Monday, May 14, 2012

Douchebags of the Night Awards.

1. Brian Eno is a douchebag. Perhaps I'd have such feelings about the impact of art if I were a 12-year old boy playing "Call of Duty." Video games are a great example of temporary illusion that incites strong feelings IN THE MOMENT. Utter and complete fantasy. One of the innovators of ambient music, and a prominent producer (and former member of Roxy Music) and visual artist, Brian Eno is widely respected in the arts. I get it; he's being all minimalist and blah blah. But speaking solely of film as a medium...think about the films you have gone so far as to OWN. Why do you own them? Because they left an indelible impression upon you. Think about the films you know and can quote by heart. Why can you? Because you can relate them to your own life. Think about the films that, even with fictional enhancement, have taught you important real life historical lessons, where the lines between "not real" and "very real" get blurry. They make a difference because you learn from them. If I'm missing something in this quote and taking it too literally, fill me in, people. Because art, in all its forms, has been a lifesaver for me. Hence, Brian Eno? You're a douchebag.

"The whole point of art, as far as I’m concerned, is that art doesn’t make any difference. And that’s why it’s important. Take film: you can have quite extreme emotional experiences watching a movie, but they stop as soon as you walk out of the cinema. You can see people being hurt, but even though you feel those things strongly, you know they’re not real." - Brian Eno

2. Craig is a douchebag.

Tonight, Luke went for a bike ride at his dad's house. His seat needed an adjustment. His father, who is one of those people who, much like myself, is hyper crazy book smart but lacks any semblance of common sense, didn't tighten the seat properly. It came apart as Luke was riding, and he fell into a pile of jagged rocks.

The results:

Oh, Craig's poo pooing me and saying Luke's fine and bandaged up nicely, and too bad for me if I'm not in the mood to see pictures online of my son's gaping arm wounds displayed on Facebook.

I sat out in the sun today at the patio table working. I'd been up since 4:45 am. My neck was about the only thing in the sun, and the only sunscreen I put on was on my tattoo, so it wouldn't fade. Craig sent me the following message: "You might as well stick your tongue in an electrical outlet." My erstwhile husband's affection and concern for me astound me in their utter vapidity.

The last Douchebag of the Night Award goes to the folks who spread viral online videos that are guaranteed to "touch us" or "move us to tears." They're all over social networking (particularly from religious sites and pages) or forwarded to me by my mom. I don't watch them. I'd rather have my gums scraped. This one caught my eye, however, because of the description.

83 Year Old Man on Oxygen Brings Everyone to Tears with a Song

This man died shortly after this video was filmed, but he leaves behind beautiful inspiration. Fred originally rehearsed Fix You with his best friend, but he passed away....and Fred decided to do it anyway, on oxygen and in his final days. So touching.
This is on par with videos of babies, puppies and kittens. What struck me was the choice of song this old coot decided to sing. It was Coldplay's "Fix You," which holds special meaning for me. I simply couldn't resist. There's no way to embed the video, so I'll just provide the link:

It's subtitled in German! He's got what my friend, Sara, calls a "front butt." He barely chokes out a quarter of the song and gets a standing ovation. If anything, it's a good quit-smoking-so-you-don't-end-up-on-oxygen message, another topic which Craig was douchbaggingly nagging me about today.

Oh, Fred. Rest in Peace.

Oh, Craig. You big dope.

Oh, Brian Eno. You defy logic.

No comments: