MyAvatar (anglais)

Psycholove

2008-09-29T22:31:00.003+03:00

Yesterday, on a beautiful and sweet Sunday we celebrated Ask a Stupid Question Day. Stop laughing, I know it’s crazy, it’s actually like celebrating Peeing Day, or buying balloons for the 15 years since Dumb and Dumber got released.

Yet you all know I am silly. So… a silly person wouldn’t miss writing about stupid questions for the world! Take a sip of coke and listen:

From time to time I like to spend some free time checking out my blog-visits. There is a fast-food chain in Greece called Free time, stinky burgers. Anyway many of them come from google searches. Boring, boring, most of them are looking for sex and Chinese girls who want to have sex. One though was particularly interesting, a fabulous exception. A female web surfer who seemed to be in big and sentimental trouble, googled her little problem: “In love with my psychiatrist! “

Alright, sweetheart, I don’t want you to look for solutions to another psychiatrist and finally fall in love with him also –what a vicious circle that would be! Ok, you know what I am kinder than Mother Theresa: I’m gonna light you a path.

It doesn’t seem uncommon for a woman to get sentimentally involved with her shrink. It’s kinda like The Prince of Tides, eeeerrrr although Barbra Streisand is not a guy; hmm she does have a big nose however hahaha (get it? big nose-fallacious symbol, oh what a stupid thing to say). Hear my thought: I consider that each psychological disorder constitutes an exaggeration of a natural operation of the human psychosynthesis. A sense exaggerated that lasts and insists - this is my own definition of the psychological problem.

In order for you to grasp my idea I am going to set an example of perversion, of which the super-light version we have all lived. Bondage!

The weird factor, when a couple consents to this sexual behavior, is not the sadism of the dominator but the masochist feelings of the submitted. Why would someone enjoy pain? Ahmmm, well because she/he’s a freak. Ok besides that hahahahaha: What attracts in the masochism of this kind is the individual’s total inactivity, the 1000% dependence from the powerful dominator that has as a result a sense of safety. Freaky huh? Human nature, my friends, is way more complicated when it gets distorted.

A dash of oregano… oh my god am I that hungry (!) –sorry, I’m back, I’m back: a dash of the bondage philosophy certainly constitutes a part of our little hearts and regulates our interpersonal relations, including the erotic ones, in a large degree. Moreover women get “submitted” more often despite the maternal instincts because of the nature of their social roles and their phenomenal physical weaknesses –somehow the fact that we don’t manage to open a jam jar by ourselves has to be a big deal.

Moving on! The relationship of the patient-gal and the psycho-dude, involves a lot of bondage action. The distant man interviews/examines the poor woman who has to smash each of her walls, speak of her life and soul, her “romantic” experiences and be sincere about all these! This, my dear Ovi readers, is called submission... submission in all its glory. And the masochism? The acceptance of his prescription. The distance that he will always keep (as a doctor). And the way he may break her at any time with one look, a word (as a person) –which hurts a lot because she has already exposed her whole true story with no love or intimacy in the air.

Hmmm, but I promised to help -I am going to propose a solution: Ask him out and find a woman psychiatrist to heal your little psycho-wounds. Cool?

Now… who’s got a whip?

Published by OviMagazine.

International Day of the World's (Indigenous) People

2008-08-09T16:00:00.002+03:00

I was just thinking about this day, the 9th of August, the International Day of the World’s Indigenous People and it just hit me… why don’t we dedicate a day for celebrating people, I mean all people, all kinds of people, of sexes, colours, hairy people, fat, tall, asexual, you deserve a big and fancy balloon.

Intermission –eat your chips: I just killed a teeny tiny and very annoying insect that was strolling on the laptop screen, I hope today is not the World’s Most Annoying Little Creatures Day. Anyway, I am listening to Barbara Streisand right now, "Memoryyyyyy" –yeah I know a bit corny but I’m in a really romantic mood… you know being a girl and all my heart gets no rest…

So, during the day we celebrate people, we should ponder over huge issues that threaten society. You know the way a big fat elephant can scare the hell out of cute little Ratatouille (I named the mouse of the metaphor after the Disney’s character so what? Hahaha) –oops, isn’t there a stupid misconception about elephants having a musophobia? Anyway, when mentioning these huge social issues I was actually referring to sexism, racism, fanaticism: Boys excel in math and chess, girls dig painting their nails, while black people are stupid but have big private areas ‘cause God did them a favor. Yeah right.

What interests me the most is not the attitude of a racist, but the social behaviour of a racism victim. The “stereotype threat” affects our behavior and is reflected in every aspect of our personality. Examples, please gather around:

1) In 1964, Katz, Epps, & Axelson, studied the stereotype threat by testing it on students: African-American students performed better on an IQ test when they believed their performance would be compared to other African-Americans as opposed to European-Americans.

2) In 1965 Katz, Roberts, & Robinson conducted the following experiment which depicts the stereotype threat in the best possible way: African Americans performed better on an IQ test when it was presented to them as a simple test than when it was said to be an IQ test which would measure their intelligence. In some formal words what conveys from these studies: Low performance expectation may cause withdrawal of effort. The stereotype threat might be expected to undermine the standardized test performance of African-Americans relative to European-Americans who do not suffer this added threat. Oh my God, too formal… I feel like wearing glasses, hahaha.

Imagine you’re a comedian and you have to make fun of everything, nature catastrophes, wars, death, racism, every single tragedy, wouldn’t you think that stereotypes that socially torture us, stereotypes that in part caused Auschwitz and Apartheid, stereotypes that WE form, and then strike us like a boomerang are the silliest phenomenon ever occurred on earth?

I mean nothing’s there, you say black is bad, then you realize you’re black and kill yourself. Get it? I wrote once in a novel: I hurt my heart just to satisfy my depressed nature. That’s it! We need a day, 24 hours to think about these problems, once a year we should walk outside with no worries, less hatred, feeling safe and 100% socially accepted. I am asking too much I know… Whatever dudes, I gotta run, my pop corn’s ready, I’m watching Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs tonight –hey! Don’t jump into any conclusions, don’t be slaves of stereotypes… I’ll bite your nose! See ya soon…

Published by OviMagazine.

Mother's Day, yeah baby!

2008-05-11T14:02:00.004+03:00

Hellooooo!!! Who missed me? Ok, alright, wow so many, get in line, don’t push each other… but enough of me, this is not a special day for me after all ‘cause I got no kids. Today it’s Mother’s Day, so come on, go and send flowers, kisses and lots of Hallmark Cards for the amazing creature that brought the amazing you into life and taught you how to walk and speak – she didn’t teach you how to dance though, hmmm tough.

Mothers… women… women… mothers… Aren’t we something – I say.

What is a mother anyway? A woman that brings a new life into the world and determines drastically her child’s upbringing! Behind every great man there’s a great woman and it’s no joke ‘cause no one’s laughing for a start. Secondly you have noticed in History how mothers and spouses/lovers influenced male leaders. I’d tell a couple of examples but you got enough A’s in school… you already know and you don’t need me to be Miss “I know everything”.

This powerful bond/relationship that connects the two sexes is either erotic or parental –yep I don’t care for heterosexual friendships that much. Men admire women for being able to give birth, in other words create. After all, haven’t you heard what were Kurt Cobain’s favorite pets – the male seahorse, the exception that can carry his kiddies. And who can forget the classic scene from "The Family Guy" where the family guy himself attempts to breastfeed (gross!) his baby boy…

Just a little personal note here (“a strange interlude” a Marx brother would say): I believe that this is the reason there is a male dominance in the art world – man’s need to mimic maternity by creating his own form of “life” (=art)… just a thought, right?

So, many ancient societies were matriarchal, nature is a girl (and loves green, which is the new pink) and in Greek Mythology (which is awesome just because I’m Greek & awesome) the Earth falls for the Sky and they’re getting married (what a Disney happy ending!). I hear your argument, Sky is the man and has all these stars, and the sun, the moon, yeah it all sounds pretty neat and funky, but the Earth, oh she is more drastically related to humans: Women in general are of higher emotional intelligence – they tend to be tender (always offering cuddling and sweet kisses), but also severe like a spinster teacher when it comes to handling boys’ naughtiness (hehe).

