(Warning: I have a tendency to over think things)
Sure, they're portrayed all attractive and sexy in the movies and in novels, but would you actually want to get jiggy with one. I mean, they're corpses. They're stone cold, all over. And, at some point during the proceedings, they are going to sink their over formed canine teeth into your sensitive flesh. And that is going to hurt. Seriously. As someone who has experienced the sinking of canine teeth into her sensitive flesh (courtesy of a friendly neighbourhood psycho cat), let me tell you, it bloody hurts. And vampire canines are considerably larger that those of felines.
Still, if viking-vampire Eric Northman wants to get cuddly with me, I'd find it very difficult to say no, although I'd probably ask him to "glamour" me into believing that his skin is warm and his fangs are gentle.
Wednesday 28 April 2010
Wednesday 21 April 2010
Deconstructing Daniel
Daniel is in the backyard of our block of flats. He is hanging clothes on the clothesline. He is also yelling at his girlfriend, Natalie, through their open window. He is using 'colourful' language and poor grammar. Natalie yells at him to "shut up and stop talking like a westie, the neighbours will hear". Daniel mumbles something and then is silent. He finishes hanging the clothes on the line and goes inside.
I have been overhearing Daniel's enraged outbursts for the last 3-4 years. The potential for his angry young man persona to get out of hand is always looming, but, so far, he has always managed to reign himself in. Apparently, one of his strongest motivations for curbing his anti-social behaviour is his fear that people will think he's a westie.
I have been overhearing Daniel's enraged outbursts for the last 3-4 years. The potential for his angry young man persona to get out of hand is always looming, but, so far, he has always managed to reign himself in. Apparently, one of his strongest motivations for curbing his anti-social behaviour is his fear that people will think he's a westie.
Friday 16 April 2010
Michel Foucault Can Kiss My Aneurism
[Sub-Heading: Intellectualism Rage Quit]
I've decided to try to improve the intellectualness of my brain. I know, I know, my IQ (self-assessed) is so high already that this would seem to be a pointless endeavour. But I'm a humble genius and live by the adage "it is possible, though very unlikely, that there are things in this world of which I do not have knowledge" (and quite a catchy adage I think, maybe one day someone will turn it into a rap song). So I've been attempting to read some books by French intellectual Michel Foucault (who decides that a person is an intellectual anyway? is there a vote?). I have 3 of his books on loan from the library - which I've listed in order of "started to read and then abandoned":
1) The Will To Knowledge: The history of sexuality, Vol. 1
2) Discipline And Punishment: The birth of the prison
3) The Archaeology Of Knowledge
Sex, discipline and knowledge – bring it on! Or not. Here are 3 seemingly interesting topics, surely riveting discussion would transpire. Alas, no. Or maybe it did, just not in any language I can understand (note: the books have been translated into English before anyone says: “they’re written in French, idiot. Merde.”).
Perhaps I’m being disrespectful. Academics may say: “you’re just an uneducated pleb, Nicole, you shouldn’t be reading such literature. These books were not written for you”. Then who the fuck were these books written for ??? Sorry – Then for whom the fuck were these books written??? The blurb on the back cover of The Archaeology Of Knowledge informs that “…Foucault was a man whose passion and reason were at the service of nearly every progressive cause of his time…he spearheaded public awareness of the dynamics that hold us all in thrall to a few powerful ideologies and interests.” How on earth did he spearhead public awareness if nobody could understand anything he’d written? What are these powerful ideologies and interests to which we are held in thrall? If it’s not explained to me in language I can follow (and let me remind the internet that I have read The Brothers Karamazov – I can handle the incomprehensible, up to a point, ie just before my brain explodes), then how will I be able to spot an evil ideology when I meet one? Maybe I should just trust intellectuals and leave progress in their incomprehensible hands? Perhaps important ideas shouldn’t be “dumbed down” for the stinky masses? Maybe we should let the intellectuals sort it out and then explain it to us in simpler terms? And why does the word ‘elitist’ keep fluttering through my brain?
I want to be able to think it out for myself. And intellectuals writing in incomprehensible jargon and monopolizing ideas makes this difficult. And makes me cranky. I should be able to go to an original paper, read it for myself and make my own conclusions. Even if that paper is written in French (for which I do not speak). (Although I think it’s perfectly acceptable to read the translated version).
But let me get back to the concept of “dumbing down”. Is there a fear in Academic Land that if a piece of writing is coherent it isn't worthy? Is it necessary to over-intellectualize to the point of inanity to ensure that "common" people can't understand it. I think a comprehensive intellectual piece of writing will require, on the part of the reader, a degree of concentration, occasional consultation with a dictionary, sobriety and rumination. But these things don’t render it unreadable. I found Michel Foucault to be (mostly) unreadable. And annoying. Here are some thoughts that meandered though my mind whilst I was attempting to read his writings:
I've decided to try to improve the intellectualness of my brain. I know, I know, my IQ (self-assessed) is so high already that this would seem to be a pointless endeavour. But I'm a humble genius and live by the adage "it is possible, though very unlikely, that there are things in this world of which I do not have knowledge" (and quite a catchy adage I think, maybe one day someone will turn it into a rap song). So I've been attempting to read some books by French intellectual Michel Foucault (who decides that a person is an intellectual anyway? is there a vote?). I have 3 of his books on loan from the library - which I've listed in order of "started to read and then abandoned":
1) The Will To Knowledge: The history of sexuality, Vol. 1
2) Discipline And Punishment: The birth of the prison
3) The Archaeology Of Knowledge
Sex, discipline and knowledge – bring it on! Or not. Here are 3 seemingly interesting topics, surely riveting discussion would transpire. Alas, no. Or maybe it did, just not in any language I can understand (note: the books have been translated into English before anyone says: “they’re written in French, idiot. Merde.”).
