tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86144626377917862162024-03-12T21:13:55.396-05:00SUBBACULTCHAJulia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.comBlogger167125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-65413467828774522672010-12-20T00:40:00.001-06:002010-12-20T00:41:11.908-06:00GOODBYE BLOGSPOT...HELLO TUMBLR<div><a href="http://jalekseyeva.tumblr.com/">http://jalekseyeva.tumblr.com/</a></div><div><br /></div><div>I have moved. If not permanently, then semi-permanently!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-83696555008431322562010-10-17T23:07:00.007-05:002010-10-17T23:16:15.118-05:00Daily Dose of Beauty, October Edition<div style="text-align: left;">I'm growing less and less fond of the whole review-everything-you-encounter attitude of the blog, so I might be veering towards more autobiographical and random stuff for a while, at least until I make my transition to tumbler... probably in the next two months or so.</div><div>Until then, some cool stuff:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>1. Apparently this is a coffee shop in Bryant Park called D'Espresso. How cool! Those are very photorealistic tiles, not actual books, but it certainly gives me an idea for future decor.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfG5g45rNNjJjO5finyFLAdcV9ZM6oBW0CueI64qkUA-cZSVmb5kkgd8IKpMHpcnPEJ_qnTlltv8Zg5wv_yVuptkFb9yZI1AcBCToWkiHeLuAbG4hBqZPF_x2Dbpdkf9-5zTNrsfPAAs/s320/tumblr_l9xbmcpZAl1qzpwi0o1_500.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529233432707053410" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>2. Awesome!</div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8YDfjgJ0Od_KJfNKDiqRHnnbm7uFSCkOTxtstXoVm4NKVFZx3lIzk5Yf-z8sskZXtGD7L6XFqAUaAB5imq5e5VNlLtGy5T3MPihi8q6IzM4w8dRjtWXBmOeKtnuSN4tIDotlzGWdqQo8/s320/tumblr_la7aloMyi11qzz4fho1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529233953524215698" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /><div style="text-align: center;"></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>3. Newly-discovered favorite webcomic Hark A Vagrant (gives me great ideas for when I start my own... someday...) My two favorites:</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IVcTH9R0pPENTtAv0OI0Nf_rdzXFYmaty9b5N9F8cwG0ubHOCL5JWTsw_Qy815XmtmBwq1OKPutYbckGGY8h3V0Y98R-QBjLB16rBPESKL-5UUpnNDvTmPoOa65kPvW7iTgr6rtezx8/s320/edwinboothfinal.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529234656845218130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 268px; " /></div></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixEfnwb18GK9gEShEngSG4tSfBV9UI_ZE_sc8OsRA5-z_OUekYbzL1id7-1IHEv8J4J-QY-b3sqf4T9sbzILpVEKfFp52ErL5kA54TW0keSuQwE45Y05G-9yOs68YWpLz4JS3bA-sio8g/s320/shellyfinal.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529234231788040434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px; " /><div style="text-align: left;">Bahahah Byron.</div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-88127956095669616062010-10-04T20:44:00.004-05:002010-10-04T20:47:26.607-05:00My Life v. PhD Comics<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU_zkh7lnybS8gKSmmUiwrugcxEVtO4UcAkd6BmHjoa-ntR51HQM23Xj39WDVGugn7YmjXMrTrNolfeflijUCinmjuhLOMAczet_ii_4HLXIllkZgysspxDIGG7sliFB5-s3Y0gMMG9No/s1600/phd032210s.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU_zkh7lnybS8gKSmmUiwrugcxEVtO4UcAkd6BmHjoa-ntR51HQM23Xj39WDVGugn7YmjXMrTrNolfeflijUCinmjuhLOMAczet_ii_4HLXIllkZgysspxDIGG7sliFB5-s3Y0gMMG9No/s320/phd032210s.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524372306618817490" /></a><br />How, 1.2 months into my graduate career, my life already mimics PhD Comics.Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-77918437794166137472010-10-01T00:29:00.004-05:002010-10-01T00:34:36.733-05:00I MADE A PIE<div style="text-align: left;">Well, my roommate mostly made it. Ok, it was like, 2/5 versus 3/5 effort. But seriously, this was the best pie ever. So pictures are, of course, necessary. Since coming to grad school I've had more time on my hands than expected, so I'm also taking a dance class, biking around, in a film studies workshop, and have time to cook for myself for once. But wow, this Apple Pie.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Hooray fall!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Pre-bake:</div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmEneX3Ice-yrqbxjce8ycqOhonuoplrNDuQLIRz5fFuFsu9veyvUAJefWbJKyxAgVI3X5tUEchYkZGhyphenhyphenn5iGeVnv6cfA3jhk5ZKnCUmWnKFoXIVNtU1pxSc73a8az0II6ErVQaib1ZRs/s320/IMG00295-20100930-2148.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522946140966990210" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Mid-bake:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr1ULD9MDd9NOwuuFgabRPAfsqGa1UhkqFj17C_teRlo1vcciODk6RM258aTQU3QOoP_xRFgtoxun9j7GZ5NdxCxsASfUZjE2fKLA3l0bec7ny1NenqzI4dVYejThPe4L2_EEziv7SJ4U/s320/IMG00298-20100930-2216.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522946513691118418" /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Post-bake:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn40Ao7zk2qI3OiZ3uFF6nEbpBHqzyvAVn6eWwMcwd3R215Bwlmdf5SREWv9BB6nLxnm5EH78YQCstjjEeFx6GC_w_in6d6t-IgTEpXfWbhflPSWv14WLQCEPbGp4QjC3i0Y-wJhSmGwI/s320/IMG00299-20100930-2228.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522946646353881970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Ooooh yeah. It was that good. Served with vanilla ice cream! (Edy's, of course)</div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-41050930283892833862010-09-26T09:18:00.003-05:002010-09-26T16:30:31.748-05:00New favorite Summer/Fall 2010 movie!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.impawards.com/2010/posters/easy_a.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 511px; height: 755px;" src="http://www.impawards.com/2010/posters/easy_a.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">Teen comedies. I love them. So much. Almost as much as a detest rom-coms. But Teen Comedies (and the best of the Apatow posse) usually end up 5-starred on Netflix. Why? It's perfect entertainment. Sharp, witty satire, usually surprisingly good cinematography. <i>Easy A</i> was one of these movies. The top critics almost unanimously loved this movie, while the audience was more hesitant (96% versus 85% on rottentomatoes, last time I checked). Why this slight, but still statistically significant, difference? <i>Easy A</i> was a meta-film, constantly referring to every other teen comedy that inspired director Will Gluck. At one point Olive Pendergast (Emma Stone, definitely one of my favorite teen heroines.) even says, emphatically, "I wish my life were an 80s movie. But I am not John Hughes." Following this statement, and dispersed liberally throughout the film, are very non-discreet references to other 80s movies-- <i>Sixteen Candles</i>, <i>Say Anything</i>, <i>Pretty in Pink</i>, and, especially, <i>Ferris Bueller's Day Off</i>. (I won't add a spoiler describing the brave and incredible way in which Emma Stone gets her own <i>Ferris Bueller</i> moment!)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In fact, <i>Easy A </i>seems like an <i>improvement</i> or every other great teen dramedy. The characters (perhaps excepting Amanda Bynes's bible-freak cheeseball character) are complex, interesting people, in the same way that they are in Apatow films at their best. Except this time, it's a female who has the most interesting personality-- caustic, witty, and nonchalant, with a gruff voice and <i>perfect</i> comic timing. And very realistic-- I have friends like Emma Stone to this day, and I certainly had friends clever enough to be Emma Stone in high school. I'm glad to see teenagers portrayed as self-aware and adultlike, rather than broody, stupid, and schizoid. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">What can I say? Maybe I have bad taste. Maybe I'll secretly always be an angsty 15-year old. Or maybe I just know a pretty great movie when I see it. Watch and see for yourself (especially if you're a John Hughes-o-phile). SO MUCH RECOMMENDED.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">p.s. another reason to see this film: lit references. LOTS OF THEM. Get ready to remember reading <i>The Scarlet Letter</i> senior year of high school, and liking it. Prepare for nostalgia!</div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-81192443399689664692010-09-17T17:47:00.009-05:002010-09-17T18:04:08.422-05:00Daily Dose of Beauty, Rainy Day Edition<div style="text-align: left;">1. Raining in Boston and I'm feeling lazy. Watching <i>this</i> movie on cable. One of my absolute favorites! Now, there are movies you 5-star on Netflix out of sheer guilt, and then there are <i>favorites</i>, and this film is<i> definitely</i> the latter:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div><img src="http://www.bronxbanterblog.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/sweet-smell.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" border="0" alt="" /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Sweet Smell of Success, </i>1957. Best dialogue of any film that I've ever seen.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2. Not sure where this is from; found it randomly inserted in a street style website:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1lwptA-zFnF49ADrrPOCfbEgcIUngfZB4TSjnIHKyZJEqlDmDZ9fgJ9R2sUPBMACO9X9-38X4eCKzmnfZ494otR7whRg0uVDaoPQ4AQdJA8Pwj1BzfYYy5cF5mBN32IWVgcd13Qg2oMA/s320/IMG_6879.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518019711807652050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">3. Sanrio + Doc Marteens collaboration? Yes please! (I want these shoes)</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left; "></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgqdJduhIki8WfV0_r_kiQg39D41U6L4SFJEwNhYQ3ES77dl3y3lL5SFIZ50zCzgjWa2PuucOcDMQQzagHVk4DMdVqBGNpn5_aTIqwHEQ_70TchzXRTblT4qAQ2Ai32fG3bXNR-WNdF4/s320/6a00e5508e95a988330133f2dcd2d3970b-640wi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518020233394903938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px; " /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKkqjlJv9H-YYuEAsL8ayKurhUoKYD2pqYIClSQDVdXi95ismLJTYI0neiS8vSVamRA_6ukkfRn608tSfhtkj4_iwT4tkSsSWIDl1B36O7CaTSkY1EEcfLKQlS6Z4DNNvuO1rLIlmi9k8/s320/6a00e5508e95a98833013486006ada970c-640wi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518020002136898226" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px; " /></div><div>4. I am in love with this-- the idea of vines indoors, framing a doorway. Might do that myself! This is from another street style website. Once again, I forget which. Next time I should write the sources down, it would certainly help with some sort of copyright infringement.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLqJcL4dJMf8fR_xM2u2Vt40vR4hZmKe3bN5YQLcTFsDqhB8gR9y4cKXIu-I8e4cNtzb_TO6HMN5ukHLPihD_O4SXTBCEkh9wK0lFv-shue5o77G1D3LUHOckYdmMnRznOFppZIeSYPI8/s320/4986284218_5e06105e4a_z.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518021657645075026" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div>Also, I'm considering switching to Tumblr because the picture quality and editing process in blogspot is a little wonky. Any suggestions, please let me know.</div><div><br /></div><div>Later days,</div><div><br /></div><div>J</div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-74798738981518275202010-09-12T22:28:00.003-05:002010-09-12T22:53:19.264-05:00Secret Fashion Icon<div style="text-align: left;">Scout, from <i>To Kill a Mockingbird </i>(1962)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.84px; "><br /></span></div><img src="http://www.lonestar.edu/departments/libraries/kingwood-library/Harper_Lee_1961.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.84px; "><img src="http://artcentric.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/scout_and_jem.jpg?w=385&h=313" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 385px; height: 313px;" border="0" alt="" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/images/201007/mockingbird_badham_160.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 133px; height: 166px;" src="http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/images/201007/mockingbird_badham_160.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">-Overalls</div></div><div><div>-Plaid shirt</div><div>-Converse high-tops</div><div>-Short hair</div><div><br /></div><div>No wonder my guy friends say I dress in lesbian-chic!</div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmV8yHJLZEkbQoNiC2Sa8bIIbptOe6I7PrKwHYbxd3pL79g6tMpGxNs5GYEMEv0VYQ7etZrIPYhsKQatMepyisJcLgkXwGzVmMhIbVnfQ3YduGi4Eifz7T81demfmTayxSAoH9HfyaaHo/s320/P7300002.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516240861344959154" /><div><br /></div><div>Regardless, I am UNASHAMED about my love of overalls. Ideally I would like to buy a grown-up, fitted pair (rather than the Osh Kosh B'Gosh ones that are a *male* youth size XXL, bought for $3 from a Chicago thrift store)... but alas, must wait for ideal circumstances (also known as my next paycheck!). </div></div><div><br /></div><div>p.s. Gregory Peck? Preeetty handsome. Mmmhm.</div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-44046367645521759972010-09-05T19:10:00.003-05:002010-09-05T20:05:17.893-05:00Movies We Live With<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.scandigital.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/The-Sound-of-Music-convert-photos-to-digital.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 500px;" src="http://www.scandigital.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/The-Sound-of-Music-convert-photos-to-digital.