I mean you’ve seen how kids play… Boys just loooove decapitating their toys whereas girls yell at their dolls (for not co-operating hahaha) and then they hug the poor toys and whisper into their little plastic ears, “Oh come on, don’t you cry, hush, hush, my beautiful princess”. Men long for these female attitudes: on one hand, they want to be adored for enhancing their self-esteem, but on the other hand they just need a smack (or a slap) just to be reminded of their two great loves, their mother and their childhood.

I’d love to keep thinking and typing about mothers but I’m exhausted and have tonnes of work – I’m concluding now before I drop dead: all mothers are truly incredible but not as incredible as mine! Hey mum…

Σ’ αγαπάω. (I only love in greek hehe, sorry about that.)

Ps. I love spring, I love that Mother’s Day is celebrated in spring when all flowers are blooming and the air smells good, oh and the daisies, oh… I’m in a good mood tonight hahahaha!!!

Published by OviMagazine.

A dark bloody day this is

2008-01-19T17:48:00.000+03:00

Oh! Oh! Do you hear that? A heart is ticking… under my floorboards. Ha!

Edgar Allan Poe (January 19, 1809 - October 7, 1849)

Hail for International Literacy Day

2007-09-09T01:09:00.000+03:00

Hey there stranger, come on keeeeeep reading this article in all your glory ‘cause that’s what this day is about -your ability to read –furthermore: to write a comment, a shopping list, a will, a birthday card –hmm, I should leave the will for last. Hehe!

Seriously in 1965 UNESCO set a date for celebrating the International Literacy Day.

“Its aim is to highlight the importance of literacy to individuals, communities and societies. An estimated 781 million adults live without basic literacy skills, of whom two-thirds are women. In addition, approximately 103 million children have no access to school and are therefore not learning to read, write or count.

According to UNESCO’s "Global Monitoring Report on Education for All (2006)", South and West Asia has the lowest regional adult literacy rate (58.6%), followed by sub-Saharan Africa (59.7%), and the Arab States (62.7%). Countries with the lowest literacy rates in the world are Burkina Faso (12.8%), Niger (14.4%) and Mali (19%). The report shows a clear connection between illiteracy and countries in severe poverty, and between illiteracy and prejudice against women.” - By Wikipedia

In Wikipedia I also read a very interesting article on Literacy, so enjoy the link, folks…

Back to me? Good! Each and everyone on this planet must access the “literacy field”. There’s no doubt about that! Being able to write and read broadens the limits of your world giving you the ability to communicate, to learn meaning cultivate your mind, generally to grow as a person or as a god if you think yourself like William Blake.

Plus another aspect: Don’t dare to forget that since a person makes acquaintances with Literacy can also meet one of her daughters, Miss Literature. Ahh reading a book, a poem actually or a novel is just like having a cup of tea with C. Dickens, taking a long green walk along with Emily Bronte or smoking pot next to Jack Kerouac. Literature is about feeling, thinking and traveling in another dimension imaginary; yet sometimes even more real and complicated than the world we live in. Oh no man, I’m not crazy, Dostoyevsky totally agrees on that last thought.

Dostoyevsky… What an author! Did your mama ever tell you a tale about the goose that gave birth to golden eggs? Well he was the man who “spat out” the diamond thoughts. Mankind can be pretty awesome sometimes: Give a child ABC, they’ll grow up to give you The Idiot!

In the end I’m thinking that Literacy is about expressing, fulfilling your needs, even escaping from your surroundings. Kofi Annan please play ball:

“On this International Literacy Day, let us recall that literacy for all is an integral part of education for all, and that both are critical for achieving truly sustainable development for all.[…] Literacy unlocks the door to learning throughout life, is essential to development and health, and opens the way for democratic participation and active citizenship.[…] Literacy is a bridge from misery to hope. It is a tool for daily life in modern society. It is a bulwark against poverty, and a building block of development, an essential complement to investments in roads, dams, clinics and factories.

Literacy is a platform for democratization, and a vehicle for the promotion of cultural and national identity. Especially for girls and women, it is an agent of family health and nutrition. For everyone, everywhere, literacy is, along with education in general, a basic human right.... Literacy is, finally, the road to human progress and the means through which every man, woman and child can realize his or her full potential.”

Oh shoot, I just got cramps in my toes; ok the pain is gone now. So! I guess this is just an informative article about this day with plenty of Wikipedia references and Kofi quotes, no great thoughts including… but this: Some things may seem little like this right moment that you’re wasting reading my babblings, yet consider this, before being able to help someone get the literacy skills they desperately need you’ll pretty much have to appreciate what you’re offering by realizing its importance through your life.

Am I right or what?

Wink and smile!

Published by OviMagazine.

Seriously

2007-06-24T00:31:00.000+03:00

... we need some time off, the summer is here man!!

Irving Penn and Female Beauty

2007-06-17T23:15:00.000+03:00

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Irving, oh rhyme’s not good, can I call you Stanley? Yeah it doesn’t rhyme either but it reminds me of Marlon in A Streetcar Named Desire. Hmm?

OK! Make room, ladies and gentlemen, for a great American photographer and his heavy cake – today Irving Penn turns 90. After doing the math – oh yeah, he was born in 1917 - World War II, Cold War, Vietnam, a goooood loooong life.

I love Penn’s work, especially his famous black & white portraits and his female nudes. Irving worked for many years doing fashion photography for Vogue Magazine, meaning that you gals must have seen his arty pictures while flipping through Vogue (vooogue, it sounds so glamorous, hm?)… His photographic lens captured some very important persons such as Marcel Duchamp, and Georgia O'Keeffe, W.H. Auden, Igor Stravinsky, and Marlene Dietrich.

His technique’s characterized by attention to detail, clarity and carefully arrangement of objects or people. Very often over the years his work (for example a series of posed nudes whose physical shapes range from thin to plump) was so ahead of its time that it only came to be appreciated in decades after the original day of creation.

Penn currently lives and works in New York City. He has published numerous books, including Still Life, Photographs of Dahomey & A Notebook at Random.

Whatever… his biography is not that important, I’d rather make a compare-contrast his Beauty Philosophy of a Woman with today’s perception of Female Beauty. Being a photographer for Vogue he had to do a lot with women and his main interest would be to catch their gorgeousness on film. What is interesting of his art is that he depicts female beauty exactly as it is in real life and not in fairy tales. He photographs normal breasts –sometimes saggy - it’s about aging people - fat ankles or knees, “flaw-full” yet lovable women.

This guy is a rare species. Man, nowdays we’re so overwhelmed with all these “perfect” female figures, skinny, fake like, so freaking disordered and photoshoped. Little girls are going crazy. I remember myself as a kid being jealous of the fashion models and actresses for having the right sized butt or nose. It was until later I discovered that’s not beauty, that’s just insecurity, anorexia nervosa and numerous plastic surgeries. I keep wondering why we mess up our nature that much.

The references to sex around us have been multiplied dramatically in the past few years just because Media and Society mirror the needs of the masses. In 21st century the dream of sex has clearly been established. The new American Dream is the Sex Dream. Everyone that walks on this Earth with has one basic desire, “must-have-sex, must-have-sex”!

