Facebook and Celebrities, Berkeley and St. Patrick's Day

What the hell is a "celebrity"? Back in the late eighties there was a band in San Francisco called "Celebrity Skin." I got to know a couple of them in passing situations. One of them really cracked me up when we walked through a big grocery store and pointed out all the people from tv and the media on magazines. I didn't know who alot of them were. Now, I suppose I have my favorite people who might be on a magazine in a large grocery store...or hair salon...or skin care places, for instance. Some of these celebrities have Facebook profiles. I think this is really funny and fun and very Planet Glee. Let's give everyone someone to play in their minds about That's what art does. We are all artists.

Some people get paid very well to be artists. These people are in the mainstream media, television. I am also on television on my call-in show. A friend who played guitar with me on Bro Jud on Love Energy on cable said I should call the show "Jammin' with Jennifer." That was really a compliment But I don't play guitar on Planet Glee. I play the bayan of the tabla--badly!!!---by the standards of the "classical. folk, and spiritual Indian music (bhajans) with the musicians who come on the show.

Last night we didn't have the phone lines running. Too bad. That makes Planet Glee even more fun. The guest had won 2008 singe/songwriter by voters in the local San Francisco paper The Bay Guardian. I can say this: his songs were quite uplifting in terms of lyrics. I really need to listen to the cd he gave me of his music. I was curious about what songwriters in San Francisco should be about.

Meanwhile, since Facebook has celebrities in there I looked up Naveen Andrews. I had had a huge crush on him since BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA although I also liked him as the Sikh in THE ENGLISH PATIENT. There were a few comments in there about how sexy he is in the tv show Lost. Earlier I had looked up Rafael Nadal because he is so funny. Actually I think these two men are bedworthy but it is because they can laugh at their situation. That's appealing to me. Here in cable tv world--and in the performance realm at all. I still read on Bro Jud on Love Energy. I get to pick out the stuff to read from what Jud gives me. Sometimes I completely disagree with where the reading is politically, I have to find something funny in it...glee.

Today I went to Berkeley. That's where I went to school and where I learned that I wanted to be moved by what I studied. I spent alot time writing papers--academic stuff. Let's play the scholarly game. It's a very fun game. But when I go to Berkeley I have no desire to be working there as a teacher or something. One has to have a job. I teach children with severe disabilities. I want to be an artist.

Speaking of painting and images and illusions (maya), why is the rainbow associated with leprechauns? Why did San Francisco have its St Patrick's Day parade on a Saturday? If these people are allowed to go to large parking lots behind bars to drink in the wind and cold why did they have to do it on Saturday? What sacrilege? And have you heard any snake charming music lately? I almost bought a snake charmer cd at Amoeba in Berkeley today.

"

Moving and SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE

I moved at the beginning of January (The period key on my computer isn't working!!??) The sentences look like they're floating, without periods In any case, I moved to a neighborhood that is weird in San Francisco I try not to think about it!!?? BBBBUt I have hope that I will return to writing again in my blog and playing my guitar and painting and all things good and meditating

SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE is a film that is a meditation on Love, l-u-v It is also a portrait of a a world that is Hollywood film noir and Bollywood and reality tv with some pans of "slums" in India For those of us how have never been to India, these slums seem so far away, removed There is a reification of the spectacle

However this film, due to the healing nature of the music, the sound of love and the hints at spirituality of different kinds, helps one get a slight bit closer to edifying the spirit while accepting what is

Accepting what is means seeing the Orwellian nightmare and yet keeping it at bay

How long it's been since I blogged and LILA DIT CA and THE DREAM LIFE OF ANGELS

I haven't been looking at my Facebook stuff either. Although I can't go into great detail about these films right now, I intend to get back into thinking about what I've seen through one medium, i.e. film or video, and what it means--or doesn' t mean for that moment. Some of the films I've seen are nameless right now for me. In addition to the aforementioned, DAS FRAULEIN, THE BEST OF DR. KATZ, MECANIQUES CELESTIALS are a few more.

