So You Think You Don't Like Poetry

Disclaimer: this poem is kind of a downer...but hey, it's February, one of the more dreary months of the year, so what do you expect. Besides, I happen to love depressing literature -- I once took a seminar in college called "Doomed Love in the Western World," taught by a bitter divorcee. The syllabus included Anna Karenina, House of Mirth, Antony and Cleopatra and Madame Bovary. It was a barrel of laughs.

Without further ado, I give you "Rain" by Don Paterson, which appeared in the New Yorker in 2008. It's especially appropriate given that the Oscar nominations were announced yesterday.

Rain

I love all films that start with rain:
rain, braiding a windowpane
or darkening a hung-out dress
or streaming down her upturned face;

one long thundering downpour
right through the empty script and score
before the act, before the blame,
before the lens pulls through the frame

the woman sits alone
beside a silent telephone
or the dress lies ruined in the grass
or the girl walks off the overpass,

and all things flow out from that source
along their fatal watercourse.
However bad or overlong
such a film can do no wrong,

so when his native twang shows through
or when the boom dips into view
or when her speech starts to betray
its adaptation from the play,

I think to when we opened cold
on a rain-dark gutter, running gold
with the neon of a drugstore sign,
and I'd read into its blazing line:

forget the ink, the milk, the blood--
all was washed clean with the flood
we rose up from the fallings waters
the fallen rain's own sons and daughters

and none of the this, none of this matters.

Seymour Philip Hoffman and other memorable Oscar moments

Well, well, well. Another Oscars down and overall, I was pretty entertained. Some of the production choices were questionable and as always, the number of montages was excessive, but the live broadcast seemed to go smoothly and there weren't too many surprises.

In my betting pool, folks were unanimously outraged by Bruce Springsteen's snub, since his song for "The Wrestler" was awesome. A song from "Slumdog Millionaire" called something like "Giant Ho" took the award. We were split on Mickey vs. Sean, and although I was rooting for Mickey, I correctly predicted Sean's win. Initially, I was outraged at the "Council of Elders" format for the acting awards (thanks to Andrew W. for that genius description) and then once I realized how moving/meaningful it was to the nominees, I decided it was a good change. I guess this is really more about them then my viewing pleasure.

But Barbara Walters interviewing the Jonas Brothers? And Beyonce's lip-synching? And Alan Arkin's Best Supporting Actor tribute to "Seymour Philip Hoffman"? Kind of inexcusable, even if PSH was wearing a knit cap with his formal wear. And you know that curtain gaffe in the opening moments right before the Best Supporting Actress montage got somebody fired. That's maybe what I like best about the Oscars-- all the little moments where you know the PAs backstage are shitting their pants.

Anyway, I was psyched for Kate, a little sad for Mickey, pleased with Angelina's accessories, and delighted with Hugh's opening musical number even though he lost steam later on.

Top Five Favorite Dresses/Looks:

1. Taraji P. Henson -- can I borrow this dress for my wedding?

2. Alicia Keys


3. Anne Hathaway. I'm not a huge fan of her acting, but girlfriend looked gorgeous.


4. Meryl Streep. I mean, as entertaining as it is when Meryl shows up in some random frumpy outfit because she doesn't expect to win, I appreciate it when she puts in the effort.


5. Robert Downey, Jr. I'M SO EXCITED FOR SHERLOCK HOLMES!

Yum. If I weren't lazy, I'd photoshop his wife out of the picture, but I guess I'll just have to mentally erase her for now.