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I started off detesting my film class, but I've realized that there's no reason silently seething in the second row, refusing to do unnecessary assignments and unconsciously hating all the readings when I do them, when I could instead try to find ways to enjoy it. So I spent the weekend reading Michel de Certeau's <i>The Writing of History</i>, which only gets good in the 8th and 9th chapters, and began to start liking it. And then, just a few minutes ago, upon watching <i>The Sound of Music</i> for, oh, probably the thousandth time, I remembered something Professor Conley said about "living with" films, and how there are<i> films, </i>and <i>films we live with</i>, that we watch tens, hundreds of times, films we've seen often or which have just had a remarkable impression, etc. It made sense to me, and it especially makes sense now, sitting on the couch, watching a movie that never fails to arrest my attention for its full 174 minutes. <div><br /></div><div>So, I present:</div><div><br /></div><div>MOVIES I LIVE WITH</div><div><br /></div><div>*: definitely seen over 10 times</div><div>**: definitely seen over 30 times</div><div><br /></div><div><i>The Sound of Music</i>, 1965**</div><div><i>Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory</i>, 1971</div><div><i>Breathless (A bout de souffle), </i>1960</div><div><i>Contempt</i>, 1963</div><div><i>Grease, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">1978</span></i></div><div><i>Citizen Kane</i>, 1941</div><div><i>The Godfather</i>, 1972</div><div><i>Juno</i>, 2007</div><div><i>Trainspotting</i>, 1996*</div><div><i>Matilda</i>, 1996**</div><div><i>Forrest Gump</i>, 1994**</div><div><i>Hans Christian Andersen</i>, 1952</div><div><i>Gattaca</i>, 1997</div><div><i>Pink Floyd's The Wall</i>, 1982</div><div><i>Fight Club, </i>1999</div><div><i>Hook</i>, 1991*</div><div><i>Tootsie</i>, 1982</div><div><i>Doctor Zhivago</i>, 1965**</div><div><i>Office Space</i>, 1999</div><div><i>Mary Poppins, </i>1964*</div><div><i>The 40-Year Old Virgin</i>, 2005</div><div><i>Amelie, </i>2001**</div><div><i>American Beauty, </i>1999</div><div><i>The Big Lebowski</i>, 1998</div><div><i>My Fair Lady</i>, 1964*</div><div><i>Requiem for a Dream</i>, 2000*</div><div><i>Meet Me in St. Louis, </i>1944**</div><div><i>The Matrix, </i>1999</div><div><i>The Fox and the Hound</i>, 1981**</div><div><i>Donnie Darko, </i>2001**</div><div><i>Monty Python and the Holy Grail</i>, 1975*</div><div><i>Oliver & Company</i>, 1988**</div><div><i>2001: A Space Odyssey</i>, 1968</div><div><i>Moulin Rouge</i>, 2001**</div><div><i>A Clockwork Orange</i>, 1971</div><div><i>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</i>, 2004*</div><div><i>The Parent Trap</i>, 1998**</div><div><i>Edward Scissorhands</i>, 1990</div><div><i>The Lion King</i>, 1994**</div><div><i>The Ten Commandments</i>, 1956</div><div><i>Bring It On</i>, 2000*</div><div><i>Lassie Come Home</i>, 1943*</div><div><i>American Pie</i>, 1999*</div><div><br /></div><div>Make lists of your own! It's great fun. </div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-60093960112361096302010-09-04T11:21:00.004-05:002010-09-04T11:58:36.830-05:00Updates from Grad School<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdreQZNWhzApgDSNcgdDLfTLRtrY0tNeMqfoblIw89QkTexVKO5Ti5yk3f5BoDU0QxHzbOqRkKV5p-19Mzbx9w1JNQGBkmvePtj1RGAz-zX6P5JKvd3zgzMwKmAGn7qcx6AQgwuZGBJOM/s200/Memorial_Hall_(Harvard_University)_-_general_view.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513103327450894066" /><div style="text-align: left;"><----I live next to this building! Gah!</div><br />Friends! A blog post is long overdue. Unfortunately am slightly hungover so any extensive abstract reasoning isn't really in the works right now, but I'm in list-mode right now, so:<div><br /></div><div>-Left my aMAYzing internship at the Art Institute of Chicago to move halfway across the country to Boston. Or, more specifically, Cambridge, Massachusetts, its prettier, cobblestoned cousin.</div><div><br /></div><div>-Moved into floor 2 of a beautiful yellow building on the northeast side of </div><div>Harvard Square, whose first floor is a Bed and Breakfast. Walked 5 miles (to, from, and then again to and from) Target to buy $7 sheets. </div><div><br /></div><div>-Immediately, upon purchasing sheets, took the Chinatown bus to New York to say goodbye to the city, and maybe enjoy it for once?</div><div><br /></div><div>-Enjoyed New York. In fact, probably enjoyed New York more than I've enjoyed it as a resident of New York. Realized homework and stress makes me hate things. Also being 21 helps.</div><div><br /></div><div>-Found myself in New York during rainy 60 degree weather with nothing but a t-shirt. Promptly became ill because of my insistence on not buying a sweater just for the purpose of a few days in New York. </div><div><br /></div><div>-Arrived back in Boston lacking a voice. Regardless, maniacally looked for possible classes to take and revamped by 2-year class schedule over a hundred times (not an exaggeration!!!)</div><div><br /></div><div>-Met some cool people, many interesting friends-of-friends, etc. So far everyone has been incredibly friendly! Bodes well for the next, oh, 7-ish years of my life? If not more? </div><div><br /></div><div>-Orientation! Yes, GSAS orientation, in which the take-home message was "HAVE FUN. Leave your room once in a while," and, "Regardless of what you might think, you DESERVE TO BE HERE. You are BRILLIANT." Eye-roll. I might be lacking in intellectual self-confidence, but I will quite happily take John Harvard's money. Hey, it could be some incredibly wealthy old Bostonian family instead of me (like the ones who have a slightly British rich-peoples accent in old American noir films). Hip hip hooray for social mobility.</div><div><br /></div><div>-Saw a mediocre Rohmer rom-com at the Harvard Film Archive, and was told that Harvard students get in for free to see ANY films at the Archive. Oh good lord, infinite free movies? In a MOVIE THEATRE? That I don't even WORK IN? </div><div><br /></div><div>-Classes! Probable list of courses:</div><div>1. Comparative Literature-Proseminar (w/ Damrosch)</div><div>2. Film and Visual Studies Proseminar- History (w/ Tom Conley)</div><div>3. Elementary Japanese</div><div>4. Literature, Art, and Exile (w/ Svetlana Boym)</div><div><br /></div><div>It has just occurred to me that professors, like many organizations, probably track every time their names are mentioned on the internet every day to see what people are writing about their work, so I'll reserve judgments and trashtalk for later posts and will use pseudonyms. Let it be known that I'm least excited about the film class, for once, and incredibly excited about the others! I'm going to do a Secondary Field in Film and Visual Studies, so the film class is unfortunately necessary. Gosh, it just sounds so unnecessarily pretentious from the first class. It also made me late for Japanese. Points off!</div><div><br /></div><div>-Oh! I forgot. Somewhere in the midst of this orientation/class hullabaloo I managed to build my own desk and bookshelves! Well, assemble is more like it, but it was quite complicated! It had pull-out drawers and a lock and things. I feel like I've birthed a child. Or like a Sim 2 character who read a "mechanical" book and had the little green bar fulfilled, thus learning a valuable life skill, like how to not electrify yourself while plugging things into outlets. I am a successful Sim 2 character! hurrah!</div><div><br /></div><div><div>All for now. Later days!</div><div>-J</div></div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-78980491057143320172010-08-14T02:59:00.002-05:002010-08-14T03:19:58.795-05:00Lollapalooza Day 3By Day 3, I was exhausted. After seeing<i> the Room</i> the night before (of course, days and nights don't end with Lollapalooza! Night 1 I went to my friend Jenny's Hotel Hilton party, and Night 2 was a midnight screening of the campy cult classic <i>The Room</i>), I was pretty beat and began the day at the ripe hour of 3:15 PM, when I finally arrived at Grant Park to wait for Yeasayer to start their 4 PM set. Unfortunately, it seems that the bulk of kids at the front for Yeasayer-- one of my favorite bands of the year--were only there for MGMT, playing a bit later in the afternoon. Although Yeasayer played wonderfully, the crowd was only mildly enthusiastic.<div>Yeayaser: MOST DISAPPOINTING CROWD/MUSIC PAIRING<br /><div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2pAQJbonikdB4OKftElCyK8t-T79pQstrA42-O55JQq9B9KVQaB96nd8GDsXU5IskvDa_cYDDmG3_Fu8z6JppsyAFsLHcl4Xg_ru9QjKMbZdnzBxiX6W5woNywZFD-WyCb9Fo06e6Ek/s1600/IMG00229-20100808-1629.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2pAQJbonikdB4OKftElCyK8t-T79pQstrA42-O55JQq9B9KVQaB96nd8GDsXU5IskvDa_cYDDmG3_Fu8z6JppsyAFsLHcl4Xg_ru9QjKMbZdnzBxiX6W5woNywZFD-WyCb9Fo06e6Ek/s400/IMG00229-20100808-1629.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505172609547179554" /></a>Regardless, Yeasayer played a pretty good show. ESPECIALLY in comparison to MGMT, who, although playing all of their best songs, are permanently BANNED from my music library now (well, not really, but practically banned). Now every time I listen to "Kids" or "It's Working," I think of what is definitely the DOUCHIEST CROWD I have EVER seen, encountered, or heard of at a show. And when I capitalize my letters, you know I mean business. Talk to me about it in person... I have a pretty ridiculous story about telling off an incredibly sexist jerk standing right next to me. Ugh.</div><div>MGMT: DOUCHIEST CROWD EVERRRR</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6j2P4Ongw-kbjW1YCfYgwgKlK8t11NC02dEIJ8X-44V5xXucmbwctN1e4vNjuzV0WZtJD5GL1DqjLniYOhBW81h3C7noZQMt_FDhn1hl5DcyN2fhfmpZ6xZSC-o4WIJGh8ZAbmMpJlI/s1600/IMG00230-20100808-1807.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO6j2P4Ongw-kbjW1YCfYgwgKlK8t11NC02dEIJ8X-44V5xXucmbwctN1e4vNjuzV0WZtJD5GL1DqjLniYOhBW81h3C7noZQMt_FDhn1hl5DcyN2fhfmpZ6xZSC-o4WIJGh8ZAbmMpJlI/s400/IMG00230-20100808-1807.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505172602150909154" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2jj_mJ8TlVRJZDDxLBF7WgLfb-LDQ9eCiACmTnSFyXqi6aB4z63puI5f72swyGe8Ho3_x-DxeYmfQ8nfqWOYAg9tuw52pb-7rozywmMARc-6YzUlGjojzuGYlhPcL7IwJM2IoZ-v4co/s1600/IMG00231-20100808-1807.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2jj_mJ8TlVRJZDDxLBF7WgLfb-LDQ9eCiACmTnSFyXqi6aB4z63puI5f72swyGe8Ho3_x-DxeYmfQ8nfqWOYAg9tuw52pb-7rozywmMARc-6YzUlGjojzuGYlhPcL7IwJM2IoZ-v4co/s400/IMG00231-20100808-1807.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505172600267560626" /></a>After MGMT, I was in a foul mood. The adrenaline rush that I got from yelling at the aforementioned MGMT fanboy, coupled with crowd surfers continuously falling directly onto my head (concussion?), and the bizarrely oven-like overcast weather, was... troubling. It was a balmy 89 degrees, but with the humidity it felt much higher. I felt myself fading in and out of consciousness, and my eyes glazing over and occasionally being unable to focus. Slowly I began to realize that I was getting heat exhaustion. I made my way out of the crowd before "Kids" came on as their second-to-last song. </div><div><br /></div><div>After a half-hour or hour or so of sitting quietly on the grass and shoving food into my mouth (since technically standing up is exercising, and since exercising keeps one from wanting to eat, nobody ever wants to eat at music festivals because their bodies trick them into thinking they don't need it, when really their blood sugar is falling to near-dangerous levels), I felt a tiny bit better and wandered over to the National. I couldn't quite brave walking into the intimidating crowd, so I stayed behind the sidelines. It was then that I realized how much I love the National, and how depressed and angsty their songs make me. I resolved then and there never to see the National live again, regardless of how much I love them.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's too bad I felt ill, because apparently this was actually a great show; the lead signer walked into the crowd at the end, and reappeared to sing the last song! And threw wine all over the audience! Silly heat stroke, or heat exhaustion, or whatever it was.</div><div><br /></div><div>THE NATIONAL: BAND I DIDN'T REALLY SEE VERY WELL BECAUSE I WAS SICK AS A DOG</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlbFCNcSVbF6hgU3lH0dkpeUs_UMZu1mC_M_weRlNPnDl3Qks2n0ss9Z-EiZh940QWCTQoewbjT2yA6C0AbLkZAtyNNdURSR9-ifjap3rwMefhd9D3sIddixfkodDeRRmGBq1NbgOaoE/s1600/IMG00234-20100808-1950.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlbFCNcSVbF6hgU3lH0dkpeUs_UMZu1mC_M_weRlNPnDl3Qks2n0ss9Z-EiZh940QWCTQoewbjT2yA6C0AbLkZAtyNNdURSR9-ifjap3rwMefhd9D3sIddixfkodDeRRmGBq1NbgOaoE/s400/IMG00234-20100808-1950.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505172593522121826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyW7og4jLjybz1f_L2xOrKYjujeJjjihklHPqQ1bIPh1kdZsyz_-IJ6M0NNU1fzWsH5_ZICnB6r_MnguEeZRGhL4dCWzIsgeVq0bXN4HLy-YV3_V_XCDh8-JEvubTg9ke2MUhOsBVoZm0/s1600/IMG00236-20100808-1951.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyW7og4jLjybz1f_L2xOrKYjujeJjjihklHPqQ1bIPh1kdZsyz_-IJ6M0NNU1fzWsH5_ZICnB6r_MnguEeZRGhL4dCWzIsgeVq0bXN4HLy-YV3_V_XCDh8-JEvubTg9ke2MUhOsBVoZm0/s400/IMG00236-20100808-1951.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505172584165987346" /></a><br /></div></div></div><div>Unfortunately I couldn't get a good enough picture of the headliner of Day 3- Arcade Fire. By that point, I had mostly recovered my senses, but I was still relatively exhausted. Had I been at full capacity I might have wormed my way to the nearish front, but decided to stay closer to the middle. It surprised me how many people love the Arcade Fire, and all types of people-- bros, hipsters, old men, old women... but especially bros. Not that there's anything wrong with bros. </div><div><br /></div><div>Arcade Fire began the set with my favorite song off the new album, the Suburbs (#1 album in America, weirdly enough!), entitled "Ready to Start" (how appropriate!) and then went into my favorite Arcade Fire song EVER-- "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)". They played every great song that they had, and of COURSE ended the set with "Wake Up," the song from the album Funeral which was used in the <i>Where the Wild Things Are</i> trailer, which probably got them unprecedented popularity. </div><div><br /></div><div>ARCADE FIRE: MOST WELL-TIMED SETLIST</div><div>--</div><div>Lolla ended with the crowd ambling out of the park at 10 PM, singing the chorus to "Wake Up" on Columbus Drive, Monroe Street, and Michigan Avenue... a fitting ending to a jam-packed, ridiculously dirty, smelly, painful, but exhilarating Lollapalooza.</div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-1937627602920035012010-08-14T02:37:00.006-05:002010-08-14T03:23:56.817-05:00Lollapalooza Day 2You'll notice that with each day, my number of pictures decreases. This is mostly due to tiredness and consequential lack of interest in picture-taking. Sometimes, though, the crowd was simply too CRAZY to bother to take a good picture! (This is, by the way, always a good sign. Nothing screams "boredom" like endless concert photography)<div><br /></div><div>Saturday, surprisingly, ended up being my favorite day by far. If looking at the schedule alone, I would never think to buy a one-day pass for Saturday. But the weather, the fans, the shows, the friends... it was one of the most perfect days! Awesome.