John Waters invades Hoff Theater

For you foreigners (i.e. non-Marylanders), you may want to click the link to see who John Waters is. However, I think most of the "clueless" are even familiar with him for his infamous Pink Flamingos or successful Hairspray (the damn thing is even being remade as a film based on the Broadway play based on his film).

At any rate, that was the funniest thing I've ever seen in person. It was billed as a lecture, but it was really a stand-up routine based on his experiences. My face was actually sore from laughing. He talked a lot about Divine, his influences, and there was a great deal of "limits" discussed. People brand him as completely outrageous (something I couldn't possible relate to, she says with heavy sarcasm), but even he has limits and is surprised by things or how others interpret them. For example, he taught at a correctional facility in Maryland for awhile. His students were murderers and after he screened Pink Flamingos, they told him he was totally fucked up. I wish I could remember all the zingers.

I was shocked that the place wasn't packed. Allie and I got there a little more than an hour before the doors were scheduled to open anticipating a huge line, but we found ourselves first in line. It's probably because half of the students at the University of Maryland hail from New York and New Jersey and don't have much of a clue about him!

This was a great thing to go to. While I've been lamenting the sadness I feel for leaving D.C. behind, there really hasn't been much thought about leaving Maryland and its "culture" and familiarity. John Waters is foremost a Baltimore icon, but he's really a Maryland icon as well. While I don't subscribe to Baltimore Culture (I'm a Washingtonian, dammit) nor do I have particular fondness for the clueless rednecks he often puts on screen, it's something I've grown up with that has had a particular impact (and probably exposure) because of my Maryland residency.

And you know he's Maryland pride when he doesn't tell some ridiculous crabs joke unlike other celebrity guests (hello, B.D. Wong!).

give Maggie Gyllenhaal a round of applause

From the Bible (see left for translation, if needed)'s industry news:

Gyllenhaal Website Shut Down by Protesters

Maggie Gyllenhaal's fan website, maggie-gyllenhaal.net, was inundated with angry messages and had to be shut down Wednesday following Gyllenhaal's remarks during an interview promoting her new film, which concerns people living in New York in the aftermath of the World Trade Center attacks. Appearing on the all-news channel NY1 on Friday following a screening of The Great New Wonderful at the Tribeca Film Festival, Gyllenhaal commented enigmatically: "I think America has done reprehensible things and is responsible in some way and so I think the delicacy with which it's dealt allows that to sort of creep in." News reports quoted her as saying that she believed America was "responsible in some way" for the attacks. The webmaster on the fan site said that it became overloaded with hate messages and crashed. Gyllenhaal issued a statement saying she grieved with every other American for those who died in the attacks, "but for those of us who were spared, it was also an occasion to be brave enough to ask some serious questions about America's role in the world."

It's absolutely ridiculous--but of course I'm not surprised--that there should be such an outcry and blasting of her. I support her 100%, and I think she made the point more delicately than I ever could with my blunt, no bullshit mouth. This ridiculous pigheadedness and "pride" is what got us in the mess in the first place. So no surprise there.

Hong Kong penis study

Researchers in Hong Kong set out to dispel the myth that Chinese men are smaller and therefore have inferior sexuality ability than Western men. And they did: "'Our conclusion is that Hong Kong people are no smaller than western men, where their penises are concerned,' said Chan Lung-wai, director of the Urology Centre at the Union Hospital, who headed the study."

How different nationalities fared (averages): Chinese 8.46 cm (3.4 inches), Germans 8.6 cm, Israelis 8.3 cm, Turks 7.8 cm, Filippinos 7.35 cm, Italians 9 cm (the longest!), and Americans 8.8 cm.

Research suggests that height bears no indication of size, and men with more fat tend to have smaller penises (having to do with blood vessels). But of course these are flaccid penises. I thought that a flaccid penis really didn’t indicate erection size. Maybe my male audience can weigh in on this.

Besides, I maintain it’s all in the hands.

what happens when cousins marry

I was browsing the Washington Post website in an effort to procrastinate when I came across this rather, um, interesting article on a pair of first cousins from the Altoona, Penn. vicinity who recently wed in Maryland. Yes, Maryland and nineteen other states and the District of Columbia permit first cousins to marry. I had no clue; I thought this was something outlawed in all but Kentucky or West Virginia. I don't know about California's status, but there may be hope for George Michael and Maeby.

What made me really chuckle while reading this article was to see how well this couple fits the stereotype of redneck first cousins in love. He's unemployed, she works at Wal-Wart. They live in a trailer with pets named Beavis and Butthead (postmodern play or coincidence?). They smoke. They frequent Red Lobster. And they went all the way from Altoona to Calvert County (Southern Maryland) to wed. That is one long haul that probably bypassed many other redneck outposts in Maryland along the way.