DEATH AT THE FUNERAL

Am I missing something with this film? It was so deadpan that one could definitely say it wasn't cute like FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL. I really shouldn't be writing about it since I only watched 10 minutes. I will let it put me to bed tonight.

I have a kitten, or what about Amma's ashram?

My kitten's name is Joaquin. I have had him since the middle of September. He is very playful. I can't determine whether he is "smart" or what would call "wild." While I'm sitting here typing, he is clawing my bare heels from behind the chair I'm sitting in. It hurts! I threw him one of his cloth mice. Mice like to be played with.

Amma's ashram is in San Ramon. It is one of the most restful places I've been to...no matter how much chai I drink there. Back in September I got to make a Ganesh out of clay. I really liked him. All the people at the ashram that day made Ganeshes, and the figures were to be put into the lake on for Ganesh Charthurti. Tonight was a pleasant night. I hadn't seen so many stars since I've been in the woods. I'm sorry I missed the talk and more bhajans. But that is because I don't meditate enough! This is my New Year's resolution at the end of October.

One of the books I'm reading is A Beginner's Guide to Tibetan Buddhism. I remember having read Georg Feuerstein's Tantra... and getting a sense of the abstraction that is belief.

THE GITS, Eugene Debs and Revolution

I have been watching alot of documentaries lately. I like them. The latest one I've seen, THE GITS was a disturbing but revolutionary one. This film gave me alot to think about. It is the story of the the late eighties/early nineties punk band from Ohio via Seattle called THE GITS.

In 1993 I saw the band the Gits at a club in San Francisco called The Bottom of the Hill. I think they were a part of the Noise Pop festival, but I don't remember exactly. At that time I was playing music with my boyfriend. This band had a very memorable line-up. Their music was unlike anything I'd heard before--much more melodic and faster than Green Day or whatever.

The film is the story of the rise to signed status for the band as it coincided with the murder of the singer. It actually is a horrible story of her beauty, creativity, soul and chilling death. It is the story of how her killer is sought. Her strangler is shown which makes it even more disturbing. But for those about to rock, this band and its story is so important.

Revolution is important. Revolutionary ideas are important. The band THE GITS and its documentary are revolutionary. Eugene Debs was a revolutionary. Where is he now? Tonight I went to the cafe Revolution in the Mission. I saw a quote from Eugene Debs on the bathroom door about the word 'revolution' being one of the most important words in any language.

Recently I saw a singer who was visiting from France. She was out playing in San Francisco. She told me while we were waiting for the bathroom that she was playing all over Paris and that it's possible to play all over Paris. She sang a cover of Edith Piaf's 'Je ne regrette rien.' There were people speaking different languages at this cafe. I felt like I was in Europe again...and I wondered how she would sound in a cafe in Paris.


T

REBEL MUSIC, The Story of Bob Marley

Anyone who wants to document through the medium of film should watch REBEL MUSIC. It is the most humble and thoughtful film I have seen in a while.

Of course, even thinking about Bob Marley one can hear one of his songs. The film lets primary people in the political world of Bob's Jamaica define how essential he was to the heart of the country and its people, landscape, "reality."

Not much more to be said right now but that my mind and heart became full of what one probably calls love and compassion and a fascination for the music, musicians, and people of Jamaica.

BURN BEFORE READING, or RUN AWAY BEFORE READING

Yes, the beginning of the eighties was really gross and the real sign of the end. What comes after the end a few people have guesses about, but enlightened beings know better: mediation, love and compassion are necessary before succumbing to the end.

Meanwhile, there are quite a few films on the commercial American market that are "political" in nature. They depict political figures and etc. I don't much about the Coen Brothers and their politics, but since they too are putting out a film that is setting in the United States capital, Washington, D.C., they are jumping onto the political swingset.

BURN AFTER READING is a most forgettable film. Although I liked some of the acting, the script was painful. The lighting in this film is film noir meets greyed out color lamps. Visually, this film is a nightmare.