</div><div><br /></div><div>First up, GOGOL BORDELLO, probably my favorite band EVER. They stand for everything I find interesting and true and I believe in their message wholeheartedly (great interview with Eugene Hutz, lead singer/guitarist, <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wnet/need-to-know/culture/eugene-hutz-immigrant-punk/2812/">here</a>)!</div><div><br /></div><div>Gogol Bordello: MOST FUN SHOW, AS ALWAYS</div><div><br /></div><div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmqmQxP7Ki7Jh7Gz0skRYMst3sw9545BVNb_L513dPvPzJ7XbyK9K5PONRGZVtWYIXVWF4VERA1CEq-5Fz7IiTanT4MgGy60uOEXg1kq-L95z4N1hcmqYY6mcBaOWk8ZwPi7vXA0ABMc/s1600/IMG00206-20100807-1543.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmqmQxP7Ki7Jh7Gz0skRYMst3sw9545BVNb_L513dPvPzJ7XbyK9K5PONRGZVtWYIXVWF4VERA1CEq-5Fz7IiTanT4MgGy60uOEXg1kq-L95z4N1hcmqYY6mcBaOWk8ZwPi7vXA0ABMc/s400/IMG00206-20100807-1543.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505168050250896706" /></a>Then Metric, now my SECOND favorite band! Well, ok, maybe THIRD, behind the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, who, now that I think about it, probably tie with Gogol Bordello. But Emily Haines, the lead singer, has almost as much rock star quality as Karen O. They're a little more pop punk and a little less punk than the YYYS... a little sweeter, a little quieter at times, but fantastic. They also played every song I loved by them (including <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEsr5Mm3JfE&feature=av2e">Dead Disco</a>, my absolute favorite), and Haines, aside from being gorgeous, was very charismatic on stage! The crowd was also pretty much perfect. A wonderful show.</div><div>METRIC: BEST SETLIST OF THE BUNCH<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Fm2Z2IGNA9AJvEdc2LYhypExZqq1yQAKPQZbGQXmPQ0odp8wFfMFAqa86AAavyL_IB5NgRcFt7k_s4GmS-CElrNNk9VsSzr9Mza6O01HsEZ8jGQRN0bQCAWVwm2WuoLf23cC_QNmcQY/s1600/IMG00209-20100807-1801.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Fm2Z2IGNA9AJvEdc2LYhypExZqq1yQAKPQZbGQXmPQ0odp8wFfMFAqa86AAavyL_IB5NgRcFt7k_s4GmS-CElrNNk9VsSzr9Mza6O01HsEZ8jGQRN0bQCAWVwm2WuoLf23cC_QNmcQY/s400/IMG00209-20100807-1801.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505168035257141058" /></a>Spoon, however... ehh. I'm not sure. They're a little above my head. I feel the same way about them that I do about My Morning Jacket... good, occasionally catchy music, but I can't fall head over heels in love with them the way I do with bands such as Metric. Maybe they're a little more subdued than I'm used to? </div><div>SPOON: MOST UNMEMORABLE SET</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF8PKs3H2ERpUudDVzsQFO20u_G9WU9gm2gtti-M7g1Tbo1oxGCIMhwrPUJUgUoylz9Ikrhz3pCwRmjxHTrhKvTnB_lpSB3c7hPgAUdvgB_Qq1iEBshiFt8kjccwf8ux-LOf5XXUcQWMM/s1600/IMG00210-20100807-1822.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF8PKs3H2ERpUudDVzsQFO20u_G9WU9gm2gtti-M7g1Tbo1oxGCIMhwrPUJUgUoylz9Ikrhz3pCwRmjxHTrhKvTnB_lpSB3c7hPgAUdvgB_Qq1iEBshiFt8kjccwf8ux-LOf5XXUcQWMM/s400/IMG00210-20100807-1822.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505167545330884242" /></a><br /></div><div>Green Day was the headliner. I was surprised to find that I knew about 90% of the songs they played, and the chorus of almost every one of those songs!! It's strange how much we remember from high school. An incredibly fun show, even though by this point my friend Ben and I were so excited that we drifted around in the back, sitting and stretching on occasion. Hey, standing up for 11 hours in a row is hard!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7bQSzlLCT-7Gz4JXMnaJ9STkeLWLO1tx8Oab4tasuta4ZXAaXHN9_TdIJVk2mCTJlhjgDrKngINs0vx80jda6hVbEBb-DhKTur_BVP4QABLp49eHXJzNUn28kYjcAoTJimj45K7wf2Fs/s1600/IMG00213-20100807-1954.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7bQSzlLCT-7Gz4JXMnaJ9STkeLWLO1tx8Oab4tasuta4ZXAaXHN9_TdIJVk2mCTJlhjgDrKngINs0vx80jda6hVbEBb-DhKTur_BVP4QABLp49eHXJzNUn28kYjcAoTJimj45K7wf2Fs/s400/IMG00213-20100807-1954.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505167122117007954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzFkWFqY2AubxypxwiHHaJ5CnqKm9gkg3Ww_r1jHBDAeMl_V1Kjtggj2l8Wf3bYgm3t08qM8kw-Uvyp3q7bfNDDmdHyYWEE9Td6bFhnuqkam_82Xf5I90UQ2K4R-kJoHFV2yr2va2vyw/s1600/IMG00215-20100807-2017.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzFkWFqY2AubxypxwiHHaJ5CnqKm9gkg3Ww_r1jHBDAeMl_V1Kjtggj2l8Wf3bYgm3t08qM8kw-Uvyp3q7bfNDDmdHyYWEE9Td6bFhnuqkam_82Xf5I90UQ2K4R-kJoHFV2yr2va2vyw/s400/IMG00215-20100807-2017.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505167111696123202" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhipuYyjOtwKQtGCvvfOr89eOn34-_4J7IRT5jHewH-iddc865YKeo24F1V2tTThq50_vOQPFZcdwj9Lr3s_jXqWoXDbbp1E2LY123iH9IYQZ3yHbBzC2X5kDMnevtEgTjMyoFmvb16Aqk/s1600/IMG00217-20100807-2017.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhipuYyjOtwKQtGCvvfOr89eOn34-_4J7IRT5jHewH-iddc865YKeo24F1V2tTThq50_vOQPFZcdwj9Lr3s_jXqWoXDbbp1E2LY123iH9IYQZ3yHbBzC2X5kDMnevtEgTjMyoFmvb16Aqk/s400/IMG00217-20100807-2017.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505167106855833810" /></a><br /></div><div>A view of the pretty ridiculous(ly awesome) set, which included a faux skyline, televisions, and crazy amounts of pyrotechnics, including fireworks... and these, intentionally! They also did a great medley which included the "I Can't Get No (Satisfaction)", "Shout!", and "Hey Jude," my favorite part of the evening. They played all the way up until 10:15, and therefore had to probably pay tons of Chicago fees since all of the artists are supposed to end at 10 PM sharp. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ8tUzuEKnGMZuGaJdNANKGn6AJLXScZlIAvZD3CFZ9zcjsJ8LJ5aY0tz75tglI6VNXhE7FmEXA_P7aLfpTvaWcmqZRGWhyphenhyphentYorvOutwt4geb0KqG4FVD6lBu0Nb0rAq_ShmVHMZ0pmLU/s1600/IMG00219-20100807-2029.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ8tUzuEKnGMZuGaJdNANKGn6AJLXScZlIAvZD3CFZ9zcjsJ8LJ5aY0tz75tglI6VNXhE7FmEXA_P7aLfpTvaWcmqZRGWhyphenhyphentYorvOutwt4geb0KqG4FVD6lBu0Nb0rAq_ShmVHMZ0pmLU/s400/IMG00219-20100807-2029.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505167100555586482" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyFr_MxVBnBW1boa1M2YpVgQONa2-8dzO8z_LFEX8wImgWkGpxYJljb8bf97jFFDJnICY3nuW78ubpAWwKVxmTOucGhvuQwT2KooBN0hu4sxGCaUwfEoinG9ePuJvK2LgNAWlY7NTmD3g/s1600/IMG00220-20100807-2030.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyFr_MxVBnBW1boa1M2YpVgQONa2-8dzO8z_LFEX8wImgWkGpxYJljb8bf97jFFDJnICY3nuW78ubpAWwKVxmTOucGhvuQwT2KooBN0hu4sxGCaUwfEoinG9ePuJvK2LgNAWlY7NTmD3g/s400/IMG00220-20100807-2030.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505167091081839378" /></a><br /></div></div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-23005042082407982962010-08-14T02:18:00.014-05:002010-08-14T02:37:23.918-05:00Lollapalooza Day 1All photos taken from my Blackberry... forgive the quality!<div><br /></div><div>Day one began bright and early, a little after noon, to catch the last bit of Balkan Beat Box. Balkan Beat Box: Most Fun Early Set, Even Without Knowing the Songs Beforehand</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOIfvgAKgEETA6rLva3p2JmZHMUEOtMdGHmeHDp3jZYOs7IDXSdf7WF5Iuka-iNFzK9O9DxzvIKabmOKgChVSeUpKqn5JIyjS-e02zlVTz9ngVSdtiuqjmIIHvubxit5_XVDICI8MECc/s1600/IMG00119-20100806-1300.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYOIfvgAKgEETA6rLva3p2JmZHMUEOtMdGHmeHDp3jZYOs7IDXSdf7WF5Iuka-iNFzK9O9DxzvIKabmOKgChVSeUpKqn5JIyjS-e02zlVTz9ngVSdtiuqjmIIHvubxit5_XVDICI8MECc/s400/IMG00119-20100806-1300.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505163597466733010" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOV6_ncC47aGOBuUl7sk-t7d0x-cDsx8AB7U3Lzi1kuINq6hl3xdUS__v0s4_tjumsnzyamwYMFzkBZZ3vlvyaqIDcm2c4k93-nmyEtbR3SD_FrQcVPq0Ans_5c_F85EbFE0rjprtu3gg/s1600/IMG00120-20100806-1609.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOV6_ncC47aGOBuUl7sk-t7d0x-cDsx8AB7U3Lzi1kuINq6hl3xdUS__v0s4_tjumsnzyamwYMFzkBZZ3vlvyaqIDcm2c4k93-nmyEtbR3SD_FrQcVPq0Ans_5c_F85EbFE0rjprtu3gg/s400/IMG00120-20100806-1609.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505163581733458242" /></a><br /></div><div>Then, in the afternoon, Semi Precious Weapons, a "garage glam" band that were INCREDIBLE, and who open for Lady Gaga when she tours. She even had a surprise appearance during the show, singing part of one of the songs and rocking out behind the stage! I couldn't catch her, unfortunately, over the tirade of cameras.</div><div>Semi Precious Weapons: Most Awesome Newly Discovered Band at Lollapalooza </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChxVkK-qGac0QyGbMOqLyCSdo3aPrK1CIP_MQoYE32wDMWl2NyPLDqWEDYL3QfBbTily2aqBMcKuANQBPsGgkbA4G4jrkFFj0lJSjxH_dIeDzi6Hi2f0CMuWGa6PQQcKVV4aXA50FULE/s1600/IMG00121-20100806-1616.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChxVkK-qGac0QyGbMOqLyCSdo3aPrK1CIP_MQoYE32wDMWl2NyPLDqWEDYL3QfBbTily2aqBMcKuANQBPsGgkbA4G4jrkFFj0lJSjxH_dIeDzi6Hi2f0CMuWGa6PQQcKVV4aXA50FULE/s400/IMG00121-20100806-1616.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505163573871852114" /></a>Then, the Dirty Projectors: Most Disappointing Live Act at Lollapalooza.</div><div>The Projectors are more like music for musicians rather than music for the mainstream. I had an odd feeling that my ears were not sensitive enough for the Projectors, even though I loved Bitte Orca...</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3hOPbd_a8mvmB8UAbkjd6veNP3EVp_Firns3bjFYBzkU4o4agG7dfIpeoWXmm2kok2HL73Zyq2iZcAKVYJkGZe3pqnMMDt4yRpVopb9mWC8xSf_xc0lzTaosoaHuloXgGBCq_08wsQDM/s1600/IMG00134-20100806-1706.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3hOPbd_a8mvmB8UAbkjd6veNP3EVp_Firns3bjFYBzkU4o4agG7dfIpeoWXmm2kok2HL73Zyq2iZcAKVYJkGZe3pqnMMDt4yRpVopb9mWC8xSf_xc0lzTaosoaHuloXgGBCq_08wsQDM/s400/IMG00134-20100806-1706.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505163293108201666" /></a>And of course, the Black Keys: Most Reliably Good Act</div><div>Oh man did I love their rendition of "Tighten Up" live. That song is pure sex. My friend Kirsten called the Black Keys "stripper music" once and I totally agree.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCIx3DCujfYunAis6X_OenhUf5F60WyEc_B9eNTppiwWUlJ9DXopDeVgDSEWWHw3_dEQ6COiE45s-6jZ9xABYH29_xISbSfwsgbxU1dH8VCXiqpLR0CMP2TU7fa15Fzxii8_K7Ffe5ak/s1600/IMG00138-20100806-1847.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCIx3DCujfYunAis6X_OenhUf5F60WyEc_B9eNTppiwWUlJ9DXopDeVgDSEWWHw3_dEQ6COiE45s-6jZ9xABYH29_xISbSfwsgbxU1dH8VCXiqpLR0CMP2TU7fa15Fzxii8_K7Ffe5ak/s400/IMG00138-20100806-1847.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505163103818283682" /></a><br /></div><div>Closeup of Dan Auerbach:</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRV9QbZmH4eVHwUorLF7Sxc0J9eKucJmmbSAFkN9MbicKZBfi8J7r4Gj27P4Xrm3NI-UmKsrjfBWx-4rmWr8dHfOIkz8LL7CgvBxmRiMcSmSb0yAijI3P87Cxw2zFuT1eusaPrISe03c/s1600/IMG00139-20100806-1849.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRV9QbZmH4eVHwUorLF7Sxc0J9eKucJmmbSAFkN9MbicKZBfi8J7r4Gj27P4Xrm3NI-UmKsrjfBWx-4rmWr8dHfOIkz8LL7CgvBxmRiMcSmSb0yAijI3P87Cxw2zFuT1eusaPrISe03c/s400/IMG00139-20100806-1849.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505162983319488546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-OTTsXR0DyB6gfBbnX4CSSmDC1VZ6_Q14UJWVMnHXYMoQYVXCOisH8Fgqk0i5lpL3w9TYCAuRDlgv1deP5PjQCatrzI_7KXdnVi1xkwTzDXab4XI2NyDacXVaIFG0_MJzShsVu8GFO14/s1600/IMG00141-20100806-1931.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-OTTsXR0DyB6gfBbnX4CSSmDC1VZ6_Q14UJWVMnHXYMoQYVXCOisH8Fgqk0i5lpL3w9TYCAuRDlgv1deP5PjQCatrzI_7KXdnVi1xkwTzDXab4XI2NyDacXVaIFG0_MJzShsVu8GFO14/s400/IMG00141-20100806-1931.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505162867251468082" /></a><br /></div><div>And, of course, Lady Gaga!</div><div>Lady Gaga: Most Awesome Over-the-Top Spectacle of Madness</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh17_BZ8XpWIvjbhiNmZvOxpyCOQB87kQc6gPHF6iZQkN3g-8CQI0LrkJw-ZZQe6MlxBcDEYTHWlzzpqHnWPE_J4FcHdHxZNCnuGlaaiqD_AZqFlI9O3L7hs5cm-cDaJrB0a9u1Y1SMRKk/s1600/IMG00151-20100806-2007.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh17_BZ8XpWIvjbhiNmZvOxpyCOQB87kQc6gPHF6iZQkN3g-8CQI0LrkJw-ZZQe6MlxBcDEYTHWlzzpqHnWPE_J4FcHdHxZNCnuGlaaiqD_AZqFlI9O3L7hs5cm-cDaJrB0a9u1Y1SMRKk/s320/IMG00151-20100806-2007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505162745432149378" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzdqsdJm6svSIgcFyrN6Bpxqbzgq895CLEcWpHMXojzowCStPVqHdFsip-KLtGTnxH3TO_Tqf4TYXhjkl4Eu6alM2wBudVMrRjNJC2uV8WIaPMd12hvroPRLR1KuLxe4LkYX8GK_EdBlE/s1600/IMG00158-20100806-2012.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzdqsdJm6svSIgcFyrN6Bpxqbzgq895CLEcWpHMXojzowCStPVqHdFsip-KLtGTnxH3TO_Tqf4TYXhjkl4Eu6alM2wBudVMrRjNJC2uV8WIaPMd12hvroPRLR1KuLxe4LkYX8GK_EdBlE/s400/IMG00158-20100806-2012.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505162587364884946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfusyMZrGvufupZhfXJn3qJJUL-l9WzRqUXK2VQe4wZBNQ-LKvdJLH9wxtcLsLtw-ho7sCtfuwZVHl0kRX5pq4NvLL36uEqMRzXAowN2VWBMyViyZZ0dKdt9eJxbhTjKFSlqGzGg3nKQ/s1600/IMG00161-20100806-2015.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfusyMZrGvufupZhfXJn3qJJUL-l9WzRqUXK2VQe4wZBNQ-LKvdJLH9wxtcLsLtw-ho7sCtfuwZVHl0kRX5pq4NvLL36uEqMRzXAowN2VWBMyViyZZ0dKdt9eJxbhTjKFSlqGzGg3nKQ/s400/IMG00161-20100806-2015.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505162452182672290" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIkPEIYu58ZSBls69P8NmRoKEa-Zp2gTU2b72uHs65i9q_AFz5m7a4NsgkZZeSIJ9ULJDv9bOsGYx19Otmn_-d0ZTwKD5GZ4SYBw1Tj3euSLuoJ8T640_C57BHL38ukTMl1Fp7cAZ-e_c/s1600/IMG00162-20100806-2019.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIkPEIYu58ZSBls69P8NmRoKEa-Zp2gTU2b72uHs65i9q_AFz5m7a4NsgkZZeSIJ9ULJDv9bOsGYx19Otmn_-d0ZTwKD5GZ4SYBw1Tj3euSLuoJ8T640_C57BHL38ukTMl1Fp7cAZ-e_c/s400/IMG00162-20100806-2019.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505162276639397458" /></a>"Scream for me, little monsters!"</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia8eN-se3kho8gPnCworwmlbRM2aoKRD-JrV5fnpOrdkuFe-RqnxVwl3-VHhDecaAsBDuz5vATwrmHeGsv18WSBFsqhnAdRX6SO3aHDuNHczZUk-GsSuWbuDKcqp-QR4BDGVaq2N2CoaA/s1600/IMG00166-20100806-2020.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia8eN-se3kho8gPnCworwmlbRM2aoKRD-JrV5fnpOrdkuFe-RqnxVwl3-VHhDecaAsBDuz5vATwrmHeGsv18WSBFsqhnAdRX6SO3aHDuNHczZUk-GsSuWbuDKcqp-QR4BDGVaq2N2CoaA/s400/IMG00166-20100806-2020.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505162129803759842" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLVG9bLNNxgi0XC5UygEubDS3OMBi28Q5SnMsH5OaGyiOS3J5QxHKTXzOZ59HKEZqO8vhZambTREmzozdgUVn1VX-G-MB__38a7IrtH0ozp_OyW9wIjbvj13icSEtu3ARrqqJp-_H5U00/s1600/IMG00178-20100806-2044.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLVG9bLNNxgi0XC5UygEubDS3OMBi28Q5SnMsH5OaGyiOS3J5QxHKTXzOZ59HKEZqO8vhZambTREmzozdgUVn1VX-G-MB__38a7IrtH0ozp_OyW9wIjbvj13icSEtu3ARrqqJp-_H5U00/s400/IMG00178-20100806-2044.