Synecdoche, New York

Just finished watching Synecdoche, New York and I have to say that for much of the picture, I didn't know what to think, what to feel. I was lost, insensitive to the toilings of the characters, their own struggles with being lost in their infinitely small moment of consciousness. The tiny paintings of Adele (Catherine Keener's character) seem to best exemplify this notion that is so dear to the Carl Sagan in me, the mark we make on the universe is so small that it is ever-rapidly approaching insignificance. Yet, insignificance is only what we make it.
This is the first movie to make me cry in a long time, because I felt the real, coursing arterial of ravenous hunger for love and connectedness. We make ourselves a synecdoche of our own desires, but not a true representation, rather a truncation. We cut ourselves off at the head before we are fully grown to flower.
Charlie Kaufman again writes a tale so close to the real heart of the plural singular, but it is depressing. The turpitude with which it sails across the room to my eyes is painful, for it is all too real, too self-reflective.
Luckily, I have The Day The Earth Stood Still left to watch so I don't feel like hanging myself quite yet.

Foot in Mouth Disease

I don't normally write much about politics, because I am an emotionally-charged layperson in many aspects of political discussion. However, I was reading this article about Obama pledging to work towards Nuclear Disarmament and felt slightly irked about one thing. A world without Nukes is a great idea and a fantastic reality, if achieved, but I also think that safety in the world, for the world's entire populaces (human and beyond) could be even more fully achieved through a deeper disarmament than just Nuclear. Is it not blisteringly clear to most sentient beings that a world without Nukes is still a wholly brutal, vicious and unsafe world??? You know how much more fucking damage we can inflict upon each other and the future with so-called conventional weapons? Just something to think over...and then scream HIPPIE!!! in my face.

Even though I'm not one. A Hippie, that is. I might actually be a Conservative Buddhist/Shintoist. Who knows.

Vin Scully

So, today I'm listening to some games on mlb.com and I decided to check out the Dodgers' afternoon game. I forgot how enjoyable Vin Scully is to listen to. He and Dave Niehaus are about the same age, but Scully doesn't sound lost in a haze of senility behind the mic. No offense Dave, but you gotta hang it up. You sound like a post-stroke victim trying to learn how to construct full sentences all over again. Meanwhile, Scully still sounds smooth and informed. Transitionally, Scully will ride over speedbumps without an audible hiccup. Besides, it's quite entertaining to listen to somebody in his 80's call Orlando Hudson the "O-Dog".

Quick Notes on New Records in Gabelicious Land

As I continue to delve further into the realm of Neo-Classical seratonin uptake assisters, I am easily falling for the slow cello laments of Hildur Gudnadottir's Without Sinking. Also, Nalepa's new rekkid Flatlands is pure bass and bubble genius. "Fourth of July" is the out-and-out winner track on this album, with it's skittery, almost haunting tone and approach to low-key dancefloor aesthetics.

And keep your eyes peeled for my next review at the Silent Ballet of The Alps dual-EP release A Path Through The Sun/A Path Through The Moon. Glorious droney psychedelia.

Getting the car fixed

Can actually save you from a small heartache. I was watching the Sox-Rays game today on NESN (for some reason, I get all the Fox Sports affiliate baseball channels. no complaints, in fact rejoicing, but it is strange) and in the 9th, the Sox made it look not only interesting, but downright possible for a walk-off win. By bringing the winning run to the plate with David Ortiz, there were thoughts of 2004 postseason walk-off heroics. It didn't happen, just like so many other times in baseball that the averages rule out over the whimsy of hometown fan dreams. Even if I'm not really a hometown fan.

So, having AAA show up just as this was going down saved me one more fit in front of the TV and maybe helps me to learn to mellow out and take this long, crazy season a game at a time. I easily get wrapped up in overthinking the significance of each game, while discovering new string theories of expletives. Thanks, then, to AAA for getting me outside to look at my car, which might need a new alternator, might not? Is the battery toast? Who knows....A man named Tony knows and he's going to right all that is wrong with Suby-Sue (my car).

Now, if I could get Tony to work on Jacoby Ellsbury's swing and plate discipline.........

Steam escaping the ears, blood dripping from the nose...

...are just a couple of the most common symptoms of Fantasy Baseball Transient Ischemic Attack Syndrome (FBTIAS, not yet recognized by the DSM-IV or other medical journals/reference materials). This generally happens here at Team Mondesi when Gil Meche and Edwin Jackson, two of our young guns we hope to rely on for another successful year, gift-wrap us 6 and 7-inning gems only to have their real-life bullpens shit the bed. What's most interesting about this physiological disorder is that it kicks in only when the lines of reality and fantasy cross and the neurons firing for the separate purposes spark an illogical communication within the brain and triggers the mental and physical side-effects. See, the Detroit and Kansas City bullpens both blew leads after the starters (aforementioned Meche & Jackson) had shut down the opposing teams for ample inning outings. In fantasy, this only screws Team Mondesi out of a 2 in the win column. However, the fear and irrationality that leads to FBTIAS is that not only do we lose those 2 W's, but that the psychological effects on the real pitchers could impede their progress in their next starts. For more information, please refer to last night's post on Jason Motte.

Fortunately, the Red Sox and M's real bullpens have performed quite nicely in the last couple of outings.

A few hours later??? I'm kicking myself, because as a baseball fan, I should know better than to compliment the new M's bullpen before they're done BLOWING A LEAD AND THE GAME
!!! (just about midnight, punching myself in the gonads for being so stoopid)

Mere minutes away from memories.

This gentle soul, igniter of my passion for baseball, is coming up to bat 5th in the order as soon as they get underway in the Twinkie Dome.
Also, just saw the new M's commercial with Ichiro retiring the pitching machine and it is classic Mariners' commercial humor. Kudos to the writing corps at M's Marketing Headquarters!


HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTT!!!!!
Griffey just parked one above the baggy at the Metro Dome for his 612th career bomb and possibly 47th on Opening Day!! Feels like ol' times already.

Soon to be joining the ranks of the unemployed?

So, I'm not a Cardinals fan (don't dislike them either), but I just watched Jason Motte blow a 2-run lead and possible first save for my fantasy baseball team (and the real-life Cards, of course). Now, I actually got a little emotionally invested in this event and am mulling over handing Motte his pink slip from Club Mondesi (my team name is Foul Odyssey of Raul Mondesi). I'll have to talk to the General Manager and Department of Scouting first, but Motte's ass is on thin ice and I'm a blowtorch of an owner...


...and it's only Opening Day.