Sunday, December 23, 2012

Santa and Hermione Granger have more in common than you would think...

While driving home from yoga this morning, a Christmas carol with a name I do not know came on and told me that "just exactly at 12 o' clock" Santa would be coming down my chimney on Christmas. If anyone but Santa were foretold to be coming down my chimney at all, I would be oh so minorly perturbed. But he is chubby and seems like a laid-back guy with the good intention of leaving gifts and filling stockings. He can come down my chimey anytime. Why did that just sound dirty?

Anyways, alongside filling my mind with images of a chubby old man trying to fit down a chimney, I couldn't help but wonder about the logistics of him arriving at "just exactly 12 o' clock" to shimmy down EVERY chimney in the entire world. Even when taking different time zones into consideration, there are so many households per time zone that it still does not fit into the realm of reason. Then the story started to sound vaguely familiar- being in multiple places at once... hmmm...

Then it hit me like an avalanche (only a little less severe of a hit since I could still breathe and did not suffer a claustrophobia-induced panic attack from being packed in snow and not knowing which way was up). Hermione Granger and her time-turner! I'm pretty sure the time-turner did not come from Hogwarts administration but rather from a big jolly man dressed up in red. It all makes sense now! Of course, his circumstances bear a bit more weight than a bright witch wanting to overachieve in school. The happiness of the world's children rests in his hands. Maybe his time-turner has more power than hers? At least the secret of just how Santa does it is now revealed...

Friday, December 21, 2012

It's The End of the World as We Know it...

If you don't know how that song lyric ends you should be shot. Okay, slight exaggeration. Well, it doesn't even matter at this point if you know the rest of the words or not because at some point today the Maya prediction is going to take you out (and I'm not talking out to dinner...).

Okay, maybe humanity is being a pit overdramatic. I mean, another apocalyptic predition? How many times has this happened in the last few years? There was the one foretold by some random potentially insane man last summer, 6-6/06, and others. Yet here we are.

On NPR the other day, there was an interview on their Morning Edition segment with a big-wig in the world of Maya studies (yes, they have big wigs). He blatantly stated that this idea that the Maya predicted the end of the world is purely concocted by our modern society. Don't believe him? Head to the nearest movie theater. The previews clearly manifest his idea- we are apocalypse-obsessed. It seems that 4 out of 5 previews are for movies dealing with apocalyptic subject matter. Sometimes the world ends by alien invasion, sometimes by robot invasion from under the sea (seriously), and sometimes by alien-robot hybrids. We have weather phenomenon taking out the population, rampant incurable viruses, you name it. We seem to be asking for it. How depressing.

Anyways, we have already made it to 4:47 PM. Only a little over 7 hours to see if we live through yet another apocalypse. Good luck.
 

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Misfits No More

After my annual screening of the classic Rudolph cartoon, I got to seriously thinking about the situation of the misfit toys and how they can fix their issues. First of all, there really is nothing wrong with the vast majority of them, it just seems like they want to throw a collaborative pity party.
Photo from halfassedproductions.com


The weird griffin that rules the island needs to hire me to solve their issues so he can go be the monarch of a more reasonable kingdom. I already have a plan of action in place.

1) The Charlie in the Box- he claims his residence on the island is necessary as his name is not Jack, and logically no child would want to play with him. Despite this flawed reasoning, it is still an easy fix- head down to the county courthouse and set up an appointment to legally change his name to Jack. Done. Next?

Courtesy of fadtoys.com

2) The train with square-shaped back wheels- ever heard of sandpaper?

3) The elephant with spots- first of all, who the hell cares? If the problem is simply aesthetic, it's not actually an issue at all- kids these days play with the weirdest stuffed animals I have ever seen. Purple dogs, green cats with blue spots... heck, they would probably line up begging Santa for a pink-spotted elephant. If the issue is medical and he has chicken pox, also an easy fix- calamine lotion and gloves to prevent itching. Then, he should remember to get the shingles vaccine when he's older because I guess once you've had the chicken pox it means the shingle virus is already inside of you.

4) The pistol that shoots jelly instead of water- this toy is basically screwed because no parent will buy their kid a toy gun anymore. So his best bet is to either apply for a job at a jelly donut factory or to get a nice place and settle down on the island because he has legitimate cause to reside there.

5) The doll with absolutely no problem- I never understood her presence on the island, but after some good ol' Wikipedia reading, I learned that it may be psychological since she is crying throughout the special. So, her fix would be some therapy sessions to get over whatever issues she is dealing with. According to an NPR program: "Rudolph's producer, Arthur Rankin Jr., says Dolly's problem was psychological, caused from being abandoned by her mistress and suffering depression from feeling unloved."

6) The bird that swims instead of flies- stuffed animal birds never fly in the first place, so if he just has an image problem, he can visit a plastic surgeon to remove the fins (or a seamstress?)

7) An airplane that cannot fly- see above regarding toys not actually being able to do what their real counterparts can. Use some imagination, kids.

8) Toy boat that sinks- please see above again.

9) A cowboy who rides an ostrich- what is wrong with a cowboy wanting to elect a different mode of transportation?

Apparently there is also a scooter as part of the group, but no one can tell what is wrong with it.

I just solved all of their issues. Bam, I'm good.

Monday, December 17, 2012

Modified 30 Day Challenge!

For any of you familiar with the clandestine community of Bikram yoga, you are already well-acquianted with the 30-day challenge. For those of you who are not (which I assume is the vast majority if not all of my readers), you will probably correctly infer that it is a challenge to do 30 Bikram sessions in 30 days. Very self explanatory. The goal of this is that you will feel so phenomenal and get so utterly addicted during the 30 days (which, not surprisingly, is usually the lengh of time that Bikram studios have introductory special rates) that you will never be able to stop, and will most likely cave in to the ridiculously high membership rates (around $150-200 a month, generally with no student/senior rates. Seriously...). I had always wanted to participate in aforementioned challenge and assume that I unofficially did while working at the studio in L.A. since I attended class so much.

After moving to Boulder, I found that there were two Bikram studios aside from the one at which I already used my intro rate- one in Longmont and one in Westminister, which offered a $49 membership for your first month. I thought, wow, how perfect! Now I can do my 30-day challenge. Yet going about 30 minutes out of my way in either direction did not appeal to me or my gas tank too much. So I decided to do a little cheating and make a personalized 30-day challenge. All it really means is that I won't get a commemorative T-shirt. Maybe someone will make me one.

As previously mentioned in other posts, other yoga studios have been essentially stealing Bikram yoga and simply calling it "hot yoga" to avoid paying for the rights to the name. This is much to the dismay of Bikram and his studios, naturally. However, the classes are literally the same exact thing. How this is legal, I'm not sure- you'd have to ask a lawyer or really intelligent law school student. Since Yoga Pod happens to be in the most convinient location for me, I plan to attend their hot yoga sessions for 30 days. Boom, problem solved. Don't worry, I will document everything on this page including before and after photos! Don't get too excited!

I fully plan to master all 26 postures below, even though I know I will be feeling like the thought bubbles in the image below the image below.
 
Photo from chocolateismylife-us.blogspot.com
Photo from theironyou.com
 

 

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Clique-y Yoga

About a year ago, I would have told time travelers from 2012 informing me of my future yoga-doing, kale-eating self, I would have told them to take a hike to the nearest time machine mechanic, since theirs seemed to have brought them from an alternate universe where I was super hippie. I also would most likely have punched them in the face as they had offended me so deeply.

Then, when I had to chance to try Bikram yoga for free last July, I became instantly ensnared past the point of no return. As free yoga was one of my employment benefits (gotta love L.A.), I completely took for granted the fact that this particular type of elitist yoga cost around $185 per month. Upon returning to Colorado, unemployment forced me to get a bit creative and do something drastic in order to continue practicing yoga. I even recognized that the scant amount of Bikram yoga studios in Boulder and its immediate surroundings would force me to try out *gasp* different styles of yoga! Shocking!

When I first betrayed my beloved Bikram yoga to take advantage of CorePower Yoga's free trial week, I felt a bit guilty. I always knew of the animosity bubbling between Bikram yoga and other styles of hot yoga which allegedly copied Bikram in its entirety but were mere greedy wannabes. So i couldn't have felt more out-of-place when I sheepishly entered CorePower wearing my Bikram Yoga Marina del Rey shirt. It actually felt a little West Side Story. When the CorePower yogis eyed my Bikram shirt disapprovingly, I half expected all of us to smart snapping and circling each other Sharks vs. Jets style prior to breaking out into a spontaneous musical number.

