James and Regina Review Everything

Behind the Times

2009-07-29T10:15:00.000-07:00

Hey guys, remember us? We sure hope so! I promise not to start every new entry after a long hiatus by apologizing but I am sorry for having kept you waiting.

In honor of our hiatus, here is an outdated thing for me to dredge up and review!

Five years ago, Rolling Stone made a list. I support list making. Lists are fun and easy to read! I do not, however, support this list.

I am not going to argue about who "belongs" or who "doesn't belong" on that list. But I am going to say it annoys me to no end that out of 100 artists, only 10 of them are ladies. Oh, and in the top 10, only 1 lady. Way to adhere to a strict 10% ratio, Rolling Stone.

OH WAIT! Upon further inspection I see that out of the 100 artists chosen to write lovingly about these 100 Immortal Artists, 11 of them were women. Wahoo?

Moral of the story, women are marginally able to Rock and or Roll themselves into immortality and they are ever so slightly more able to write about it.

You rock my world.

2009-06-25T21:12:00.000-07:00

Dear Michael,

I have and always will be a great fan of your work.

You're a great inspiration for what I want to do with my life. Your unabashed and unbridled need to entertain is unrivaled. I aspire to deftly deliver turns, kicks and snaps like you. You move effortlessly and magically.

It was the middle of class that I got a text message that you had passed away. My heart sank. It was a dull ache at first and then it stung. And that's when I started to think about all the times that your music played at significant moments of my life. Your death marks the end of a piece of my youth.

You've been a big part of my life. Because you believed in what you did. You stood for something more than just your music. You were a symbol that you can do whatever you want if you love it enough. So much so that I could always feel that passion when I listened to your music. Maybe it was your take on the American dream. And growing up in the late 80's and early 90's, watching you ascend to the height of your career gave me immense hope; hope that someday I could also make it.

I've always wanted to see you in concert but never had the chance. I'm not sure where it is, but I have a photograph of my five year old self wearing a Bad t-shirt.

With great sadness, I thank you.

Love,

James

Who's Fault? All Mine Of Course!

2009-06-25T06:29:00.000-07:00

The NY Times ran an article about gender bias in theater. How exciting for me!

What was not exciting was the super misleading opening of this article. Allow me to reproduce it for full effect.

“When more than 160 playwrights and producers, most of them female, filed into a Midtown Manhattan theater Monday night, they expected to hear some concrete evidence that women who are authors have a tougher time getting their work staged than men. And they did. But they also heard that women who are artistic directors and literary managers are the ones to blame.”

Did you get that? Shit is tough for women. Guess whose fault it is? The Women!

I am hooked, article. I must continue to read you to find out why it is all my fault that things are hard for me.

Weird. Hmmm. That’s odd. You see, when I actually read the rest of the article it points to 3 major contributing factors for the lack of female authored productions. Allow me to enumerate for maximum clarity.

Chicks write less than dudes because there are fewer chick authors and they tend to be less prolific.
Chick artistic directors are all, “Shut up. I hate your stupid play, other chick!”
Chick writers have to write consistently better pieces than men and even then their shows won’t have extended runs unlike the not-as-awesome dude shows.

Hmmm. I may not be a Princeton economist headed to Harvard, and I doubt this journalist is either, but 2 out of 3 of the major issues pointed to, aren’t the exclusive responsibility of women at all. AND YET when I started this article, I was led to believe women were entirely to blame. Strange! The article even says that the actual Princeton economist headed to Harvard who ran the study was "reluctant to explain the responses in terms of discrimination." But, I see that didn't keep the article from charging straight into unfounded explanations, right there in the opening.

It seems perhaps that there is a journalistic bias against lady playwrights, too.

Maybe I am being too hard on you, NY Times article. But, you see, I find this study really interesting. And, I have to tell you, I'm really tired of reading interesting things framed in a way that annoys me. Maybe I'll write a play about a young girl who gets annoyed by things and (with songs) finally learns to write on the internet about how things annoy her and happily ever after and such. Keep your eyes on the Broadway lights for that gem.