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505162031828768354" /></a><br /></div><div>Halfway through the show fireworks spontaneously started going off behind the stage. I assume it's coincidental, but it sure looked pretty cool!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ48k6GyUDmoV5uaD2RPMxFjR8pJxXC7o5RIMj-OPdGDm3-wWE0XMbQevg9_JKva0_LrZxkgeq5VtbuTB0sFK3swD1Cym8mg9g5hQaO7lZxTmIdbw-ubVfnRpNjuffmxbGIJSZN_e2y98/s1600/IMG00183-20100806-2113.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ48k6GyUDmoV5uaD2RPMxFjR8pJxXC7o5RIMj-OPdGDm3-wWE0XMbQevg9_JKva0_LrZxkgeq5VtbuTB0sFK3swD1Cym8mg9g5hQaO7lZxTmIdbw-ubVfnRpNjuffmxbGIJSZN_e2y98/s400/IMG00183-20100806-2113.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505161936780061458" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7J6OHPgbNFhR6i4Afb-vvRy91jCEWX1BIbVKsCiXht404MhbWvJL11XnWMRfZxeBEb3Qwl4K0lfmqb4SMBOrIoemsHMXR5PdexdGoiqKDjwNv5xgWT2xA_8xk6kgh3omZ83nxcvBtWXI/s1600/IMG00198-20100806-2153.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7J6OHPgbNFhR6i4Afb-vvRy91jCEWX1BIbVKsCiXht404MhbWvJL11XnWMRfZxeBEb3Qwl4K0lfmqb4SMBOrIoemsHMXR5PdexdGoiqKDjwNv5xgWT2xA_8xk6kgh3omZ83nxcvBtWXI/s400/IMG00198-20100806-2153.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505161842051048050" /></a>Overall Gaga was a great show. I can certainly understand why someone would pay more than half the price of a Lollapalooza ticket to see her... about 10 costume changes and plenty of ridiculousity, including an appearance with Lady Starlight in which both of them danced to a Metallica song and lit hairspray on fire. That was my favorite moment... it showed a Gaga before Gaga, when she was starting out as a music fanatic trying to make it in the industry. </div><div><br /></div><div>Lady Gaga's appearance at Lolla also had added significance... she played here in 2007, back when she was a brunette, at one of the smallest stages, and left the audience stupefied. Literally, stupefied. No clapping, no enthusiasm. Just... awe, at this completely weird chick in a disco bra singing strangely catchy pop songs. And to be one of the most popular headliners at one of the most popular festivals in the country... well, that's pretty awesome. Go Gaga. </div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-54281092639727613112010-08-12T15:19:00.004-05:002010-08-12T15:30:25.590-05:00Artists! Poets! Craftsmen!Spent the morning translating an incredibly cool Soviet TASS newsreel circa early 1942-ish (we're not quite sure of the date) for the AIC. GREAT fun! It's more difficult than you'd imagine, since the text isn't written, and therefore you're kind of screwed if you don't know how to spell a certain word. Regardless, here's the result, which I'm pretty proud of, and am mostly putting it up here for record purposes so I don't have to keep sending myself emails that I never open. Also, Lollapalooza pictures and details coming soon!
<br />
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHyXcu-sUrBE203-UUOeRiO45W4J6zEDrr5xMZTC4yq89W3nb-ZKhwkwnjfQMq1fCLSVUyH1hJg2C4WuN_r9Y7dG53EJFMCV_Bbeo_vhGZCipkYHimYtnLyW-7eVcasENX2bqa3UcNEYc/s1600/TASS+686.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHyXcu-sUrBE203-UUOeRiO45W4J6zEDrr5xMZTC4yq89W3nb-ZKhwkwnjfQMq1fCLSVUyH1hJg2C4WuN_r9Y7dG53EJFMCV_Bbeo_vhGZCipkYHimYtnLyW-7eVcasENX2bqa3UcNEYc/s320/TASS+686.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504623090162896162" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/intern2/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip1/01/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>359</o:Words> <o:characters>2050</o:Characters> <o:lines>17</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>4</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>2517</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>11.1280</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotshowrevisions/> <w:donotprintrevisions/> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Times New Roman"; panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-parent:""; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Newsreel Translation</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Key: Bolded words are written out on the screen; all other words are spoken.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">0:00-0:03 “<b>Artists of the Capital City-Red Army</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">.” </span><b>Cinematographer: B. Makaseiev</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">*</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*last letter is cut off, says “Makaseie” on screen but probably should be “Makaseiev” since Boris Makaseiev was a famous documentary cinematographer at that time</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">0:07-0:12 The Studio of Moscow Artists prepares new TASS Windows</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">0:20-0:25 The artist Sokolov-Skalia creates a poster about the two Battles of Borodino</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">0:37-0:44 The subject of artist Aivazian’s poster is the victory in Moscow’s surrounding area</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">0:55-1:02 The artists will take their new work to the Front as a present to Red Army soldiers</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">1:03-1:09:<span style=""> <span lang="RU"><b>Smashing satire – on the enemy!</b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style=""><span lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">1:10-1:21 Following the example of Poet Vladimir Mayakovsky's infamous ROSTA Windows, the Moscow poets and artists of the Great Patriotic War create TASS Windows.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">1:22-1:28 During the Civil War a new style was born of precise and crushing caricatures and formidable, apt poetry.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">1:29-1:36 TASS Windows, falling into the category of war posters and pictures, are as sharp as bayonets.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">1:37-1:41 (reading the Alphabet poster aloud) Shchorse** beat the Germans in the Ukraine, they won't be spared, not even now!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">**last name of famous Red Army general from the Civil War</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">(end reading the posters aloud)</span></p>
<br /> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">1:50-1:59 Yet another instalment: the artist Savitsky finishes up a painting representing the daring attack of the Red Soldier-Horsemen on the fascist hordes</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">2:00-2:06 The artist Goriaev threw his poster-bayonets to create a caricature of the bandit and cannibal- Hitler!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">(Художник Горяев плакатнaми штыками набрoсал карикатуру на опера бандита и людоеда Гитлера!)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">2:10-2:16 The talented group of friends, famous by the name Kukriniksy, the artists Kuprianov,
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">2:16-2:18 Krylov,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">2:19-2:21 Sokolov</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">2:27-2:34 With the sharp sting of their caricatures, they are helping to annihilate the enemies of our motherland.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">2:50-2:52 (reading the poster aloud) The Fuhrer is getting ready for a long journey</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">2:52-2:54 To pin a cross onto his chest</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">2:54-2:56 But only one is yet unseemly</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">2:57-3:00 He'll get a cross from us as well!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">3:01-3:04 The fascist operations… with vodka
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">(end reading posters aloud)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">3:05-3:12 The Soviet people have already begun to love the TASS Windows, which mirror their deadly hatred of fascism.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="RU">3:13 Artists! Poets! Craftsmen! Sharpen your battle weapons for the complete destruction and annihilation of the enemy!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="" lang="RU"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="" lang="RU"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <span style="font-size:78%;">(all text copyright Julia Alekseyeva 2010)</span>
<br />Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-1679434540603501922010-08-06T00:40:00.002-05:002010-08-06T01:19:54.687-05:00Lolla Tips!Tomorrow's the first day of Lollapalooza 2010, officially my third Lolla in a row, officially my second three-day pass to Lolla in a row. Huzzah! Now, I may not be the coolest person in the world (read: NERD) but I do know my music festivals, especially music festivals in Chicago. Actually, Chicagoan music festivals are the only music festivals that I know (and usually the only ones I'd choose to pay money for, anyway). <div><br /></div><div>It seems that Chicago magazines (the Reader, Time Out Chicago, the Red Eye) are very fond of making "what to bring" and "what not to bring" suggestions for Lollapalooza. These, I quickly discovered, are not complete lists, as they cater to out-of-towners ready to sacrifice a good time for looking good. Not good enough for me! THUS, I present to you:</div><div><br /></div><div>GUIDE TO MUSIC FESTIVALS</div><div><br /></div><div>-No nice clothing. Nothing nice, actually. Nothing that you wouldn't mind losing, i.e. no fancy earrings, necklaces, etc. Things can get ugly, by which I mean awesome. By which I mean: keep your precious jewels at home and stop complaining.</div><div><br /></div><div>-Hydration. I spent last summer's Lolla chronically starving and dehydrated because I was so obsessed with seeing as many bands as I possibly could. Not healthy. I ended quite sick, very disgusting-feeling, and barely able to handle the ridiculous moshpit of 19-year old girls that was last year's Passion Pit show. Bring sealed bottled water. You'll need it.</div><div><br /></div><div>-Sunscreen (duh)</div><div><br /></div><div>-NO umbrellas. All music festival guides discuss this issue. But let's be honest here. If you're going to get wet, you're going to get wet. A flimsy piece of plastic isn't much with the occasional torrential rainstorm. Concerts happen rain or shine, so no use hiding in the back and crouching under an umbrella when you can be one of the few front row and center, being deliriously miserable and having a great time. </div><div><br /></div><div>-Short shorts. Generally, being clothed enough to be decent, but just barely, is good for hot, muggy days. </div><div><br /></div><div>-No nice (read: workplace appropriate, "designer," etc) purses. They'll get screwed up in the heat and rain, and ruin other concertgoers' experiences if you continuously nudge up against them with a huge leather bag. A small messenger bag is key, or small backpack. Or nothing, if you've got pockets to spare.</div><div><br /></div><div>-NO SKIRTS. They'll ride up while you're dancing, and unless you're the chill-in-back-with-a-beer type, you WILL have at least a few people seeing your underpants by the end of the night. Not cool.</div><div><br /></div><div>-(probably) no flip flops. (painful? people stepping on you? losing them in a crowd? all possibilities.) Unless you're six feet tall. In which case, you deserve to get stepped on by myriad combat boots for your ridiculous luck. Us vertically challenged types can only HOPE to sneak a single peek at the hem of Lady Gaga's skirt, and even then it would be on a ten-foot screen. </div><div><br /></div><div>-some sort of ridiculosity (I know that isn't a word. Something to draw you apart from the crowd, since cell phones often stop working at music festivals, especially one like Lolla, with over 240,000 people in a single small park.</div><div><br /></div><div>-If you're going to look at merchandise, start early. Things sell out faster than you might think. Last year I waited until the third day to find a t-shirt and only the smaller bands had any merchandise left, and I believe it was all kids sizes. Fantastic. Explore the booths early, before the hordes arrive.</div><div><br /></div><div>-Perry's, where all the DJs go, is a hilarious and awesome time-killer between big bands. It's like a mini-club within Lolla grounds, except instead of judging you on your lack of high heels and shorts skirts it's full of incredibly stoned people giving you glowsticks and passing around their crappy band's LPs. </div><div><br /></div><div>-What did I forget? Oh yes. HATS! No fashionable black fedoras, stick to straw and summery. Or bandannas. You know, like the cool kids wear. </div><div><br /></div><div>T-10 hours til Lollapalooza! Lady Gaga, Yeasayer, Dirty Projectors, Metric, Black Keys, Edward Sharpe, Gogol Bordello, Green Day, Arcade Fire, and MGMT here we come!</div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-61191036680321519522010-08-01T00:20:00.009-05:002010-08-01T01:16:20.197-05:00Xanga! Total Embarrassment!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oh man, I was just reminded of Xanga by one of my facebook friends. In high school, or more specifically, from the end of freshman year of high school to the end of freshman year of college (2003-2007), I had a Xanga that I would update very often... at the very least, monthly, but usually, once or twice a week. Everyone who was anyone had a Xanga. It was our way of fighting passive-aggressively, of keeping up social networks without really knowing what social networks were, of writing a diary hoping at least one other soul would understand your angst and realize that it wasn't angst at all. Looking back on how we felt in high school, I can't help but feel a surge of embarrassment for being in a bad mood all the time. I had a pretty good time in high school-- far better than '90s movies would lead me to believe. But aren't the teenage years just so </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">embarrassing?! </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I just browsed most of the entries for the past 8-ish years and realized just how much incredibly personal and, I think, absurdly obvious information about my personal life existed on the internet with my full name attached. I also wonder how I even got into college with all of this emotional baggage pasted on the internet for all the world to see. Ugh. I wrote about everything from crushes to teachers possibly being crossdressers to my "firsts". I copied and pasted a lot of song lyrics and did many of those ridiculously long, egotistical tests ("100 things few people know about me!" etc). I also used the Xanga as a dream journal before I began keeping one at the end of my freshman year of college (strangely, also the time I stopped using Xanga...) Mostly, though, I ranted. Pretty pretentiously.