"If con is the opposite of pro, then congress is the opposite of progress. Is this true, or did we blow your fuckin' mind?

-America: the Book



My friends and I have this sort-of game we play where, if we hear a funny, random phrase, we’ll say "That’s the name of our band", or "That’ll be the name of our first CD." (Yeah, it’s not exactly Dorothy Parker and the Algonquin round table, but it amuses us. Which, as I’m sure you can tell, is incredibly difficult.) Anyway, based on a couple of things I heard on tv the other night, I think I’ve come up with the ultimate band name:

Captain Salty and the Bodacious Ta-Ta’s.

Can’t you just see that on a t-shirt? We were kicking around ideas for what our first album would be called, but we didn’t really come up with anything suitable (Over-the-Shoulder-Boulder-Holder was put forth but deemed too ‘college radio’.). So I put it to you good people (all two of you). Wow me with your brilliant suggestions.

People need to watch more M. Night Shyamalan movies. ‘The Village’ was on cable the other night and I liked it even more the second time. I love movies where you discover more and more every time you see them, it feels a bit like decoding a cryptograph. Subtlety is a dying art in Hollywood and this enigmatic visionary has single-handedly revived the psychological thriller (Sheesh, which one do I sound like more? Ebert or Roper? Sometimes I fear my writing consists of hackneyed soundbites.). I always find that suspense and tension is more scintillating than the cookie-cutter, in-your-face axe-murderer gore that the industry seems to be cranking out these days. I love how Shyamalan uses conventions like light and color to plant subconscious red flags to signal the underlying mystery of his films. And even though, by now, I know there’ll be a twist at the end and I’m expecting it, it never fails to throw me for a loop.

He also has a real appreciation for what a well-composed score can do for a film. He’s not content to throw the latest TRL chart-toppers in and be done with it. ‘The Village’ has the most chilling, beautiful score I’ve heard in a long time. I’m probably a little biased, since the featured violinist is the outrageously gifted Hilary Hahn, at whose alter I worship most fervently. It’s mind-boggling how a musician the same age as me can have an intuitive ability that outshines other violinists twice her age. The accuracy of intonation and emotion with which she plays is truly that of a natural genius. I can only think to describe it as a haunting purity that breaks my heart. (Not a little bit because she raises the bar to a height that I will never achieve, but I still feel grateful for having witnessed it. But I suppose any musician has felt a little bit jealous of people who have the kind of skill they only dream of possessing.). But, I digress. To make a long story short, go watch ‘Unbreakable’, ‘Signs’ and ‘The Village’ (I’m assuming you’ve all seen ‘The Sixth Sense’ If not, well, what the hell? Go nuts and get that too.) . You’ll thank me.

And while you’re about it, go buy a Damien Rice CD. I’ve been listening to "O" nonstop.

I finished reading 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince' and feel like adding my opinion to the millions upon millions floating around the ether. Hmmm... I still like them. And I know I'll buy the next one when it comes out, because I want to know how it ends just as badly as everyone else. But these last two are, quite frankly, depressing as hell. I know you have to have conflict and misfortune to make a compelling story, but sweet sassy-molassy!. If I want to dive into the dark, seething underbelly of human nature, I'll read L.A. Confidential. I don't know about the rest of you, but to me Harry Potter has always been a nice escape when dealing with day-to-day mundanity and the obstinate stupidity of your average person becomes a bore. (Not that I walk around in a constant state of self-superior lamentation for the rest of humanity, it's just that every so often other people really drive me round the twist.) Anyway, I used to count these books among my favorite guilty pleasures. Now, they just bum me out. Oh, well. After all, it is J.K. Rowlings' world, and we are but guests there. She can do what she wants, I'm still in awe of the kind of creative epiphany that would produce such a whimsical, detailed universe. (Wow, that turned into a much longer diatribe than I had intended.) What did you think?

Not much else going on, so I'll just leave you all with a random factoid:

Did you know that the DMZ between North and South Korea has become a natural sanctuary for many endangered species? The lack of human habitation has caused many birds, insects, fish and other animals to flourish, and several of the species there can no longer be found in either North or South Korea.

There, never say I didn't teach ya nothin'.

Later, Lisa

Found myself in one of those broody, introspective moods today and took a solitary stroll in the rain (Because every once in awhile a gal feels the need to bend a cliche to its breaking point). Not to sound dramatic, but there is something strangely meliorative about walking down a country road with mud caking your shoes and great, fat droplets pitter-pattering against your jacket, soaking your face and plastering strands of hair to your forehead. The woods are so green this time of year and the smell is incredible (Yeah, yeah. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, blah, blah.. Moving on from the train wreck that is me trying to wax poetic.) . Don’t want to delve too deeply into just what it was I felt the compulsion to mull over so thoroughly. (For a change. God, this blogging thing has really turned me into a psychic whore. Why do I do this? Normally the idea of this degree of disclosure to strangers would make me physically ill.) I know part of my malaise is finding out that a wonderful, sweet old lady I’ve known, well, ever since I can remember, has died. I hadn’t actually seen her for a couple of years, and the majority of my memories of her consist of playing board games at parties, but she was a treasured part of my childhood and I am, quite simply, sad that she's gone. And it never fails that one death always makes you think of other people you’ve lost and I found myself missing my grandmother terribly. So, needless to say, I’ve not been a lot of fun this week. There. That’s enough of that. I’m going to go eat a Twinkie and lighten up. Promise I’ll be more chipper next time.

I know I've been an update maniac lately, but I was just reading back through some stuff (on the off-chance that it had mysteriously changed without my knowing it. Not at all because I am never so entertained as when I'm reading things I wrote about myself.) and felt the need to make a charmingly self-depricating observation. With the recent abundance of such spicy interjections as 'woo-hoo!', 'yee-haw!', and, jesus help me, 'yippee!', my blog is beginning to resemble a batman comic book. Rest assured that I am aware of the problem and am taking steps. I figure a number of short sessions in a cellar tied to a chair being repeatedly smacked in the face with a thesaurus may be just the thing. I'm off to take my medicine. Be about your business.

Behold the mighty art that I have wrought. Trial run for my friends Josh and Jens wedding cake. I give you vanilla cake filled with raspberry curd, frosted with italian meringue lemon curd buttercream. Can I get a hell yeah?