And far be it from me to guess what these directors have intended. Yet the fact that they have put out a political film--"dark comedy," ridiculousness with the callous edge of the mind celebrated, I can't see anything positive in viewing this film. Supposedly Joel Coen reads Physics. He should try reading Gary Zukav and give us something to really think and feel about.

Why not some Joy Division to cheer me up.

When I return to work after a vacation of less than 2 months, and the conditions seem unbearable the first day back, and I want to walk our and I almost do walk out, knowing I have no other economic recompense, I get tired and wish for the past. I used to live on a little over $300. per month. I don't think I ate much. And I never bought new clothes. And I didn't have a car. And life weren't so tedious sometimes.

Nevertheless I have felt like there is a wealth of experience beyond the "job" that, as long as it isn't over 7 and 1/2 hours per day, it's maybe do-able. Maybe.

In any case, the experience of watching the 2007 documentary on the band Joy Division, really helped me overcome the braindeadness of suprastress. The footage of the band and how they sounded in the beginning and their having come from an industrial place in England were the threads that wove themselves through the film. The film itself with the band members and other players in their success be interviewed in 2007 looking back, all of them set against a typical black confessional background, was kind of corny and pretentious. I had never seen the band although I had both of their records and played them all the time when I was about the same age as they were. I was going through a break up with my husband.

Ian Curtis got married at 17. He later had a French-speaking Belgian girlfriend. He read incessantly and had untreated bipolar disorder. When I listened to the band, I had no idea how Ian writhed all over the stage or what he looked like. I guess I didn't care. I was a punkette but had to work to pay for some expensive studio I had gotten in the upper Haight.

But the experience I had of Joy Division was not all about me. It was about other lives of my own of those of others and somehow transporting myself out of this lifetime to another my own --or someone else's.

FRIENDS OUT WEST!

Yes, it has been one of those weeks in which one just looks for something to read to take one's mind off all the "problems," and for me that transportative book tonight is Dora's trip out west. THe first page has a giant Dora with her hands on her hips standing next to a giant cactus with a couple of pretty pink flowers. Dora says "Howdy explorers! I am Cowgirl Dora..." She then opines that the horses must be fed. Map says she must go through "Echo Tunnel" but how will she know it's Echo Tunnel?
"Right!
Make an echo.
Will you help me?"
The tunnel has to say 'hello' back for it to be an Echo Tunnel of Dora's 'hello.'
(This is hard to write while listening to Vinnie Vincent but it's more fun.)
Map tells Dora to go through the rocks and sees something red. It's Benny's barn. Off she goes, saying 'Happy Trails.' Just like some old man said back in the eighties. The one who feared the reds and wore cowboy boots. The one who made cruelty only a precursor to Alzheimer's. There have been two clones of him in the capital of the U.S.

You can throw away your cowboy boots!! Feed them to your pet dog. Endangered!! This country can't go down any further down these 'Happy Trails.'

Mt. Shasta and THE SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELLING PANTS 2

What I won't do for a thrill or because I'm bored. The Mt. Shasta trip was quite thrilling in that the drive to the mountain on the main highway was really a roller coaster ride around massive trucks. My palms were sweating. I think I was having a panic attack, but I had to keep driving. There were no turn-outs except those to get to different roads off the main track. What a relief it was to finally get there, close to darkness setting in.

It was difficult to see the mountain the second day because it was surrounded by smoke from all the fires that Northern California experienced all summer. But the presence of the mountain could most definitely be felt. When I meditated, I felt some energy in my solar plexus (the third chakra) that I hadn't felt before. The energy was empowering. I was so glad to receive it because I didn't sleep well any of the nights we were there. I wish I could remember those dreams I had, because I was very close to the waking state while sleeping.

We met someone who lived nearby who had lived in San Francisco for many years but had been up in Shasta for a couple of years. I think he moved with his girlfriend but now he was living alone. He was asking about the flyers we had put up around the town and the area of the house for a missing macaw. My friends' bird flew up twenty plus feet into a tree the first night we were there. We could hear him in the trees below the house but couldn't see him. Miraculously he flew back to the house the next day after we left. What a miracle. He was famished and ate for hours. He also was making sounds he hadn't made before: growling, hissing, etc.