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It's also odd to see how my music and film tastes developed. Weird to regress from modern times to senior year, when I listened to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs nonstop, to the Cure (I thought I was so cool), to Led Zeppelin, and Tool before that... and the Doors and Bright Eyes... I also seem to have listened to a lot of Pink Floyd and the Requiem for a Dream soundtrack (creepy!)... </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Snippets from my 2005-and-younger self:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Tomorrow I'm getting four TOOL cds! I art rule." </span></i></span></div><div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mood: Melancholy, as always. "</span></i></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And maybe I will got to junior prom. I don't want to, though. If anything, to keep my division teacher company, who will inevitably end up sitting uncomfortably in a corner reading a novel. I guess I'll do the same. Too bad I can't go in ripped-up jeans and an old t-shir</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">t." (NERD)</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family:Arial;"><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"I was a neurotic jerk yesterday. </span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But that doesn't mean I had to get punched! Does my shoulder really deserve such a bruise? Ouch. Now I refuse to apologize. Fuckass</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">." (Mean? Angsty?)</span></span></p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family:Arial;"><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And aww, the first entry when I talk about wanting to go to Columbia: "</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm hoping that I'm going to get into Columbia University. It's both an ivy league and an artsy liberal arts school. The best of both worlds. We'll see where I go from there. I checked into it today, and they have coed dorms only! FUN STUFF!"</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Wouldn't it be weird if say... I was in my mid-twenties, and all the sudden someone comes up to me and says, "Oh, yeah, you're God. We forgot to tell you for the past 20 something years, but you are, and you have all these cool powers." Maybe that's why I kick ass at the Sims.</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">" Huh?</span></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">There are no more cookies..."</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "></span></span></i></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"You have no idea how much I love iambic pentameter...</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "></span></span></i></span></p><i><p style=" text-decoration: none; display: inline !important; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Or at least structural poetry, </span></span></p></i></i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><p style=" text-decoration: none; display: inline !important; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">although I love writing free verse and blank verse a lot better. </span></span></p></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><p style=" text-decoration: none; display: inline !important; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Usually blank verse. </span></span></p></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><p style=" text-decoration: none; display: inline !important; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Tres cool. </span></span></p></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><p style=" text-decoration: none; display: inline !important; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But anyways... GO POETRY!"</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> (How to know that 15-year old me has NO IDEA what she's talking about)</span></span></p></span></i></span><p></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"I love being liberal. Except for affirmative action. That shit should die." </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(I still believe this, but this sounds really strange and very egotistical coming from my old self)</span></span></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oh, and then there were the Theorems. I had Theorems. And because I love(d) Oscar Wilde so much, I thought a pretty sweet pseudonym would be Julia Wilde, so I called them my Wilde Theorems. For example: "</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">[Wilde] Theorem 1-1: If a person perpetually claims themself as an intelligent person when it isn't necessary to do so, then they are most likely not very clever (or just plain stupid) to interrupt their conversations with exclamations of "i'm intelligent and don't deserve this." A true intellectual would usually shirk away from praise and, if needed, replace self-gratification with comedy." </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The more fancy words I use, the less I know what the hell I'm talking about, which is pretty obvious. </span></span></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This is how most of the entries began: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I had an interesting dream last night… it was trés cool."</span></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When I realized I hated economics after having to study it for Academic Decathlon: "</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">QUESTION: If you could have been working at $24.00 an hour for the two hours it took you to shop for the $59.99 lava lamp, and its ugliness caused your rich significant other to break up with you right before he or she was going to give you a $100 watch, what is the total cost of the lava lamp? </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I have some problems with this... #</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">5. WHO CARES ABOUT MONEY??? You just got dumped! For a lamp!You're not going to find out the economic cost of the lava lamp! You're gonna bawl your eyes out and empty out 2 pints of Ben & Jerry's!"</span></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Nonsequitors: </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ugh, well, my contacts are messed up.</span></span></p></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family:Arial;font-size:small;"><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Funny moment today: (don't remember most of it, but I'll try my best)</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Ginny, Shaina, and I sitting on a front porch outside)</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Me: There's an ant on my arm...</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Shaina + Ginny: Flick it off.</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Me: But it's so cool... so tiny and cute... it's running all over my arm... so tiny... and THEN I SMUSH IT TO PIECES!</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ginny: You are SO sadistic!</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Me: ... (The ant doesn't die even after smushing, so I flick it off)</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Shaina: You're such a freak!</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Me: Says The Shaina...</span></i></span></p><p style=" text-decoration: none; font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ginny: Shaina, she makes a point."</span></i></span></p></span><p></p></div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-74277838211309907712010-07-29T15:51:00.004-05:002010-07-29T15:54:21.125-05:00My Art Institute Blog Entry!YES!!! My TASS entry on the Art Institute's blog is up and running as of yesterday! They made the language a little more flowery than it was earlier, which I'm confused about, but the general gist is the same. Huzzah!<br /><br />LINK TO THE SITE (and nicer image of TASS 1000) <a href="http://blog.artic.edu/blog/2010/07/28/mightier-than-the-bayonet/">HERE</a><br /><h3 class="no_decoration"><a href="http://blog.artic.edu/blog/2010/07/28/mightier-than-the-bayonet/" rel="bookmark" title="Permanent Link to Mightier than the Bayonet?">Mightier than the Bayonet?</a></h3> <div id="blog_subtitle_top"> <p class="">POSTED BY <a href="http://blog.artic.edu/blog/author/admin/" title="Posts by admin">admin</a>, ON <span class="datestamp">July 28, 2010</span>, </p> </div> <p><em> </em></p> <p style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://blog.artic.edu/files/2010/07/blogpostpicture.jpg"><img style="width: 243px; height: 317px;" class="size-medium wp-image-1541 aligncenter" src="http://blog.artic.edu/files/2010/07/blogpostpicture-229x300.jpg" alt="" /></a></p> <p>The word <em>propaganda</em> might initially sound pejorative. Propaganda has been historically perceived as a malevolent method of spreading false rumors. But might we also interpret propaganda as a means of providing a nation courage and willingness to fight in the face of immeasurable odds? Such was the task of the Soviet news agency (TASS) window-posters created in the Soviet Union during the Second World War—and such is the content of <em>Windows on the War</em>, a massive exhibition of these “propaganda” posters that will be mounted at the Art Institute next summer.</p> <p>Propagandistic posters are usually focused on bolstering support on the home front and distanced from the reality of the battlefield. However, the makers of the TASS Windows had a different idea: to use their creative skills as ammunition in the fight against the Germans. Art became a weapon.</p> <p>The poster above, number 1000, acts as a visual manifesto for the TASS studio. Above the picture is a quote by Vladimir Mayakovsky, the acclaimed Russian Futurist poet and founder of the ROSTA Windows—predecessors of TASS in the 1920s and the inspiration for the TASS Window project as a whole. The quote reads, in translation, “I want the pen to be equal to the bayonet”—a wish visually manifested in this image. We see Hitler being attacked by three bayonets, alongside a pencil and ink pen. In fact, if we follow Hitler’s gaze, he seems to be staring directly at the hands holding these two tools. The artists, writers, and poets of TASS, it would seem, have succeeded—they have “killed” the enemy’s spirit, while boosting the morale of Soviet citizens with this symbolic defeat. Finally, as Mayakovsky wished, the pen and pencil are on equal footing with the traditional weapons of war.</p> <p>There was a bona fide sense that producing these TASS Windows was as important as being at the front. In the Soviet Union, the artists who created the posters became beloved cultural icons, as important as military generals. They received state medals and great renown for their work. To this day, surviving former Soviet citizens alive at the time of the TASS Windows can name the artists by heart—artists such as Sokolov-Skalya, Solov’ev, Shukhmin, and the Kukryniksy.</p> <p>Surrounding the production of the TASS Windows are stories of passion, fervor, and intense labor. The artists would gather, regardless of abominable weather or the advancing enemy attack on Moscow, to create a new poster virtually every day of World War II. Not unlike the Red Army soldiers, the artists and writers labored in inhospitable conditions for the sake of the war effort. Because of the cultural importance of these posters and the iconic status of these artists and writers, heroic or wistful cultural myths came to surround the studio as time went on. According to some anecdotes, TASS posters were carried to the Front by the soldiers and were used to intimidate the enemy. Some TASS artists and writers were even driven to the Front itself so that they might absorb the details of war to imbue later drawings with veracity. The artists and writers of the TASS Windows truly felt their art to be one of the most powerful weapons against the Nazi invaders.</p> <p>–Julia A., intern in the Department of Prints and Drawings</p> <p>Image: Nikolai Fedorovich Denisovsky and Pavel Petrovich Sokolov-Skalya, <em>Our One Thousandth Blow</em>, June 5, 1944. Gift of the USSR Society for Cultural Relations with Foreign Countries.</p>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-53440853853493003392010-07-29T09:36:00.003-05:002010-07-29T10:07:27.164-05:00Billy ElliotWhat makes people enjoy musicals? Personally it seems that everyone I know that loves them imagines themselves as the protagonist, exposed in the limelight. Doesn't everyone have an urge to belt into song once in a while? Why don't we indulge these urges? It seems that people would be happier if only the desire to sing and dance in the middle of a mundane task wasn't so frowned upon. Maybe this is why karaoke is so popular, because, lacking the escape and loss of self that the stage allots to only a select few actors, karaoke gives people the adrenaline rush of the spotlight, however temporarily.<br /><br />I think that's why I liked Billy Elliot so much. I came into the musical knowing nothing about the history, plot, whatever. I didn't even know it was Elton John's musical. It simply seemed so utterly pertinent... I'm a sucker for stories of revolution, and Billy Elliot is set in the backdrop of the miner's strike in England during Thatcher's time. Billy's father is one of the 200,000 miners on strike, and with the clash of absurd-looking cops and swarthy miners striking batons against newspapers in an epic Capitalist vs. Socialist battle ... was a little boy who just freaking wanted to dance.<br /><br />And wow, did that boy know how to dance. The character was only 10 years old but performed pirouettes worthy of a mini-Baryshnikov, with occasional jazz and tap. I would probably pay $25 just to see this kid dance for a few hours. Billy Elliot's Chicago run at the Oriental has four kids alternating as Billys, which I think is a pretty ingenious way of not destroying the lives of kid actors. Then again, I'm not sure whether the alternating Billys are kitsch in and of themselves instead of actually being a practical measure but I digress.