Yet as much as I didn't want to, I completely loved what CorePower had to offer. I was wrong in my characterization of the Sharks and the Jets, however; after attending another Bulder yoga studio, Radiance Yoga (where they teach Batiste-style yoga), my mind formulated a new and more accurate analogy. I realized that yoga studios are more like high school cliques. CorePower is the jock clique, as they are definitely the most popular, nation-wide studio bullying smaller studios in the hallway. However, they are really cool to hang out with so people like them anyways. Radiance Yoga is the clique of girls desperately trying to be popular but aren't quite there yet. By that I mean they will adapt their personalities according to who they are hanging out with and try to please everyone. Radiance Yoga doesn't kick their participants butts for the sake of giving them an awesome workout- rather, they basically let members do whatever they want to feel good about themselves.

Bikram is a weird case in this analogy. Bikram yoga is that cool, elusive kid that wears a lot of black and hangs out by himself or just a couple of other equally elusive kids. Bikram sort of slinks in the shadows of the hallway and that aura of mystery emanates the kind of "cool" that high school kids want to be associated with. Hence why other studios copy Bikram yoga.

Wow, that was one elaborate analogy, Marisa...

COME ON! PUSH IT!

Spinning- it's the hot new workout along with zumba and others with equally confusing names. I mean let's be honest- all it is is stationary biking, so why don't we just eliminate the confusion and call it "stationary biking"? Whatever, it is what it is. I guess the wheel spins so there is some logic behind the title.

Anyways, my recent obtaining of a free three-day all-access pass to 24 Hour Fitness made me feel obligated to spend as much time as my protesting body would allow. I decided to try out different classes each of the three days. People back at the yoga studio where I worked in Los Angeles always raved about spinning being the best thing since, well, yoga and insisted that since I was a runner it would come naturally to me. Wrong.

Spinning also happens to be another sport that makes participants loathe the dictatorial nature of the instructor. I mean, what is a fitness class if not a dictatorship? One power hungry individual sits before the masses demanding that they perform certain physical feats. Worse yet is when their power-hungry ego feeds on the suffering students and the yelling starts. "Push harder! Come ON! Feel the burn!" The only other place comments like that fill the air waves is in maternity wards. And I don't like to compare my workout classes to my perception of the birthing experience.

The most obnoxious part to my already panting, irritated and sweaty self was the instructors describing which part of the imaginary hill we were supposedly biking on. I consider myself not lapsed in the ability to use my imagination like a wide-eyed child, but somehow when I am already gasping for air and told to really push myself while climbing this last hill, the desire to imagine aforementioned hill is replaced with the desire to imagine I'm on a beach chair in Hawaii somewhere. So while the rest of the dedicated students who actually paid for their memberships did, indeed, push themselves up the hill, I turned my bike around, lowered my resistance all the way and coasted down to treat myself to a coffee at the imaginary Starbuck's at the bottom.
 

Friday, December 14, 2012

Alright, this Journey is a Little Expected...

Who in their right mind goes into a movie adapted from only a fraction of a novel which is not of considerable length and expects it to move at a rapid pace? Only certifiably insane people, if you ask me. I certainly do not see a point cinematically to dividing The Hobbit into two parts let alone three (we all see the financial point, however). The only literature adapted to the big screen currently in theaters which desperately needs division into multiple films at the moment is Anna Karenina. In that case, we're dealing with a 735-page Russian novel. Perhaps division could have saved that train wreck of a film (for those of you who have read the book or seen the movie, no pun intended).

Back to the topic at hand- The Hobbit. Before stepping into the theater I was under the impression that it was "only" going to be two films, and I still had the common sense to mentally prep myself as best as possibly for the long haul. At 169 minutes, The Hobbit part one certainly is trying at times. I would advise anyone with concentration issues, diagnosed or otherwise, to really gear up or take some meds or to hook up to an IV of caffeine before the screening.

I read a multitude of reviews on good ol' Rotten Tomatoes before attending the midnight premiere. Every critic who "blasted" the film referenced the same negative aspect- the draggy nature of the begining. Yes, it was probably a little bit worse than watching molasses slowly trickle down a slope at a 1 degree angle for the first 45 minutes to an hour. But my dedication to the Lord of the Rings films and the talented acting right from the get-go of Martin Freeman as young Bilbo had me holding out hope. And I'm glad I did. Once the ball gets rolling, The Hobbit is a truly charming film. I'm talking chivilrous, European gentleman caller charming. Considering it is the most lighthearted of Tolkein's books, the film took a surprisingly dark twist as well. Yet the generous sprinkling of humor throughout the plot more than made up for it.

My favorite scene, and I don't believe I'm alone in this, was the famous riddle exchange between Bilbo and Gollum. Mainly, perhaps, because of the talented Martin Freeman and Andy Serkis (disguised by CGI). Other moments captivated me as well such as the familiar, touching exchanges between characters reminiscent of those in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. When Bilbo is acknowledged for his immense bravery with violins swelling in the background it tugs at my heart strings more than a sad puppy's eyes looking up at me from a cage in the pound. And one undeniable truth is that whether you are bored or not, the scenery alone provides plenty of eye candy and makes you want to travel to New Zealand all over again.

 

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Another Christmas Carol Rant

You know, while I am stuck on the topic of Christmas music and merriment, I have some beef to bring up (who came up with that saying anyways? A butcher? I guess they always have beef, technically, unless there is some sort of unprecidented shortage of cow meat) with the three aforementioned Christmas music stations. I understand the logic of the majority of the songs played- White Christmas is obviously a classic. Who doesn't know the words to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer by heart, aside from immigrants and those who experienced deprived childhoods? There are some modern Christmas carols like Last Christmas and All I Want for Christmas is You. Yet there clear addressing of the subject of Christmas and holiday cheer have vaulted them into immediate acceptance by the general public.

My issue is when these radio stations begin to stretch the definition of what is and what isn't Christmas music. At least the two songs mentioned in the above paragraph contain the word "Christmas" in the title. However, I have heard the song The Gift played as part of the Christmas song collection of these radio stations, and I just find that unacceptable. Just because it mentions the word "gift" does not automatically associate it with Christmas. No other part of the lyrics mention Christmas. Oh wait, I just read them and it does talk about snow and lights. Fine. But it could just as easily be a song referencing someone's birthday or house-warming party in winter. Those both would entail gifts and snow.

Perhaps I am being a bit harsh and hypocritical. I am a sucker for the Joni Mitchell song The River which hints at Christmas about the same amount as The Gift. But I like that song better so there.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

How Would you Like your Fa La Las?

Prior to this year, the Denver-based radio station KOSI 101.1 held a Monopoly on all Christmas music played over the radio waves in the Denver/Boulder area (as well as in Superior, Longmont, Louisville, Lafayette and more if you want to get really technical). I was never keen on the idea of Monopolizing Christmas carols. I mean, isn't Christmas the time to get into giving and sharing? KOSI 101.1 did not see it that way- they seemed to see the holidays (and also the time far before an acceptable start date to play Christmas music [oh wait, don't call the politically-correct police on me, I mean the "holiday music" {despite the fact that there is basically only the Dradel song for Hannukah [or is it with a CH?? How do you put parenthesis inside parenthesis inside parenthesis??] and then the Adam Sandler song}]) as a time to hog all music referencing the winter solstace, Santa, Heat Miser, and Jesus' birth.

Not anymore, KOSI 101.1! Though technically I think it is because of a space constraint and they broadcast from the same building, this year, KOSI 101.1 is easing up on the yuletide radio waves and has allowed two new players- 105.1 and 102.5- the chance to flex their festive muscle. Now, we are not forced to listen to Madonna's version of Santa Baby- we can listen to an ever-so-slightly altered version by someone sounding shockingly similar. Don't like Bing Crosby's White Christmas (first of all, you need to be committed in a straight jacket)? Flip to a different station for one by a pop Country singer! Now our fa la las can finally succumb to a bit of variety! Even better, if Heaven forbid a commercial comes on, you don't have to go even one second without having holiday cheer reverberating off your ear drum! Now, that's what I call celebrating!