At the movie theatre the other night there were a few people hissing--politely! There must have been about 20 of us in a huge theatre that holds 150 people. It was a Monday night. The film we came to see was THE SISTERHOOD...2. My friend was the one who wanted to see it. She saw the first one; I hadn't. Now I try to support films that feature women and their stories. There are far too many crime scenes and war films out there starring, of course, men.

THE SISTERHOOD...2 and the pants was a bit too far-fetched. Even the sister of one of the characters explained that she had always been kept out of the pants group...the old high school clique, as it were. I'm not saying that "sisterhood" is a bad thing, but it could be more inclusive. Perhaps women in a group (like, for example, THE JANE AUSTEN BOOK CLUB) could have more of a reason to become close and establish friendship beyond clothing-- like pants...blue jeans, for that matter.

More specifically, if a rich person gets into art school it's still kind of a joke. The life drawings done by one of the characters who is studying at Rhode Island School of Design were almost like stick figures. And the character who goes on an archeological dig has to be immature enough to go into the area where danger signs/no entrance are posted everywhere. And the filmmaker is getting information for working on her script by being somewhat punkish and dismissive to the customers. Maybe this film should be re-named THE SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELLING POSE.

The Unforgettable Tour led to Mt. Shasta

I really love Bollywood. Although I don't know alot about it, every film I've seen I have liked for some reason. The actors are not only remembering lines, they are dancing really well. Consequently the Bollywood actors who performed in Oakland at the Coliseum (now called Oracle?) danced and lip synched. I really don't know which of them sang at all.

Meanwhile, we got there early. That was cool. Indian television was there with their camera. I was really happy when they called me over to talk in front of the camera. I gave my name from Amma (Charuta) and then Jennifer Glee etc. I was such a crazed fool. I couldn't say Aishwarya Rai's name, said my favorite Bollywood actor is Zayed Khan, my favorite actress of the night Preity Zinta. I forgot the name of the major star of the show, Mr. Bachchan. Oh, and, of course, said I always wanted to dance in one of the Bollywood films.

The actual night was quite long--no intermissions! The show was over four hours. We were all riveted to the stage or the huge monitor in the middle. I should mention that the attempt to abate global warming was a major theme of the show. Mr. Bachchan's wife (a former Bollywood actress) came out and addressed the issue.

I can't help but be disturbed by the effects of global warming. I went to Mt. Shasta this week. It was shrouded in smoke. The fires in this area have been going on for 6 weeks now. How many wildlife have been killed and homes lost?

My friends live there. They just moved from the city recently. Their macaw flew away from his cage to a nearby cedar tree. Then he flew out of site the next morning. My friends were crushed. The Humane Society came out and looked around. We spent the day putting up flyers around. I got to see the town of Shasta. Every northern town (Arcata, Mendocino, Eureka, Klamath) in California I've been to where there are a lot of people into alternative health issues has a great health food store. The main one of in Shasta is quite small. In fact, the town itself is quite small. I thought it would be larger.

Before I left yesterday we meditated on the bird's return. My friend said that the bird was "working." Today they heard the large, loud cries of the macaw a distance away. They somehow called the bird and he flew to a nearby tree and eventually flew into his cage. He seemed different, they said. He was tired!

IN BRUGES and The Unforgettable Tour

There is a baby moth flying around the room. I like that about summer: new things having arrived. I had adopted a kitten sometime around the 7th and returned her on the 12th. I felt so bad about that. But she was adopted practically be the time I was about to leave. She had arrived. Summer sometimes means seeing a film I wouldn't otherwise see or a show that is transformational...