Attention to Detail I Can Believe In

2009-06-23T10:18:00.000-07:00

The mayoral elections were held in May (along with elections for judges and other peeps). Yay for voting, right? But, even though it is July I’m still seeing campaign signs in lawns and various posters around town.

Here’s the deal, if you are going to campaign to better your community and serve your community and generally campaign for truth, beauty and the American Way, why are you leaving all your shit behind? I’m sure there are arguments to be made for volunteers leaving after the campaign season, or there not being enough funding to get staff to clean up, or the elected officials have more important shit to shovel. Or, whatever! I don’t care! I don't care if you lost. I don't care if you won. Clean up after yourselves, you assholes.

I see this issue as representative of, not just government peeps although they do get singled out in this review, people’s general disinterest in the finishing details of their work. When you leave things undone, you’re leaving them for someone else. This isn't me ranting that shit "isn't my job," but rather saying (with swearwords), "this shit IS YOUR job."

What up for responsibility and culpability!

I want to see genuine follow through in politicians - from the smallest details, like not leaving campaign signs around to major political promises. Honestly, I would vote for anyone who said and then actually did remove marks of the election season when it was over.

Well, not a Republican because ewwwwww gross.

Get smarter, phone! Just, not too smart, OK?

2009-06-18T06:57:00.000-07:00

I don’t have one of those fancy iPhones all the kids are in love with and addicted to. My phone is a normal cell phone, y’all. With normality comes imperfection, or something. Look my preamble is weak because what I’m about to review is something that actually annoys me and I admit to being embarrassed to being annoyed by something so dumb.

My T9 sucks.

Yes, the thing that makes texting easier ANNOYS me because it isn’t easy enough. My problems - they are immense.

There is no option for entering a question mark while in T9 mode. I have to use a different mode in order to ask questions. Does my phone believe I should only speak in declarative or exclamatory statements? Has my phone never heard the adage that there's no such thing as a bad question? Doesn't my phone know me at all?!

My T9 is not, as Arnold would say in T2, a “lyeeeeerning comp-yuuuter.” It never learns what words I like to use when sending out my Very Important Texts like other folks’ phones do. Speaking of Terminator, my phone knows the word terminator but not the very common name, Abby. OTHER THAN ME IN THIS WORLD, WHO ELSE NEEDS TO TEXT THE WORD TERMINATOR ALL THE TIME?

It also knows the word inauguration but not the word trombone. People only need to say inauguration once every 4 years, so I’m pretty sure that’s an extravagant waste of memory.

Also, this phone won’t let me curse. Why do I own a prude phone?! WHY?

Other than the shoddy T9 (grumble grumble I’m actually irritated) my phone is, I have to admit, rather nice. I would be sad/terrified should my phone ever begin to learn at a geometric rate, become self-aware like Skynet, and choose to nuke me for raggin’ on it for being dumb.

To the ground!

2009-06-18T06:20:00.000-07:00

It brings me great joy to be re-reviewing this piece. Back in September, I had written this. This morning, upon arriving at campus, I noticed that all the people walking up the pole had decided to take the plunge towards earth.

Maybe it was just too hard for them. It was too much pressure to be the symbol of hope during dire times. With the economic downturn, people are really beaten down and discouraged. How can anyone bring that much inspiration to the table every day? I couldn't do it. Or maybe it was just time for them to retire. I would also get really tired of standing on a slanted steel erection.

Regardless, the people are now gone, but the erection remains. Kind of like a big steel fuck you. City of champions or not, it's a bad day to be a fiberglass person climbing towards infinity.

Craig, what have you listed?

2009-06-15T10:00:00.000-07:00

Gum Cleaner (Oaklang)
Reply to: gigs-sddpv-1222210837@craigslist.org
[Errors when replying to ads?]
Date: 2009-06-15, 9:44AM EDT

I'm looking for a writer to clean gum off the bottom of
tables and desks for a large non-community organization. Must have at least a
BA.