<br /><br />Hugely recommended!!Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-42026588502428874902010-07-20T11:33:00.004-05:002010-07-20T11:41:31.284-05:00Taste of TASSAfter a whole (half-)summer of translations, I have one I'm kinda proud of. It has a few awkward moments, but it's a pretty good indicator of how we do things. A "Taste of TASS," if you will. Even though this wasn't a TASS poster per se, it was written by Demian Bednii, who frequently wrote for the TASS posters. So I guess this falls under the denomination of TASS-related, but oh well. Check it:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoyPZdbkGCROcPABkVMZN36diyPwfJI8CvUYMqSQ0iCfuy1jhVS04RKBVZDD1orswxWFo3U94MXWerEHyboxwSrfQ0s9Xm0cNb4OdjqkxhR2XRkWPfcaNwEUcfWQnWoz8gBo4oDPRqA8A/s1600/10634_ZD.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 532px; height: 368px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoyPZdbkGCROcPABkVMZN36diyPwfJI8CvUYMqSQ0iCfuy1jhVS04RKBVZDD1orswxWFo3U94MXWerEHyboxwSrfQ0s9Xm0cNb4OdjqkxhR2XRkWPfcaNwEUcfWQnWoz8gBo4oDPRqA8A/s320/10634_ZD.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496028342800367618" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">FASCISM—ENEMY OF NATIONS</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Unfortunate country under the deadly heat.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Getting the corpses ready for future graves,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Laughing brazenly before death, twisting his rotten, evil grin,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">The Fascist decay of worn-down teeth.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Еverything desecrated! In dirt is freedom and culture, </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Into oppressive slavery is labor bound.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Onto all of Germany a figure is spread</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Ominously dark, the Fascist evil octopus.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">The octopus pulls its furry paws</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">To the north and south, east and west.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">In Spain, the Fascist satraps are stunned,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">The persistent germ of the People's Front.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">The Fascist messengers dart all over the Balkans,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Disturb the Polish,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Connive Japanese plans,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">While bringing verbal gifts to various countries</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Who want to emblazon a swastika in their coat of arms</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">The fascist octopus, opening up the hope of its mileposts,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">Began to furiously trumpet a march into our Union. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">So what? Let him thrust his four paws at us,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">We'll be able to chop them off!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="RU">-Demian Bednii</span></p> <span style="font-size:85%;">Copyright Julia Alekseyeva 2010</span>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-14125157262642461512010-07-18T12:32:00.014-05:002010-07-20T11:30:39.830-05:00Pitchfork 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXWlDFHkVAT3jECkk3M8byHmShMzgO72EBkMjuKkTemnFRPxY-l80xByxODXrAko4ILGIdZeQSFvPAuIg-o6yQtP35H6jxt6aAV-iuc43bs5bFVFg_MYInsVAbDSBpgWu2rQf5efzCppo/s1600/IMG00071-20100716-1653.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXWlDFHkVAT3jECkk3M8byHmShMzgO72EBkMjuKkTemnFRPxY-l80xByxODXrAko4ILGIdZeQSFvPAuIg-o6yQtP35H6jxt6aAV-iuc43bs5bFVFg_MYInsVAbDSBpgWu2rQf5efzCppo/s320/IMG00071-20100716-1653.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495306787951760210" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIL8PPevy4lmroqU25n2tuWGJya4SPiYuhb8xQfWV2Rfd-Y3Bw8euHn5sMUhTAlgmlk8VdNiGrOBs1NP_FB_jgHIEI8zngaOQJF707Ljy1GXvf_bF9clsLQVk4X1LRM2bn8SBXGQn2GG0/s1600/IMG00074-20100716-1846.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIL8PPevy4lmroqU25n2tuWGJya4SPiYuhb8xQfWV2Rfd-Y3Bw8euHn5sMUhTAlgmlk8VdNiGrOBs1NP_FB_jgHIEI8zngaOQJF707Ljy1GXvf_bF9clsLQVk4X1LRM2bn8SBXGQn2GG0/s320/IMG00074-20100716-1846.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495306652953432386" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDswhXLmG5sr_SgJHZeXypKjojYDKjeLKJMA9N5yKD3jTPVRUPIkdhI8EX2MP-COxHC6SrZnXQOpQxZawy4FfGq6XNTwINsNZ5ak2Q20f9BHIJSYh0qplHkHeUbf6JLVbmT4ymENgG5c/s1600/IMG00077-20100716-1846.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDswhXLmG5sr_SgJHZeXypKjojYDKjeLKJMA9N5yKD3jTPVRUPIkdhI8EX2MP-COxHC6SrZnXQOpQxZawy4FfGq6XNTwINsNZ5ak2Q20f9BHIJSYh0qplHkHeUbf6JLVbmT4ymENgG5c/s320/IMG00077-20100716-1846.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495306476975128306" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CPAcBlF1ee0Kf4eQqIVFFGUI0hikS-yFe1DRpw1uEH0k8JZuc-Gw-sWwkij7gebVVi59WPPjOqfCdMtkIJaUJksO3S9xO5lNhFF4tpLNp5jEnmRfmjY5j5FibTY2MTXVJoervAfqsi0/s1600/IMG00079-20100716-1846.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CPAcBlF1ee0Kf4eQqIVFFGUI0hikS-yFe1DRpw1uEH0k8JZuc-Gw-sWwkij7gebVVi59WPPjOqfCdMtkIJaUJksO3S9xO5lNhFF4tpLNp5jEnmRfmjY5j5FibTY2MTXVJoervAfqsi0/s320/IMG00079-20100716-1846.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495306331060496946" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YnNE3ob5qsmXxuqMzFs8serIWowMGPvNs_0jpUXN97u1A4iSBk054uYjUDujb4VsAtKY4mEwOY5HonrnwSK7JTU6bqwh1ue9Mwjbun2tR9gEjvW4cjtmXam-5u3yyFdOBTZbSGIER0o/s1600/IMG00081-20100716-1847.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YnNE3ob5qsmXxuqMzFs8serIWowMGPvNs_0jpUXN97u1A4iSBk054uYjUDujb4VsAtKY4mEwOY5HonrnwSK7JTU6bqwh1ue9Mwjbun2tR9gEjvW4cjtmXam-5u3yyFdOBTZbSGIER0o/s320/IMG00081-20100716-1847.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495306014736447186" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgucijXdW3QKc_aB1BPTuhzKtFRg_ULW5KAyidsuLiL3vGhmamSwc-BgLR1Iyxwx1L_0YB00MFehRFYVA4p3gFVJdQd2qSMKPAmU4ASUBexWeYH0C9Mjhkzz1P0Th_TVBzGmvTtmtJm-o/s1600/IMG00084-20100716-1848.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgucijXdW3QKc_aB1BPTuhzKtFRg_ULW5KAyidsuLiL3vGhmamSwc-BgLR1Iyxwx1L_0YB00MFehRFYVA4p3gFVJdQd2qSMKPAmU4ASUBexWeYH0C9Mjhkzz1P0Th_TVBzGmvTtmtJm-o/s320/IMG00084-20100716-1848.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495305831789432226" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_D8Vui2RahzDschMcxAICRaRV9AwUWCqjGMGOTwk2bcW5F3ELU9NSf-1RKv3ClJs0XKFQ2FMSzo8l58wklqLFKpodUIYHYBHvqYoRS7VLgdqs6yNKDVdpSMBDJ9H8qOeq-SZLcqBbnU/s1600/IMG00086-20100716-1921.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_D8Vui2RahzDschMcxAICRaRV9AwUWCqjGMGOTwk2bcW5F3ELU9NSf-1RKv3ClJs0XKFQ2FMSzo8l58wklqLFKpodUIYHYBHvqYoRS7VLgdqs6yNKDVdpSMBDJ9H8qOeq-SZLcqBbnU/s320/IMG00086-20100716-1921.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495305672354346946" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmI2zRfNJ4VSQtYig3wdq2JahPzhynDQlxw1rOaPJ9d0naFJEegvg1we6LY1ZpB9z_A_sKfuOV0HHhL0KRvF0fhSVm5KgGoSymVOBGotId3MV69kPTVqLwpMfIoWhE5u1TfdHaajm0ZUk/s1600/IMG00087-20100716-1922.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmI2zRfNJ4VSQtYig3wdq2JahPzhynDQlxw1rOaPJ9d0naFJEegvg1we6LY1ZpB9z_A_sKfuOV0HHhL0KRvF0fhSVm5KgGoSymVOBGotId3MV69kPTVqLwpMfIoWhE5u1TfdHaajm0ZUk/s320/IMG00087-20100716-1922.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495305386594445410" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBm7JgPxzU4nySiLZWi-GaXj1NZCUZo3fWMRWm2QM_cAqJCHaDrhvUGQuNsnmZMQ3Eni-V0yYOinxtFma2khoLf4YGe49AJytSW8JOAQWamfP-0YdEWRfbJ1ytxz5rcspmp0wmTqN8ykA/s1600/IMG00090-20100716-1941.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBm7JgPxzU4nySiLZWi-GaXj1NZCUZo3fWMRWm2QM_cAqJCHaDrhvUGQuNsnmZMQ3Eni-V0yYOinxtFma2khoLf4YGe49AJytSW8JOAQWamfP-0YdEWRfbJ1ytxz5rcspmp0wmTqN8ykA/s320/IMG00090-20100716-1941.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495305081136218530" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY7clXL10-tzkv3xD9PglXTLVEN5HbW2sLuY-FkVwVhqXi9wImylZNP-9MLituPLE1Ati5wzj7CHWNj9rJfco0ncrXN9zgNs9YvFGObv1kYNhJAtk6jK8zamBPsTG6byDeFX8sYQCJ7MY/s1600/IMG00094-20100716-2047.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY7clXL10-tzkv3xD9PglXTLVEN5HbW2sLuY-FkVwVhqXi9wImylZNP-9MLituPLE1Ati5wzj7CHWNj9rJfco0ncrXN9zgNs9YvFGObv1kYNhJAtk6jK8zamBPsTG6byDeFX8sYQCJ7MY/s320/IMG00094-20100716-2047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495304911706295682" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7DEvNZ3zCg_HNzzpLUbbPhoH1WIqZjTs1l7i5LigQZmQTrQwSlTP6RS_na1AoY1Xw6ath85TlkKWi1-TbG-4AndDalgdOHSqUFS_rE_G_x3m1d9rAofDNCD32LLYdbgr6rSuHgANDEI/s1600/IMG00071-20100716-1653.jpg"><br /></a>Finally! My first Pitchfork. I had bought tickets years before and always balked at the last minute, selling them for only slightly more than they're worth.<br /><br />Pitchfork, the "indie" music festival par excellence, was always put on a music-lovers pedestal that could really only disappoint. In fact, however expensive Lollapalooza tickets are, Lolla seems to be a more relaxed and true festival experience.<br /><br />DIFFERENCES BETWEEN LOLLAPALOOZA AND PITCHFORK<br />1. Attire. One normally wears the most casual clothing possible for Lollapalooza, knowing that it is only going to get soaked with the neighboring concertgoers' sweat. You can always tell firstcomers by their flip-flops, if they are short (how would they see??), or skirts, if they are tall (how would they jump??). By enormous contrast, Pitchfork began like a runway show for American Apparel and Urban Outfitters. On the bus over, which was packed with festival attendees, there were more layers, jewelry, and "vintage" leather bags than were clearly necessary for this disgustingly hot and humid 95 degree day. Thankfully, as the day progressed, layers began disappearing and the cuteness factor eventually evened out as people realized that comfort and NOT having heat stroke is, in fact, more important than ending up in a StreetStyle blog.<br /><br />2. Set length. Pitchfork was like the Taste of Chicago-- delicious, but a complete teaser. Tallest Man on Earth only got to play 5 or so songs in his measly 30 minute set. Even Broken Social Scene seemed to only get to about 7 or 8 songs, and Modest Mouse didn't even APPROACH the amazing 3-hour long set time of the last time I saw them live, back in 2006. Lollapalooza, on the other hand, is just a conglomeration of near-normal length concerts. With the exception of distortion-fueled post-rock like Animal Collective, Lolla just feels like a bunch of normal concerts, in which the artist(s) normally plays his/her/their hits, plus a few odds and ends for the true fans in the audience, and everyone leaves elated, dirty, and somewhat sick due to 2-ish hours of jumping with nary a bathroom or food break.<br /><br />3. Shops. Lolla had a few minor merch booths. Beer and water were, obviously, the most popular items. Especially beer. Lolla crowds are more often than not easygoing suburban types, your potheads and bros, plus the far weirder city kids who *somehow* managed to scrounge up the $215 and attend. This = beer consumption. Pitchfork, however, although not lacking in stoners, had very little beer consumption. If people did drink beer, it seemed slightly out of place. The Threadless booth actually received more money than beer! A relatively expensive t-shirt franchise receiving more money than Miller Light somehow seems veeeeryyy strange to me. There was actually a whole avenue of shops, making Pitchfork more of a street fair + music festival.<br /><br />All in all, Broken Social Scene steals the day. Modest Mouse was a teaser. El-P, however, pretty great.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">EDIT: I MET TALLEST MAN ON EARTH! Proof:</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigbShLUYnSjteAHFjkNjTGJfN4C9BlxobKe8ma2fF53hewlPbaCcR8GuUtyqPrrU3aUsomFm6b06GR3LOuwObn6y6ioeIgKx-N3e2K1iAo1sRT9H6WUFAVYeO2UMVN9U7iXuNcBuRQj3k/s1600/35076_567201721100_5904993_33125585_7603618_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigbShLUYnSjteAHFjkNjTGJfN4C9BlxobKe8ma2fF53hewlPbaCcR8GuUtyqPrrU3aUsomFm6b06GR3LOuwObn6y6ioeIgKx-N3e2K1iAo1sRT9H6WUFAVYeO2UMVN9U7iXuNcBuRQj3k/s320/35076_567201721100_5904993_33125585_7603618_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496026315472546994" border="0" /></a>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-46458246898680755062010-07-15T20:34:00.002-05:002010-07-15T20:47:35.986-05:00I write like...Amazing website: <a href="http://iwl.me/">http://iwl.me/</a><br /><br />Supposedly figures out what famous writer your writing style is like.<br /><br />For blog posts:<br /><br /><!-- Begin I Write Like Badge --><br /><div style="overflow:auto;border:2px solid #ddd;font:20px/1.2 Arial,sans-serif;width:380px;padding:5px; background:#F7F7F7; color:#555"><img src="http://s.iwl.me/w.png" style="float:right" width="120"><div style="padding:20px; border-bottom:1px solid #eee; text-shadow:#fff 0 1px"> I write like<br><a href="http://iwl.me/w/d7939cdb" style="font-size:30px;color:#698B22;text-decoration:none">David Foster Wallace</a></div><p style="font-size:11px; text-align:center; color:#888"><em>I Write Like</em> by Mémoires, <a href="http://www.codingrobots.com/memoires/" style="color:#888">Mac journal software</a>. <a href="http://iwl.me" style="color:#333; background:#FFFFE0"><b>Analyze your writing!</b></a></p></div><br /><!-- End I Write Like Badge --><br /><br />For articles:<br /><br /><!-- Begin I Write Like Badge --><br /><div style="overflow:auto;border:2px solid #ddd;font:20px/1.2 Arial,sans-serif;width:380px;padding:5px; background:#F7F7F7; color:#555"><img src="http://s.iwl.me/w.png" style="float:right" width="120"><div style="padding:20px; border-bottom:1px solid #eee; text-shadow:#fff 0 1px"> I write like<br><a href="http://iwl.me/w/2b568272" style="font-size:30px;color:#698B22;text-decoration:none">Chuck Palahniuk</a></div><p style="font-size:11px; text-align:center; color:#888"><em>I Write Like</em> by Mémoires, <a href="http://www.codingrobots.com/memoires/" style="color:#888">Mac journal software</a>. <a href="http://iwl.me" style="color:#333; background:#FFFFE0"><b>Analyze your writing!</b></a></p></div><br /><!-- End I Write Like Badge --><br /><br />For creative writing:<br /><br /><!