The Netflix Suggestion Engine gave me some funny recommendations today.  Why did it think I liked Beyonce and Cher, I wondered.  Oh, because of stereotypes.

 The Beyonce Experience: Live
Because you enjoyed:

When the Levees Broke

Clearly these two films are very similar.  Anyone who cares about the most racist miscarriage of justice in contemporary America must also love Bootylicious.

Cher: The Farewell Tour

Because you enjoyed:Showgirls

The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas

Oh, the shame.  I like trashy films and Dolly Parton.  Damn you, Netflix, I do not like Cher.

While looking for something online, I found a torrent of Mormon films.  I have watched three so far and they are really interesting. They are all pretty comedic/romantic because they almost always (so far) center around Utah and getting married.  And all mention how they don’t like swearing.  Frequently there are some references to no caffeine or alcohol.  I think it’s interesting that Mormon movies are pretty much playing into every Mormon stereotype ever.  They also all seem to have a rockin theme song written for them with the title of the movie in it.

I am in the middle of “Church Ball” about the mean streets of Mormon church basketball. An odd topic to be sure, but odder still it stars Andrew Wilson, Clint Howard, Gary Coleman, ad Fred Willard with an eye patch.

What?  How did that happen?  Fred Willard?

Next up is Mobsters and Mormons, starring the former host of Studs, Marc DeCarlo.  I cannot wait to be offended by see it.

My family can’t keep track of my friends.  They make fun of me that I have friends in every city. And a friend mentioned today that I travel a lot.  Except I was sad I was doing so little traveling this year.  Ha.  I take for granted never staying in one place, always having someone in the next port.

And I have been in a relative (to me) slump, and lots of people called, texted, emailed, or came by plane, train, or car to help me out.  Not because I asked, or not necessarily just to see me, but that’s how my friends are.  They’ll take a 4 hour bus trip to see me when I am in a town nearby.  And I will do the same.  And you might not think that’s weird, but I think most people do.  Because a lot of people won’t even pick you up at the airport 15 mins from their house.  And my friends will.  Because they are super, super awesome.

And I am not the easiest person to help.  As my friend Grace said, “You are the most independent person I know.”  I take that as an extreme compliment, but I am realizing it’s also a bad thing.  Or it can be.  My favorite movie is Showgirls, and though people ridicule it (as do I), there’s a scene where the main character (who runs out of every scene rather than deal with anything) is told:

“You got your arms straight out, saying, ‘Back off, motherfucker.’”
“Yeah, you got that down. BACK OFF, MOTHERFUCKER!”

It’s my nature to have my hands straight out yelling, “Back off, motherfucker.” (Hereafter referred to as BOMF). I don’t need your help, why won’t you just let me do it by myself?  It’s a hereditary stubbornness, combined with an upbringing where I could never do anything alone.  I am hardwired to do things for myself, by myself, and I am not comfortable with asking for help or even realizing when people are offering it.  Asking for help feels like conning a mark to me.  But my friends are awesome, because they help anyway.  They self-correct for my BOMFy tendencies.  And that’s good.  I know a few other BOMFy people and I think sometimes we just have to be sat down (literally or metaphorically) by our friends and told to accept help.

So, thanks everyone.  You rule.  Whether you force me to leave the house, listen to my late-night calls, take my ims, offer advice, realize when I am roundaboutly asking for help because you know it’s hard for me to ask directly, or get out of the way when I am yelling, “Back off, motherfucker!” you are helping.  And I am trying to put my hands down and shut up more often.

Everything you need to know you can learn from Showgirls, in my opinion.  In the future, all writing will prove that.

So last night I watched the film Urban Cowboy.  And I can’t think of a film that I have seen in a long time that is so foreign to my understanding of human interaction.  Firstly, why is an Italian-American playing a hick?  I have no idea.  Secondly, the plot could be summarized as a woman breaking up with an abusive husband for an abusive boyfriend.  The end of the story is the abusive husband beating up the abusive boyfriend for abusing his wife?  I am so confused.  This wins her love back.  Really?

Also, the major disagreement of the entire film is that this woman wants to ride a mechanical bull but her husband will not let her.  I mean he is really angry about her mechanical bull riding.  Has anyone in the history of the world ever broken up a marriage over a mechanical bull disagreement?  How was this movie pitched as real-seeming?  And at first he seems angry about it because it might hurt her, but then he is sort of angry because she is good at it?  Is she supposed to seem like kind of a slut for being good at bull riding?

Also, who puts a punching bag in a bar?  That just seems like a recipe for a fight.   The climax of the film is an indoor rodeo with a dance contest.  Instead of joining a mechanical bullriding contest, why didn’t both of them join the dance contest?  Clearly the film shows they are better at dancing than bullriding and they both agree about it.  Also, how do you score a mechanical bull for rodeo?  I am mystified.  If I were from a rural area, I would feel like this movie was my “The Jazz Singer.”