Location: Oaklang
it's NOT ok to contact this poster
with services or other commercial interests
Compensation: $7.5/hr

What could this possibly be for? I would definitely write to them and find out... but I have a suspicion that it's the KKK trying to stomp out the liberal writers-- you know, the ones willing to scrape gum off desks.

Sugar: A Terrible Mistake

2009-06-01T10:58:00.000-07:00

Netflix has a wonderful feature where you can watch movies right on their website. Enticing. You can browse through piles of films and you can watch almost anything you want without the anxiety associated with selecting the best film for the #1 spot in your queue.The downfall is you will happen upon lots and lots of bad bad bad films.

Like Sugar, directed by John Palmer.

The supposed coming of age movie features mostly genitals and drug abuse. There isn't much plot except this young man, Cliff, gets his heart broken by a slightly older hustler, Butch.

The movie is made tolerable by Cookie, the 12 year old sister. A 12 year old joint rolling sister that pushes her brother out the door with a small bottle of hootch, a joint, and lots of luck to find sex. Very believable. I'm surprised she didn't get an Oscar.

What?

This isn't a movie. It's an elaborate fantasy. You'd think that it'd be kind of fun because it's mostly light hearted and about sex and drugs. But it's not. It's a snore. The acting is bad, and the writing is worse.
If you had to choose between seeing this and... reading the yellow pages--cover to cover-- I'd pick the phonebook.

Magical In More Ways Than One

2009-05-27T07:59:00.000-07:00

Baked beans and elbow macaroni is by far the best "I'm broke this week" meal. Ramen can suck it.

SPOILER: I Will Surprise You With My Pronouncement

2009-05-22T08:03:00.000-07:00

Y'all, I'm going to say something controversial in just a second. First, I would like to build up the suspense a little about my earth shattering revelation with this here paragraph. Do you feel well and truly suspended (what?)? I hope that you do, because I am ready to move forward with my theorem that may from this point forward be known as Regina's Totally Original Brilliant Central Core of True Statements Theorem (because phrases like that totally catch on quick).

Here it is.

Vacation is pretty fuckin' sweet.

Bask in that doozy for a moment.

Ok, let's move on to my theorem proof. On a personal note, I am flying my butt, alongside the butts of several of my friends, across this great nation to visit Oregon¹. This decision, complete with booked flight and hotel (thank you internet deals!), fills me with excitement. THEREFORE, vacations are pretty fuckin' sweet.

As if that weren't enough evidence to get me published in a well respected journal, here's some more. When I think back to past vacations, those thoughts fill me with contentment. THEREFORE, I am right again! It always feels good to write those words.

There you have it folks. Get out there and go.

¹While in Oregon, I just may attend the Rose Festival which, I shit you not, in 2007 won the award for "Greatest Festival in the World." I want to be the arbiter of what qualifies as Greatest Festival in the World. HIRE ME NOW, International Festival and Events Association.

Rascism in robots

2009-05-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

Nikon, please get it together. You're embarrassing me and my endorsements.

http://m.flickr.com/photos/jozjozjoz/3529106844/

Two Books, Two Books in One!

2009-05-18T12:51:00.000-07:00

You guys, I’ve been holding out and I’m sorry. However, I have a very good reason for holding out. Her name is Joan Didion.

Look, I’ve never read Joan Didion before last month and I admit to not really knowing much about her. What a tragedy! Joan Didion has emerged (fully-formed) on my top list of authors to love.

Why would I hold out on reviewing an author I already love? Because - it is intimidatingly awesome stuff.

I read Play It as It Lays over two days. The sentences are compact and loaded. I felt compelled to read everything trippingly fast. A part of my brain was all “Hold up! That sentence was perfect. Go BACK. What else was it saying?! GO BACK.” And the other half was all, “I WANT MORE MORE MORE. Next page, please.” Your average author is not going to set your brain at war like that, y’all.

The main character’s name in the book is Maria. You are corrected early on in a parenthetical aside that her name is pronounced Mar-EYE-uh. For some reason, this sums up the book for me (in an admittedly weird way). You’re initially presented with a story you expect to understand (like when you read Maria, you expect Mar-eeee-ah) but the book flat out tells you you’re wrong (it’s EYE-uh) and somehow you love it for that. Does that make any sense? Probably not!!! That’s why I held off this review.