The other night I watched IN BRUGES. A British film, it has alot of oddities about it. I was wondering if it were a crafty farce about "hitmen." Colin Farrell plays a "hitman" with the most depth we're allowed to plummet besides his buddy. Is there some thing I'm missing about Bosch and Bruges having something to do with these characters? The Farrell character is supposed to be offed by his buddy in Bruges. I even forget how this film ends. Too much unnecessary violence in the old town of Bruges.

Meanwhile, I 'm looking forward to seeing The Unforgettable Tour. Bollywood!! The colors, the songs, the dance! I forgot: I need a screen with English translations of the songs, like watching a video. Too bad Zayed Khan will not be there. So many Bollywood actors are so fine and comical at the same time.... and great dancers! It's so funny: the show is going to be as LONG as many Bollywood films are--3 plus hours!

Planet Glee for this Friday.

I noticed that accessf doesn't give any information about my show in advance. Some of other call-in shows get a paragraph about the show before it airs.

Anyway, I'm sitting here at the computer planning to how clear it so that I can do some artwork, i.e., Flash. If you want to see three of my four pieces, go to jenniferglee.com I miss painting.

So, I'm sitting here listening to New Order. i don't what's making me think about the notion of love they sing about. I really think they were/are ahead of their time. Maybe it's the disco aspect. Maybe it's because Joy Division had to happen first.

This week I have been cleaning. I found a photo from about 2000 when I had a friendship with a university student (graduating) who lived in a cooperative place. I met him at a music event. He played bansuri. I went to one of their (eventual) nudie parties. It was fun. To begin we all sat in groups that moved around and we were supposed to ask each other a prosribed personal question.

MC Rai and Rachid Taha rock!

Today I saw these two bands at Stern Grove. My friend and I have been so lucky to have found such great seats in the grove lately. I could dance. It was fun. A couple of ladies took pictures of me. Why, I don't know. I wish some men would have taken pictures of me, but many of the single guys there either didn't appeal to me or something. There was one guy there who looked like my now ex-love. I observed this guy at the end. I couldn't keep my eyes off the singer of MC Rai. I had seen him sing back in 2001 or so at the Bernal Heights Neighborhood Fair held in October. He was really impressive then, I thought. His voice sailed a little differently than now. Anyway, I ended up going out with the keyboard player back then. He's not in the band any more. I didn't see anyone from the original band in today's version. That's ok, they rocked.

When Rachid Taha was one, I couldn't see the stage as well at times. So I looked over to this guy who looked like... Anyway, he tried to pick up this one dark-haired woman in her early thirties with a very tight sweater and large breasts. I don't know why this matters. It doesn't, really. Maybe I'm just missing connection. It is so fun being on a cloud with a lover and gliding along together. I miss that.

But let's not forget Rachid. He was fabuleux!!! They rocked hard. I left there wishing I could dance professionally for one of these two bands on stage...with a tabourine, maybe. Easier to daydream about that than love right now.

Cognition vs. Perception, or why I like Bollywood.

Bro Jud had me watch a lecture on Cognition vs. Perception the other day. The lecture was by Mr. Robinson of the Psychology Department of Georgetown University. The argument meandered from Piaget and the measuring of the contents of one beeker of liquid after it is poured into another beeker. Are the contents the same? So, physics was also involved here. Cognition is propositional, he stated; perception is not. I suppose one could define one thing by saying it is not the other and leave it at that.

Bollywood does it all the time. The subject at hand is always love. What is love and what isn't, and what sounds like love and what doesn't. I wish I could remember the name of the Bollywood film I watched the other night. Sharukh Khan stars as a high-ranking member of the Indian army who is sent to rescue a girl whose father is in the army somehow. This girl is in college. Shahrukh's character (Ram) is supposed to find his long-lost brother at this college. So he goes to the college and poses as a student. I liked the songs the best. And Zayed Khan who plays the younger brother is funny.

MY BLUEBERRY NIGHTS, fireworks, and LE GAI SAVOIR

I've heard Norah Jones sing in concert. Who taught her how to sing that way? She does sing quite sublimely. Her singing can be heard in her first film, MY BLUEBERRY NIGHTS by Chinese director WAI. Visually it is quite interesting at times. The camera blurs that which is magical: love.

