more than just paper…we’re solutions.” Presumably they want me to think of them as a progressive, visionary company. But I really don’t care to think of my paper companies that way. What I want to do is get paper. The amorphous ‘solutions’ that they refer to are probably “major occurrences” that I should probably be solving on my own, or with people who actually have experience with that kind of stuff (I’m thinking here of say, cancer and aliens). Not, at any rate, a paper company. This actually bothered me.
3) I was dreading my flight for a few reasons. I would have to sleep, first of all. This is difficult. Also, flights bother me because there are always a thousand minor annoyances that make you wish you could get your own damn plane. So it was with this flight: two bawling babies competed over who had the most booming lungs. The most bothersome aspect was this. When I sat down in my middle seat (red flag), I found that my neighbor to my right was quite portly and only had a Sudoku book. This didn’t seem like sufficient entertainment for a grown man, because either he was intelligent, and so would solve all the puzzles and grow bored, or he was dumb, and so would be unable to solve any of the puzzles and grow bored. It was actually neither of these two things, as he displayed an impressive sleeping ability: the moment we were in the air, he serenaded us with sonorous snores. He awoke for meals with disturbing precision. He was the aisle seat, so trips to the bathroom were impossible. This would be tolerable for me if it weren’t for the woman in front of me, who apparently decided to exercise her freedom to recline her chair into my face. Also I have problems sleeping on moving objects. Also the very nice steward(ess) team kept insisting that I try wine. This made it difficult to sleep.
4) The best thing about driving from Heathrow to Oxford is how quickly the cityscape morphs to countryside. It’s all soft hills and big trees.
5) Some people claim that dental problems are Britain’s greatest. This is untrue; dermatology is the most troubled of speciality fields in health, if a half-hour walk in Oxford is any guide.
I’ll try to write daily.
So, this is what travelling was like for me:
1) Both JFK and Heathrow look like the 70s’ idea of a good time. Also, Heathrow really strange: there are no gates, really, and it looks like a nondescript office building on the inside. I’d been expecting more because someone said it was really good. Sure.
2) The urinal in JFK has one of those odor-fighting cake-protectors. I noticed that it was made by a paper company (Dunder-Mifflin, maybe?), that claimed it was “more than just paper…we’re solutions.” Presumably they want me to think of them as a progressive, visionary company. But I really don’t care to think of my paper companies that way. What I want to do is get paper. The amorphous ‘solutions’ that they refer to are probably “major occurrences” that I should probably be solving on my own, or with people who actually have experience with that kind of stuff (I’m thinking here of say, cancer and aliens). Not, at any rate, a paper company. This actually bothered me.
3) I was dreading my flight for a few reasons. I would have to sleep, first of all. This is difficult. Also, flights bother me because there are always a thousand minor annoyances that make you wish you could get your own damn plane. So it was with this flight: two bawling babies competed over who had the most booming lungs. The most bothersome aspect was this. When I sat down in my middle seat (red flag), I found that my neighbor to my right was quite portly and only had a Sudoku book. This didn’t seem like sufficient entertainment for a grown man, because either he was intelligent, and so would solve all the puzzles and grow bored, or he was dumb, and so would be unable to solve any of the puzzles and grow bored. It was actually neither of these two things, as he displayed an impressive sleeping ability: the moment we were in the air, he serenaded us with sonorous snores. He awoke for meals with disturbing precision. He was the aisle seat, so trips to the bathroom were impossible. This would be tolerable for me if it weren’t for the woman in front of me, who apparently decided to exercise her freedom to recline her chair into my face. Also I have problems sleeping on moving objects. Also the very nice steward(ess) team kept insisting that I try wine. This made it difficult to sleep.
4) The best thing about driving from Heathrow to Oxford is how quickly the cityscape morphs to countryside. It’s all soft hills and big trees.
5) Some people claim that dental problems are Britain’s greatest. This is untrue; dermatology is the most troubled of speciality fields in health, if a half-hour walk in Oxford is any guide.
I’ll try to write daily.
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