Malaria pills and movies

What happens to people who think too much about not thinking?

What happens in the first hour after we realize the sun has gone out? How many casualties?

Why don't I care?

Because I hate philosophy class with a burning passion, and Daoism even more (I used to like it, and then I read the text and I cried tears of blood). So here's to being completely crass and unapologetic about it!

For example, I can tell you guys that I saw Tropic Thunder and I laughed a lot and swore even more and felt like a bit of a redneck and it was fun. I've also seen such gems as Tank Girl, which I suggest you Wikipedia.

Here's a snippet: "The Rippers turn out to be genetically enhanced super-soldiers who were infused with kangaroo DNA who were created by a scientist named Johnny Prophet during the war."

Yup. You read that right.

Anyways, I like Stupid Movies. I've probably written about this before, but it's as true now as it was then. I was discussing today whether or not movies can be art--and yeah, I think they can be. I've seen some really amazing films, and the level of work that went into them plus the level of thought they inspire really justify them being called "art". However, and this is the crucial however, they don't forgo being good, quality entertainment at the same time. I'm not saying they need to be humorous, entertainment in the most traditional sense. But they need to provoke thought and be a worthwhile escape from reality. That, for me, is the purpose of being "entertained".

Philosophy, on the other hand, is meant to be thought provoking. But movies and books that take a philosophical angle and then work the hell out of it really irritate me, because it feels suspiciously like I'm being forcefed something that's "good for me"--and it tastes bitter, even if it's wrapped in chocolate. Like malaria pills. It may do me good, but it's not something I'd call fun, no matter how you take it. I'd rather just have them straight, because otherwise they corrupt the flavor of the chocolate too.

And now the bad analogy (and the post) is over.

Fail cops meet win thieves...and get drunk

I realized I've been remiss in my Bollywood summaries. Why?

Because I forgot to include Dhoom.

Yeah. It's as awesome as the title implies. Dhoom is about a gang of unbeatable motorcycle-riding thieves, led by a male model who happens to be incredibly badass and also vaguely reminds me of Orlando Bloom, but less irritating.

Anyways, the gang of unbeatable motorcycle-riding thugs goes around stealing shitloads of cash and everyone across India is going, "ZOMG RLY?!?!?!" But they're not really surprised that their police force is shit, because the guy responsible for catching the gang opens the movie by engaging in a fake smexy-time song and dance with his way-too-hot-for-him wife. Obviously, this guy has better things to do than work. Duh.

And the guy realizes that in order to catch the gang, he's going to need someone who thinks like a biker (read: someone stupid enough to do all the work for him). He finds a superb motorcycle racer, who is feeling a wee bit upset: he was just beaten by the male model riding a rocket-powered bike. This racer, who is pretty good natured even if he's a bit of a scammer, winds up agreeing to help the cop. And so begins the epic.

There are several songs, one of which takes place in the rain, with random men who get out of their cabs just to dance backup. Another is actually a legit song, as it occurs at a concert. But it utilizes the Thriller dino-hand, so it's not all that legit. And in between all this musicality, the racer falls in love with the hot lady of the biker gang, the cop gets pwned a couple of times, and they all get completely sloshed at a New Year's party. The most epic part of this movie, however, is the climax. There's a huge chase scene on land and on water, the hot lady decides she kind of loves the fool racer, and in the end.....well, okay. I don't want to spoil the end for anybody who's planning on seeing the movie, because it's better unspoiled. Highlight the next few lines if you're not interested in watching but for some reason care what happens anyways.

Head baddie, who's got several million dollars on the back of his bike, is cornered by the cops. So what does he do? HE DRIVES HIS BIKE OFF A FUCKING CLIFF. WITH THE MONEY. All several million dollars go fluttering into the ocean in one of the biggest flip-offs I've ever seen in a movie. Why they don't fire the cops, I'm not sure, but you sort of have to sit back and admire the win.

It's a really special movie, and it's sort of a classic in the sense of, you can't really say you know Bollywood until you've seen it. So see it. It will rock your socks.

Legions of Rome, unite!

Oh, Ashy-Washy. Why?

There is a movie. In English. With Ashy-Washy. And Colin Firth. AND IT'S CALLED THE LAST LEGION.

Babes, you knew it was going to be good just from the title, right?

So it's basically like an Arthurian legend fuckover, which I don't mind because it's got Rome and sorcery and Ashy-Washy being a random Asian bodyguard-warrior-chick who shows up basically so Colin Firth, Roman general of fail, will have a fake love interest (more on that in a minute), which makes me laugh. And there's a legion called the Dragon Legion, and a magical sword--supposedly Julius Caesar's, but we all know that he was sleeping with the Lady of the Lake anyways--and a prophecy about the one destined to rule. It's like a spaztastic mix of everything I could ever ask for in a movie, including Ben Kingsley.