How come our perception of beauty got that distorted? Hmmm, according to scientific researches (hehe) most men seem to like: Slim girls, busty breasts, small nose, small chin, long silky hair, smooth skin and juicy lips. Rather infrequently does nature gifts a woman with all of these features: a girl hardly ever has both full lips and a small chin / it’s quite impossible for a girl to be thin and busty breasted. Alright, nature screwed up… Thank God there’re the plastic surgeons to alter female looks. Thank god –furthermore- for Photoshop that can promote unnatural body & facial proportions in publicity photos. Great, now teenage boys think a girl’s breasts should be round like a balloon, and a girl’s wish is to have fleshy porn-lips like her celebrity idol –let’s not call names here…

The whole misunderstanding was the equation of beauty with sensuality. No. I gotta choose more suitable words for my statement: The whole misunderstanding was the equation of exterior appearance with sensuality. On account of plastic surgery advancements and people’s craving for sex, society tried to materialize a woman’s aura at the time she flirts her male victim. Hey! Girls need a beauty canon to follow so that they’ll be able to achieve multiple orgasms (metaphorically & literally), right?

Yet true sensuality lies on HER dilated pupils, HER warm smiles –while a woman’s lips swell and redden when stimulated sexually, HER seductive body language and tone of voice. There are women very hot, and some not so -something which is reflected at their behavior. But solid eroticism is not engraved in the physiognomies, but arises through them each time a love interest shows up. Therefore:

A woman is erotic when she is in love.

A woman is beautiful when she loves herself.

The society tried to find the exact picture of human beauty along with sex appeal. Huge mistake! Because there can’t be just one picture, but there are billions of them that concern small, very small groups of individuals.

Enjoy Irving Penn’s pictures –truly beautiful and erotic…

(Published by OviMagazine)

Arsenic and Old Cinema

2007-06-14T01:07:00.000+03:00

I woke up rather roughly this morning, hmm from a dream (oh what a dream! Inappropriate both for minors and adults, hehe). I got up… and dressed up and went out & got laid. Hahaha, Jack Kerouac, not me. Let’s start over: So I got up with a dead (to the last cell) brain yet unusually daisy like (you know: bright face, refreshed arms & legs, soft skin –god, I love this when it happens). I wandered around the house for a few minutes with no sense of orientation and my mind finally got in order after the second cup of coffee.

Now I am sipping the third cup while recalling all my buggers. I stick to the most important (that could also concern you ‘cause I’m cute and considerate, you know that): Yesterday I got really upset with Johnny Depp; we didn’t fight (children were watching) yet I’m still pissed off at him, in the same way Marilyn frowned her sweet, little face. Hahahaha, no I’m yanking you, I’m actually quite angry, kinda like DePalma’s Carrie after her disastrous prom dance.

Over the last ten years I’ve grown pretty fond of Johnny Depp; two of his films possess the top spots in my top 10 movie list (guess which, hehe). I used to watch “21 Jump Street” as a kid, yet essentially I discovered the actor Johnny Depp in Arizona Dream. I was 10-years-old (I won’t - I can’t – comment, the trauma of a child that sees Kusturica, sniff; I still glance at that stupid fish and bbbrrrr). And then came Edward Scissorhands, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape (his mum? Oh, I’m so nasty I hate myself, hahahaha), etc. etc.

He won me over little by little as I observed the way he attributes each of his parts; the acting method he’s using is totally unique + effective. In my reviews I am used to characterizing him as a talented mimic with extreme compositive ability, so that he shapes performances adopting multiple models out of his environment, other actors, animals or cartoons… Moreover he accomplishes to color his personalities so softly, that he contributes in the aesthetics of the film disarming every grotesque element. Girls (you may have noticed) love him because he’s a dish; I love him because his physiognomy with its subtle characteristics ensures him the ableness of a chameleon.

He is the only actor of his generation that has offered such a rich - in quality & quantity - work in the cinema industry. A little vermin, a total freak, “The term 'serious actor' is kind of an oxymoron, isn't it? Republican party, airplane food". His complicated personality had as a result his cinematographic choices. Now, try and visualize Ed Scissorhands with Tom Cruise starring (he was considered for the role)! Jarmusch wrote Dead Man for Johnny, convinced that if the actor rejected the leading part he wouldn’t shoot the film.

The actor by his nature may obey and execute commands; but Depp happens to be one of the few actors that form their character through their interpretation. Johnny Depp belongs in the category of creators, he changes the script, his styling, the camera’s lenses – he just drives any ignorant director maaaad. A fact easily proved by the point he wished to do something more than acting…

In 1996 he undertook the script, direction and leading part of The Brave. Thus he spoke to us for an unemployed Amerindian, who sold his life to a snuff film producer for $50,000 in order to provide for his family. Terry Gilliam quotes about the movie: “He had this project that he felt deeply about, he directed it, and then the money guys wanted it at Cannes - but he never really had the chance to finish the film properly.”

The criticism at the Cannes Festival disappointed Depp; as a result he refused to show The Brave in the USA: “You know what was traumatizing […] the reception of the film was beyond any expectations that I had, I mean I had no idea that I'd be looking at, you know, Bertolucci sitting there watching my film, or Antonioni, or Kusturica watching my film, and then to receive the, you know the applause that my film got was so incredible -- you know, to have Antonioni say "Bravo" to me, I mean, and then the next day, the majority of the press -- and the majority of it was American press -- just turned it into this horrible thing. And once again, everybody's entitled to their opinion -- maybe it's a bad film, maybe it's a good film, to me it's just a film, it's something I wanted to make”.

My opinion (I know you want it) is that Depp’s movie was extremely interesting and bitter, while you can’t overlook the arty element’s effort to depict the psychology of the hero –some particular scenes are magic. Hmm, perhaps I’ll write a more detailed review some other time…

Still you’re trying to figure out why I’m angry at him, are you? So I was taking a look at this year’s Festival of Cannes winners. Best direction: Julian Schnabel for his film Le Scaphandre et le Papillon. “Perfect!” I thought to myself, since the original choice for the lead was Depp. I then navigated to IMDB and I just couldn’t believe my eyes & my horribly dusty screen… I rubbed my eyes, wiped the screen with spit and a sleeve, I looked again: Depp turned down the leading part (oh yeah! the one that could turn into the best of his life!).

He dropped from the project due to scheduling conflicts while filming the second Pirates of the Caribbean sequel... I just cried out: What an idiot (in truth I swore worse than that but I wear the good girl suit right now)!!!… He rejected a film that was based on a perfect book, shot by a very good filmmaker, the production was half American half European… Arghh, it seems like Captain Jack Sparrow, forgot himself too much time in his sauna with the result of an overcooked head! This is not a joke for me; I had to listen to three Sasha Distel songs just to calm down. “Le jour se lève et j’ai très mal dormi”, lalala…

The rebel actor that used to smash everything on the “21 Jump Street” TV sets … The actor that literally puked in the name of Hollywood and drank shots (or ginger ale) with Jarmusch, Gilliam, Kusturica, Burton + other amazing persons… The actor that took part in the weirdest projects even though he was paid thin air… This actor has already scheduled the sequels of “Pirates of the Caribbean” and “Sin City”, owns an island and takes his eight-year.old daughter to shop for Gucci purses (perfect - that’s exactly what we need, another chick – she’s 8 man! She should hand-make her toys, not buy labeled crap).

I really believed that he would write a chapter in The History of Cinema if he continued the good work of the '90s. I believed that he could “establish” an acting school like Brando or Dean. Why did he throw everything away? Please, don’t tell me “for the money” because it will be true and I’ll lose a little bit more of my faith in the human kind.

Ps. I’m looking forward to finding out whether his upcoming projects (The Rum Diary & Shantaram) are worth watching… other than that Depp’s career completed its circle. Teenage heartthrob he was, a teenage heartthrob he is. Oh, I’m so hoping for the best, but I’m prepared for the worst… Damn!

(Published by OviMagazine)

Arizona Dream (shalalalala)

2007-06-11T02:57:00.000+03:00

[You're welcome :))]

It's a sad and beautiful world

2007-06-07T00:59:00.000+03:00

Ok, great, focus people: We’re talking here about the third creation of an independent, gorgeous filmmaker by the name of Jim Jarmusch (bold his name spelling in your mind please!!): The movie Down by Law contemplates human personalities as arising from their interrelation with one another. Wanting to be more specific I’ll say it depicts human coexistence always from the angle of Jarmusch’s peculiar humor sense.

