I am trying to win a new camcorder, one that actually works with my new Macbook, and there is a perfect one someone’s giving away!
You yourself can enter here.
The camcorder in question is the Everio GZ-MG630 and the contest is sponsored by JVC. The camera is this one.
My documentary is going pretty well and right now I have the release slated for Easter!! I wanted to release this week but unfortunately I have encountered numerous problems. I swear I am working through it.
But I have realized, I might need 2 things to make it the best.
1. New computer that I might be getting for graduation with the NEW iMovie with BETTER features that I will need (like separation of audio and video) for true documentary style
2. A camcorder. (FAT CHANCE). I’m entering a contest to win one but until then, I am working with what I got.
I’ll keep you updated as it progresses!
It was a beautiful day in the 70s and sunny. It reminds me about how I need to do some spring cleaning. Especially when it comes to clothes. I don’t have a lot of variety but I do have a lot of clothes, simply because a lot of them don’t fit, after so many washings a lot of them come short and in general my winter palette is much more boring than I spring one 🙂
A picture of my closet for inspiration..
From Network (1976):
Howard Beale: I don’t have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It’s a depression. Everybody’s out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel’s work, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there’s nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there’s no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TV’s while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that’s the way it’s supposed to be. We know things are bad – worse than bad. They’re crazy. It’s like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don’t go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, ‘Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won’t say anything. Just leave us alone.’ Well, I’m not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get mad! I don’t want you to protest. I don’t want you to riot – I don’t want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn’t know what to tell you to write. I don’t know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you’ve got to get mad.
Howard Beale: [shouting] You’ve got to say, ‘I’m a HUMAN BEING, Goddamnit! My life has VALUE!’ So I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, and stick your head out, and yell,
Howard Beale: ‘I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!’ I want you to get up right now, sit up, go to your windows, open them and stick your head out and yell – ‘I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!’ Things have got to change. But first, you’ve gotta get mad!… You’ve got to say, ‘I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!’ Then we’ll figure out what to do about the depression and the inflation and the oil crisis. But first get up out of your chairs, open the window, stick your head out, and yell, and say it:
Howard Beale: [screaming at the top of his lungs] “I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!”
I Drew This:
Maureen Dowd, not exactly the sharpest nail in the toolbox as it is, posits that Barack Obama takes himself too seriously:
“Many of the late-night comics and their writers — nearly all white — now admit to The New York Times’s Bill Carter that because of race and because there is nothing “buffoonish” about Obama …
At first blush, it would seem to be a positive for Obama that he is hard to mock. But on second thought, is it another sign that he’s trying so hard to be perfect that it’s stultifying? Or that eight years of W. and Cheney have robbed Democratic voters of their sense of humor? …
[I]f Obama gets elected and there is nothing funny about him, it won’t be the economy that’s depressed. It will be the rest of us.
You heard it here first, folks. It is a requirement for a president to be silly in some way, otherwise he’s “stultifying” in a way that will “depress” comedy writers, and, oh, the rest of us.”
I’m getting a little tired of these oddball ideals that the media considers important for leaders of a nation. Awareness of the issues? The ability to delegate wisely? Keen judgment during crucial diplomatic and economic junctures? No, you gotta want to have a beer with him. You gotta be able to laugh at him. Haw! Haw!
This lackadaisical attitude can’t possibly resonate with a voter faced with a horrible economy and a spiralling out-of-control war. In 2000, it was easier to be complacent and assume the President was a goofy figurehead who had no influence on the greater power of law. We know differently now. I think more and more voters are willing to skip the beer and laughs in order to point to their broken lives screaming “Fix it!” In order to inspire the confidence of a world-weary populace, you pretty much have to throw away the clown makeup.
I was listening to Fiona Apple’s “Better Version of Me” and it got me thinking. What would be the better version of me? Who would she be, what would she be doing? Would she have a smaller nose, be on less medication, have a better voice, be less awkward? I’d say yes. Maybe, a “hell yes”. She would be smarter, harder working, more wise, caring, and active.
To be honest, with my jealousy being perhaps the worst part of me, if I met a better version of myself I would most likely resent her. In some ways my sister is a better version of me. I’m a bit more in shape, but she has the rest of the good genes, is much smarter and more likeable than I. In some ways I do resent it, but when I sit and think about it, we have our own talents. Me, for arguing, and a passion for social justice (they go hand in hand, RIGHT?), being adventurous and having a lot of passion. She, for her compassion and unending patience. At this point most of the childish resentment has grown into admiration.
Speaking of social justice, the letter I received from my pen pal on death row was so amazing. From the beginning he has been totally honest. He told me how much he has the need to feel, he told me about his childhood even, and I was so moved. I really look forward to what continues in our friendship and will most likely be a life-changing experience. It was interesting how he stated that music can depress him because it reminds him of what might have been. In a sense the Fiona Apple song did remind me of what I could have been and what I couldn’t be and what I have the potential to be. It can be a bit depressing. But at the same time, I think it something that takes a lot of thought and it is something that needs to be thought out, if only to aid my own mental health.