Basically, the little kid who is destined to rule hurls his sword into a stone and becomes Uther Pendragon, which is too bad because Uther was fucking crazy. The wise magician Ambrosinus becomes Merlin after somehow managing to combust his one "mortal enemy" Vortgyn (which I give them no credit for) who was not even vaguely threatening and was dispatched after about a minute of "combat". And Ashy-Washy and Colin Firth have a hugely romantic scene where they lie in a bed made of pelts together and STARE DEEP INTO EACH OTHER'S EYES WITHOUT TOUCHING.

AND THEN THE SCREEN FADES TO BLACK.

......Yeah. That's seriously it.

I suggest you go see this movie now, because despite all its fail (did I mention Colin's troops, which are in charge of protecting the regent, are protecting him on the night he is SLAUGHTERED?) it is actually just amazing and hilarious and REALLY BAD.

Go. You know you want to.

College major choice failure

I've known what I wanted to major in for several years now. And I'll admit that part of the reason I've known for so long is because it seemed rather inevitable--people talk to me and I try and be honest back because it seems like that's what they need. Generally, all three parts hold true.

Of course, once I figured out that I sort of like having people talk to me, I figured that being a psychologist meant I'd get to do that and not have to have an office job. Two for one, right? And most of the time, it's really something I can see myself doing. Except for occasionally, I feel like I have no idea how to handle a situation. This happens a few times a year, and I always get really worked up over something that is technically neither my problem nor my fault.

So I'm kind of in it for the long haul not only because I want to help people, but because I want to help people without hurting myself. Sounds selfish, I know. At the same time, I know I don't have it in me to work myself over for other people, and that'll probably make me a better psychologist just because I don't have a massive set of my own baggage (yet) that'll influence my decisions and advice. But, I guess I'm trying to reconcile helping others with helping myself, because I know I can manage the two in conjunction, I just need to find a way to articulate it.

Perhaps like so: I want to learn how to help people better so that I can help them more easily, without doing any self-damage, and so that I can keep wanting to help them. I suppose I'm really worried that I'll completely stop caring at some point, because I've had it happen on a smaller scale and frankly it made me feel like a complete bitch. At this point, I don't have the ability or the knowledge to keep myself from falling into this trap, but I guess that's what college is for. I'm just really worried that I'll go and I'll learn all the theory and it won't do my any good because I've been told to really succeed in this field, you need a degree of intuitiveness--you can't just follow the book.

Which leaves me stuck. I don't really have a better plan, so I know this is the one I'm sticking to unless I chicken out and just go into some other field entirely, in which case someone ought to slap me--because I really think this could make me happy AND provide a fair amount of financial security. Everyone needs a shrink. Anyways, this post needed to be written, and now it has been and I'm going to make another post detailing something quite a bit lighter.

Please, do me a favor and DON'T COMMENT. Seriously, I need to stop being an ostrich and pull my head out of the dirt on my own.

More Bollywood badassery + a note

Schmidt, you're probably the only person who comments because you're probably the only person who READS--I don't send out notifications, because then I would expect comments. And that's not the point.

Anyways, my dear reader (singular), you asked for another Bollywood summary. And so, just for you, here is the summary of a movie known as....Lagaan.

Some dudes play cricket and India beasts England and there's a love triangle and then more cricket.

The end.

No, seriously. That's about all that happens in Lagaan, but it is epic and amazing and I suggest everyone should see it, because even if there are five billion hours of cricket, it's quality for a Bollywood film.

But since it makes for a crap summary, I'm going to do another one.

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai.

Which apparently translates literally to "Something Something Happens". The colloquial meaning is a lot less cooler, so I'm going to stick with this.

In this movie, some college guy named Rahul is best friends with a tomboy named Anjali and she, of course, has the biggest crush on him ever because THAT IS WHAT HAPPENS. And she's all goofy and has a ridiculous pageboy-bowlcut monster of a wig and she pwns his ass at basketball. Every single morning.

When they make up after fighting, fake whistling is involved.

One day, the school's principal's daughter comes, and she's all elegant and classy and instantly Rahul goes gaga for her. And she's so wonderfully sweet that even when she's playing an electric guitar in a sparkling silver minidress, she's not considered a skank. Go figure. So they do a dance for their whole college about how they've "found someone" and it's basically a love triangle of madness.

But of course, Anjali has to go home (via dramatic train station sequence, no less) because her aged relative is about to kick the bucket, and Rahul and Other Chick have magically fallen in love, so she feels like a third wheel. Rahul and Other Chick spawn, and then Other Chick dies of...........something. Possibly complications from birthing the spawn, or possibly cancer. Or possibly, she dies of melodrama.

That happens a lot in India.

And Rahul is told by Other Chick as she lays dying to name the Spawn "Anjali" after the best friend, because she's nuts like that.