Monday, November 26, 2012

Killing Kennedy


I learned long ago, in some American history class or another during my school days, that President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. Yet it remained just another fact to memorize prior to an exam and nothing more until I read Killing Kennedy. This historical thriller, written by a coalition of Bill O’Reilly and Martin Dugard, had me anxiously clutching the sides of my seat despite knowing full-well in advance the end of the story. I kept hoping that somehow, JFK was going to make it.  I almost wouldn’t oppose an alternate ending allowing his life to be spared as I grew to love the man and the First Lady as so many Americans did during his presidency.

O’Reilly and Dugard introduce their readers to a scraggly young Kennedy and lead us through the pivotal moments of his political and personal life up until it is cut short by Lee Harvey Oswald’s bullet.  We learn the good, the bad and the ugly of President Kennedy- his physical struggles with serious health detriments stemming from Addison’s disease and back problems to his major moral lapses while bedding with too many women to count (despite being married to arguably one of the classiest women to walk the White House halls). Thus, Kennedy becomes something real and tangible even to those born long after his untimely death. For this reason, the graphic description of his death is all the more painful to grapple with. All of a sudden, it feels as though I lost someone I knew personally. How Jacqueline Kennedy, who was covered with the brains and blood of her own husband, could surface from such a grotesquely scarring incident slides further and further from comprehension with each paragraph.

The authors of this non-stop narrative sprinkle it with facts and tidbits to truly round out the figure of John F. Kennedy. His therapeutic nude swims in the White House, the way he rough-housed with his two children in the morning and other facts of his private life add life to the two-dimensional textbook figure we learn about in school.

I never thought that an event seemingly so distant from my own life could affect me in such a way. Every time the authors mention some potential way his death could have been avoided jarred me to ponder how different things could be today. What if Kennedy had listened to warnings not to visit Dallas? What if his killer, Lee Harvey Oswald and his Communist dealings were investigated more closely by the intelligence community? This book certainly brings questions to its readers’ attentions. Questions, however, that simply have no answer.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

State Tats

In the past few weeks I noticed a startling amount of men with the state of Hawaii tattooed on their shoulders. I understand the wish to pay homage to your state, but what if you inhabit a not so aesthetically-pleasing one? Can you imagine a tattoo-tribute to Wyoming or Colorado? Might as well just request a rectangle.

A simple polygon of a tattoo would provoke much confusion. Is that person saying he's a square? Is that woman obsessed with geometry? A four-sided box on your shoulder would be rather off-putting to employers and have potential mates questioning your sanity. Or, people would just think you are really deep and philosphical and go about scratching their heads wondering what the meaning of such a simple shape could possibly be. The explanation "it's not a rectangle, it's Colorado..." would get a bit old after awhile.

On the subject of tattoos, it has gotten to the point where some elderly folks have them, and often times it is something your eyes protest to. I fear for 50 years in the future when the majority of grandparents have saggy tattoo sleeves and wrinkly Chinese symbols on their ankles. Good luck convincing the grandkids not to get one of their own. Actually, maybe seeing the wrinkly saggy ink designs would be deterring enough.

 

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Racist Produce

As I chopped a red onion which would soon become a key ingredient of my homemade mango pineapple salsa, my mind wandered onto yet another off-beaten path. I started to ponder the different colors of onions, and how much more I preferred red ones to yellow ones. Then my thoughts delved a bit deeper into the topic and I realized how I couldn't recall ever trying a white onion. That led me to wonder if produce, like people, are racist.

Yes,  I realize that suggesting that inanimate produce could be capable of racism or any thought for that matter puts my sanity under scrutiny. But let's get a little less literal and travel to the make-believe land of thinking produce. Humor me.

Some people claim that there is no longer any sort of racism but that is just silly. For example, African-Americans typically possess a much better sense of rhythm than us whities and Asians are, in general, better at math. So I have to wonder- out of the various colors of bell peppers, which would be better on the dance floor? What stereotypes would surround a green pepper vs. a red one? Just some food for thought. No pun intended...

Same goes for different fruits. Do red delicious apples team up against little ol' granny smiths? Are sweet potatoes kinder than their russet counterparts? Are plantains self-conscious of their larger cousins, bananas?


Who would win in a fight?



Monday, November 5, 2012

A Plot that Requires an Atlas to Follow

Fittingly enough, Cloud Atlas needs just that. Or a highly accurate map or cinematic GPS system. Let's face it- weaving in and out of story lines spanning multiple centuries, you're bound to get a little lost.

I'm not sure if the actor-recycling for various roles is helpful or simply another confusing element. If the actors' various roles paralleled each other in some way it would be easier to understand. I had to read audience interpretations of this aspect of Cloud Atlas to attempt to wrap my mind around it. Some characters had star-shaped birthmarks, but the characters seemingly had no correlation to one another. Hugo Weaving portrayed a villain in each story, but why is that significant? And Tom Hanks' plethora of personas did not seem terribly significant either. The interpretation I read said that as time progressed, his character became a better and better person. That seems logical enough, but not overtly obvious during the film. Perhaps reading the book would shed some light onto all of this. But on the big screen, it just adds more for your brain to struggle to comprehend. The good part of the actor-recycling is they got to showcase their talent to shine in varying roles.

The trailer raved that it is visually astounding. This observation, though true to a degree, simply stems from the use of computers to make for complex scenery and makeup to make Tom Hanks have a bigger nose in the 1800s or give Halle Berry a weird skin growth which I guess implies she is from the future.

Now that I delivered the bad news, time for the good. Since there is such an entanglement of stories, there is undoubtably something that everyone can enjoy. I felt like I was watching five movies at once- a comedy, a thriller, a sic-fi adventure, a period piece, multiple love stories and more. I laughed out loud, cringed at the unexpected gory scenes and terrified by the portrayal of the future. For these reasons, Cloud Atlas is worth seeing, but perhaps it is better to read the book first for comprehension's sake. 

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The Purpose of Things

Most earthly beings have a purpose. Whether minuscule or grandiose, every creature represents a piece of the puzzle of the universe. Wow, that was philosophical...

The purpose of many creatures is obvious- domestic animals keep us company or complete some agricultural function or another. Black-footed ferrets keep the prairie dog population in check, and if they aren't around consequences of prairie dog overpopulation run rampant (*ahem* Boulder, Colorado...). One missing link in the carefully composed food chain leads to chaos. No, this is not a rant about the environment or human impact on the animal world. It is a rant about something much, much smaller- fruit flies.

I do not think there would be the slightest negative impact on the world if fruit flies ceased to exist. The only function I could attach to these horrendous insects is to try the patience of those whose homes they infest and whose food they contaminate. On that same note, what is the point of silverfish? Mosquitos? The only thing mosquitos have given us is West Nile virus, and silverfish a career for exterminators.

The purpose of many insects manifests itself clearly. Bees are essential for agriculture through pollination (the same goes for butterflies which are also nature's decoration for us to marvel at), wasps aid in the fermentation of grapes and therefore wine production (which possibly allows for forgiveness of their evil stings), roly-polies are adorable and praying mantises take out less pleasant bugs with their kung fu moves and (what is the plural for mantis??) are just plain lucky (and make for hilarious animated characters like in Kung Fu Panda).

I imagine God was bored one day and decided to mess with us humans by creating obnoxious insects. Or he wanted to help us learn the virtue of patience.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Juice Woes

The most entertaining part of my day yesterday was when I tempted fate by sampling juices that were borderline expired and telling Flora, the Kreation Juicery employee, if I thought they had gone bad or not. I suppose that is asking for some sort of food-bourne illness, but I was willing to take that chance for free juice that normally runs at $5.41 a bottle (and that's at the employee discount price!).

There were three juices that, due to their funky-but-not-funky-enough-to-chuck tastes, I was permitted to bring home. However, it turns out that cold-pressed, never-pasteurized juices go downhill fast, as the next morning even I could not bring myself to drink them.

The fresh coconut water not from concentrate sold at the juice bar is like crack. When I first drank it I thought, man that is amazing, but not nearly worth the price. So I decided to try my luck at Trader Joe's for some store-bought coconut H2O. The price of less than $2 put me over the moon. But after I took my first sip... well, let me put it this way: I imagine it would be much like a pain killer addict trying advil the day after downing four Vicodin. The Zico coconut water from concentrate was one of the most disappointing things I've ever tasted!