In short, the story takes place in a Louisiana prison where a pimp, a failed DJ, and a weird Italian guy (with just a bunch of English words in his pocket – that appear to be quite enough) make acquaintances. Despite the adversities developed among them they finally shake hands in order to escape from jail. “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.” (Don’t worry you’ll figure it out eventually, hehe). After their getaway attempt succeeds, they roam hungry and lost in the marshes of New Orleans until each of them picks to follow a different path.

The film progresses slowly, yet not boringly, in the first half and continues with a more intense dramatic plot. It oscillates between the classic script writing motives and the direction patterns, which were developed in the Jarmusch’s “Golden Century” (oh, yeah) that includes all his black&whites: Stranger than Paradise, Dead Man, Coffee and Cigarettes.

His mercurial spirit that simply emerges from the incidents, dynamites the amount of minimalism that dominates each film strip. Many critics for this reason classify the film as a comedy. Oooh, hush, it is something excessively more than just a funny flick. Jarmusch gives a recital of the character delineation, of the illumination on the darker trio bonding. The film with its aesthetics yearns for symbolism, that the spectator is called to interpret each time according to his temperament – my favorite kind of Art!

The photography of Robby Müller - he has worked with Wenders, Trier - is disarmingly magical. It will remind you perhaps of old movies of the 1930s or films noir of the 1950s and '60s. Since the film toys with nuances of black and white, it submits the sense that the pictures conceal truths. Truths the “author” simply doesn’t want to pass to his audience directly. Call me crazy, but in specific phases of the play I felt like seeing shades of green or beige…

John Lurie and Tom Waits embroider the picture with their music ideally. These two outstanding gentlemen of Jazz constitute also the basic cast (girls look, it’s Lurie and Waits!!!) accompanied with Roberto Benigni, who gives his best on building this excellent performance (this is his first appearance outside of Italian cinema). His character takes tragicomic dimensions as he drifts like a Modern Times Chaplin and speaks through his broken English for poetry and love. It’s a sad and beautiful world, he says…

The movie overall breathes lyricism, one of the most essential J.J.’s characteristics. The opening (charming) sequence where a camera strolls in the star-lighted streets of New Orleans “escorted” by Waits’ "Jockey Full of Bourbon" (I’m meeeelting, go get me buckets) can blow your soul away.

Watch it. With red wine… (trust me on this!)

(Published by OviMagazine)

Beauties and the Cinema

2007-06-03T11:22:00.000+03:00

Girl Power and Pink Imbecility

2007-06-02T13:43:00.000+03:00

In my former life as a snail (no, I didn’t have sex with myself, the hermaphrodite reproductive process it’s much more complicated than your stupid joke) I’ve watched women rebel.

In the 19th century - to make it more specific - they formed a concrete, organized movement called feminism, you all know that. They resisted the unfair way their men treated them and demanded reformations in the law. “The legal subordination of one sex to the other is wrong... and... one of the chief hindrances to human improvement.” And that has been demonstrated by our old good chap John Stuart Mill.

Feminist girls, at that time, tried to look equal with men by mimicking their masculine habits. So off with the bras and the leg/armpit razors… Put on your baggy pants and big Groucho cigars! Oh, I forgot: Put on your big Groucho moustaches too. Yeah, my point is that they shouldn’t give up 100% their feminine side and just be ugly, but that’s not of my business. After all, I was a snail back then. It was their prerogative to use their victory against men’s oppression in any way they liked.

Yet I sure am gonna form an opinion on how some women handle these feminism movement conquests today. Not pretty well. I see girls giving up - the so wanted in the past - emancipation. I see them being glad to serve their boyfriends/husbands. I see them spare all of their time next to an oven, away from books and art; try to be sex symbols or sex objects by choosing the proper outfit.

There is this pretty widespread perception that a good looking girl is the one in make up and mini skirts. Female fashion tends to be so significant in women’s life and job or study career has so much less meaning. The only section that these ladies request their equality with men is sex. Ah, we can have sex like men, no strings attached (Haha, too many strings I’d say and God how can you be comfortable in that?)…

In every possible way they try to be sexy and beautiful and not Monroe beautiful or Binoche beautiful, but Britney Spears beautiful and Madonna - not Boticeli’s, but the one with the sharp metal boobs. They find it easier to stay at home or go shopping and care for their face, have their husbands provide for them instead of stay alone, be scientists, care for their brain, make the perfect living for them themselves. Setting yourself there where your sex was centuries ago ain’t the right and easy way to survive. The funny thing is that theseeee gals demand from men to treat them respectfully but the way they chose to live demands the exact opposite male attitude.

I know that I’m getting upset about a particular category of female people. While there are women out there who are successful scientists and wonderful personalities, etc., etc., etc., as King Mongkut would state. Yet here is what the thing is: At this time there is a group (quite wide, keeping getting wider) of girls whose lifestyle asks from men to be discriminators. Are you going to stick me on the wall and yell at me, “There are guys who also look and act as inferiors”? I’m defending myself now. I stick my tongue out to mark you and say: But as far as men are concerned, as stupid as they are or not, educated they don’t provoke girls to be sexist on them. They are just persons who can’t spell but they don’t enhance the statement, “Men are standing on a lower level than women are”.

Something really negative and a bit out of the tag line: Television, mass media generally, maintains with joy these revived stereotypes. In every day commercials, sitcoms, movies there’s multiple chances to watch a blonde woman be nothing more but the girlfriend, the victim, the princess waiting up in her castle. Even when a girl’s got the smarts, she can be that impressionable (little people have that con), so she’ll quit soiling her dress in the garden and sit instead calm on the couch, with some Barbie in her hands, asking her mom about French kissing. Do you think that the green cute aliens who determine politics and society standards have got something to do with that?

Now I do see boys confused on the existence of a certain female “the dick rules” group. How should they react? Once they try to see an equal person on a girl’s face she starts meowing and vice versa: Then they meet some gorgeous girl and ask her if she can wash their pants. The examples conclude that boys’ behavior is characterized by instability, which causes serious conflicts between the sexes.

So… Since I lately walk around as a woman who’s not fond of humidity I truly wanna say please don’t blame the guys for any inconvenience on the feminism matter, it’s all up to you girls. Guys once accepted women as equal and they are willing to do that again. It’s in your delicate little hand sweeties: Be female persons at last!

(Published by OviMagazine)

The amazing Mr. Alfred Eisenstadt

2007-06-01T11:28:00.000+03:00

A great photojournalist of the 20th century...

Keep it fake

2007-05-31T10:30:00.000+03:00

It happens that many times people feel threatened by life even more than death. Because life - the mysterious woman that she is - secrets surprises, while the eternal, distant travel with Captain Death is a given end. Generally speaking, the confrontation of this soul-searching is the designing of a course, which we basically wish our life to follow. This “designing” is based on our dreams, needs and ambitions.

However, some ladies and gentlemen are afraid of future’s uncertainty one bit more and thus they skip the designing process and select an extraneous course of life to base up their tomorrows. Foreseeable, combatable, safe. So they set their models and let the imitation begin: Somebody's own a variety of influences - they may dress like a celebrity, speak like a politician, do the same job as their beloved literary hero.

Others have only one model… domineering their existence.

I give an example so that the conclusion will emerge:

In the female world I observe more Carrie/"Sex and the City"-copycats than…hmmm… Hillary Clintons. Both personalities are successful, beautiful, desirable, dynamic, self-reliant, troubled in the sector of relationships, with a difference to distinguish them: one is fictional, the latter’s real. And I ask myself, “Why’s there a quantitative difference?” You will answer me reasonably, “Because the New Yorker, emancipated, fashionable writer, is a more charming and interesting personality.” Well no… I disagree, this can’t be the difference. I mean Hillary is an aspiring first female planet leader, how cool is that? Cooler than any Samantha's orgasm!

My view? The difference lays in the difference: Fiction-Reality!