16th Street apartment buildings

So I haven't written in awhile, but I've been insanely busy with my thesis. Of course the reason I'm writing now is partly to procrastinate from the enormous amount of work I should be doing. Somehow listening and taking notes on 5 interviews (which I conducted) just isn't that appealing.

Part of the work I've had to do involved driving down 16th Street four days in a row. You know how much I hate driving in the city--mainly due to parking--but it couldn't be avoided and I knew parking wouldn't be that big a deal. Anyway, the point is that it reminded me how much I love the apartment buildings on 16th Street from Meridian Hill to U Street. I'm going to miss them. Sure some of them are typical conservative architecture, but there are a few marvelous modern and Art Deco gems. But just to see the strip of apartment buildings thrills me. I'm weird, we know this.

Get Arrested!

No, I'm not telling you to do anything illegal. I'm asking you to pledge your support for Arrested Development. We know I don't watch television. In fact, I'm asking you to save a show that I have only seen one of two seasons of--having only recently succumbed to the pressure to rent the first season on DVD. So either I'm going to watch the second season in reruns if they pledge to play the whole thing in order or wait for the DVD. Not only is this show fucking hilarious, clever, fresh, etc., but ladies, just click that link and look at the photo of Jason Bateman. In those suits, damn, he rivals Topher Grace. I feel like such a teeny bopper, but really, men, learn from that kind of style--please.

a saddening realization

Yesterday, as I dashed from a variety of spots in downtown Washington picking up research materials for my thesis, I found myself in the Visitor Information Center of the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center (that neo-Neoclassical monstrosity) getting some materials put out by the DC Convention and Tourism Corporation. I walked around looking at the various crap sold there as well as the many brochures for "the sites." And it hit me, I am really going to miss D.C.--it's my city, dammit. No, I'm not one of those idiot suburbanites that tells others they are from Washington when they really live in some miserable suburb. Yes, I live in a miserable suburb and I fully admit that, because I'm highly conscious of the tensions between the city and the suburbs. But I was actually born in the city, and should I ever return to this area to live, it will be in the city. I spend a lot of time in Washington taking advantage of all the cultural activities. D.C. is unparalleled in the concentration and quality of free culture. Of course I find culture in things that perhaps most wouldn't label as such--everyday things like nondescript rowhouses in less fashionable parts of the city. So of course I can find my free culture anywhere, but still I'm going to miss the variety, easy access, and concentration of all levels. Yes, L.A. has many cultural institutions, but they're spread out and not free (remember, grad students are paupers). At the root of this is actually a realization that I will be leaving everything I know, and though I don't think I take it for granted, it's hitting me that I will be leaving behind a lot more than the people I am in constant contact with. This is somewhat ironic since I am so obsessed with the built environment, and yet I had never considered the sadness I might feel leaving this environment behind. (No regrets about the suburbs, I assure you.) But there's also some sort of connection I feel overall, that I cannot articulate, for this city. I hope I can load up on the D.C. stamp and take it with me across the country.

word play in the middle of the night

Epiphanies happen at the oddest moments for me. Why is it that it just occurred to me that there may be a connection between my affinity for the French and the fact that my last name means "Frenchman" yet I have no French heritage? This epiphany happened in the middle of an email in the middle of the night.

P.S. Look at the shared roots of Stephainie and epiphany. This is so much fun.

ninety-nine thousand and counting

Well, this evening on my way home, in a hurry as usual, I just couldn't take it--especially after being stood up for the first time ever. Mind you, I had spent an hour and a half trapped in traffic just a couple of hours earlier. So I did it, I passed a geriatric going the 25 mph speed limit on Twinbrook Parkway at 10:00 p.m. And I passed her on the right (she was too far to the left to do it safely). And as I did it, my car hit 99,000 miles. I couldn't have found a better way to celebrate.

France embraces commercial film?

So Allie sent me this link, which is titled "The Rise of Le Blockbuster" on the IMDB hit list (perhaps our favorite source of news even though we actually refer to their gossip page as "the news"). At any rate, I think it has caused me to have an identity crisis regarding my love of French cinema. I rather prefer the quaint, quirky, brief, no-thrills films they tend to produce. Okay, so I've long disliked French thrillers (which don't thrill), especially if marked by Claude Chabrol (how can you be held in suspense if you know who the bad guy is and why s/he's doing what s/he is through the entire film?). But I digress...

The French blockbusters this article refers to should not be confused with the junk blockbusters we never see like the Taxi series (but unfortunately, like so many French films--good or bad--was remade for American audiences). Amelie is somehow seen as the catalyst for this new foray into commercialism. I like Amelie--hell, we know I really liked the haircut since I had it for quite awhile--but I do think it's overrated. I actually prefer A Very Long Engagement despite the gore we know I can't take. But that movie--the most expensive in French film history, I believe--was legally declared not French enough to compete at Cannes and the like for taking money from American Warner Independent Pictures. As if Americans could make a film with that attitude toward World War I! But yet The Chorus, a recent blockbuster made on a small budget because it really is a small film, is so very American right down to its structure with needless framing from the present day and a happy ending that really is an ending that doesn't leave you wondering what happened after "the story" ends.

