Yeah, Jean Luc can choke on a stiff one. You don't have to believe your "intellectual" boyfriends ladies, that shit has always sucked. Watch those movies, REALLY watch them, with fresh eyes and ears. Choose Agnes Varda, if you must. So yesterday was it. The big awesomeness known as the Mika Miko Jessica Hopper rager at the Santa Monica City Library. Stacy and I also went to the Skylight Reading later that night. I took Jessica to the airport and we bro'd down. Man, it's rad to know cool people. I know that sounds trite, but it's true. I feel like i drivel on and on and on constantly about what a genius Jessica is and what an amazing soldier she is for the good fight. Keep fighting, the war is raging in your own backyard! click here and buy this shit! Just say no to sexism.
ps. if you are curious to read about sexism in the french new wave heres a pretty easy to understand essay that sort of sums it up. jonathan rosenbaum kind of wrote the book on this though. It's an incredible essay called, Sexism in the french new wave- aptly titled! but its super long and heady and you might want your webster's at your side, but if you are determined to get through it, it's quite excellent and one of my favorite essays i read in undergrad, you can google it and it'll come up. in the meantime, this gets to the meat of the thing without the academic hangover. don't u hate those? clicka me puhleaze!
Jessica's readings were today and they were amazing- more on that when I'm less sleepy- she talked about the importance of building a community and bringing music to all people, that it was healing and should not be exclusive. Anyhow, it made me think of these two little luvs. One time I aked Chris why he wasn't working on a book or trying harder to freelance and he answered, "because im trying to build something bigger." It was a nice moment. click here for total mind expansion
I've been on vacation for two weeks. I came back from Mexico, had one day at home, spent it with Biz, and then my mom came that night and we headed up the coast to attend a family wedding. My best and oldest friend, and actually more like a sister than anything else, we've known each other since we were wee small things, got married in the Santa Cruz Redwoods. Being that we are like sisters, I have given this poor human more grief than any person deserves, so I put on my big girl face and trudged up there, to help in any way I could. Being selfless doesn't come easy to me. Not to mention that I don't believe in marriage for historical and political reasons- sorry girlfriends, yes, even really good girlfriends, I will probably be the shittiest helper when it comes to your weddings and not the excited soul that you deserve- BUT if any two people on earth can make this big sham called marriage work, there are no two finer people than Nandi-, ahem, ANANDA and Jessie- probably the two nicest most wonderful souls who ever set foot into the world of matrimony, my love for them is boundless and I am so blessed and honored that they let me join, and that they trusted me to behave and not spread my self absorbed bad news butter all over the place. Two finer people really don't exist. Nandi, this one song, for me, has always been about you:
And then came the wedding weekend and every fiber of my being had to fight turning into this:
A giant celebration unequivocally not about me in any way shape or form. I am Nandi's Rachel, have been since the beginning of time and I am so lucky she hasn't thrown me out on my ass. To a normal person not acting this way would seem obvious and natural, and totally, why would you even want to? But let me tell, you, i am touched in a stoopid way. It was a challenge. Nandi, I love you. ps, Charlotte, you're still the only one for me.
Basically just an excuse to post this video. Telepathe is the shit.
Busy's moving to LA. I can't fucking wait. Brooklyn's so 2003. I kid, I love Brooklyn, but I don't love broken busted street umbrella skeletons, smushed up puked in pizza boxes and sun bleached chicken bones on the subway. How does that even happen?
If you want me to write something for you and have a dictionary i can use, say my name at write (dot) ndarling (at) gmail (dot) com but for reals, i'm profesh.
Oh, and don't send things to my LA Record account. I don't write there no more!