Perhaps I’m being disrespectful. Academics may say: “you’re just an uneducated pleb, Nicole, you shouldn’t be reading such literature. These books were not written for you”. Then who the fuck were these books written for ??? Sorry – Then for whom the fuck were these books written??? The blurb on the back cover of The Archaeology Of Knowledge informs that “…Foucault was a man whose passion and reason were at the service of nearly every progressive cause of his time…he spearheaded public awareness of the dynamics that hold us all in thrall to a few powerful ideologies and interests.” How on earth did he spearhead public awareness if nobody could understand anything he’d written? What are these powerful ideologies and interests to which we are held in thrall? If it’s not explained to me in language I can follow (and let me remind the internet that I have read The Brothers Karamazov – I can handle the incomprehensible, up to a point, ie just before my brain explodes), then how will I be able to spot an evil ideology when I meet one? Maybe I should just trust intellectuals and leave progress in their incomprehensible hands? Perhaps important ideas shouldn’t be “dumbed down” for the stinky masses? Maybe we should let the intellectuals sort it out and then explain it to us in simpler terms? And why does the word ‘elitist’ keep fluttering through my brain?
I want to be able to think it out for myself. And intellectuals writing in incomprehensible jargon and monopolizing ideas makes this difficult. And makes me cranky. I should be able to go to an original paper, read it for myself and make my own conclusions. Even if that paper is written in French (for which I do not speak). (Although I think it’s perfectly acceptable to read the translated version).
But let me get back to the concept of “dumbing down”. Is there a fear in Academic Land that if a piece of writing is coherent it isn't worthy? Is it necessary to over-intellectualize to the point of inanity to ensure that "common" people can't understand it. I think a comprehensive intellectual piece of writing will require, on the part of the reader, a degree of concentration, occasional consultation with a dictionary, sobriety and rumination. But these things don’t render it unreadable. I found Michel Foucault to be (mostly) unreadable. And annoying. Here are some thoughts that meandered though my mind whilst I was attempting to read his writings:
- this is overly abstract
- this doesn’t make sense
- this is very obscure
- get your claws out of my leg, Willow
- I disagree with this generalization
- are you going to back up this generalization with some evidence?
- Willow is so cute when she sleeping – she’s gone all twitchy
- I strongly disagree with this generalization even though I don’t understand it
- this sentence is too long...
- ...and poorly worded...
- ...and contains too many ideas...
- ...and conveys no meaning
- I wish season 2 of True Blood was already available on DVD
- oh my god! I can’t remember the last 20 minutes
- this cryptic generalization is very sweeping
- this paragraph is imbued with a specific vagueness
- how long has it been since my last cup of tea?
- has this been written in some kind of code?
- get to the point already! Jesus…
- ..Mary and Joseph
- I think Alexander Skarsgård would be impressed that I’m reading Foucault and, because of this, become completely besotted with me, and, as a consequence, would find it necessary to get wild with me…
- …[this thought requires an “adult content” warning]
- dammit, I’m going to make another cup of tea even though I haven’t finished my current one
Thursday 8 April 2010
Whose Body Is It???
My lust for vampire Eric Northman continues (a lust that has crossed over, unsurprisingly, into a lust for the Swedish actor who plays him, Alexander Skarsgård). I'm patiently (mostly) waiting for season 2 of True Blood to be released on DVD. In the meantime, I've been watching videos of season 2 Eric on YouTube, as well as watching videos of Alexander in Swedish productions. I've also been doing some undirected research on the internet to find out miscellaneous stuff about Alexander (I was shocked to discover that I'm not the only person who has hotpants for him - imagine that!). Anyways, my point in all this (and the reason for the title of this blog entry) is that it appears the photo of Eric lying naked in white sheets (which I put up on my previous post) is a FAKE! Holy Toledo, Batman! Apparently, Alexander Skarsgård has said that it isn't him in the photo because "he doesn't shave his underarms".
So, being of an inquisitive nature (and having lots of free time), I looked into this pressing issue. And I've come to the conclusion that the photo is, indeed, a FAKE. Some enterprising fan has photoshopped the head of Eric Northman from a True Blood promotional photo:
So, being of an inquisitive nature (and having lots of free time), I looked into this pressing issue. And I've come to the conclusion that the photo is, indeed, a FAKE. Some enterprising fan has photoshopped the head of Eric Northman from a True Blood promotional photo:
onto the body of a naked-white-sheet-enmeshed man, who DOES shave his underarms:
Shifty. (Check out the matching facial expressions and, especially, the hair!).
Of course, now I need to have an authentic photo of the authentic naked chest of Alexander Skarsgård for my blog, and here it is:
(this is a screenshot from the HBO mini-series Generation Kill, in which Alexander plays Sgt. Brad "Iceman" Colbert).
I chose this picture (from amongst a number of pictures of shirtless Alexander) as Alexander's head-neck connection is clearly visible, which, I believe, provides a strong indication that the picture is unlikely to have been doctored. Unfortunately, however, since his underarms are not visible, absolute proof of the authenticity of Alexander's chest in this photo cannot be confirmed.
Sunday 4 April 2010
Distracted!
Can't think of anything to blog about, too busy watching True Blood. And obsessing about vampire Eric. So, instead, here are some photos of, um, well, vampire Eric.
This is Eric as a viking, prior to being turned into a vampire:
Here he is as a bad-ass vampire:
And, finally, this last photo shows that Eric looks after his body; he works out and he only drinks low-fat blood. And he makes sure he gets plenty of rest:
This is Eric as a viking, prior to being turned into a vampire:
Here he is as a bad-ass vampire:
And, finally, this last photo shows that Eric looks after his body; he works out and he only drinks low-fat blood. And he makes sure he gets plenty of rest:
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