Television cultivates personas-caricatures, this is its nature - it would be impossible for it to attribute the totality of life. So it is sex, it is shoes, it is talking about sex and shoes, (simple and countable things, hmm?). The persons I picked for the comparison are symbolic to the syllogism, symbolic for fiction & reality. I don’t want to stick to the characters as much as to analyze the symbolism I use to give you an idea about what I roughly have in my head. Television brings to our attention fake personas daily. Female viewers are deceived that they’ll gain several assets by copying these TV pictures.

Furthermore, they believe that they determine their future that is refined with safety and certainty. Examples of “mass hysteria” would be Jennifer Aniston’s hair style combined with the character’s impulsive selfishness, Donna Reed’s (or Monica’s) fury of house cleaning along with her need of settlement, Carrie’s shoes along with her intimate relationship philosophy… Restless, little minds, hahaha! As it seems people can associate easier with a fake character than a real person. The life of Hillary is shadowed by a huge sex scandal which wasn't even her fault - yet she had to deal with it.

In a TV show however, as "Sex and the City", there’s always the necessity of the caricature element since its purpose is passing concrete, readable messages to the viewers. Therefore we finger count the factors that contribute to the show’s taglines: The thumb is for sex, the index is for New York, the middle one is for relationships, the ring finger for fashion, while the pinkie consists the various situations, which a girl is called to face (such as everyday / profession routine, maternity, health, family, comebacks of the past)… All in all is one hand.

Yet a human body in reality obtains one more hand, a torso, two legs and of course… a head. So tell me, what is easier to copy? Abortions, studies, routine difficulties do not exist to a great extent on the setting; each difficulty will be exceeded in the 30 minute episode and – the all-time classic datum - the protagonists never die. What is greatly significant though is that the success of a television idol springs from his/her physiognomy, which was created by the TV show agency. But the success of an individual springs of their psychic structure, work, public relations, and the concurrence of either fortunate or unfortunate events (all of which depict on his/her physiognomy).

Therefore, what do you think it could be harder, to try and resemble with a successful person or work in order to achieve the top? A good question now would be: “If so, why girls don’t try to look like Hillary?” Because she is real – we’ve already said - hence painful to achieve the exact picture since it’s complex, it is a picture that allocates depth. Who’s digging now man… when you can put on your manolos (that you bought with mummy’s money), create a blog to post your erotic adventures and just fly above the skies.

This article was originally written for my Greek blog, where many fellow bloggers disagreed with my stand. They claimed girls wanna be Carrie because she’s fascinating, plus the fiction factor has nothing to do with it. I tried to support my argument the best I could. Firstly I noted that I’m interested in the copying of a concept and not just for the adopting elements of someone’s personality (like Carrie’s extremeness in outfit choices). For example in order to look alike Carrie you’ll need sex + shoes + a blablablablog. I didn’t quit (not even for a pee break, hahaha) insisting that the difference is related with the fictional/authentic stuff.

Yet still I’m experimenting on the idea: Well… Stefanie Klein is an American blogger and writer, around 35 (I think – didn’t research on this, hehe), she’s got long, curly hair, is fashionable, popular, cute and raw as far as issues of Brazilian bikini or sex are concerned. Her female fanatics however follow processes “lookalikeness” with Carrie Br. and not Stefanie. At this time… Klein is working on launching a TV show with a heroine based on her memoirs. I’m guessing what the results of the experiment will be as soon as the show will air in America. We’ll have a new wave of “wannabe Stefanie "s. You need a “because”?

Ha, because after her personality demonstration the basic elements that compose her PICTURE in general will get crystallized, easy to read and learn by heart. Since the day I published this post I find myself truer and truer everyday. First I found this marvelous, astonishing video on YouTube directed by Andy Huang (I thought it speaks for me in such an arty way) and then I read a Stefanie Klein’s interview, where she said:

"I think I'm a bit of an animated spaz like Elaine (Benis), and I have the same hair and quirky mannerisms. People say I talk like her, the same cadences and facial expressions. As for SJP, it's more like a comparison to her character on "Sex & The City". I'd never have the nerve (or inclination) to wear half the things SJP did on set. I'm of course tired of the comparison.

At a certain point it works against you, always being compared to an old television show. You never knew on "Sex & the City" that any of the girls had family until a family member died. The show didn't address family, the importance of it in critical times. I believe in Straight Up and Dirty, I highlight how important my family was, particularly my father, in getting me through my hardest times, through divorce, abortion, and moving on.

HOWEVER, I recently watched a re-run of "Sex & The City", and it's a great, great show, so I guess I should be flattered. Though people need to remember, what I write is memoir, not FICTION. I write about my life, my sex life, my city life. New York. Austin. I believe whenever a cosmopolitan woman writes honestly about her life, she'll either be compared to 'Carrie Bradshaw' or 'Bridget Jones', both fictional characters. My stories are all real."

Yet, Stefanie, for others it's been easier to feel fictional…

(Published by OviMagazine)

Cyber love is copycat love

2007-05-31T00:06:00.000+03:00

A while ago I got into a long argument at a Greek blog owned by the Greek writer Nikos Dimou. Here is what the debate was about: Dimou published a post about the creation of continuously closer bonds of dependence, friendship and other sentiments between him and his commentators.

I am impressed that so many persons dealing with communication through a screen adopt perceptions of such type. Take a cyber look and note: Which forum, chat or blog doesn’t stream with sentiment?

I am not against communication under any form, so long as the content of the discussion doesn’t involve personal passions and embraces because in that case looks, tender touches and genuine hugs are required. There is serious difference from giving a real kiss to an individual in real time to its equivalence in net which is presented as “xxx”.

Also I am impressed how easily the word “love” is splashed about in cyberspace, while here in real life people - retained or better veritable - weigh out the desire of saying “I love you”. I wrote my opinion at the particular blog but it got mangled. Each and nearly everyone shouted out loud how much caring nests in his/her heart for one commentator or the other.

Admit that no one is truly what he presents to net. How you can believe in the friendship, the affection of someone you never took a dip into his eyes? The philosophy of cyber communication (blogs, forums, chat rooms) is working in general as an occupation, as an escape by daily routine, as a game…but, oh God, the relations of loving are not built through screen…

He sunk into her eyes just to meet his idol. Why hasn’t he been forgiven after his apology? He decided to nail her harder with looks that dribbled. Her eyelids burdened with the pressure that was plied to her by his cruel stillness. She also lowered the head and did not instantly accept his body that leaned to wrap her. At that time the guy saw water flow being lost in her breasts and grins appeared to his eyes.

- Forgiven? He cowardly asked.

- No, said the woman coldly and low-voiced that the man almost guessed her answer.

He left.

I asked Dimou to translate what is written above in a cyber way – he’s a penman after all. Well, he didn’t. Either he couldn’t or I was just ignored.

So I’m turning to myself seeking for questions that answer my worries. Net sentimentalisms constitute some kind of a substitute that fills the lack in their life? It is hardly explained in another way. They don’t find other persons around to kiss them, love them or leave them with cuddliness on the body? If so it seems like they are not enough.

Another version: Persons have the tendency to avoid reality with the compromises, the decency, and the truth with all brass that the word secretes; so they burst out behind the digital mask in merciless sexual intercourses.

In the same blog there is a commentator - his nickname “Jump into Vacuity” - that is accused by the rest of spoiling the romantic mood. His comments are still deleted even when it does not offend anyone but their “aesthetic”. Pity…I mention partly one of his poems (adapted):
All cables.
However in the dawn
Once again you’ll give me away
You smile
Oh! Why are you crying now?
Were you not the one who listened to Jannis Xenakis
I fall on you
Like rain drops
Yet I only touch upon a stirella
And you underneath me
Alone a condom accompanied by inkle
You come on come on
I am a train
Now
We live the Art and Poetry.

He’s a Poet, isn’t he? He sure does seem against net relations too. Yet you just may not want to challenge their “catch-able” feelings. I can’t help but wonder how persons can leave various summer joys and acquaintances in order to xxx with cyber lovers/friends via pc...