-- Begin I Write Like Badge --><br /><div style="overflow:auto;border:2px solid #ddd;font:20px/1.2 Arial,sans-serif;width:380px;padding:5px; background:#F7F7F7; color:#555"><img src="http://s.iwl.me/w.png" style="float:right" width="120"><div style="padding:20px; border-bottom:1px solid #eee; text-shadow:#fff 0 1px"> I write like<br><a href="http://iwl.me/w/68c65cc" style="font-size:30px;color:#698B22;text-decoration:none">Neil Gaiman</a></div><p style="font-size:11px; text-align:center; color:#888"><em>I Write Like</em> by Mémoires, <a href="http://www.codingrobots.com/memoires/" style="color:#888">Mac journal software</a>. <a href="http://iwl.me" style="color:#333; background:#FFFFE0"><b>Analyze your writing!</b></a></p></div><br /><!-- End I Write Like Badge --><br /><br />Sometimes I also got Dan Brown for the fiction. Ugh. I really do hate the way I write fiction, though, and my example text is from my Structure and Style class from nearly four years ago... I should start writing fiction again just to prove that my style has improved.<br /><br />For academic papers: <br /><br /><!-- Begin I Write Like Badge --><br /><div style="overflow:auto;border:2px solid #ddd;font:20px/1.2 Arial,sans-serif;width:380px;padding:5px; background:#F7F7F7; color:#555"><img src="http://s.iwl.me/w.png" style="float:right" width="120"><div style="padding:20px; border-bottom:1px solid #eee; text-shadow:#fff 0 1px"> I write like<br><a href="http://iwl.me/w/147eabd8" style="font-size:30px;color:#698B22;text-decoration:none">H. P. Lovecraft</a></div><p style="font-size:11px; text-align:center; color:#888"><em>I Write Like</em> by Mémoires, <a href="http://www.codingrobots.com/memoires/" style="color:#888">Mac journal software</a>. <a href="http://iwl.me" style="color:#333; background:#FFFFE0"><b>Analyze your writing!</b></a></p></div><br /><!-- End I Write Like Badge --><br /><br /><br />P.S. I just copy and pasted a few paragraphs of one of my old papers that was supposed to mimic Kafka and the dumb website said James Joyce. Either I picked the wrong (quasi-)modernist or this website is a bunch of hooey.Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-83794127863361408982010-07-13T01:18:00.004-05:002010-07-13T01:31:29.401-05:00Adorable! + Disney ListSomeone made an engagement ring box in the shape of Carl's house from <span style="font-style: italic;">Up</span>!<br /><br />Amazing!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XdP6Lp2ceqY/TDkzIYaD57I/AAAAAAAAWLU/nVvPEv5CJ5M/s1600/victorian-dollhouse-pixar-up-1-509x381.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 251px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XdP6Lp2ceqY/TDkzIYaD57I/AAAAAAAAWLU/nVvPEv5CJ5M/s1600/victorian-dollhouse-pixar-up-1-509x381.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XdP6Lp2ceqY/TDkzHhxhqYI/AAAAAAAAWK8/8fKaaq6ZGnY/s1600/Up-WIP22.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 373px; height: 279px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XdP6Lp2ceqY/TDkzHhxhqYI/AAAAAAAAWK8/8fKaaq6ZGnY/s1600/Up-WIP22.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisq3TjMcW0tChcGdInAoxPu52BS3PWQBkqpX684SjfJrJR-6OwnfYZbXU6NlU8UqmLPJTtoqmUn04Gmvjw7sYiVRDZeiLE3st4ctYPEF0ZnRJ833xbBbjr2gaFsZ0Lexx7gqqMoSlGN6o6/s1600/up-ring-box.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 325px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisq3TjMcW0tChcGdInAoxPu52BS3PWQBkqpX684SjfJrJR-6OwnfYZbXU6NlU8UqmLPJTtoqmUn04Gmvjw7sYiVRDZeiLE3st4ctYPEF0ZnRJ833xbBbjr2gaFsZ0Lexx7gqqMoSlGN6o6/s1600/up-ring-box.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />How perfect to use the film <span style="font-style: italic;">Up </span>for a declaration of endless love... (excuse the sappiness)<br /><br />---<br /><br />On the topic of Cartoons, my friend Colin wrote a wonderful review of the Disney Renaissance films (which, I hope, he will post online, somewhere, for public viewing). <a href="http://juliaalekseyeva.blogspot.com/2010/05/waking-sleeping-beauty.html">In my previous review of Waking Sleeping Beauty </a>I assumed the Disney Renaissance only spanned until 1994. I was wrong, according to wikipedia, and a few other sources which I am too lazy to name. I was going to write a rebuttal review of each film, but that would require rewatching some of my least favorites. No thanks, I'd prefer never to see "Hercules" again.<br /><br />So, in the name of laziness and useless listmaking:<br /><br />THE NINE DISNEY RENAISSANCE FILMS FROM BEST TO WORST<br /><br />1. Lion King<br />2. Beauty and the Beast<br />3. Aladdin<br />4. Pocahontas<br />5. The Little Mermaid<br />6. Mulan<br />7. Tarzan<br />8. The Hunchback of Notre Dame<br />9. Hercules<br /><br />Let it be known that I despise the last two so vehemently because by the time of my viewing the film in mid-to-late-childhood, I already knew the original, grotesque, non-Disneyfied stories and loved the *real* versions <span style="font-style: italic;">so much more</span>, even though Esmeralda is one of my favorite Disney heroines.Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-5954928088544518962010-07-08T22:53:00.002-05:002010-07-08T23:12:54.851-05:00UpdatesOk, so this has officially been the longest lapse in posts since this blog's conception. Well, probably. I didn't really check. Regardless, sorry for the delay. I'm slowly thinking about revamping and re-conceptualizing what this blog is really all about. At this point it's somewhere between xanga, livejournal, and RottenTomatoes, and I'm not really quite sure how I feel about it. The reviews aren't really getting me anywhere, and usually they're just a way of ranting about movies I dislike, or supporting movies I do (which is most of the ones I see, anyway). And since I'll be going to grad school in a bit over a month (eep!) isn't it time to, well, maybe grow up a little?<br /><br />Since the blog domain is just my first and last name, I suppose I can just have a "this is what I'm up to lately" kind of thing, but that seems a little trite and uninteresting. I can keep it random, but in that case I'd have to update it very often. I see so many movies that writing about all of them, and at least 600 words for each, is getting to be extremely draining (even though a good exercise an worthwhile, etc). I guess the blog could be an update on upcoming projects of mine? For example, I was just published (2 poems) in "<a href="http://www.milkmoneymag.com/">Milk Money</a>," a literary journal I know nothing about but that has a very cool cover (see "Vile Pile" cover).<br /><br />Please let me know if you have any clues on what the heck to do with this blog! Or, you know, with my life.<br /><br />Another update: the reason I've been slow on the blogging this summer is because of my internship at the Art Institute of Chicago. I'm hesitant to write directly about anything I'm working on (in the Prints and Drawings Department) because I suspect that any mention of the museum or department automatically gets tallied and reviewed by the staff, the way they did at my other Museum internship two Springs ago. Basically, at the Art Institute I've been translating Soviet TASS posters (OKHA TACC: Telegrafnaia Agentsia Sovetskovo Soyuza), which are these beautiful and incredibly moving (and often horrifying) WWII propaganda posters, made to encourage Russian citizens and soldiers to keep up the fight. It's incredibly powerful stuff. I probably can't include any images that aren't on the Museum site, but here's the blog, which I will hopefully start writing for soon (fingers crossed!): <a href="http://blog.artic.edu/blog/tag/tass/">TASS BLOG.</a><br /><br />I'm absolutely in love with this project. I just hope I don't become desensitized to scathing war propaganda, although I suspect it's slowly been happening!!!<br /><br />More on the TASS project soon.Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-86674182440521808012010-06-19T00:57:00.007-05:002010-06-19T12:19:36.929-05:00The REAL Guilty PleasuresJust a few hours ago I was coming home after a night out, in a stage of near-sleep but, like any 21-year old, steadfastly refusing to go to sleep before midnight, and therefore reached for the remote. Flipping through channels, I came upon a movie that I'd never seen but know, objectively, to be horrendous-- "American Wedding." Yes, from the American Pie franchise. And suddenly the memories flooded back-- of Sunday afternoons in 8th grade spent watching American Pie with my neighbor, and giggling endlessly, to watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch and being fascinated by her wardrobe changes in 7th grade, and, even before then, to those god-awful Olsen twin movies that seemed to plague every tween and child household. This was the person I was before I was 15, when I began to watch movies with an ardor that lay somewhere between stamp collecting and bizarre fetishes-- a compulsion to watch more, and more, and more, but GOOD more, a More I can tell people about, a More I feel good about watching while also enjoying the very meat of the film. Sometimes I like to forget what I was like before I was 20 and watched my first Hitchcock, before I was 19 and watched my first Godard, before the high school viewing of <em>400 Coups</em> and even before <em>Donnie Darko</em> and <em>Fight Club</em>, when I brought <em>A Clockwork Orange </em>home my sophomore year of high school and was henceforth banned from ever watching a movie again in the living room.<br /><div><div><div><div><div></div><br /><div>These ten movies deserve a list of their own. Pretension can only go so far before you realize that the person you are is the person you also hide from people occassionally, and the movies you'd never discuss except with your closest friends. Although I haven't seen most of these movies in many, many years, I find myself thinking of them often, these tween films that seem to be in a league of their own. Of course, I also watched a few "good" movies before high school-- <em>Forrest Gump</em>, <em>Tootsie</em>, <em>Dr. Zhivago</em>, <em>My Fair Lady</em>,<em>the Sound of Music</em>-- and many fantastic animated films (many of Disney Renaissance fame but also great stuff like the animated series "Duck Tales"), but listing these films would be redundant and uninteresting. The following ten are more or less chronological, starting from my arrival to the United States in the early '90s, and continue well into my freshman year of high school. They're also separated pretty easily into thematic elements. (Even as a kid I loved to categorize!) And thus:</div><div></div><div>THEME 1: FILMS KIND OF LIKE THE ORIGINAL PARENT TRAP, WHICH I STILL HAVE NEVER SEEN </div><div><div><div><div><br /><br /></div><div>1) <em>It Takes Two</em>. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 144px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 226px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://images.rottentomatoes.com/images/movie/coverv/25/190625.jpg" /></div><div>This Olson twin movie was my first, and favorite, to this day. Before they launched an enormous franchise and began travelling around the world making sub-par tween flicks for ABC Family (and well before college and the ensuing eating disorders), Mary-Kate and Ashley Olson were two blondish 8-ish-year old kids, separated at birth (probably-- the question was never really raised, to my recollection) and trying to get their respective family guardians to get together. Mary Kate was my favorite, playing a Brooklyn tomboy (as evidenced by the overalls and backwards cap, a look I emulated for many years of life). Ashley, as an upper-class piano-playing priss, was less interesting. Seeing Kirstie Alley and Steve Guttenberg fall in love, however... kind of hilarious. I still love this movie. Even if its tomatometer is 9%, lower than SATC2. Oy.</div><div><br /><br /></div><div>2) <em>The Parent Trap</em>. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 322px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://meggitymegs.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/lindsey.jpg" />Many people refer to the film as "where we know Lindsay Lohan from" or "Lindsay before boobs" or "Lindsay Lohan when she was still cute, and where did that girl go?" I watched this film repeatedly one summer before 6th or 7th grade and now seem to know all the lines unthinkingly. This is often not a good thing. But I will attest to my love of this movie; I still marvel at however the tech engineers managed to make Lindsay into two 13(?)-year old girls, but oh well. Same plot as the previous movie, and apparently just a weird(ly awesome!) remake of the original <em>Parent Trap</em> from decades ago which starred the impish girl from <em>Polyanna</em>. Regardless, Dennis Quaid, who plays the father, is pretty much adorable. Also I happily rewatch this movie every time it's on television, a mark of a tween classic for sure! (tomatometer: 75ish. QUITE respectable!!)<br /></div><div><br /><br /></div><div>THEME 2: MOVIES STARRING MELISSA JOAN HART</div><div><br /><br /></div><div>3)<em>Sabrina</em>. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://content.internetvideoarchive.com/content/photos/152/006407_8.jpg" /></div><div>Ah, yes, the film before <em>Sabrina the Teenage Witch</em> was launched on TGIF and my ensuing nights for the next 5-ish years were spent pointing at things randomly in an attempt to levitate them. Alas, no sparkly things flew out of my index finger, but damn did I love that franchise. This film, which I remember all the way back from 4th grade, was my introduction. Mostly I was mesmerized by the clothes, and the tasteful black swimsuit that Sabrina Spellman sports during a pool party. There's also a friends-trying-on-stuff-in-the-dressing-room montage, which I now realize is an absolute necessity in any tween girl drama. Regardless, however cute the movie might've been, it was pretty tame compared to the bubbly, perkiness of the show, and was very modest and even serious... probably the reason for the unknowability (is this a word?) of this flick. It doesn't even have a tomatometer!<br /><br /></div><div>4) <em>Sabrina Goes to Rome</em><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 179px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 341px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://img1.fantasticfiction.co.uk/images/n8/n43552.jpg" /><br /><div><em></em></div>In a similar vein is this kind of awful little gem, produced at the peak of the Sabrina franchise. I remember being fascinated by yet another string of dressing-room montages, and lots of tourist-y shots of Rome that I adored as a kid. I still haven't been to Rome, partly because it simply doesn't seem appealing without a time-travelling excursion to the Renaissance in order to release a long-deceased relative from a spell entrapping her in an old gold locket. How disappointing it is to be old! And to realize that this movie was so horrible that it didn't deserve its own tomatometer. No mention of it on rottentomatoes at all. Oh well. Also her Italian love interest isn't as attractive as I remember him being...