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Ok, Ben Affleck, you CAN direct...

I retract all previous annoyed sentiments instilled in me by yet another actor turned director casting themselves as the lead in their own film. It still bugs me that Angelina Jolie felt the need to direct a film, however; but to be fair I did not see her directorial debut.

I can't rightly assume what Ben Affleck is like in reality, but I do give him credit for having a marriage which is still going strong and has lasted more than the Hollywood average of 6 months. Even more shocking is that his marriage to Jennifer Garner is his first. That boosts his likeability substantially, as did his film Argo. Going into the theater with low expectations may have helped. Seeing the trailer for the film about 60 times eventually wore down my desire to see it. After having seen it so many times, I easily memorized a good deal of the comedic one-liners sprinkled throughout the dialogue.

Argo is based, arguably rather loosely, on the Iran hostage crisis of 1979. Irate Iranians stormed the U.S. consulate and held all inside hostage until the U.S. government met their demands and returned a hated prior leader to them to be hanged. Six U.S. officials escaped to the Canadian ambassador's house where they went into hiding in hopes that someone would come to their rescue. Cue Ben Affleck and the CIA! Initally, I thought "wow, this is so timely, what with Iran's prominence in today's news." Almost immediately after that thought, the more logical thought that it would likely piss off all Iranians took its place. I hope for Ben Affleck's sake that he is not placed at the top of any hit lists.

I say that the film is "loosely based" on fact because many events were injected with an element of timliness to augment suspense and were clearly fabricated. People answering crucial phone calls on the last ring kind of thing. The suspense certainly kept me glued to the edge of my seat, however, so it obviously worked. Not for a minute of the running time did boredom overtake me. Other emotions did, however; I felt the terror of the hostages along with their other spectrum of emotions from hope to hopelessness and joy to fear. Of course, it is impossible to accurately feel as someone in that situation would unless you were in a similar one yourself, but Affleck successfully gave his audience a taste of such emotions.

Also, Affleck did not try to involve any unrealistic love interests or sex scenes just for kicks so I give him props for that.

 

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Robot and Frank

Whimsical, indie, charming, hilarious and bittersweet. With a list like that you must all be stroking your chins pervasively in an attempt to figure out the theme of this blog post. I can see all you chin-strokers now, muttering things like "hmmmm, I do wonder where she is going with this!"(Sitting with legs crossed next to a flickering fire in a log cabin wearing elbow patches, because that's what I visualize when I think of someone pondering).

Could she be describing an overly-dramatic dinner with her extended family? Possible- all of the aforementioned adjectives could easily apply to that situation. Or she could be describing a really cheerful or awkward funeral. Bittersweet would apply in that instance, but hilarous? That would need some explaining. And I am not sure how a funeral would be indie unless it was the focal point of an indie film. A wedding could certainly be whimsical, indie, and charming, but the last two would be cause for concern. Why is the wedding hilarious? Did the ring bearer throw up on the bride? If so, that is a very one-sided hilarity and also one that cannot be respectfully enjoyed until well after the ceremony. And bittersweet... well, in a good way you could look at the parents seeing their little baby girl all grown and starting a family. Tear drop moment right there.

Anyways, I am going to describe none of the above and stick with the whimsical, charming, hilarious, bittersweet indie film Robot and Frank. I've always had an ability to form emotional bonds with intimate objects like stuffed animals in my youth, and my bond formed with the robot was just as strong. It sounds strange to say, but there was definite onscreen chemistry between Frank Langella and the 1990s-looking robot (voiced by Peter Sarsgaard) purchased by his son (James Marsden) to care for him in his old age.

Frank lives alone in what we are told is the not-so-distant future where libraries are being replaced by electronic books and people can call you on your television. It's not a completely foreign place, there are just a few oddities to let you know that it is, indeed, the future. For example, many people put their household upkeep needs in the hands of robots, and instead of caregivers buy one for their aging parents, as is the case with Frank. Frank's hippie daughter (played by Liv Tyler) feels that it is inhumane to treat robots as servants- a humorous side plot throughout the film which causes some trouble for Frank and the robot's blossoming relationship.

Each element of the plot reached perfection, from the major twist near the end to the ending itself. Robot and Frank is truly a treat and brings you through the range of emotions you expect during a night out at the theater. 

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Buffet of Thoughts

While browsing the notes that I sporadically type into my phone lest I forget something important, I was alarmed by the amount of ideas or partial ideas for blog content that never ended up on my blog. The problem is that many of them are just that- ideas. Therefore they are not long enough to comprise an entire blog. What to do? Well, I decided to dedicate a blog post to my random thoughts gathering dust in the notepad of my cell phone, so I can de-clutter a bit. Here goes:

1) Overdoing cutesy phrases: so, this past weekend a large portion of the main freeway going in and out of Los Angeles was closed. Media outlets warned SoCal inhabitants of the two-day closure for months and months in advance, and told them to keep away from the 405 at all costs. This is the second time construction of this magnitude was set to occur on the 405, and as the first closure was officially deemed "Carmageddon," the sequel closure was naturally referred to as Carmageddon 2. Very cute, right? That is witty and all, but a headline in the Sunday Los Angeles Times irked me beyond belief when it further altered the word "Carmageddon" which is already an altered word itself. The article was about how the closure, once again, did not cause nearly as much traffic as predicted, and referred to this as "Calmaggedon." Seriously? How obnoxious.

2) I can't decide if it is funny or sad watching college students in the check-out line at Trader Joe's (and other grocery stores I imagine- I just happened to notice it while at that particular store). Last Friday night around 9, I saw a young man purchase one lone banana and nothing else. I've also seen them stock up on ramen-noodle-esque soups and other food items you would expect to find in one of those cellars designed to store food in case of an apocalypse or severe storm. Sometimes they get in line with the most random single object in hand. One jar of tomato sauce. One chocolate bar. I mean, if you're going to the grocery store, shouldn't you at lease plan ahead a bit to save a trip later? I guess college mentally doesn't follow that reasoning.

3) Where do hair ties, socks and chapstick constantly disappear? I swear there have been times when I know that two socks of a pair went into the dryer, yet only one came out. This must indicate that there is a portal leading into an alternate universe inhabited by single socks, chapstick and hair ties. That could be an interesting compilation of residents. I wonder what their government would be like? A democracy? Or anarchy? Who knows. That could be the next book in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe series. I'd read that book.


Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Reflections and Spiders

Just like mirrors, we humans need to reflect sometimes. Though, I guess if you are a mirror you would be reflecting 24x7, and that must get mentally draining. I mean, think about it- if a mirror tries to reflect on itself in another mirror it would probably just come down with a severe headache. A mirror's reflection is just craziness, like an Alice In Wonderland tunnel. Okay, I'm not sure if I am making sense anymore.

Today, I reflect on my juice cleanse which leads me to conclude that it was worthwhile. Today, I enthusiastically chowed down my breakfast like a ravenous beast, thus having the obvious result of a stomach ache. So, for lunch, guess what I am having? Juice. That's right. Carrot, beet, celery, spinach, ginger, cayenne, cucumber and kale juice, to be precise. My body officially dislikes food. It turns it away like a child who turns up their nose when offered a plate of broccoli. Hopefully I come around by dinner time, because I am craving pasta.

On another note, I have realized that spiders and Californians seem to have a mutual respect for each other to the point where they are almost friends. There is one massive web that hangs over my head as I walk to my apartment which could easily be taken down with a broom, but no one ever does it. And the spider inhabiting that thing is not little by any means- in fact, I consider it more like the Godzilla of spiders. He has been there for so long I decided to name him Hank. I check to see if he is inhabiting his web when I walk under. I also noticed an arachnid hanging out in his web outside of my bathroom window. If Hank is Godzilla Spider, this unnamed outside of bathroom spider is Godzilla's weight-lifting, steroid-using brother. I have not named him yet because I just noticed him a few days ago. Also, why do I assume all spiders are males?

I admit it took me awhile to acclimate to being in the presence of mutant spiders seemingly related to the one that bit Peter Parker, but now I do see them as my little buddies. They go about their business and I go about mine. The only beef I have with the spindly-legged creatures is when they build their webs at night in places where I can't help but run into them. It makes me feel like Frodo in Shelob's lair, and that's not a good feeling.