Because I’ve decided it is time to read everything she’s written, I already have read another book to talk about.

Slouching Towards Bethlehem is a collection of non-fiction essays. Based only on these two pieces, her non-fiction noses ahead of her fiction by the smallest of margins in awesomeosity (for me). As little as I was able to be coherent about why I really enjoyed Play It as It Lays, I feel even less able to write about this guy. As a result, I leave you with quotes to enjoy from an essay “On Self-Respect.” You’re welcome.

In brief, people with self-respect exhibit a certain toughness, a kind of mortal nerve; they display what was once called character, a quality which, although approved in the abstract, sometimes loses ground to other, more instantly negotiable virtues. The measure of its slipping prestige is that one tends to think of it only in connection with homely children and United States senators who have been defeated, preferably in the primary, for reelection. Nonetheless, character – the willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life – is the source from which self-respect springs.

…

To have that sense of one’s intrinsic worth which constitutes self-respect is potentially to have everything: the ability to discriminate, to love and to remain indifferent. To lack it is to be locked within oneself, paradoxically incapable of either love or indifference. If we do not respect ourselves, we are the one hand forced to despise those who have so few resources as to consort with us, so little perception as to remain blind to our fatal weaknesses. On the other, we are peculiarly in thrall to everyone we see, curiously determined to live out – since our self-image is untenable – their false notion of us. We flatter ourselves by thinking this compulsion to please others an attractive trait: a gist for imaginative empathy, evidence of our willingness to give.

I know, right?

In conclusion, I hope my sub-par writing has encouraged you to seek out her excellent writing.

SortKwik

2009-05-12T05:42:00.001-07:00

Ahh, non-toxic long lasting non-staining fingertip moistener, is there a stranger office supply than you?

I know that you are "HYGIENIC" because you tell me so in big letters (although you do warn me to avoid contact with eyes. What will you do to my eyes, SortKwik?). I also know that you are "the easy, clean way to get a grip." I assume you are for the ladies because the disturbing finger illustration on your lid has a distinct red football shaped nail coming in for a crash-landing on your pink surface.

That, my friend, is the part that confuses me. Your surface! What are you made of? You are pink, translucent, firm and yet watery. Um, yes, I am still talking about Fingertip Moistener. Wait, that didn't make it less suggestive.

ANYWAY. This shit is weird. Weird and yet, it works! So well! Have you tried sorting paper with your own dry husk of a fingertip? It is not pleasant. Get yourself some puzzling SortKwik. The feeling of it fades away quickly enough and your paper sorting lifestyle will reach new levels of Kwikness.

Running in Stilettos

2009-04-22T07:16:00.000-07:00

Because I am Hip to things the people like, I just saw The Devil Wears Prada for the first time this weekend. This movie was billed to me as a comedy yuk-fest bonanza.

I’m sorry, what?

Where are the guffaws, chortles, and general heh heh hehs? Nowhere, for me. The only jokes, as far as I could see, were about women running around looking frantic and lost, telling a size 6 how she's fat and frumpy (hahahaha hilarious, right?!!), and cruel boss behavior. Maybe it was my misfortune to have expectations of witty one-liners but this movie didn't warrant a grin despite my mood improving delicious dinner, complete with wine!

Meryl Streep, clearly, was a gem. But there wasn’t enough variety even of that. You’ve seen one steely glance above pursed lips; you’ve seen most of the movie.

What was the big lesson for our "dowdy" to doll-like heroine? Um, I guess if you keep a shitty job where you’re treated like crap for long enough, you’ll one day have the gumption to waste a good cell phone by throwing it in a fountain AND you’ll waltz into your dream job at Generic Publishing Company (now with more heart! We've got the massive stacks of newspapers everywhere, letting you know we’ve got HEART!).

Bike for three? No thanks.