</div><div></div><div><div></div><div></div><div>5) <em>Drive Me Crazy</em></div><div><em></em></div><div></div><div><em><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 172px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 247px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://nickcoman.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/drive-me-crazy.jpg" /></em></div><div>And then came a legitimately good tween movie starring Hart, and introducing Adrian Grenier, future Entourage lead. Ok, maybe it wasn't as good of a movie as I remember it being, but it was pretty damn fun, and the characters were pretty believable, however vapid. I remember one Star Wars nerd who ended up being the Designated Driver for every party, a pretty blonde that only became popular when losing a great deal of weight, and a punk chick who wore black lipstick and made out with the male lead character in the janitor's closet of their high school. Classic late '90s shit. Ignore the Britney Spears-based title (also the title song). Tomatometer: 29 (ouuuchhh!)</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>THEME 3: CRAPPY ROMANTIC COMEDIES</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>6) <em>French Kiss</em></div><div><em><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 181px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 332px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.solarnavigator.net/films_movies_actors/film_images/French_Kiss_movie_dvd.jpg" /></em></div><div>Meg Ryan + random French dude romantic comedy. To this day it's the only romantic comedy (outside of the Apatow franchinse) that I've ever truly enjoyed. To be specific, it's the only romantic comedy marketed towards women that I've ever fully enjoyed. Maybe it's because I watched it in 6th grade and sex was still a novel concept. Maybe it's because it's set in France. Maybe it's perverse as hell. Mostly, though, I just had pretty bad taste. Although Meg Ryan is pretty adorable as a neurotic Canadian. Favorite moments include a sensual wine-tasting in the outskirts of Paris, a dual-screen partner-switching sex-montage, and a fear-of-flying panic attack inside of an airplane. Tomatometer: 50. (oops)</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>THEME 4: DISNEY CHANNEL ORIGINAL MOVIES</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>7) <em>Wish Upon a Star</em></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 280px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM34swVfIeSGEwdlPP2Ncz7L_q1BTSKQeGZ-VPA6BUiNi7YhMYTS2t6UCn-RvGWtLCLzvf5GuQuz0ttoizs4_tA90CI7M6RF8BcHquAAvf34AUmeSwuB9NQ2AwoJ2igOfJa4lE35JjjyA/s400/51YMHASVZAL._SL500_AA280_.jpg" /></div><div>Then, sometime in 7th grade, I got cable. And then came Disney Channel in all its cheesy, tweeny wonder. I remember knowing that most movies on the channel were absolutely horrible, but I watched them all anyway. Why? Did I have no friends? (yes) Was I bored? (maybe) Did I feel a bizarre need to chronicle the characters' wardrobes? (absolutely). Although I can list a bunch of Disney Channel originals that I recorded onto VHS tapes (some movie about a mermaid, the Zenon [Xenon?] movies, some movie about basketball players), there was really only one I watched repeatedly-- <em>Wish Upon a Star</em>. Another <em>Parent Trap-</em>esque switch movie, except this one was based on two very different sisters (one astronomy nerd, another promiscuous prom queen type) switching bodies accidentally. Ok, absurd plotline, but the popular-girl-in-nerd-body's Madonna-inspired striptease on the cafeteria tables made it worth it. For the first half of <em>Knocked Up </em>I agonized over the familiarity of the lead female's face before I realized that Katherine Heigl plays the popular girl (or at least the popular girl body). No tomatometer ranking, but one reviewer calls it "gag-worthy" (oh boy). </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>THEME 5: THE LATER YEARS, MISCELLANEOUS</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>8) <em>Bring It On</em>. </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 168px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 287px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.mrosen.com/public.assets/movies/Bring%20It%20On.jpg" /></div><div>And then came cheerleading. The best cheerleading movie ever made. I've been dying to rewatch this incredible flick since 8th grade and keep forgetting. I am shameless about my adoration of <em>Bring It On,</em> even to the extent of occassionally bursting into cheer-speech ("ooo-ee-ooo-ee-ooo, Ice Ice Ice!"). Fucking late '90s classic. Also the punk rocker-ish main dude and his Clash t-shirt (what is with my adoration with nerdy, grungy, punkish male leads?) was the sole reason for my later obsession with the band (Dunst: "So, is that, like, your band or something?") I also loved how satirical it was, and how it never seemed to take itself seriously, since the actors and actresses were often too good for the pretty awful script. I can't believe this film only garnered a 64%. Race/class-relations?! Anyone?!</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>9)<em>The Princess Diaries</em>. </div><div></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 185px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://golexis.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/975198the-princess-diaries-posters.jpg" /></div><div>When did this film come out? Early high school? 7-8th grade? Right around this time I was becoming a little ashamed of seeing films with my mom, and this was probably the last one where this happened. Alas, I did buy the VHS, and watched it constantly. Along with body/life-switcheroo movies, I was also a huge fan of Pygmalion/My Fair Lady-type makeover movies. Also Julie Andrews. Big fan of Julie Andrews. (Favorite childhood stars: Andrews and Robin Williams, definitely. Maybe Dustin Hoffman in <em>Tootsie</em>, but Williams even played that role in <em>Mrs. Doubtfire</em>). No need to rehash the plot of <em>Princess Diaries</em>, since I'm sure most of you will remember the awkward-girl-finding-out-she's-royalty-and-thus-precipitating-the-ensuing-makeover-montage plot. Also at 13 I kind of resembled pre-makeover Anne Hathaway (my mom, in movie theatre: "But her hair was so much prettier before!"), so I definitely projected my own fugly, lower-income-ness onto the story. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>10). <em>American Pie</em>. </div><div></div><div></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 224px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 430px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.llp.armstrong.edu/reese/courses/4700/ray/pie.jpg" /></div><div>AND FINALLY, the mother of all tween movies. Embarassingly, in the start of high school when every class would play the introduction-game, I would always name this raunchy flick as my favorite film. Other kids might name <em>Star Wars</em>, random anime, one ambitious kid even named <em>The Godfather--</em> but no, I named <em>American Pie</em> all the way. The perviest of the pervy, this movie made this quasi-nymphomaniac 8th grader (but weren't we all nymphomaniacs at that age?) double up in laughter every time. Even though it only garnered a 59% on the tomatometer, damn, this must be the best teen comedy of ALL TIME. It also led to a few obvious iconic... what do you call them, statements? phrases? Before Borat's "Izzz niiice, I like" there was, "This one time, at band camp..." So good, so very, very good. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>And there you have it! A break from Godardian pretension and the closest thing to a Catholic confession that I've ever had. MOVIES THAT OBJECTIVELY SUCKED THAT I NOT-SO-SECRETLY LOVED IN MY TWEEN YEARS. The End.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-42615366371928627722010-06-16T16:40:00.003-05:002010-06-17T01:01:54.056-05:00"Wearable Art"Works by Nick Cave-- the Chicago-based artist, not the musician. I started googling this man after seeing him in the June Harper's (one of my favorite issues, yet, by the way, and not only because the main article is about Chicago, sort of!). What incredible pieces! I cannot wait to see some of his works at the Walker when I visit Minneapolis for the first time later this summer.<br /><br />p.s. new blog format/layout... thoughts? too cheesy? I'm changing the headline soon, but am iffy about the overly pretentious (or too busy) background. If it's offensive to anyone, do let me know.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EjzYehVO2Tc/SXNXcokv2DI/AAAAAAAADgU/TwMK76t0Zt8/s400/Nick_Cave_Soundsuit_2008_1210_73.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EjzYehVO2Tc/SXNXcokv2DI/AAAAAAAADgU/TwMK76t0Zt8/s400/Nick_Cave_Soundsuit_2008_1210_73.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fifty2weeks.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/nick_cave_soundsuit_2009_1329_73.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://fifty2weeks.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/nick_cave_soundsuit_2009_1329_73.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://feltworks.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/cavesoundsuit_800.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 378px; height: 503px;" src="http://feltworks.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/cavesoundsuit_800.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://vivalemani.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/nickcave_7.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 495px; height: 331px;" src="http://vivalemani.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/nickcave_7.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://vivalemani.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/nickcavesoundsuit.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 334px; height: 500px;" src="http://vivalemani.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/nickcavesoundsuit.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614462637791786216.post-13712938760562806962010-06-10T00:16:00.003-05:002010-06-10T00:40:43.251-05:00OndineI rarely seem to enjoy movies that rank below a 70 on Rottentomatoes, but Neil Jordan's <span style="font-style: italic;">Ondine</span>, which garnered a mere 60-something, blew me away. Though a film not without its problems, <span style="font-style: italic;">Ondine </span>managed to remain riveting regardless. Of course, having two of the most beautiful people in the world as each other's love interest always helps:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.daemonsmovies.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/ondine-colinfarrell_alicjabachledacurus2-499x267.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 382px; height: 205px;" src="http://www.daemonsmovies.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/ondine-colinfarrell_alicjabachledacurus2-499x267.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Ondine</span> crosses the strange line between Thriller and Fantasty with some trepidation. A fisherman off a small coastal (Irish?) town gathers his nets one day and finds an incredibly attractive woman, unconscious, within them. After a bit of soft-core-porn-esque CPR, Colin Farrell, alias "Syracuse," reanimates her. Soon he realizes that she--who is now named "Ondine-- brings him good fishing luck, seemingly from singing to the fishes, siren-like. The term "Ondine" is actually the name of an ancient type of Water Nymph. Fitting, since throughout the film Ondine is believed to be an Irish mythological creature called a Selkie, which is a seal that sheds its skin to become human. Mythological thematic elements run deep, and are the most arresting parts of the film.<br /><br />In fact, so beautiful are these mythological asides that the thriller aspect of this film, which occurs more than halfway in, seems less developed and almost haphazard. It's as if the director, after painstakingly laboring away at the brilliant and lovely first half, gave up and created a heavy-handed and painful realistic framework, but concluded it with a saccharine but unconvincing<span style="font-style: italic;"> deus ex machina</span> ending. Of course, the ending is what the audience wants, so one leaves satisfied, for the most part. But I couldn't help but wish that the entire movie was formulated around a tragically beautiful Hans Christian Anderson-esque love story set on the Irish coast. Thrillers are a dime a dozen, but a <span style="font-style: italic;">believable</span> fantasy for a pessimist like myself is hard to pull off, and Neil Jordan seems to accomplish it with great panache, especially in the first half.<br /><br />Seeing two attractive people fall in love is always, at least subconsciously, pleasant, but the truly great aspect of the film came from a young actress named Alison Barry, who is so unknown that she doesn't yet have a wikipedia page of her own (someone please remedy this soon?). Alison plays Annie, Syracuse/Farrell's precocious young (perhaps 12-year old?) daughter, who has a chronic illness and seems to always be on the brink of death, yet manages to outwit every adult in her path and quote <span style="font-style: italic;">Alice in Wonderland</span>, as if looking for a dreamland of her own. Such a wonderful character, and even quite a talented (albeit unfortunately unknown!) actress.<br /><br />All in all, certainly a worthy movie of one's ten bucks at the local cineplex. <span style="font-style: italic;">Ondine </span>is not without serious storytelling issues but is nonetheless a sincere and lovely little film, even with the odd thriller-fantasy genre. Also mentions a variety of important issues, such as indie music (Sigur Ros? What?), illness, reality v. fiction, coastal culture (<span style="font-style: italic;">Ponyo</span> much?), severe alcoholism, (bad) parenting, poverty, religion, drug abuse... etc. Surprising and refreshing for what seems at first to be a mere romantic fantasy. It really is a "touching" story, and I'm not normally such a sap (I also despise the word "touching," but here it really seems to fit best in context, I apologize). It opens this weekend, so see it while it's around!Julia Alekseyevahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10442733784488828051noreply@blogger.com1