Monday, October 8, 2012

The Final Countdown

I hope the band that sings that song, Europe, doesn't sue me for improper use of copyrighted information. That would make them pretty desperate for cash. It's the third and final day of my cleanse. To be honest, I did not think someone could survive on a juice diet, but not only am I surviving, it's safe to say I am thriving. I feel awesome and definitely like I could do this for a few more days. But I also miss food, and that cancels out my desire to continue cleansing.

2:14 PM Day 3

My running around like a chicken with its head cut off (who came up with that saying anyways? What a creepy visual) prevented me from writing until now. However, I am on juice four for the day, with two remaining, and I feel energetic and productive! Unfortunately, the cleanse did not provide as deep of a sleep last night as it did the first night, but I still fit in plenty of Zs.

4:01 PM Day 4

I am currently drinking my last Master Cleanse which is a bittersweet feeling. I have formed some creepy, psychological-analysis-worthy bond with my juice cleanse. I've heard of people forming deep attachments with intimate objects, but this seems a bit over the top. I am almost tempted to sign up for a couple more days!

8:25 PM Day 4

Well, the cleanse comes to a close. Nice alliteration, Marisa. I'm going to miss the master cleanse, but I'm excited for food! I still feel great, like I could continue for a few days, but I'm not going to. I did my three days, I'm done!

Sweet and Spicy! Addictive!

Liquid Candy Cane
Packed with Veggies yet tastes Fruity!

Lunch Time!

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Cleanse- Part 2!

9:39 AM Day 2

So guess who is on day 2 of a cleanse and still feels AWE-SOME! If you guessed me, well aren't you insightful? Just kidding. Well so far I have had one green juice and my chlorophyll water since I like to bite the bullet on that one and get it out of the way as soon as possible. I also did yoga this morning and currently feel like I am on top of a mountain. Woot!

1:16 PM Day 2

I forgot to add that a juice cleanse may as well be synonymous with a cure for insomnia. I slept like a rock, sans earplugs and sans eye mask, for about 9 hours straight. For the first time in many moons, I did not have to exhaust my options of counting sheep, reading until my eyelids grew heavy and any sort of dances to sleep gods (okay, slight exaggeration). I am about halfway through my cleanse and still feel great. Someone told me it is because I was eating right and exercising prior to the cleanse, which means my body has less toxins to rid itself of. Isn't that jolly news?

1:46 PM Day 2

Wow. I am regretting this whole thing. Just kidding, I still feel great! I realize I just wrote less than an hour ago, but I just started drinking a peppermint water and I wanted to inform my readers that it is unfathomably tasty- like drinking a candy cane (or possibly toothpaste if you were to just extract the peppermint flavor)! Mmmm!

6:01 PM Day 3

I am sweating and feel like an anvil is pressing on my stomach but mentally I still consider my mood stable. I have already begun composing a grocery list for my return to a normal diet! Thankfully, I have one juice to go- I'm trying to hold off as long as humanly possible.

8:25 PM Day 2

I had no idea it was possible to feel so tired at this early, pathetic hour of the night. Yet here I lay, in my jammies and under the covers. Let's hope I survive tomorrow!

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Second Attempt

Well, it's official- I have restarted my detox. I made the decision after my dreams were haunted by veggies taunting me that they defeated me in my last go-around. I don't take too kindly to mockery by vegetables, so with revamped determination, my journey to kick their butts has begun again.

The juice cleanse consists of six juices and two alkaline waters spaced out throughout the day. Four are based on greens- kale, romaine, celery, cucumber, you name it- and two are called "Master Cleanse" and are comprised by agave, water, lemon and cayenne pepper. Amazingly, the latter is scrumptious!

11:47 AM on Day 1:

Well, so far I have consumed one water (chlorophyll, which tastes less algae-y [not that I have ever tasted algae] the second time you try it) and one green juice and one master cleanse. I feel fine at the moment- not hungry or tired, just a little bit out of it. I read what to expect, and it said day 2 is when the cranky pants really start to ride up your legs.

4:39 PM on Day 1:

I am down to two juices. Currently, my throat is tingling with the spice of cayenne courtesy of the Master Cleanse. My mood is actually peaking for the day- I am overcome with euphoria, probably due to starvation. We'll see how long this good mood lasts....

7:30 PM on Day 1:

Apparently it lasts at least three hours, because I still feel fantastic and rearin' to go and I am only halfway through my last juice. The hardest part of today was when the mother of the girl whose party I was running brought in a red velvet cake and told me to take a slice home. Guess what my first food will be following day 4??

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Maybe Next Time, Juice

So here's pretty much what happened- yesterday, day 1 of my cleanse which was supposed to last three days, I had to drink beet juice mixed with other vegetable juices twice. When I realized that I was paying to drink beet juice which I could hardly choke down, I realized why so few people do juice cleanses, and why many people, like me, cop out after one measly day.

All it did was made me tired- last night I slept for 10 hours and possibly only woke up once. So, I guess the cleanse works as a sleep aid. I may try again next week, so stay tuned. 

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Juice Cleanse

Well, I know how much you all love to follow my life journeys and adventures, and it has been ages since I have embarked on one. The long wait finally ends tomorrow, however, when I begin a three-day juice cleanse. See, I figured now that I am doing the Bikram yoga almost every day, I might as well add one more super hippie thing to my routine, and I can't think of anything more hippie than a juice cleanse.

My co-workers all reacted differently to the cleanse. One got cranky, one slept a lot, and one was too busy to notice she wasn't eating. I hope to be the third option.

So a few hours ago, I enjoyed my last meal before diving head-first into this cleanse which will begin tomorrow morning. I will post pictures and my reactions as the day wears on. The juice I am most nervous about is chlophyll water. This sounds more like something that would grow on the side of a fish tank or be the subject of a National Geographic botany special than something that should go into my body.

It may be a strange experience, but I am all for trying new things and documenting them. So, wish me luck!

Monday, October 1, 2012

My Running Mates

Don't worry, I'm not referring to politics. I am not about to unleash my own personal Paul Ryan on the scene. I am talking about running the sport, as in "don your Nikes and hit the track"running. And as for the "mates," I am talking about the people with whom I share the track every morning.

The mornings I am able to motivate my sorry butt out of bed at 6:30, which seems to my groggy mind to be the crack of dawn (actually, with the time change it is still relatively dark outside), I run up the road, turn right, turn left, and then complete between one and three laps (depending on the level of protest from my knees and feet) on the track at Holmby Park. (Side note: when my knees and feet just picket with their obnoxious homemade signs and crude slogans, I still manage to get to at least three miles. When they partake in a full-on strike, a la teachers in Chicago, is when I have to shorten the distance).

Due to my consistency as far as what time I go running, I tend to run past the same people on a daily basis. I have come to recognize the "regulars" who frequent Holmby Park. There is the elderly man who wears headphones and loudly sings old show tunes. There is the short middle-aged woman who does a fast walk while swinging her arms intently. There is the woman who wears a sweatshirt from Brown University. There is the elderly Asian couple. I always smile, wave or nod at all of them. Or, if I am not gasping for breath too much, I will go so far as to utter a brief greeting. Previously, my gestures went unnoticed. Yet slowly but surely, I turned people around. The toughest nuts to crack were the Asian couple- despite my attempts a friendly greeting they shifted their gaze away from me.

Persistence pays off, I discovered- after multiple weeks, they finally acknowledged me with a small smile. I had no one to wave or smile at yesterday, however; it turns out no one else goes running at 5 in the morning on Sundays. 

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Musical Border Crossing

Every musician must be jealous of Taylor Swift's ability to transcend musical genres. Unlike other artists and bands, she does not fit neatly into one category. For example, you can hear her song "Love Story" on a country radio station and then tune to a rock station which will be playing the same song, albeit a different version. All they do is nix the fiddle and add an electric guitar solo and BAM, her music transforms from country bumpkin anthems to pre-teen pop. It's a feat of magic Houdini himself could not perform.

No matter what style her song actually is, seemingly every radio station picks it up. Her most recent tune, "We Are Never Getting Back Together," or whatever it is called, sounds more along the lines of a Kesha or Katy Perry song, yet due to her well-established position as a country singer, country radio stations play it incessantly. This is a bit absurd, since I can't think of any other singer/band to which this phenomenon applies. You don't see remixes of Metallica songs where they add a banjo to make it acceptable for country radio. I'm not sure I would want to hear that song to be honest.