MY BLUEBERRY NIGHTS is a love story. It is, however, a film in which the actual characters and their names seem to be disjointed. The characters are somewhat cardboardish except for Jeremy, Jude Law's Englishman who runs a cafe which has blueberry pie for beautiful young women who want to lose the keys to their boyfriend's apartments. It is, after all, New York City.

Nonetheless what I liked about MY BLUEBERRY NIGHTS was the fact that a beautiful girl such as Elizabeth (Jones) could be dumped by someone her age for a another type of girl her age. This does seem vapid but every woman who has ever seen love flail when it seemed to solid will understand. A cute, mature English guy is the answer to most of the problems of women of English language-dominated cultures.

But, if you speak French, a French guy will do. While people were setting off fireworks around me, I was watching Godard's LE GAI SAVOIR. Another piece of never-ending genius is this film. Brechtolian and yet a collage of images and sound, LE GAI SAVOIR is a play without a play within the lives of two players and history.

TWO DAYS IN PARIS, or how could a film on MOLIERE be so dull.

Many times I find myself attracted to films which have an actor or two that I like in it or the setting or time frame are appealing. Julie Delpy's TWO DAYS IN PARIS is really well done, in the end. She is able to give a glimpse into her world as an international citizen and as a woman who grew up (and probably lives sometimes) in Paris.

Her character is hard to take sometimes because she is rude to her American boyfriend, played by an actor I don't really know. He's good at being a doormat, however. And yet he is also assertive in a crudely manly way in that he insists on taking all the pictures during their vacation (they live in NYC) despite the fact that she is a photographer by trade. She also has a visual acuity condition that is only mentioned during a portrayal of the pre-pubescent Marion (Julie).

Meanwhile, her parents--in fact everyone who speaks French--talks about the boyfriend while he understands nothing. Ah, love. And there are a few cab rides in which the fascistic undertone of the underclass is shown. Julie's parents are bourgeois.

The end of the film is one many women who may have married early and then not by their forties may find hard to take. This film is not light on details.

Another film which one might say is overly detailed is the latest film on MOLIERE. I remember seeing a film called MOLIERE from France when I was in graduate school. It was very different from this one. This one is like walking through the kennels of the animal shelter and never finding the way out until you just have to scream. Enough said.

The Mind of Mencia, the mind of fascism, or the lack of a mind.

Usually I don't watch the Comedy Channel on cable. It is a fascist arm of the Republican government. It is responsible for Bush's continued flailings in office.

Tonight I watched 8 minutes of the comedy show The Mind of Mencia. I think this show should be renamed The Mind of Fascism, or how to show you have no mind at all. The scenario shown which so offended me this time contained an actor portraying The Dalai Lama and another actor portraying (someone I would not know the name of if I didn't watch some television) John McCain. Giving any attention to the Republican candidate indicates that the entire US media is backing this elderly person.

It would be easier to watch any of the American mainstream media if one didn't have a mind of at all. Fascism fills in the void.

BROKE BACK MOUNTAIN, a broken heart, and a black cat.

It has been some time that I haven't wanted to see the film BROKE BACK MOUNTAIN. My friends had rented it this evening, and I actually did want to see it although I have been mostly bedridden these past couple of days. The film started with panning vistas and point-of-view shots from the main characters who barely spoke for the first 20 minutes or so. This is where I stopped watching and had to go. I will watch this film--really watch it.

The initial sexual tension of BROKE BACK left much to be desired for my broken heart. Yes, my lover of two and a half months are at an impasse. Perhaps this is why my lungs have been thrashed with this bronchitis I've had. Thankfully, the actual pain in my heart smothers the inner sea its own outpourings. (I was supposed to see the play "Tis Pity She's a Whore' this past Sunday.

I want to make black cats my somewhere on my body or in film or paint. They are great healers. Buddie Vacant took care of me this weekend. He's otherwise known as Punk Chunky.