However, any film with a Dolly Parton lookalike contest is not all bad.

Dear Discovery Channel,

I love your programming even though at some times I cannot tell the difference between you and TLC.  I love Dirty Jobs.  I love I Shouldn’t Be Alive.  I love all those shows that say a tsunamiearthquake will kill me and everyone in America next year.  But for the love of all that is holy, I do not care about sharks.  I have never cared about sharks, and, I do not think I will ever care about sharks.  Programming that contains sharks does not INSTANTLY become interesting.  Please explain to me why you think sharks are to adults who love Discovery are to dinosaurs and dorky children.  If you cannot explain the intense appeal you believe sharks have, please cease with being the shark channel.  Or, create a whole OTHER shark channel.  Whatever.
Thanks!
~J

PS  Please don’t do programming about dinosaurs either.

As a person who wears mostly black, hated high school, listens to metal, and shoots guns, I feel my brethren are giving us a bad rap what with all the school shootings. I mean this current guy and I pretty much watch exactly the same movies and love the same books.

So I have a new freelance service. I will come to your high school and hang out. I will turn the metalheads onto metal that happened after 1997 and outside of Germany. I will chat with them about how there is no god, and how jocks suck, and how cool conspiracy theories are. And then I will show them the Anarchist’s Cookbook, and tell them about the old days when we had to go to the library to learn to make a pipe bomb. I will chat about French existentialism. I will also give them some punk rock because oddly, punk rockers never really fuck up the establishment. And then I will snitch. I will tell you, after five minutes which of these kids is your school shooter. Because it is PAINFULLY OBVIOUS. It’s social profiling. I might even be able to read a few blogs and tell you. And then I will also point out the “cool kids” who are totally forcing the metalhead’s hand to blow up the school.

On the grounds that they are both held equally responsible.

It’s good to see the education system in other countries is making kids just as miserable as it is here!

I once told someone I was dating that I was Woody Allen and he was the Annie Hall of our relationship.  He had never seen Annie Hall, but after seeing it disagreed, which, to my mind, only further proves the comparison.

I love Woody Allen, and I always relate to his character in his films, which is bad, since generally he is a nuerotic cheater.  I like to look on the bright side though, and so I think we are also alike in our logical, cultured, bad driving ways.  I love that in every Woody Allen film these things MUST be mentioned:

• Ingmar Bergman
• Woody Allen rationalizing cheating, usually with someone totally inappropriate
• Russian novels
• How bad a driver he is
• How weird WASPy people are and how he doesn’t fit in with them
• His penchant for coming up with outlandish, creative, yet clearly untrue statements when put on the spot.
• Comparing trivial matters to the Holocaust

Basically I align with all of these principles.   I rewatched Manhattan and Manhattan Murder Mystery today (next to each other on the library shelf).  I am not a fan of Woody’s mysteries.  In fact the actual story in most Woody movies makes no sense to me and usually ends with little conclusion.  I usually hate those sorts of movies.  I prefer the whole
talking part.  When Woody and Diane Keaton walk around talking, that part is the part I like.  Although I have to say after MMM I got a little sick of Diane screaming.  She’s the  Woody in that film.  Let Woody be the Woody, Diane!
I think it’s great that Woody is totally fixating on his personal life in films.  I think that’s awesome.  If only laying your bizarre personal problem with monogamy on the table for the world to see would make me millions of dollars.  I hate jazz, pretty much, and I really hate movies About A City (usually NYC or LA).  But yet I still love Woody even though that’s pretty much the point of his entire life.

Woody makes driving poorly cool.  Woody makes talking about your neurotic phobias seem like awesome party conversation.  Woody makes growing up poor with weird ethnic parents seem like being captain of the football team.  Woody makes arguing with your significant other way past the point of reason seem reasonable.  Woody makes cheating on your significant other seem like the natural order of things.  Woody makes combining minor details of Bergman and Camus and Dostoyevsky seem like a cool thing all normal people talk about.  Woody slept with his adopted kid and no one seems to fault him.  Who else can get away with that craziness?  I mean who else on earth could look like Woody and get Frank Sinatra’s ex-wife?

While I didn’t watch Woody Allen films as a child, I am sure Woody Allen is pretty much who I wanted to be when I grew up, but I didn’t know it.  Because on top of all of this, Woody gets laid by numerous hotties who are totally out of his league who love that he drives poorly, is neurotic, can make Kafka jokes, is a funny looking ethnic type, and argues about everything.  Both in film AND in real life.  I think there’s a small contingent of dorky girls who are looking for a Woody type, but honestly, let’s face facts, isn’t it way more awesome to BE THE WOODY.
My new mantra: BE THE WOODY.