Actually I lied. While writing this, my mind came up with an example. The Band Perry, a band who also specializes in country twang, gets their songs made over with injections of electric guitar solos to make their appearance on pop radio acceptable. So, I suppose it just applies to country artists.




Monday, September 24, 2012

Marijuana: Not Worth the High

Marijuana users, irked by new laws banning or severely limiting the distribution and use of medical marijuana, list a variety of reasons defending the leafy substance. They claim that the medical benefits associated with marijuana far outweigh any potential health risks. However, the face of the debate is changing with the publication of studies revolving around the topic.

Recently, a study conducted in New Zealand revealed that long term marijuana users had lower IQs later in life than those who seldom or never used the substance. The authors of that particular study, published in the journal Proceedings of the National Academies of Science, concluded that: "Collectively, these findings are consistent with speculations that cannabis use in adolescence, when the brain is undergoing critical development, may have neurotoxic effects." 

These findings come at a time when marijuana use has skyrocketed among teens in the U.S. One of the pro-marijauana arguments is that the substance is not addictive in the way that other drugs are. However, according to an article in the LA Times, "neuroscience, animal studies, clinical reports of withdrawal in humans and epidemiology all show that marijuana is potentially addictive." 

Medical marijuana advocates do make some claims about the benefits of the plant which are backed by science. Studies show that it successfully treats neuropathic pain, increases appetite and reduces nausea in AIDS and cancer patients. However, the theory that it is a good treatment for glaucoma was debunked by a study which showed that the amount needed to do so far from makes it a viable option in place of other options. 

Those who suffer mental illness often turn to medical marijuana as treatment, but it was recently shown to cause these problems, not alleviate them. As stated in the aforementioned LA Times article, marijuana is linked to long-term psychiatric problems such as depression, anxiety and psychosis. "Marijuana often is regarded as a 'soft drug' with few harmful effects," says Dr. Joseph M. Pierre, co-chief of the Schizophrenia Treatment Unit at the Department of Veterans Affairs' West Los Angeles Healthcare Center. 

With new studies pointing out the negative effects of the leafy substance seeming to pop up daily, it is becoming more and more clear that it is far more detrimental than previously thought. 

Friday, September 21, 2012

Another Hammer Letdown

I want to thank the Hammer museum from the deepest depths of my heart for instilling in me the irrational fear of having a crazed dry cleaner employee suffocate me with plastic wrap and shove me into the back of his van as part of a killing rampage. I am serious as a heart attack- that was the topic of a music video screened last night. I wrongly assumed after the success of the first Flux film series which I attended around a month ago that the second part, screened last night, would be just as entertaining and uplifting. I'm not entirely sure what the opposite of uplifting is, I suppose "down bringing" but that is not a verb. My tardiness almost caused me to miss out on entry to the film series, and in retrospect that would have been exponentially better than sitting through it. But, you know what they say about hindsight.

The man who introduced the series warned us that this particular collection of short films were dark, but that did not really sink in until the first video ended. The first was a music video for a strange German band and seemed like the kind of thing someone would dream about after taking a combination of illegal drugs. Let me attempt to clearly summarize: a man and a little girl dismount a horse in the middle of the desert. The old man sets the little girl's doll on fire while telling her in a language that I did not recognize in the slightest that no one will ever help her in this life. Then she gets kidnapped by some weird desert clan people who brainwash her and brand her, she grows up and tries to avenge herself by killing the old man who killed her doll. But when she confronts him, he stabs her eye with a sword leaving her with a bloody eye socket. Then she fights a dragon with multiple heads and dies. Yes, seriously.

The second video I hoped would be more cheerful since it was a Norah Jones song music video, and she  tends to sing about cheery topics. But no, it seemed that the plot line of the lyrics were she beat a woman with an oar and then tied her body to a rock and tossed it into a lake. Nice.

During the worst one I had to stare at my knees after awhile as I was so disturbed. It was a music video for a song by a band called Liars, and the one that I refer to in my opening sentence to this blog. A lunatic old man who works in a dry cleaner goes home and changes and spends the night driving around going on a killing spree where he murders a ton of people in ways that disturbed me to new levels. Nice.

I could go on. But I will spare you. The only video I enjoyed was the music video for a song called "Hollywood" by RAC. It was a really nice song and I am going to add it to my workout playlist.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

SuperShuttle- Super Safe!

It's good to know that when you ride with SuperShuttle, you are in the care of some of the most secure shared van-drivers' hands. Do you detect sarcasm? Because you should. I cannot pinpoint which aspect of the ride from LAX to my apartment I loved the best. Let's mull it over together, shall we?

1) Ironically, despite the overwhelming presence of signs urging van riders to buckle up for safety, there was no buckle for my seatbelt. Since it was the last available space, this inconvenience forced me to do without for the duration of the journey. Safety strike 1, SuperShuttle...

2) The driver of the van managed the Los Angeles roads worse than an old woman with cataracts in both eyes declared legally blind by multiple eye doctors. He constantly fiddled around with the GPS attempting to determine his route. This would not have been an issue had he done so prior to driving, yet he was looking down at it and typing in addresses while fighting the infamous LA traffic. Doesn't put passengers in the best frame of mind. Even more assuring was the fact that riders had to inform the driver when the light turned green.

Perhaps the most depressing aspect of the ride was that I hardly cared how long the trip took because I had absolutely nothing better to do. It is sad when you use a SuperShuttle ride to unclog excess time from the arteries of life. 

Monday, September 10, 2012

The Nostrilator!

I have noticed that I possess a special power. I'm not sure if it has any promising potential or if anyone from Marvel could create a superhero based on my ability. Nonetheless, I noticed I have a bizarrely-acute sense of smell when it comes to perfume/scented toiletry identification. Specific, I know, but it is true. Today en route to the bus stop I found myself behind a woman walking extremely slowly in front of me. While attempting to pass her, I caught a whiff of her shampoo and distinctly identified it as Pantene. Erie. It is like I have a sixth sense. Actually, it is more like a fifth-and-a-half sense, more appropriately defined as a subcategory of the sense of smell.

This was somewhat revelatory for me. I have always been skilled at detecting the brand of perfume a woman uses and immediately know when a man has doused himself in Axe brand body spray. For some reason I negatively associate Axe with dirty men. Not dirty as in creepy middle school teachers with 70s mustaches that prey on their young students. I mean dirty in a literal sense, referring to guys that don't shower for extensive periods and attempt to mask their lack of hygiene with a body spray highly advertised as attractive to women. Let me tell you men who think that a cloud of body spray is a viable substitute for a shower- it doesn't work. Sorry.

Now that I have unearthed this secret talent of mine, I need to find a practical application for it. I need my readers to adorn their thinking caps because I am drawing a major blank. I did come up with a name for my superhero identity, however; The Nostrilator! Okay, maybe that lacks appeal. Not sure if moviegoers would attend that film. Not until I can concoct a viable arch nemesis. Logically, I suppose that would be a mutant creature comprised of piles of garbage and other vile-smelling things.

Any ideas? 

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Forever Young

It seems that if you want to remain forever young, you don't need the Fountain of Youth, but rather to choose the right profession. Whether it is a negatively or positively spun article, every single one focusing on Paul Ryan refers to him with some sort of youth-oriented verbs- boyish and young being the main two. He is 42 years old. Imagine if he were in a different profession- underwear model, perhaps (many wish he were!). He would be considered well past his prime. Same with Julio Castro, the youngest governor of Texas at age 37. President Obama himself joked that he looked more like an intern.

On the other end of the aging spectrum are gymnasts, particularly in the Olympics. How old are you? 16? Psh, far past your expiration date. Gymnasts peak around age 14 or 15, when China tries to sneak them into the Olympic Games.

To stay on a continuous path of youth, here is what I recommend: become a child actor, then a gymnast, then a model, then a politician. Boom. If you follow that list of occupations, you will surely remain forever young. 

Thursday, September 6, 2012

News- Expected to be Free

In his book Free, Chris Anderson argues that "sooner or later every company is going to have to figure out how to use Free or compete with Free, one way or another." Many traditional print news outlets like The New York Times and the Los Angeles Times are two companies that this argument directly applies to. Newspapers are dramatically struggling to find ways to convert their outdated business model to a digital one that will allow them to bring in revenue. In the past, ad sales on their pages generated their profit, but now that there are free ways to advertise with websites like Craigslist, newspapers need to look elsewhere to make money. This is a prime example of why they need to learn how to use, as Anderson calls it, "Free."

