attrition: advisory errata archive vendor_fail news charlatan lazlo security_comp_fail going_postal rant box_of_shit movie_review book_review music_review contest buy_shit
twitter: technical_difficulties unsolicited_updates foursquare wefollow musings imdb dmfail
hobbies: critter_of_the_day squirrel guinea_pig stalking
related: osf datalossdb conference osvdb
type: quote screenshot photo video tweet audio question chat link
cji:
Last night I watched what was probably the most depressing movie I’ve seen since Requiem for a Dream (which was depressing because the Jennifer Connolley scenes weren’t longer). “Precious” is about a sixteen-year-old African American girl, played by newcomer Gabourey Sidibe, growing up in Harlem in 1987. Every time you think “Wow, this girl has the worst life ever”, the plot adds something else to show you how it could, in fact, be worse. First the obvious: she looks dangerously obese (supported by her eating habits of fried chicken and pigs feet). Then you meet her mother, who beats her until she’s unconscious. And then you learn this sixteen-year-old is not only pregnant, but has another baby already - with Down Syndrome. Oh, and both times she got pregnant due to being raped. By her father. The downward spiral doesn’t end there, but I’ll keep from spoiling most of it.
A movie so thick, so saturated with awkwardness, Freud would die of a massive stroke. Twice.
In a nutshell: The oldest of five brings his fiance Meredith home for the holidays to meet the family. And like a shower of sparks in a densely packed fireworks factory, with magnesium walls and a floor soaked with jet fuel, things go from bad to catastrophic with masterful precision.
What the books lack, the film provides amply—visuals. The cast—finally, we can finally put a face, a person, clearly onto the characters. Especially the leads, Bella and Edward, and the actors do not disappoint. Music—the score is spot-on.
Read Mo—————
Wait, WHAT? Ok, as resident Web 2.0 Mistress, I’m obligated to post this news item. But …. <checks contract> … Nope! I’m not obligated to post without comment!
Twilight scares the shit out of me, and not in a good way. Protip to girls of “this demographic”:
This is a vamipre. You can tell because it looks like he wants to fuck you, then kill you.
This is also a vamipre. Again: Fucking, killing.
Hell, even this is a vampire. Definitely with the killing, probably not so into the other bit.
This, however, is a sparkly metaphor on the value of a woman’s purity.
“Yes, it has a good soundtrack, even if you don’t spend all of your free time wandering the Mall. (including Decode—one of two Paramore cuts)”
Listen, I met “Paramore” at Warp Tour in 2004 when their manager was working on rebranding them from a Christian pop band to whatever the hell they are now. They were not nice to my friend who was also on tour, because she’s a riot grrrl dyke and proud of it. Guess whose side I come down on in that argument. You wouldn’t know this from all the money MTV has spent at building that brand, but they used to be one of those “one hand in the air, one hand on your heart, praise Jesus” bands. Yes, really.
So fiiiine. Read More…. if you must.