2009-04-18T11:51:00.000-07:00

Yes, this is in fact a bicycle for three. I saw the lovely crapmobile outside of the Coldstone Creamery in Squirrel Hill. And really, I have only one thing to say to these people: Go fuck yourself.

The only reason you'd have this is to show off your perfect family and your perfect bliss. No one likes that. If people liked that, they'd put more happy people on TV.

Also, your kid is ugly.

Guest Reviews

2009-04-16T11:25:00.000-07:00

James and I had a blogging summit, gchat was kind enough to host, and we’ve decided we’d like to do a little hosting of our own.

Would you like to review something? We would like you to! Email us your reviews and we’ll put them on the blog for all the readers of blogs to see.

James – jamesjamesblogs@gmail.com
Regina – reginaalsoblogs@gmail.com

I don’t think I’ve ever written the word “blog” so many times. Blogging about blogging is a blogger’s bloggity blog blog.

You heard it hear first!!!

Odd Girl Out

2009-03-26T07:54:00.000-07:00

Awhile back, I promised to review every book I read. Please don’t be fooled into thinking I haven’t been reading all this time, because that just isn’t true.

A few weeks ago I finished Odd Girl Out: The Hidden Culture of Aggression in Girls and I really wished I had written about it right away because what is about to follow won’t do it justice. I had been planning on using real quotes and everything, but that book has long since been returned and I can only rely on my imperfect memory.

Rarely do I finish a book with a feeling akin to when you watch a funny youtube and find yourself powerless to resist the urge to forward it to someone, anyone, so they too can enjoy the funny. While reading the book and after I finished it, I kept urging anyone and everyone to read it. For real, go read it, y’all.

The book examines, through anecdote driven research, interviews of hundreds of girls and women at different schools with different socio-economic backgrounds, to discuss aggression in girls (I qualify it as anecdotal because it serves as a foundation on which to build a scientifically sound study rather than exist as that study. Get to it scientists! You may have already, I don’t know. This book was published in 2002. Back to the point…) The book goes into detail to show that women are aggressive but have been acculturated to aggress in different ways than what everyone thinks of as “normal aggression” such as a bout of fisticuffs.

To wildly simplify the work (for an un-simplified version, go read it, seriously), the book posits that if women are expected to always present a sugary sweet persona, and inevitably they get pissed off about something like any normal human, they will be constrained to respond to those opposing forces by resorting to “alternative aggression.” Rather than nod unthinkingly along with the perception that “girls are just so mean sometimes” this book delves into why girl bullying can be so vicious, so invisible, and have such long lasting effects. The book does not say “girls are evil,” or “all girls are sweethearts except these bitches,” and the book isn’t about laying blame on anyone. Rather, it engages in a thoughtful discussion of something many people have experienced and provides a way to contextualize those experience with others.

I was never bullied as a kid. To my best recollection, I (rarely) bullied other kids. Nevertheless, I had distinct, “Holy shit!” moments in reading this where I realized that I often react to conflict in the exact same way as the women described, or that some of my closest friends had been bullied in eerily similar ways as the case studies. The book also made me think about how bullying of a child affects that child’s parents too. What do you do when your daughter comes home crying every day and hates school? Yikes, parenthood sounds as rough as childhood yo.

Even though it can be kind of depressing to read about a bunch of bullies and victims of nasty bullies, I can’t overemphasize how enjoyable and, dare I go so far as to say, enlightening this book was. Are you convinced yet? Read it.

With apologies

2009-03-26T07:31:00.000-07:00

I hear one-word reviews are trendy so I'm going to use the format to review my ability to blog while busy.

Crappy.

Questions questions questions

2009-03-09T13:38:00.000-07:00

Jokingly someone recently asked if I would take questions and dispense advice.

Sure. Why not, right? James and Regina can review your problems. Actually, just James for now.

Send your questions to:

jamesjamesblogs@gmail.com

2009-03-02T08:27:00.000-08:00

In case anyone was wondering, it was 18 degrees this morning. Upon getting to work, I was sent to deliver a box of books across campus. During this excursion I walked by a shaking mound of flesh. For the purpose of this story, we’ll call her Stupid Fucking Idiot.