And there are dramatic sequences wherein KidAnjali has to talk about her mother and cries and that starts Rahul crying and soon all of India is crying. KidAnjali then skips off to summer camp, having successfully depressed an entire nation, and Rahul follows after her when he figures out that AdultAnjali is there and now made of the traditional Indian sex. Basically, she ditched the wig, the sneakers, and the shorts and started wearing saris 24/7.....Other Chick isn't the only crazy one here.

Rahul comes to the camp and attempts to woo her, and the camp director and someone's mom get into a fight over India vs. Queen of England and, of course, the mom wins and starts everyone on learning traditional Indian methods of badassery. Meanwhile, Rahul kicks Anjali's butt at basketball. And finds out she's engaged.

In more dramatic sequences, Anjali runs into the forest and sees her betrothed in the middle of a storm and eventually tells him she loves Rahul more. AT THE WEDDING ITSELF. The poor guy takes it like a champ, making him also crazy but probably the nicest character in the whole movie. Rahul and Anjali and Anjali form a perfect little family unit of crazy, and after four hours, God knows how many songs, even more dramatic sequences, and a bit of Indian pwnage, the movie comes to its happy conclusion.

Now the end for real.

West Side (of Goa) Story

I think, therefore I watch Bollywood. And so should you. Like Schmidt and her artist profiles, I'm going to do a Bollywood profile! Or perhaps just a plot summary of a really stoner movie!

To begin: I haven't exactly SEEN this movie, but I'm pretty sure that's not necessary.

The movie is, in essence, West Side Story. But in Goa, with Indian people. And I doubt any of them actually sing. So there are two competing gangs, led by the hardcore Max and the not-so-hardcore Rahul. Max's gang can be identified by their shades and leather jackets. Rahul's gang can be identified by their pastel shirts in all the colors of the rainbow.

So much for Sharks and Jets.

Anyways, Max has a sister, played by India's trademark Gorgeous Woman (or, as a friend would say, Ashy Washy) who I actually prefer to Maria because she's a tomboy and hangs out with the gang in plaid shorts. And she shoves her brother around when's he stupid. And this sister, named Shirley--yes, Shirley--falls for Rahul even though she sets a flood of mice loose in his bakery. At least, I think it's a bakery. And Max has his own stubborn love interest, who I think has nothing to do with the story, he just needed a love interest. She breaks a violin over his head though, so she can't be all that bad.

And at some point, Rahul and Max start having all these Indian-style beatdowns, including one to a musical number wherein they keep getting interrupted by policemen, nuns, etc. and have to pretend that really, they're actually just best buddies. There is snapping involved. And they demonstrate why Indian-style beatdowns are really depressing, because apparently there's only the one bicycle-chain per gang and the rest of the guys just have to go with perfectly-cylindrical wooden sticks that they pull out of nowhere.

So of course the couples experience True Love the likes of which has never been seen before, even though Max is trying to kill Rahul for experiencing said True Love. And in the end...well, I'll be honest and say I have only the vaguest idea about what happens in the end. I get the impression that Max and Shirley come into some fucking huge property thanks to their deceased parents, and I don't think anybody dies but it is quite possible that Max offs Rahul and Rahul sings to Shirley for a good seven minutes before actually kicking the bucket. Which still sort of counts as a happy ending, in my book.

This movie, for any and all who are interested, is called Josh, from 2000. I suggest you see it. If you don't want to see it, I suggest you Youtube Hum Bhi Hain Josh Mein, which is the snapping song. If you're interested in Bollywood movies I've seen and can ACTUALLY recommend.....You don't exist. Nevermind.

It's raining rams

Woohoo! One more has fallen to the dark side of blogging!

Also, I too have fallen to the dark side, but a different dark side. I have fallen into a hell of shiny fake leather (because cows are sacred) and three-thumbed men. I have fallen back into the PIT OF BOLLYWOOD.

It's sort of awesome.

I've also been fairly productive this weekend, but I'm panicking about stupid things and I'm not really sure why I even felt like blogging. I feel insignificant and not funny in comparison to the blogging elite (the ones who are actually hilarious when they write).

I've also found that white chocolate Oreos leave a nice aftertaste, especially when compared to, say, vomit.

We're going out to the fondue restaurant today, though, which is amazing and wonderful and makes the best food in the whole world because where else can you dip cold cheesecake in warm chocolate and get heaven on a little tiny fork?

No, really. It sounds obscene, but it's actually super good and not too rich (by which I mean, I generally leave the restaurant on my own two feet, even if I can't see them).

And I have toenail polish from the beginning of the school year that STILL HASN'T WORN OFF. WTF. They could hold airplanes together with this stuff.

Though admittedly, a hot pink-and-grey airplane won't exactly do it for a lot of people. Their loss, I suppose.

Anyways I should be back to work again, which is marginally less of a failure than this post. Yay!