So what am I supposed to make of all this? I don't know, but hopefully this doesn't push out the "market" for those French films I think are so quintessentially French. And yes, I love Francis Veber films.

Dot, Dot, Dots...

Does anyone actually understand the directions for how to properly open a box of Dots so that the dispenser works? Seriously.

"Our Incredible Shrinking Curiosity"

Damn positivists. Yes, this humanist has linked you to an article on scientific research. It's an interesting look at how science has traditionally been about investigating for the sake of knowledge and led to incredible, unexpected discoveries. Now, the focus has shifted to research with specific end goals. Especially as a humanist it's frightening to see that clearly the balance is shifted far away from the favor of those interested in knowledge for knowledge and enrichment. It's also, I think, another testament to the growing animosity to intellectualism we face in this day in age in this ridiculous country. That's right, my rebel status was just elevated.

Google, oh Google, where art thou?

You know, I don't think this blog (or any Blogger.com/blogspot.com) is actually picked up in Google searches. After my experiment with Topher Grace, I decided to Google my name. Well, of course there are zillions of Stephanie Franks (oh how I remember the emails I used to get asking if I went to such and such high school in 1977, before I was even born). Anyway, I got impatient with sifting through those so I tried to search "ridiculous authenticity" and got tons of hits but the blog wasn't showing up. This afternoon it occurred to me to search my name with ridiculous. 6 hits. None of them was the blog, but one was a Tripod webpage on Freaks & Geeks that featured a "reprinting" of my April 2000 article in the Washington Post on the show. Probably an illegal use of the article (I'm not even sure I own the reprinting rights), but good to see that someone could find that if they wanted to. Of course I also have PDFs for those interested.

P.S.

I Googled Topher Grace. He gets 206,000 hits. This blog was not one of them on the first couple of pages. Maybe he's patient or egomaniacal and will find it.

Why I Heart Topher Grace

Who is Topher Grace? Mind you I don't really watch television, but I thought people knew about That 70s Show and its star--so check the link above if you are still puzzled. He's also made some movies, of course, otherwise I'd have practically no exposure to him.

At any rate, he is the current poster boy for my archetype (not to be confused with my architect...and I don't even have an architect). That means he embodies my particular fondness for tall, slightly built (meaning skinny not somewhat buff) men with dark hair and fair skin. If only he had some prominent sideburns and constant stubble, I would not be able to control myself. Okay, we know I can always control myself, but you know what I mean. I remember commenting on that during a preview of In Good Company before seeing Ocean's Twelve at the Hoff Theater...and then bam! he appears moments later with many day's worth of stubble (and scary long hair, but it was probably a wig).

So you're surprised that this is what I find attractive? (Of course those of you reading this probably already know about this so it's sort of redundant or maybe I'm writing to an audience that doesn't exist.) Plenty of those skinny boys don't even seem to get why I go ga-ga for those types of men. Who knows why this is my preference. I mean, why do men like my generous chest so much?

This is just a physical infatuation, but he doesn't strike me as moronic. Then again, he supposedly, at age 20, dropped out of the very university I will be entering at age 22 for my Ph.D. (USC people, get with it).

So why am I writing this? Well, why does anyone write anything in a blog? And we know I'm all about the ridiculous. But then again, perhaps a single Topher Grace look-a-like is reading and wants a date. Hell, maybe Topher Grace is reading this and wants to know he's appreciated and wants a date. Yeah, I know, very ridiculous, but maybe he Googles himself once in awhile. I know I do.

You know it's spring when...

Well, first, if you've been paying attention you'll see I've done some redesigning, with the possibility of future edits. Eventually my list of links (especially articles of interest) will become obnoxiously long and we'll have to figure out the best way to deal with it. We'll--as if you're going to have any input.

You know it's spring when the sun poisoning starts. What on earth compelled me to go outside and expose myself to that star I know I'm allergic to? I guess it was bound to happen. But basically I itch all over, especially in parts "kissed" (or should I say bitten?) by the sun. We know there's no such thing as a tan for this fair-skinned girl. I wonder what will happen when I move to the land of sunshine (Los Angeles for those that haven't learned the big news).

Introduction

Well, people have been telling me for quite awhile that I need to start a blog--and now I've gone and done it. I'm afraid they'll probably be disappointed that it lacks the kind of information they were looking for. I also don't know how successful this will be since I am an oral storyteller.

Well, on with the show...

Why the title? It juxtaposes my favorite word (ridiculous) with my least favorite (authenticity).