One way that newspapers attempt to cope with the transition from print to digital is by instituting pay walls requiring online readers to pay for a monthy subscription after they read a predetermined number of articles. This begs the question of whether or not readers will comply with this new model when there are so many other means of obtaining the same information for free.

Though papers like The New York Times and the Los Angeles Times still see a relatively high number of subscribers and have successfully convinced online readers to pay for content, this business model is not a viable one going forward for these companies. Eventually, they will need to concoct some other ways to generate profit as consumers are less and less willing to pay for news. Generally, people still willing to pay for a newspaper subscription are older. Younger generations of news-seekers turn to other media outlets for information. Therefore, instituting pay walls will typically not work for them.

Many companies face difficulties determining ways to generate revenue. A perfect recent example is that of Facebook. Their stock has already dropped substantially in value because it has yet to prove itself as more than just an internet fad like Myspace, and show that it is a viable business model. Clearly, in this modern age of technology where so much information is readily available at no cost, the only way to stay afloat is to find ways to incur profit at no cost to the consumer. Sounds like a conundrum. Newspapers need to put on their creative thinking caps to transition to a business model that excludes pay walls. 

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Roads of LA

Anything a traffic reporter needs to say in Los Angeles is: you're screwed. Don't even bother. Google maps should say the same thing to eager drivers seeking directions on their website. Any request in Los Angeles should put the website into self-destruct. Today I typed in my starting point and destination and Google maps said: total time: 12 minutes (35 in current traffic). Ha! Well, I wasn't laughing at the time.

The horrendous gridlock here is rated the worst in the nation for good reason, and can be attributed to multiple factors. Los Angeles drivers are among the worst in the nation, possibly the world (you could put them head to head with some European countries). To them, pedestrians equate to target practice and the horn is honked as a means of expressing any emotion, not solely to alert other drivers. This is typical driving behavior in normal weather. So, you can only imagine what happens when it starts to rain in a place where, let’s face it, it never rains. I don’t need to imagine it anymore (not as if I was previously, what a weird thing to imagine!) because I saw it firsthand.

Let me begin by relaying the humorous fact that there was a storm watch in place for Los Angeles this morning, provoked by what I consider a light sprinkle. Seattle natives would laugh in the faces of the Los Angelinos, the way that I do when they complain of humidity.
The way the already poor drivers of Los Angeles reacted to the gentle rainfall would have been comedic had I not been on the roads myself. To them, the celestial teardrops equated to massive, world-ending basketball-sized balls of hail. The forward motion on the highway slowed to a pace a snail could out-crawl (if you would say that snails crawl… maybe they slither? Slide? Glide?). This leads me to believe that they would all end up in a roadside ditch should they need to drive in *gasp* snow! Let’s hope it never comes to that.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

News Addiction

Yesterday I overdosed on an addictive drug. I almost didn't make it out alive after the convulsions, dry heaving and cold sweats. Seldom is the public alerted to the dangers of a news overdose, despite their severity. I now take up the role of informant for the greater good to expose the dangers of a news addiction.

When I tuned to NPR to hear a story which I earlier read in the paper and almost immediately afterwards saw on the news, I realized I have a problem. I am a news junkie. Without my daily fix of Diane Sawyer, I start jonesing big time. The LA Times app is constantly activated on my phone's screen. The soundtrack accompanying every car trip is NPR. I listen to it so often that I could easily recite the names of the reporters. I need to be hooked up to an IV of breaking news.

So when I realized that I was hearing a story for the third time in two days, I fully acknowledged my problem. Another clue came about when I realized that I dream about Syria, the Mars rover, the hantavirus and the election. After surviving my news overdose, I realized I needed to take action before my condition worsened, so I tuned to a different radio station for the first time in far too long. Turns out Michael Jackson is a pretty good cure for news addiction.


Sunday, September 2, 2012

Gardening Special Ops

Today I took on a top secret mission to protect one of the countries most prone to invasion and casualties of war: my grandparent's garden. It was a risky endeavor involving skills possessed by a select few, and my completion would ensure my promotion to a higher rank in the gardening special ops (bet you didn't even know that existed- that is how secretive and selective it is).

My first task was one to heal the ailing and wounded soldiers assigned to protect the hill behind my grandparent's house from invadors. The vegetation lining the hill and surrounding the army's power source (the solar panels on the hill) needed fertilizer- badly. Time was running out for the desperate soldiers, so my commander sent me in to save the day. One by one, I scattered four 20-pound bags of fertilizer along the expanse, making sure to leave no soldier unaided.

The next mission sounded simpler, but was more dangerous. Our intelligence unit informed me that a rogue ivy leaf was spotted in our grounds. The spy, sent by the neighboring garden already invaded by the ivy bent on world domination, intended to wriggle its way into our garden and initiate a takeover. I could not let that happen. Wielding weed killer, I trudged up the steep hill to the ivy's inconspicuous hiding spot and took him out before he knew what hit him.

My final task was a maintenance task. One of the sprinkler heads providing sustenance for the hill's vegetation needed adjustment as it was not functioning properly. I headed up the hill one final time, fixed the sprinkler, thus accomplishing my mission. I now hold the highest rank in gardening special ops.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Alesha Thomas Dies after Resisting Arrest

After numerous efforts to restrain Alesia Thomas, a South Los Angeles woman under arrest on suspicion of Child Endangerment, police managed to get her into their vehicle where she almost immediately stopped breathing. The officers called the Los Angeles Fire Department Paramedics who transported Thomas to a hospital where she died soon after.

LAPD's Force Investigation Detectives are investigating the incident. The attempts to restrain Thomas to take her into custody involved various forceful tactics including a leg sweep. According to a news release regarding the incident, in-car cameras revealed questionable physical methods of restraint along with possible verbal abuse on the part of the officers.

Thomas was accused of abandoning two children, a 3-year-old and a 12-year-old, at the police station at 2 p.m. The officers then headed to their home where they found 35-year-old Thomas who immediately resisted arrest. According to the policies of the police department, "an officer's use of force actions must be objectively reasonable." The police department is thoroughly investigating the facts surrounding Thomas's death. Chief Beck stated:

“I take all in-custody death investigations very seriously and directed that the
officers involved be removed from field duties until further details are known, including what
part intoxicants and physical conditions contributed. I’m confident we will get to the truth, no
matter where that leads us.”

George W. Bush: Hilarious and Charming

No, you did not read that wrong. The 43rd president of the United States, generally characterized as fumbling over his words (nuc-u-ler? Nuc-le-ar?) and lacking charisma, is witty and personable. Or, at least was during his 2000 campaign.

In her behind-the-scenes, lighthearted documentary Journeys with George, Alexandra Pelosi (daughter of Nancy Pelosi) shows viewers a George Bush the nation didn’t get to know. The film, captured on her personal camcorder, portrayed George as a very real man who loved Cheetos and balogna sandwhiches and cracking jokes.
Pelosi makes the campaign trail and media circus look exhausting but entertaining. Her encounters with journalists representing all the major news outlets and George Bush's campain team members such as Karl Rove are enlightening. When some of the other reporters mistreated Pelosi, Bush took her aside and reassured and comforted her. Why didn't America get to see this side of Bush?

Parts of her tale, like her complaints of how all they ever ate were turkey sandwiches, were perhaps attempts to deter aspiring media professionals. But when a British journalist pointed out why he loves elections (they are everything anyone would want to cover- they contain human drama, entertainment, policy and are serious events all in one), it made me ready to jump onto the next campaign bus, no matter whose it is. 

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Spin

Last week, a desert of boredom thanks to lack of activity at the Hammer Museum, proved void of any blog-worthy events. In fact, I can't recall what I wrote about as my daily activities were limited to work and homework or watching the news. Surely I concocted something to entertain my readers.

Fortunately, the Hammer Museum's calendar filled up again this week with its continuing series of documentaries focusing on past presidential elections. There was one screening last week, but of course it fell exactly during the time I have class, so I had to miss out. Last night's film focused on the media's portrayal of the race between Clinton and then-President Bush. Not exclusively, however; it was more of a critique on what goes on in media coverage that we do not see. The film's creator spent time listening to satellite feeds of news coverage, focusing specifically on what is said when reporters, TV show hosts and their subjects (in this case, mainly the presidential candidates) think no one can hear them (for example, their conversations during commercial breaks). The film, Spin, earned its title from the "spin" that the media puts on stories.