(Published by OviMagazine)

Drama Queens

2007-05-30T12:06:00.000+03:00

I reach to the point: The individuals get motivated by the goals that they set on their life-horizon. Too often hypocrisy constitutes one of the legitimate means; a fact which allows them to move maneuvers in the cyber-space plus to achieve the desirable expediencies.

If you are a sufficient hypocrite (meaning: you build satisfactorily the proper, for each circumstance, imaginary moral character) it’s so much easier to walk up the road. The road which can be labeled “have sex”, “find a companion”, “build a career”, “eat a banana”…

You read the “What I want” and “What I ask” written on the face of the person, who you tend to use, and you act verbally, “I am able to provide for you”. Keep someone happy is always the best way to do it.

“I am illiterate and I complain about not learning my language right. I will try to express myself however. I will try to think by all means too. I will also continue writing on paper and in Word and on the walls. You should stick up inside your nose the filter of logic like a tampon." – A blogger

I like the phrase: “You should stick up on your nose the filter of logic like a tampon.”

You can hardly ever find logic persons walking on Earth. And that’s because the adoption of logic is difficult and painful like when you try to place a tampon inside your nostril. If however this is attempted, the mind structure gets in order, the knowledge plus the morals get combined with the experiences. As a result the person is crystallized into a beautiful individual, able to think -first- and act -second.

Now the tricky point: Some-too many-times some-a lot of-people avoid the penetration of the tampon, yet on the other hand envy the prestige that adorns the rationalists of all seasons (bar Medieval Age - if you were fan of rationalism back then you would be adorned with fiery flames). So they weave and put on the persona of the rationalist person, the cerebral individual who can always weigh the amount of sentiment that is proper to be felt. The weaving method is the miming art.

It is not too hard to detect theeese people. It is not also too bad if you got convinced for their authenticity in the past. Here's the secret tip: Abuse of invocation in intellectual authority, no original thoughts. Still you will observe that their interests don’t diverge from the beaten track, the mainstream line that the intellectual populace carved. For an example: “Clockwork orange, wow, masterpiece, meaning beyond any mind borders ". They’ll never say: “Bergman’s Persona, aaaa, rotten rotten tomato", was that actually a movie?

Don't misconceive me though, I like Ingmar…

ps. Pay attention to the Dali painting that depicts my scribblings in the most ideal way!

(Published by OviMagazine)

Fly away

2007-05-29T04:03:00.000+03:00

Steve McCurry

Back and forward

2007-05-28T15:28:00.000+03:00

I’ m asking myself how unbelievable are all these anachronisms that our eye catches all around. I mean, you turn on TV and bam… there’s a love story in action that should have taken tele-place decades before. Who gets touched by interracial relationships NOWDAYS?

Or you are interrupted in the middle of your talk to be told that you are not right according to what religion cries out loud – Jesus Christ Superstar, are u freaking kidding me. I just said I prefer condoms! I don’t kill anybody but my sperm!

What tops it all? Listen to an American in a fancy suit doubt the Darwin theory. Alright then, Adam was a monkey… Is that better? Hahaha!

Oh! Please wonder how many times you have said: “But it is 2006!”

And then you hear about all these marvelous new stuff in technology and science, you just feel proud of your era. Did you know that you can have your coffee made and delivered by a robot? Oh cool, tell me does it deliver muffins, cookies with chocolate bits? Cause… You know, without chocolate bits… I just realize, god I have an addiction!

Or you wear a jacket that sings wonderful melodies of the '90s and dries up by itself whenever it gets wet.

Come on! How many times have you thought: “Yeah! Next year there’re gonna be some flying cars around and I’m gonna get one!”

It’s back and forward, my friend. All time long.

Consideration led me to this conclusion: we are living in a transient century: Elements of the old days and the new are mixed in a giant nonexistent pot together and shape our today.

Yet. It seems like we keep touching the edges. The old and the new edges. Here’s what I mean metaphorically: Imagine a world full of sluts and 30 year old virgins but no women at all.

Get it? No? Literally:

On one hand we do seem to care about brain cells and how they determine human thinking and operations while in the other we find ourselves make discriminations of races or be sexist.

Better? I’ m gonna wake up the Poet in you now:

We look like acrobats on thin lines trying to make our living gain a meaning, so we taste every way, old and new.

M?

Examples based on the two statements above, will make me clear as crystal water. Is that a fish? I think:

We are interested in science discoveries in our lust to find out more about the Truth that gave birth to Life. It’s philosophical actually. Furthermore Science and Knowledge of Her is our weapon against Death and Disease. Who cares? Everybody.

Meanwhile female revolution, widely known as feminism, has filled male souls with insecurity towards the new roles that girls undertake in our days. Sexism could constitute a well built defense, don’t you think. Attack in order to save yourself- it’s the best way out of the mess, man… You’ve got the balls…

Continue as a Poet, I love it:

After lot of bouncing we fall in the gap as the New with the Old fight each other, keeping lighten their eternal struggling for survival.

What will survive the struggle, a little bit changed - who looks the same after a fight huh? - is going to be the base for our future. It’d better be strong and stable so the founding won’t fall into wreckages.

(Published by OviMagazine -shocking news :p, hahahaha)

Thinker in the twilight zone 2

2007-05-28T07:30:00.000+03:00

A person's mind is continuously tortured by the eventual pause of his mental hypostasis. At this point, the faith in after death life puts on its fabulous low-cut gown. The person is relieved the moment he comes around that his existence will never be ceased, that he will always possess his self-conscience.

How gullible.

I don't find a real point in believing passionately in a ghost perception. Nothing proves the continuation of life after we die and that is a fact that all of us take for granted. Hmmm…No not each and everyone, I just remembered my neighbour who claims he has spiritual communication with Napoleon. So here, I come to this point:

Death is absolute therefore tackled with dogma. Consequences: Let's lay by the consumption of precious time and mental energy - the attachment of an individual to a spectral idea makes him more receptive in all kind of convictions, hence also more gullible.

That is to say: If you believe in the eternal spirit why not give prestige in testimonies of people that claim they saw or heard zombies jumping out of the grave or in photographs that portray foggy spirits, etc.

Wanna fight me back? "Who told you that all these people do in fact lie, that these photographs have been Photoshopped? Haven't you been asking for proof?" Oh! I guess then that here also applies same thing with the fairies. You will see fairies butterflying only if you believe in them.

Why should each one of us have an opinion for the after death situation of the human being? I become more conscious, cooler toward hard reality?

Sure, of course, theories like after death life or these of the metempsychosis redeem the persons, who live in difficulties, who are miserable, feeble-souled – they do need some ground to step on and feel safe. For example, some of them suffer from incurable illnesses, so they draw courage from a metaphysical fidelity.

Thus, I include the faith in the after death life in the same category with the faith in religions: Theoretically, we do not need to believe, but a certain human group cannot make differently.

Our life as a film simply: Beginning and end.

In the film after two hours of action come the titles of end that however do not concern in the least the plot of the movie, the characters, the happiness or their infelicity, the result of the story. Therefore, why should they concern us for an entire 80 years?

Do not misunderstand me, I don't reject ghost tales, Halloween, no! I don't want Tim Burton to quit shooting atmospheric films, but yeah ok enough… Now this article's kinda moody, doesn't sound Jane-glish, hmm, whatever!

(Published by OviMagazine)

Thinker in the twilight zone

2007-05-27T11:45:00.000+03:00

I was thinking of an ugly dream I saw the other day and my mind traveled associatively through brain-valleys carrying nothing but a cup of coffee. It stood still in a most curious recollection.

