bite me
Twilight the movie was plagued by bad hair, awkward silent moments, and sometimes barren-looking sets, but I liked it more than the book. The reason, in four words: less mush, more cuties.
In the book, there were numerous “stay away from me I’m dangerous” lines, endless arguments about who loves the other more, and more references to Edward’s beauty than I can count. I’m just glad the filmmakers reduced those moments to about two each, because as much as I appreciate romance, Twilight the book takes it to new heights. Machu Picchu heights. In the end you just feel like throwing up.
And then there’s Robert Pattinson, who played Edward.
I didn’t find him that handsome (don’t kill me), but he did have his moments. Like when he was wearing shades then grinned then put his arms around Bella. I appreciate him more when he smiles, basically, because sometimes his “intense” looks feel contrived. That guy who played Jasper was cute too, but that’s probably because I’ve always liked the Jasper character. I like the silent, tortured ones. Hihi.
All in all, I thought the movie was…okay. I was kind of more excited by the trailer of Underworld: Rise of the Lycans which I saw before Twilight began. Now there’s a nice, dirty vampire versus werewolves movie. Num.
click
I’m in love with Jimmy Page again. Dear God, why wasn’t I born in 50s London (or San Francisco, but that’s another story)?
See, I finally managed to buy “Hammer of the Gods,” that Led Zeppelin bio by Stephen Davis that I had previously blogged about. I haven’t listened to Led Zep in what feels like ages–about two years ago I realized that I had to move on, at least a little bit, and stop living in the past, haha–but reading just the first few pages makes me want to download even The Yardbirds tracks.
I love how Davis just drops the names of the greats and expects you to get it. To illustrate (boldface, my own):
A few weeks later, after one of the Marquee blues jams, Page was approached by a young guitarist with a London band called Roosters. He said that he thought Jimmy sounded a lot like Matthew Murphy, then playing with Memphis Slim. Jimmy was flattered. The guitarist introduced himself: “My name’s Eric Clapton.” (p. 15)
Coincidentally, a guitarist named Eddie Phillips with an English group called Creation (bass guitar: Ron Wood) was already bowing his electric guitar in London at the time. (p. 23)
I don’t claim to know every Led Zep track ever recorded since I listened to them at the time that I was also busy devouring music from other classic rock pioneers–The Who, The Doors, etc–but I loved the few tracks that I used to constantly listen to.
I had to stop reading at page 27 and put the book down because, um, I had gotten too nostalgic. See, it mentioned the 1966 film Blow-Up which we saw in Film 175 class. That movie, while weirdly fascinating, had seriously boring moments, and near the end we were all feeling antsy because we just wanted it to end. But suddenly there comes this nightclub scene. There is a band. And who’s playing the guitar? Jimmy-fkin-Page. I was immediately shaken out of my stupor, but no one else in the class seemed to notice that it was The Yardbirds playing.
Ah, college.
Anyway, interesting post-House moment yesterday. And today! Too many distractions. I swear, my life is becoming stranger and stranger.
in pop culture news (or, the post with lots of italics and parentheses)
>> I saw a Led Zeppelin biography for P95 on BookSale tonight, “Hammer of the Gods.” But I let it go. I’m still debating within myself whether I regret the decision.
>> I’ve finished the entire Twilight series. It’s okay. I don’t like Renesmee, the half-vampire kid who grows at an alarmingly fast rate and is pre-destined to spend the rest of her life with a werewolf who acts as her nanny while she’s still a kid. How can you not dislike her? She’s a half-vampire kid who grows at an alarmingly fast rate and is pre-destined to spend the rest of her life with a werewolf who acts as her nanny while she’s still a kid. And her name is Renesmee. Ick.
>> Over the weekend I saw the following on DVD: Planet Terror (it’s so bastos and hilariously tongue-in-cheek I loooove it), Teeth (a tastefully-made nightmare for guys), and the laughable In the Name of the King (starring Jason Statham who is kinda like Bruce Willis minus the endearing smugness). I found them lying around the den.
>> Okay, this prolly doesn’t count as pop culture, but I’m writing this down for record-keeping’s sake: girls’ night out with old and new friends last Friday night, first at Nine Ball in Tomas Morato then at Esquinita near ABS-CBN. Twas nice to just chill and talk. Got home 2 a.m.
>> Gossip Girl is back! I adore Evil Serena. Go give that insensitive poet (how ironic) Dan hell. I kind of hate how it’s turning out for Blair, though. But I guess one kingdom can’t have two queens (I can so imagine Kristin Bell’s voice saying that).
>> House MD is back! And it was kind of disappointing. Why am I disappointed? Maybe I was just too let-down by what happened last season. Why did Amber have to diiiieeee? Bring back happy Wilson! And give more scenes to Chase and Cameron, for crying out loud.
>> The Office is back! Jim’s proposal beats the hell out of…everyone else’s. He asks Pam to meet him for lunch, they meet at a convenience store by a gas station, she rushes out to complain about how far she traveled, and then in the rain he goes down on one knee and asks her to marry him. Are you kidding me are you kidding me. I love how unexpected and honest that was (and New York magazine did too yey!), even though it was so obvious that the writers were trying to make it look like it it was no big deal even though they totally knew it was. And oh, Ryan’s ambitiousness used to be endearing, but now he is just a scumbag.
we are mere mortal girls
I have officially been reduced into a mindless, screaming fan-girl.