SFI was wearing a small black jacket. On the bottom, she was wearing the smallest excuse for a skirt and four inch black pumps. Now, I’m all about flaunting it if you got it. But it’s 18 degrees. Are you a hooker? Are you a stripping for your expensive education? I assume that it’s neither and you are, just as your name indicates, a stupid fucking idiot.

There’s a fine line between short skirt and lingerie. I would consider a garment that is slightly above mid-thigh to be a short skirt. I would consider anything shorter than that to be a headband. Pop quiz: where should you wear each aforementioned items?

Skirt aside, you are so cold! Why was this outfit chosen? Presumably, this is your take on professional attire. When you come in from the cold with splotchy, cold marked legs, you don’t come off smart or sharp. Walking around shaking like you’re smuggling an army of squirrels inside of you doesn’t make you look suave.

Keep it real, girl.

2009-02-26T23:38:00.000-08:00

Hello world.

It's a glorious day to be alive. This can be seen here:

Go all Pharaoh in the desert *

2009-02-11T11:50:00.000-08:00

There is next to nothing that listening to this song won't make better.

* Yes, I realize that isn't the actual lyric but I thought it was for years and I still think it is funny.

Princess!

2009-02-05T12:46:00.001-08:00

I am deep in the land of graduate school applications. One of the schools I am applying to is the University of Edinburgh (which is in Scotland y'all). On their online application, you need to enter the information for who will be writing your recommendation letters. This page has a drop down box of options for their titles. It includes your standard Mr, Ms, and Mrs. but it ALSO has the following.

Bishop
Brother
Canon
Captain
Colonel
Count
Countess
Honourable
Lady
Lord
Major
Princess
Viscount

I find this totally charming. However, if people seriously have princesses writing recommendation letters for them, what chance does this lonely American colonial have?

Bitches

2009-02-05T06:08:00.000-08:00

So, Etta James is pissed. There's an At Last joke in here somewhere, I'm just less articulate this morning. Apparently, Etta is upset that she was not asked to sing at Barack's nationally televised Inaugural party.

"You know, your President, the one with the big ears - he ain’t my president - had that woman singing for him at his Inauguration. She’s going to get her ass whooped."
"How dare Beyonce sing my song that I been singing forever. Now I’m going to sing it for y’all."

Don't you think it's kind of petty to pick on our new president because he didn't invite you to the ball? I think someone might have Cinderella complex... Anyone see recent performances of Etta singing her signature song? I have. And I gotta say, it's not great. I mean, thank you for still kicking it and still hanging out, but you should probably give it a rest.

You're right. How dare she cover your song? She's never covered a song, ever. But, aren't you tired of singing that damn song, yet? It's been 85 years of the same tired song over and over.

Regardless, I don't know if Etta should run around saying that she'll "whoop" anyone. Especially someone married to Jay Z. Isn't he affiliated with gangs still? Aren't all rappers criminals? So, girls, please-- let's stop this little disagreement before someone gets capped.

Let Me Think About It

2009-01-16T15:26:00.000-08:00

So, this song- Ida Corr and Fedde Le Grand's Let Me Think About It- has been stuck in my head for... about a year. And I've seen the video, but very recently, I got stoned and watched this video... oh, 20 times. Here are things that I like about this video:

1- Afros. Yes, they are both soulful and wonderful; fluffy clouds of sass.

2- Fringes. Should more articles of clothing come with fringes? Probably, according to this video. Why the fuck not, right? I mean, look at them. Where do you even buy that? I think some assembly might even be required.

3- White boys.

4- Dancing on chairs. It's been done before. But, I guess so has remixing old songs into club hits, right? Makes you want to grab a chair and rub your bits on it.

5- Brass instruments. They're awesome! Are they really playing them? No. Fedde has clearly stolen the tooting from another song. I don't even think that's really there are trumpets in the song... (The guitars almost got their own section, but really, the horns win in that showdown. toot toot)

6- Uhm... toot toot toot toot