I remembered a story that a friend narrated to me in the courtyard of our school. Lacking the mood for game, we sat in a shady corner and she began to recount to me various tales from her weird collection – very weird, man, and spooky, and my hairs couldn’t just lie down, but were always looking up like they were praying to some God begging for her to stop talking. Anyway. She took an oath (to fall dead and break into a thousand little pieces, if she’s lying) that those were genuine stories. One of them moved me a little in a romantic plus ghoulish-filmed by Tim Burton (in the years of the '80s) - way:

"A young man was resting on the bench of a beautiful park. It was one of those summer evenings that it breaks your heart to stay home. Out of the blue, a girl approached the bench and sat with him. She was as beautiful as the night, cool charms and smelled like evening flowers. She looked merely transparent like the feathers of a butterfly and her eyes sparkled in the dark. The man did not lose time and started a conversation.

After they spoke about all matters that two strangers can discuss, they headed off for a walk in the streets of the quiet city. He, as a gentleman, took off his jacket, unzipped his pants and asked her to kneel there in the middle of the street so that…" Hahahahaha, yeah, ok, sorry, that story will be narrated after midnight (when ghosts raise from the grave). "He, as a gentleman, took off his jacket and hung it around her shoulders. When they reached her front door, he softly kissed her on the lips and the smiling girl entered the house. Without giving him back the jacket otherwise he wouldn’t have an excuse for visiting her house the next day.

So, the next day he was standing there where he left her, ringing the bell and waiting to see if she’d look just as pretty in the daylight. Instead a really old woman opened the door. Three thoughts crossed his mind instantly: 1. Shit, she really looked good under the freaking moonlight, 2. did she mention she’s living with her mother? Arghh, we’ll do it in my house only, 3. Perhaps she’s a maid; my girl is too delicate after all to have physical contact with a mop. Yet the old lady gave him the fourth alternative. She explained to him how the girl died two years ago in a bad car accident.

Tangled, he walked away, moseyed for a couple of hours till he realized his steps had led him to the cemetery. He stood with terror at the entrance and finally entered. In one second his eyes fell on his jacket, which hung on a tombstone. He ran there, pulled his jacket off and saw her name engraved upon the stone."

The end.

Well, now my poetic and flowery side of me is really happy for allowing her to participate in writing an article. But I’ll continue in a more serious (and sexy-what?): Haunted by this fiction story for lots of days, not so much because my little friend digged giving the creeps to a bunch of 10-year-olds, but for the reflection that it placed. The idea of death occupies all brains sooner or later, more or less.

maintains his mind by thinkingSome people, sometimes - as it appears - try to rationalize the fear of death by devising the after death life. The soul that does not die, just deserts the body, “the existence that does not cease to exist” is reported in religions, mythologies, in legends and traditions, fairy tales, etc., etc. The Dead Man, (have you seen the Jim Jarmusch film by the way, dead man, Johnny Depp, Neil Young’s music, a movie-miracle also called classic! Must see…) in any case, (either he’s walking in heavenly gardens, flying in another dimension, or hanging around with us the living) actively. “I think, hence I exist.” Deckard namely stated, “Cogito ergo sum,” in Latin…Yes, I’m demonstrating my fine knowledge…hahaha.

All for the sense of existence! The faith in these perceptions salvages the persons from the soul-burning thought: How it becomes that I am over thinking, speaking to myself, and communicating with my guts for God's sake? Naturally, these concerns - 'phobias' would be a more accurate word - trouble, sometimes to death, all of us. Datum line: the human being is the only-known creature on planet that thinks constantly and feels present, his inner voice having spirited off pretty much-completely (cool word combination “pretty much-completely”) the animal instinct, the way to take decisions and execute them involuntarily.

The force of habitual functions is here, also unbelievably, unpredictably powerful. We fear death because we are used to the presence of our existence. Hmm. Reasonable?

(How much, however, does faith and occupation with the after-death life help us to reconcile with (eventually) Mr. Grim Reaper’s visit and suppress the supreme threat? To be continued…)

(Published by OviMagazine)

Good luck with the 21st century

2007-05-27T04:18:00.000+03:00

Grrrr…

Ok here’s the deal:

The 21st Century really concerns me. I do try my best to raise him properly (oh he’s a boy, yeah – a little gayish, yet a boy). I am sure I’m a good provider (and cuddler may I add). I take him to the best schools ever, where they teach him about the classic era of Socrates and Plato, about the Enlightenment, about the World Wars - you know, learn from his ancestors’ mistakes- I read Dostoyevsky to him before he goes to bed, I let him have sex from the age of 16 and his room is so cool, full of comfort and technology.

Linda Lane www.wonderlane.comNow why the hell is he such a mediocrity, almost below mediocrity? My friend Maugham tells me that, “It is cruel to discover one's mediocrity only when it is too late.” Am I too late? Oh Gosh! The biggest surprise came this morning when he said to me, “Wish me luck for the geography test!” What the… We studied together the day before - I had the maps, the books, I passed to his smarts all of that necessary knowledge for an A grade.

I wonder… what do you need to be lucky for?

It is regarded as a given that the planned in advance future in our mind can be transformed into a completely different reality. Some…many times we don’t even consent to absorb this unexpected nonce. Depression overwhelms us, crying, anger, “Man! Everything was so well planned! What messed things up?” Another case of bad luck… huh?

Hmmm, no! It is not a case of luck. The human nature, our brain is to be blamed for simply not assembling each parameter that potentially determines the future happenings. We can characterize the way our brains operate semi-finished and erroneous (generally speaking – don’t get offended). A few times though, a person accomplishes to forecast the days to come and acts as the case may be. So let’s see here the factor of luck coming in his luxury limo. Any important human weakness needs to be covered, so “luck” fills in our failing effort shoes, cleaning this way our conscious.

In fact, it’s funny. Come to think what has been devised towards perfecting our each imperfection. How much thought, lies, scientific researches, such as so many men deceiving their girl because they declared at some time they were polygamous. Yet the devotion in your relationship is clearly a subject of love. If you are in love you feel completion next to your woman. Right? I mean, I had in mind that we are not discussing the sexual preferences of animals. Where does the correlation lie? Perhaps it’s more decent for the cheater to declare to be an animal, not a polygamous.

Bad behavior has been legalized, which decreased considerably the number of the memes that improves the combinations of genes - “It’s not his fault that he gets easily upset, that’s how his character is!" - Eh! If your head aches, you cut it off! His character, my eye (and I say that like Groucho Marx would!... That is with a cigar in my mouth).

We follow scientific predications, statistics, Korans, credos, only to make our life easier, in better translation we make more errors substantially, which look right ostensibly. And what is important in the end is what it seems to be and not what really is. That is because obviously no one can conceive the truth anymore. No one tries. We never mind like net personas do.

The 21st century is fixed by the permanent rejection of each effort, difficulty, obstacle, labor – whatever it takes to sing Armstrong’s, not the astronaut, song “What a wonderful world” and mean it. Sure man: it is easier to lie than to love, to desert your colors than to gain a medal (consider this as a metaphor of course), to cheat than to study. But in the end you will remain an empty shirt. Cuz what the -ding dong- is an individual without love, knowledge and honor?

(Published by OviMagazine)

Ed Wood review

2007-05-26T12:10:00.000+03:00

«This story's gonna grab people. It's about this guy, he's crazy about this girl, but he likes to wear dresses. Should he tell her? Should he not tell her? He's torn, Georgie. This is drama. »

Oh yes it is. Let’s talk my friends about this classic Ed Wood, which Tim Burton loved, critics also and the audience threw tomatoes at the screen, the few people - I mean - that consisted of an audience for this huge box office failure.

So. In the mid-90s the Edward Scissorhands’ director made a film named after another Edward, the Edward D. Wood Jr. He, Edward D. Wood Jr (what a name!), lived in the '50s and bared on his back the attributes of the actor, screenwriter, director, producer and the peculiar plus cute of the transvestite. He accomplished to combine tiny doses of talent with inextinguishable (cool word) optimism causing the creation of the most weird, hard featured and unforgettable “B” movies. Even though Eddie died in 1978, lost in a deep alcohol-juiced melancholy, his works are considered cult classics and meet hundreds of fans on earth and other planets.