The content was certainly interesting, if not a bit eerie, perhaps thanks to the futuristic, outer-space-esque sound effects not foreign to '90s films. Larry King, whose behind-the-scenes comments made up a good deal of the documentary and completely deterred me from the talk show host, was a main focus of the film. The things he said when he thought no one was listening were borderline terrifying. It is during those times that people show their true colors.

The film also touched on how the media covers what it wants, and only that. For example, there was a man running for Democratic nominee against Clinton who I had never even heard of because the media banned him from participating in debates. Ironically, they reasoned that it was because he lacked substantial media coverage. There's a Catch 22 if I ever heard of one.

Tonight's film is about George W. Bush. Not sure specifically what about him, but given this is Los Angeles, I don't imagine it will be anything positive. Stay tuned! 

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Bus Conversations

I struggle to find a manner to portray my feelings pertaining to the Los Angeles bus system in a way that does my sentiments justice. The Los Angeles metro system is hypocritical, slow and infuriating and tries my patience as nothing ever has before. The system which boasts punctuality and ease of use rivals  driving in Los Angeles traffic. I can't decide which is worse- standing around waiting 45 minutes for a bus that, based on its posted schedule, comes every 10-15, or sitting in bumper-to-bumper gridlock. At least in the gridlock I feel like I can be productive by listening to NPR. In that case, I can also have a minor breakdown in my car and no one else is around to witness my psychotic moment except possibly the driver beside me.

The bus is not all bad either, I suppose- I have overheard entertaining conversations (entertaining being a broad understatement). Yesterday I almost had a meltdown in public, much akin to my crying bout at the DMV about a month ago. After walking about 15 minutes to the bus stop, I then had to wait 45 minutes for the bus to show up. During times like these, my smart phone and LA Times app come in handy. Or it would have, if I had not already read every article in the paper at work.

When I finally got on the bus, there were no seats so I planted myself in the most comfortable standing position I could get myself into, and proceeded to listen to one of the most obnoxious conversations of my life. Basically, it was two late 20-somethings volleying a list of places they wanted to travel to. It started out where one would say "I really want to go to Rome!" and the other would say "yeah, good food there!" and then they would discuss Rome a little bit, and then move on to the next desired travel spot. But at one point it went something like this:

Guy: I wanna go to Amsterdam. Lots of pot.
Girl: Totally. I want to go to Jamaica.
Guy: Oh man, Jamaica. I want to go to Brazil.
Girl: OMG, Brazil! Totally.
Guy: I want to go to Venice.
Girl: I heard it smells but yeah. I want to go to Korea!
Guy: I want to go to Japan.
Girl: I want to go to Denver!
Guy: All that's there are like hicks in log cabins and mosquitos.

Wow. clearly he has never been to Denver before.
And on it went until, about 45 minutes later, I got back to my apartment. Even in gridlock, I would have made it back in 30 total by car. Really makes me mad. 

Monday, August 27, 2012

How Did This Happen?

I have morphed into a strange being. The kind that are the focus of fantasy novel plots. Something able to strike fear into the hearts of young children attempting to fall asleep in their dark rooms. I have become a creature more terrifying than a werewolf- something which makes the boogeyman seem like a harmless bunny. I am officially a morning person! (Insert ominous musical accompaniment here)

I can't fathom how this happened to me. Mere years ago you couldn't wake me before 10 a.m. with a hot poker. Unless of course it was during the school year in which case I would barely manage to roll out the side of my bed after hitting "snooze" countless times, only due to necessity. Yet now, I voluntarily rise between 6:30 and 7 in the morning daily. I consider sleeping until 8 lazy and almost impossible, even when I have zero tasks to complete in a given day.

I retire to read in my room for the evening around 9:30 or 10. I am prematurely old. I spend my mornings going for long runs followed by leisurely reading the paper while sipping my coffee and eating cereal. At least I read the newspaper on my iPad. That places me closer to my age group, I think.

I just can't figure out how this happened. I used to revel in the night. Staying up late was routine. Now the morning seems more enticing to me than ever. I adore running in the crisp air of a fresh day beneath the newly risen sun and a clear blue sky. Everyone seems a bit more cheerful in the morning before the stress of the day has negatively impacted their moods. When I pass by strangers, they are more likely to greet me with a wave, a smile or even a "hello" or "good morning."

This change in me, though strange, is a welcome one. I am happy to deem myself a morning person. 

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Prince Harry Naked in Vegas

Las Vegas, you are such a drama queen. Of course, this has always been the case to some extent. But the city has been brandishing its attention-hogging side and flexing its "look at me, look at me!" muscle to a greater degree this past week.

telegraph.co.uk


What happens in Vegas does not actually stay in Vegas, at least if you are Prince Harry. He and his nude antics popped up on media outlets. Blurred photos of the royal and a gaggle of gorgeous women became hot search items on the Web. They were hardly even blurred on their original locale of publication, the entertaiment gossip site TMZ. His actions, routine behavior (or should I say behaviour? [Spelled the British way]) for him were hardly a shock for Grandma dearest, the epitome of proper.



Someone with a parody Twitter account for Harry, who apparently needs a spelling lesson, showed his nonchalant attitude in a recent Tweet regarding the incident.



Perhaps the photos will even aid him in a career change, as he was allegedly offered a substantial sum to star in an adult film. Somehow, I wouldn't be floored if he took up that offer. At least Harry's bare bum won't be oggled by many Brits as most publications except the Sun refrained from publishing the photos. Not for any legal reasons, just out of good taste.

Newyorker.com

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Lance Armstrong Gives Up Fight Against USADA: Likely to Lose 7 Tour de France Titles

I am speechless. Figuratively, because I am about to unleash a firestorm of my thoughts on the USADA calling to ban Lance Armstrong from competing for life and to have his seven Tour de France titles stripped.

A detailed NBC article focused on Armstrong's sentiments that he is just plain worn out from constantly fighting the anti-doping agency. Understandably so- he pointed out that he passed hundreds of drug tests between 1999 and 2005, the years in which he earned his titles.

Key word: EARNED his titles. "Enraged" hardly gives my feelings towards the USADA justice. I don't even want to give them the pleasure of having their name in my sacred blog space. From now on, they shall be referred to as Agency A. A mental image crops up in my mind of conspiring, hunched-over mutant-people cackling around a bubbling cauldron as they announce the punishments imposed on Armstrong. Who feels good about stripping an inspiring cancer survivor of his hard-earned titles? The evil individuals at Agency A.

As stated by the NBC article, Armstrong's story was the "ultimate comeback tale."

When diagnosed with cancer, doctors had given him less than a 50% chance of survival before surgery and brutal cycles of chemotherapy saved his life.Armstrong's riveting victories, his work for cancer awareness and his gossip-page romances with rocker Sheryl Crow, fashion designer Tory Burch and actress Kate Hudson made him a figure who transcended sports.
His dominance of the Tour de France elevated the sport's popularity in America to unprecedented levels. His story and success helped sell millions of the "Livestrong" plastic yellow wrist bracelets, and enabled him to enlist lawmakers and global policymakers to promote cancer awareness and research. His Lance Armstrong Foundation has raised nearly $500 million since its founding in 1997.
I'm not the only one standing behind Lance during these crap allegations:



Mick Shaffer makes a great point with his Tweet referring to the number of unclean athletes in baseball. What's with the witch hunt against Lance? Many pro-athletes are cheating but they are going after biking more than any other sport and attacking the previous heroes of cycling. Other sports, for example baseball, look the other way- they want to keep their heroes no matter what. Big sports have the backing of big money keeping the drug allegations at bay. The morons at Agency A have lost their minds- they are on some crazy powertrip/vendetta. Lance beat cancer and devotes his life to efforts to end cancer. A good man working for an honorable cause does not deserve this treatment.

I'm with Dane Cook 100%.
Agency A can do whatever they want and allege and accuse Lance until the end of time. I still contest that he is an amazing individual and continue to support him and his cause.

Blue Lawn Chair

Apparently, I care about lawn chairs. I’ve always known that I typically give inanimate objects personalities and feelings. The “As-is” sect...