The Aegis-Grin

:: CatharsList!

In respect to the holiday that most retail stores would love to skip, here’s a list of things I’m most excited to eat:

1. Turkey
2. Pumpkin Pie
3. Bacon-wrapped Lil’ Smokies
4. Mashed Taters
5. Gravy on everything
6. Leftovers for the rest of the week!

:: Vespers

End of August. Heat
like a tent over 
John’s garden. And some things
have the nerve to be getting started,
clusters of tomatoes, stands
of late lilies—optimism
of the great stalks—imperial
gold and silver: but why
start anything
so close to the end?
Tomatoes that will never ripen, lilies
winter will kill, that won’t
come back in spring. Or
are you thinking
I spend too much time
looking ahead, like
an old woman wearing
sweaters in summer; 
are you saying I can
flourish, having
no hope
of enduring? Blaze of the red cheek, glory
of the open throat, white,
spotted with crimson.

My Dinner with Andre :: Film :: 1981 :: Malle :: If you would have told me that my new litmus test would be a film consisting of a conversation between theater director Andre Gregory and playwright Wallace Shawn, I probably would have believed you, honestly, but only after some serious discussion—which is exactly what this movie is so great at. Andre has been feeling disillusioned, and so his directing has been put on hiatus. He has been travelling to remote places, visiting with people who do not speak his language and participating in bizarre rituals in order to find something meaningful to re-spark his life again. However, things haven’t been working out quite like he’d planned. But slowly, Wally starts to chime in on some of Andre’s insights and we see that most people are in that same rut, trying their hardest to block out the imperfections of the world. A riveting conversation about the nature of reality, what it means to be human, the need for connections in the bizarre alienation of city life, technology, and love. This movie is a wonderful spark for intelligent conversations about things most people don’t spend a lot of time talking about, but really should. 

:: Neuroses in Quatrains

These thoughts of mine,
chained and wailing for expression,
never seem as profound
as they fall mangled off my tongue.
 
Chained and wailing for expression,
they reject simplicity
as they fall mangled off my tongue.
To understand is an illusion.
 
They reject simplicity
but for fleeting, epiphanal moments.
To understand is an illusion,
beautiful and terrifying.
 
But, for fleeting, epiphanal moments,
these thoughts of mine—
beautiful and terrifying—
never seem as profound…

Eraserhead :: Film :: 1977 :: Lynch :: Truly the most terrifying film I’ve seen to date. This film is David Lynch’s bizarre nightmare made real for all of us to experience. Henry Spencer (Jack Nance) is having a child. This is a life-changing experience for him, but not in a good way. His child is deformed, alien-like in its demeanor. It almost looks like a leech, and it sucks the life out of Henry. If you’ve ever seen a David Lynch movie, you know that his storytelling is anything but normal and that really keeps the feeling of a nightmare, with this weird dream-logic sulking under every element of the film. The Man in the Planet, the Lady in the Radiator, the unsettling encounter with Mr. and Mrs. X—moments and images that are forever ingrained in my mind. If you have been thinking about having a child, do yourself a favor and skip this movie because you may never again want to.

If you’re not creating something, I don’t really care about what it is that you’re doing. It doesn’t have to be original. It doesn’t have to be profound. But to not be creative to me seems almost unimaginable. 

:: Time doesn’t change

Time to rest, time for haste,
time to work, no time to waste
thinking about weird words
and poems. The big birds,
geese I call them, swerve
their V south and merge
with their kin and make me
wonder why this busy me
can’t do the same thing.
 
Busy, busy, busy. Weather
the weather, whether
it be rain or shine. Sharpen
your mind but you mustn’t
take too much time. Change
comes slow and comes strange,
the seasons turn cold and then
green and then gold and then
cold with more sting. 
 
It’s not in nature’s nature
to be permanent—said better
by the poet I paraphrased from
but the essence remains. Numb
winter dies like everything else,
even before it rises it melts
underneath itself. Best to just
sit and write, and trust
in what spring will bring.

Aguirre: The Wrath of God :: Film :: 1972 :: Herzog :: Don Lope de Aguirre travels down into the heart of the jungle in search of El Dorado. This is a tale of madness, treachery, and greed—and it is (one of) Herzog’s masterpiece(s). Kinski’s performance is both mesmerizing and menacing. Beautiful and poetic imagery inhabit each frame. When I first watched it, I was hypnotized from the start with the impressive opening shot of a huge mass of Spanish conquistadors and their native slaves working their way through treacherous mountain ranges and swamps—all with the dreamlike music of Popol Vuh droning in the background. But it was the end that really pulled me in: a shot that spins uncontrollably in a whirlpool, and all we see is the delusional Aguirre in a childlike battle with tiny monkeys. Power struggles and deceit infect everyone on the raft. When will it end? How will it end? Everyone but Aguirre seems to know.

:: Your Doomsday Scenario: granted a glimmer of hope

Oh, humans. For all of your flaws, you still find ways to endear. 

Global warming is now undoubtedly real. FEMA is nearly out of money due to the number of weather disasters this year, and things look like they’ll only get worse.

But after watching Michael Pawlyn’s talk, reading Ray Kurzweil’s take on solar energy technology, and reading up on nuclear and fusion power technology advances, it’s clear to me that again humans will find a way to endure and endear. The human imagination can change the problems of pollution and climate change into opportunities. It’s just a matter of perspective.

:: Baekje Smile

Bold moth.
I could not help
but eat it. The dust on
the wings turned my mouth green. I spoke
dead tongues.

Synecdoche, New York :: Film :: 2008 :: Kaufman :: Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. When I walked out of the New York theater after I saw it the first time, I didn’t know what to think. I felt something, but I didn’t know what. My mind was focused on the burning house and the series of illnesses that Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman) suffers. I thought about how clever it was to hide an event such as the burning house right under our noses throughout the whole film, and yet we’re still heartbroken at what happens because of it. And then I saw it again. It is a masterpiece, finely crafted and intricately layered, that rewards multiple viewings. Kaufman, the director and screenwriter, has shot for the moon, knowing full well that he would never make it, and shows that he has accomplished exactly what he wanted. Caden’s life is theater. He gets a MacArthur genius grant and sets off to create “something real.” So, of course, he hires actors to play real people. And then he hires actors to play the actors playing real people, and eventually hires an actor to play himself (who understands Caden better than Caden does). But he is distraught. Caden is stuck in his anxious state of being, forever dreading his inevitable death—stuck worrying about his daughter, his wife, his lover, his health, his play… his play… his play… all the while aging without even noticing that life is passing by—whether he pays attention to it or not.