Grace

Today for some reason I am thinking of Jeff Buckley.



I believe the culprit of this is the fact that James Franco is in about three million movies and is Jeff Buckley's doppelganger.



I am reacquainting myself with Jeff's album Grace, which I haven't listened to since about 2001. I bought it because of the near-obscene beauty of his cover of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah." Jeff Buckley drowned when he was 30, I think the day before he was supposed to be starting on his second album. So suddenly, of course, he became the Next Big Thing Tragically Lost. Everyone was a fan. Now all the tribute sites talk about his vision, his passion, his unswerving dedication to staying true to his music, etc, ad nauseum. It's incredible, the rosy sheen that a early death can rub on a life. I'm not sure that Jeff Buckley was the Tortured Angel Genius that the tribute sites would have you believe. He was kind of a diva. He broke up bands. His music is sometimes wildly inconsistent. I am glad that I heard "Hallelujah" before I knew his story, so that when I would hear it and I would actually shush people so that they could hear it too I know that it was because it moved me and not because he was the Last Great Hope or something. Because isn't that what it's all about? Isn't it a little disgusting that art and music and writing become so much more precious when the artist is dead? Does the art not ever stand for itself? It's an odd phenomenon. What is the connection between art and death? Why does death create genius? I recently discussed with a friend how unsettling I find it, this tendency of people to align themselves with tragedy. When someone dies, friends and fans come out of the woodwork. There are hugs and there is sympathy to go around and people want in on it. So albums, movies, books sell out. And everyone claims to have been a fan before.

I don't think I'm going anywhere with this rambley post, really. I just had some stuff on my mind and if I can't put it on my blog, where can I put it? Maybe it's a carpe diem kind of a thing. Oh drink a bit of wine we both might go tomorrow (to probably misquote Jeff Buckley himself). If any of you people haven't heard Jeff Buckley, you should. But not because he's dead. Because his voice will break your heart.

Which Polyhedral Are You?

No use trying to fight it, you're an eight-sided die, a d8. A fine example of simple elegance, the d8 is one of the least appreciated types of dice, and is often neglected. You are known to be quiet and shy, outward traits that conceal viscous sarcasm and mean wit. You are very smart, yet wise enough to hide your intelligence the quicker they found out how smart you are, the sooner they'll put you to work, which is something you can do without. People call you dark and pessimistic, or moody and cynical. You find little point in arguing.

http://dicepool.com/catalog/quiz.php

I don't know. I don't think that sounds anything like me...

Tut Tut

Sigh. I've decided that the gods are angry with me for ignoring my blog and all three of my loyal readers. This is why I fell down on the rainy sidewalk today (skinned foot and knee, wet butt). This is why my local Vision Video doesn't rent "Angel" (must wait for friggin' Netflix). This is why I can't find love. All because of this blog. Well, fans, you must thank the gods for subtley forcing me to renew my Good Works of entertaining the masses. And, also, for the following formal apology for waiting so damn long:

Constant Reader,

I don't know what came over me. I hope that my future incoherent scribblings will make up for the dearth of same for the last month. My only excuse (and brace yourself, because this redefines flimsy) is that I was "busy." Please accept my most humble apologies and feast your hungry eyes on the following Mother of all Blogs.

Love,
Amy

1. Christmas
Was in Savannah for the longest continuous stretch since Christmas in, like, 2001 or something. It was pleasant if a bit melancholy. I was nursing a broken heart and couldn't quite shake that "You can't go home again" feeling. But all things considered, it was an enjoyable holiday. There was ultimate and disc golf, a celebration of the New Year on which I made out w/ a champagne bottle, oyster harvesting, marathons of Buffy, Firefly, and The Gilmore Girls, football (Go Dawgs!), the receipt of a digital camera (which will lead to photos on the blog as soon as I find Technological Nirvana), and several trips to the movies. Oh, and please, if you take nothing else away from this post, please note that you cannot, under any circumstances save parting w/ your firstborn, rent a car at Enterprise only going one way. I hate being stationary.

2. Satan Shoes
I bought these shoes from Target. They have caused me to a) fall down in the middle of a street at night in Madrid; b) fall down in front of one of the Boys I Have A Crush On; c) fall down on a rainy sidewalk (though that could have been the gods, see above) while running for a bus; d) fall down at the movies. Treacherous but cute, these shoes. Any advice from the general public?

3. Because it's good for you to expand your personal lexicon:
velleity (vuh-lee-it-tee): n, 1. volition at its lowest level. 2. a mere wish or inclination
This pretty much describes my general approach to the law right now. Like, I totally want to want to do it enough to do it. This is the best word in the English language and we don't use it. Begs the question: why isn't there a word for coolness that corresponds to the word "warmth?"

4. Contestant No. Twelve: Ziyi Zhang
There are several reasons to have "China's gift to Hollywood" on this list. Homegirl is stunning. She studied dance and translated that into quite the career in martial arts movies (if you haven't seen Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon or House of Flying Daggers please proceed immediately to your nearest rental establishment). Her first Hollywood lead required her to speak English, which she did not previously know, in a Japanese accent. She's learned to fan dance, geisha style. She's only a year older than me. I'm impressed with this woman. Thoughts? Feelings?

5. Oscar
My kitty is getting neutered on Valentine's Day. I felt it was appropriate.

6. Freaks and Geeks
Was canceled because those who would identify with it continue to be disenfranchised by the frat boys that run the networks. Everyone should see this show. That means you.

And that concludes our whirlwind trip around Amy's brain. I know it wasn't the most riveting of posts, but I thought it would keep your whistle wet until I can pour you another. I love love love stretching metaphors to the point that they break!