I have finished the first three books in the Twilight series,with one book per day. Yes, I can read that fast. It’s both a gift and a curse.
Anyway, I think the series is overrated. I think Stephenie Meyer is no J.K. Rowling; Meyer can’t create a magical world the way Rowling did, and I’m not just saying that because Harry Potter was about magic. I think the scenes and words in the Twilight series don’t scream originality; there was hardly a moment when I cracked up or felt any overwhelmingly strong reaction, and the mush can be too much…
But hell, reading the series makes you gradually shut down your brain. And you do so voluntarily. It’s almost scary.
I couldn’t stop turning the pages. I don’t know if it was just my subconscious insisting that I be “in the know,” but despite my better judgment I found myself losing sleep over the books. Gaaah. Tomorrow I’ll go to Fully Booked again and buy the last of the series, “Breaking Dawn.”
A moment ago I searched for the movie trailer on Youtube and found myself letting out a little shriek. Because of the romance. Ahaha.
Here’s the so-called official trailer, in high-def:
And here’s the somewhat more romantic trailer, focused on Bella (Kristen Stewart) and Edward (Robert Pattinson–yup, Cedric Diggory in the Harry Potter movies):
I was so thrilled I actually dialed Weng’s home number just to tell her about it. I haven’t used my landline in months to call anyone I know from college, but she’s my only Twilight buddy…last week we actually braved the storm to meet up so I can borrow “New Moon” and “Eclipse” and talk about how we have been enslaved. Enslaved, I tell you.
Weng has a rather interesting theory as to why this is: she speculates that, perhaps, we’ve simply grown tired of all the pseudo-intellectual reading stuff we were accustomed to that we are willing to disregard all of Twilight’s flaws and fall for its most basic pulling factor: unapologetic all-out romance. The Great W even has an analogy; she likens our situation to wearing killer heels that make us feel all great and sexy, but at the end of the day we settle for nice, comfy slippers that don’t require any effort to wear.
Hmm.
In “real life” news, there are, shall we say, interesting developments all around. Oh, I still do know know what I want to do with my life. I’m–to borrow from The Strokes’ song “The Modern Age”–just rolling in the ocean. Not necessarily a bad thing.
catching up
This week I bought four books: three from BookSale, and one from Fully Booked.
yes i caved in to the 'twilight' fad. sue me.
The books from BookSale, I got for only P40 each yey:
1. Dreamside by English speculative fiction writer Graham Joyce, about two couples exploring “lucid dreaming”–the art/science of being able to control your own dreams–and how their experiments spun out of control. It’s good, and kind of spooky; I finished it in a day.
2. ‘80 by Whit Johnston, about New York in 1980 told through the eyes of an undiscovered yet talented photographer. So far I’ve only read about 30 percent of the book, but I’m already liking the pop culture references (the Yippies’ Abbie Hoffman, Conde Nast, etc) inserted within the fictional photographer’s insightful diary entries.
3. Emily’s Reasons Why Not by Carrie Gerlach, about a 20-something looking for *drumroll please* love. I’ve yet to start reading it.
And then from Fully Booked I got Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. Yes, I joined the bandwagon. It actually wasn’t so hard, not like how I felt when I decided to buy skinny jeans, haha. If I end up liking it, I’ll buy the rest of the books in the series next week. I’m pretty sure I will though, because what’s not to love about a vampire love story? Hihi.
uninspired
It’s like every night since this week started I get this overwhelming urge to drink expensive coffee alone and just stare off into space.
Or read. Get lost in a book til ‘morning. I’ve been buying a lot of magazines and shit, but I miss really reading. I still haven’t finished Haruki Murakami’s “Norwegian Wood,” which I began like two months back. I did, however, recently finish Nick Hornby’s “High Fidelity” in two days, but that’s mainly because I like all the music talk, plus I have an ulterior motive: to find out why cool men cheat on women they like/love. Don’t ask. Anyway. I also tried to watch the movie version, but first few minutes into it and I already couldn’t stand John Cusack’s incessant talking to the camera.
You know what I’ve been looking for since February? Anything by Jack Kerouac. Preferably “On the Road.” Because I’ll prolly never get over the whole Beatnik and hippie eras. I settled for Ken Kesey’s “One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest” in March, but it’s not enough, and gah I don’t even remember if I finished it. Does anyone have anything by Jack Kerouac? Please?
I’m also strangely craving for anything about vampires, but the Anne rice novels I find in book sales are the ones whose stories I already know because they’ve been adapted into movies (Interview with the Vampire, Queen of the Damned); I don’t want to spend money buying new ones. There’s this teen vampire series “Twilight” that’s all the rage these days, and frankly I’m curious, but not curious enough to want to shell out money. At least for now.
It’s only been three days but I feel like a zombie. I miss jolly, giggly me. I miss my raucous laughter. I miss friends from different circles. I also miss spontaneous road trips. And going out for coffee and other stuff past midnight just because my friends and I feel like it. I miss some drinks and lots of deafening music. I miss long talks and walks.
End of incoherent rant.