Tim Burton happens to be one of his greatest fans. He expresses his good feelings by fine artistic film making, something which Wood never did. Tim chooses to depict the most innocent era of Ed’s life and cinema career, which reaches its highest peak with the notorious plus sweet (oohhh!), Plan 9 from Outer Space. Quite interesting are the secondagonists (did I just give birth to a word?) around the crappy director, like gothic Vampira (the nails and the boobs, wow) or gay Bunny Breckinridge (Bill Murray, you do gays so funny).

Dominant sense in the movie constitutes the bond that brings young Ed closer with weary drug-addicted Dracula, a relationship that adds drama to the story. Bela Lugosi, alone and bitter, tries to draw strength from Eddie’s burning optimism, while the aspiring film maker sees in the old actor’s eyes the sparkles of past horror glorious (oh, glorious) days. They will help each other regarding their posthumous fame, as Lugosi fed Wood’s ambitious plans and Wood enhanced Bela’s reputation: Lugosi did not only star in the greatest horror films, but also in the worst.

Burton’s movie filmed with excellent black and white photography, which emphasizes the whole Hollywood of the 1950's atmosphere and blended with Tim’s well-studied direction - scenes were shot in Citizen Kane style (Orson Welles was Ed’s role model, weird huh?) - bumps up the aesthetic quality of the film.

This stylish mercurial production captures the poetic absurdity of Wood's films and most of his unconventional life. The film is not historically accurate, containing many anachronisms, which, by the way, I overlooked and you should do too. We do know that good movie biographies are usually the ones that epitomize on the structural coherence of the story. These historic anachronisms are the ones that help Burton to demonstrate Ed Wood’s personality on the whole. After all, the movie stands beautiful for its completeness in meanings. Whether you face Ed Wood as a biographical film or not, it still consists of a gorgeous movie with genuine Burtonic humour and sensitivity, plus such a conscientious direction that holds you by the nose.

I mentioned above “the completeness in meanings”, these meanings agree with the classic Burton motives. The Hero exiled from society’s standard shapes, reflects in the level of dramatic plot the fundamental opposition between a conventional perception of the real world that always dominates in the environmental space and in his sincere innocence.

About the cast now: Each and everyone are lovable, Johnny Depp, Martin Landau, Sarah Jessica Parker, Jeffrey Jones, etc.

Johnny Depp, our shining star, attributes the role of Ed Wood with style and hearty enthusiasm. He has spoken occasionally for the way that shaped the character of goofy author: Thus (who has read Shakespeare?) Depp, as a talented mimic with exceptional synthetic ability used as his models Ronald Reagan, Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, and Casey Kasem (something about that man's voice…). Significant depth in his performance lends the sadness in his eyes - for that is to be blamed on his then unsettled personal life. Time for gossip, yeahh, he had just broken up with Winona Ryder… Sniff!

Martin Landau received an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor on his swell performance as Bela Lugosi. Charismatic Landau composed the persona of the old man junkie with sadness and comical elements, weathering the chance of being grotesque. The Academy also awarded the movie Best Make-Up (transvestites, Dracula, Sarah Jessica Parker, you know).

This is a splendid choice in order to fill your evening: Ed Wood will make you laugh and will puzzle you too. Simply lay down on your couch, embrace a ball of freshly-made popcorn, don’t forget the Coca Cola and push the PLAY button.

(Published by OviMagazine)

Why do we "art"?

2007-05-25T15:07:00.000+03:00

"I know that poetry is indispensable, but to what I could not say."

A French guy by the name of Jean Cocteau wrote poetry but even he wondered why…

It’s true that Art approaches us in each step of our everyday routine. Music and cinema, sculpture and literature, dancing or photography: We create on one hand…and on the other we simply taste the creation.

Here is a first answer for our gentleman Cocteau: We come nearer to the Creator of the World, you know…God, Jesus’ dad, the ol’man with the white long beard, ring any bells? Heehee…yet no, no that could be a child’s thinking process! Oh! I just figured out a second one: The creation that rolls away from our hands in any branch of Art does not substitute human life or nature -as many supports- but idealizes! Now “idealizes” always according to the “criteria” of each artist. For example if he is Pollock, two red drops of colour are enough in order to see love on the canvas.

To speak in essence the person creates what their soul wishes. “Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures”, ah thank you for interfering dear H.W. Beecher; I’d rather though next time you raised your hand first. On a piece of marble or on white paper, the artist’s insides are printed. We could say he’s just building mirrors and then looks in them. He looks the extension of his Ego, the enlargement of his individual field. He feels like he is submerged by superiority, divine nature as it’s been depicted by the narcissism theory, not religion. He becomes his own world’s royal ruler.

I also have two statements to share with you: “Monkeys like bananas.” And “The majority of people are not talented.” We’re called now to find what is common between these two sentences. Well… they’re both true and if you think I am humorless you’re wrong - don’t make me cry now. Since talent doesn’t often flow in veins along with blood we can observe that individuals tend to adopt others’ creations and love them.

As Marcel Proust would say “Only through art can we get outside of ourselves and know another's view of the universe”. After all who’s unable to name their favorite songs or films? I stand a moment on the word “adopt” that I used earlier, and afterwards I’ll say goodnight and sing a lullaby - I’m kidding, don’t freak out. Yes, we do adopt meaning we sign our name on other artists’ creations every time we sing or we watch for the fifth time a play. Someone could easily comment…mmm, that the actual art creators are suns and the rest of the world are moons. In the end we all shine when light imbued us.

Goodnight folks, Brahms play it again boy: “Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight, with lilies o'er spread is baby's wee bed, lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed”… Sometimes I don’t kid, hehehe.

(Published by OviMagazine in January)

Easy take-off

2007-05-25T04:13:00.000+03:00

... or a teeny tiny feeling.

Every now and then I’m seized with an overwhelming urge to write, so I sit before my laptop screen, take a sip of my hot tea, my refreshing juice, my anything, set my fingers in motion and that’s when it hits me: I can’t think of anything to write about.

Five minutes have gone and I still stare at my blank page. All that crosses my mind is “no subject, come up with a subject”, and then I wonder, “Why do I feel like writing when I have nothing to express?” Perhaps then, there is something willing to be expressed, yet it’s so small that I can’t take a good look at it.

When every nascent thought fails to bloom I’m trying to capture a feeling, any feeling I can grasp on it and have a chat with it.

I’m feeling...

... nostalgic.

My eyes are still upon the screen, no music and I am flying away from everything to reconsider me. Only when you reach reductionism - that is to say empty your insides from unnecessary or ugly thoughts, damped in exceeded mentalities - you conquer your calmness. That is in order to see clearly and judge right each subdivision of the world, also included yourself, without biases, dogmatic influences and insubstantial generalizations.

It is difficult, when the child in you is still kicking, the person that you were at the age of 3, 5, or 10. Hence, the adulthood turns out undesirable because for the kid the negotiable reductionism was so much a given as his/her fruit cream breakfast - they know that most of their privileges do not require effort to conquest. Yet as the lad grows up, the conditions get more complicated, the cells of the brain are multiplied together with the number of thoughts – always however disproportionately.

Our head is very small in order to hold a specific amount of syllogisms and there the rationalism comes to save us. In essence, rationalism decreases the volume of thinking, filters, throws away, assembles and compacts thoughts, leaving for us inside strength and value.

As long as I keep looking on the screen, thinking ergo existing, I see that nothing has the right to hurt me, after all the garden still blooms in me, pink roses, white lemon flowers. Day by day I believe more and more in the Socratic Method: What the person needs for their intellectual, not necessarily progress but mainly survival, can be excavated from their bottomless depths of their soul. I try to do this and it really helps in understanding at step 1 myself and step 2 the world...

Heehee, I did find something to say after much hesitation in front of nothing and I’ll end my article in a very intellectual style with a Socrates’ quote:

“By all means marry; if you get a good wife, you'll be happy. If you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher.”

I know it has nothing to do with my sayings yet I laughed and laughed, I am pretty sure you’re laughing and laughing right now!