— C. S. Lewis
St. Patrick’s Day
Today’s St. Patrick’s Day, which means an excuse to pretend you’re an Irish drunkard who forgot what Lent was and decided it was Carnival all over again.
I hate this day. Maybe it’s the association with the copious amounts of alcohol consumed and the prospect of even MORE cops out on the street desperately trying to fill up their quotas.
Or maybe it’s because of the horrible horrible memories of incessantly being pinched by stupid elementary and middle schoolers. I mean what’s the point of being subjugated to such a form of torture outside of being the target of sheer juvenile malice?
Well according to the Christian Science Moniter:
[I]t’s an entirely American tradition that probably started in the early 1700s. St. Patrick’s revelers thought wearing green made one invisible to leprechauns, fairy creatures who would pinch anyone they could see (anyone not wearing green). People began pinching those who didn’t wear green as a reminder that leprechauns would sneak up and pinch green-abstainers.
What a stupid tradition (leprechauns can’t be that bad right?). Doesn’t pinching people then insinuate that you are a leprechaun? Anyhow, it made elementary school crappy back then. I didn’t (and still don’t) have anything green on any of my clothes. I am not about to buy clothes for the sake of one holiday. Hell I’m not even Catholic (or Irish for that matter). Which lends to the question of why does every non-Irish and non-Catholic celebrate it? There really isn’t a point to. I guess it’s to fit in or something, like how everyone celebrates Christmas without being - well - Christian.
Anyhow, off to drinking water and sitting around being boring.
Memento and other stuff
So where are you? You’re in some motel room. You just - you just wake up and you’re in - in a motel room. There’s the key. It feels like maybe it’s just the first time you’ve been there, but perhaps you’ve been there for a week, three months. It’s - it’s kind of hard to say. I don’t - I don’t know. It’s just an anonymous room.
Memento is a movie directed by Christopher Nolan (Dark Knight, Inception; If you haven’t seen, let alone heard of those two movies get out from under that rock) in 2000. It stars Guy Pearce, who plays a Leonard (Lenny) Shelley who got anterograde amnesia after witnessing the rape and murder of his wife. So he self-efficaces his body to remind himself of this and decides to seek revenge on the man who did all this. That’s not sad or anything.

This guy loves his tattooed memorabilia.
The movie plays both backwards and forwards, with the backwards scenes in color and the other scenes in black and white. The result is that there seem to be two separate threads, one that begins at chronologically the end of the story and the other that begins at, well, the beginning and they eventually come together at the end of the film. It’s a really interesting and well thought out device that captures much of Lenny’s psyche and the confusion that he feels as he gets taken advantage of by just about everyone he meets because of his condition, as well as adds a certain layer of ambiguity since there is no reliable narrator (the movie is viewed from an amnesiac’s point of view). The movie is thought provoking, bringing up deep thematic ideas that honestly are rarely seen in other movies.
I highly recommend this film, partially because I like Christopher Nolan’s style, and partially because objectively it is one of the better movies I’ve seen.
In other news, The Big Lebowski is overrated. I don’t care if Lauren Faust has a massive crush on it and snuck references into Foster and My Little Pony, the plot is crappy. And that’s saddening, because disregarding the plot it’s funny as hell.
Also 50/50 is good, definitely recommend on Seth Rogen’s performance alone, although Joseph Gordon-Levitt was real good. Anna Kendrick was ok, but it’s hard to evaluate her performance on 20 minutes of screentime based on the role she played. The movie was a little sappy at the end, and I’m not sure if I liked Levitt’s character development but whatever the movie was enjoyable nonetheless.
I figure that every week or two I’m going to churn out thoughts on movies that I’ve watched that I feel like typing random stuff about.
Graduation speech rant and such
So I was asked (read: guilt-tripped) into giving the Valedictory address for graduation, which means lots of people get to listen to my beautiful voice and admire my radiant demeanor now. Splendid. Normally I’d be perfectly OK with giving a fantastically eloquent speech to about 775 seniors and about 3k-4000 other people, but there’s a couple things that irk me a little bit:
1) I only get like two minutes for my speech. How do I say something meaningful when I only get two minutes? I actually feel sorry for the other people who have to try out for a speech because they only get one minute to do anything. That’s impossible. I know being terse is good but this is ridiculously short.
2) The graduation theme…isn’t well worded. The theme, in verbatim, is “Tonight we are young.” The hell? Of course we’re young, we may be high school graduates going off to better and brighter things, but that doesn’t change the fact that most people graduating are 17-18 years old with 50-70 more years ahead of them. And why is it that we are young “tonight.” You mean we weren’t young before? It’s like one of those things that they say at retirement homes during happy hour or some shit where they do some 50s dance: “Gee wilikers Jim do we feel young tonight!” Sounds appropriate for high school graduation. Honestly, why even have a theme at all? Is it even necessary to force some arbitrary meaning upon graduation? All it does is constrict the freedom for people from speaking from their heart at graduation; for each person graduating, leaving high school can signify something completely different from anyone else. So why force a theme? The whole thing just seems trite and poorly thought out.
Despite my complaining (I’m not whining, I’m complaining!), rest assured that I’m still gonna write something kick-ass. And it’ll blow peoples’ MINDS. MINDS.