knowitallgirl

Whitewashing?

I've been turning an issue over and over in my head the past few days, motivated by an interview I heard a portion of yesterday on Fresh Air with Nigerian-born actor Chiwetel Ejiofor: what does it mean when a non-white actor takes a role written for a white actor? I was either reading or listening to something about this recently regarding Asian-Americans taking "white" roles (if I can recall where I saw this, I'll update this post), where the criticism focused on non-white actors essentially not being represented in entertainment and being forced to take "stock" roles that had nothing to do with their identity as non-white people. On Fresh Air, Terry was asking Chiwetel about acting in a play written in the 1920s (was listening while driving, so can't remember the play) where the actors playing his parents were white, and ostensibly the character he was playing was "white" though he is, in fact, Nigerian and thus dark-skinned. She said that the ethnic differences between him and his "parents" might affect the believability of the play, and Chiwetel argued excellently that it wasn't relevant. His focus was on the content and message the play was communicating and not any sense that it somehow had to "trick" the audience into thinking it was "real life."

I fall in on the side of Chiwetel. I've been wondering for many years why Hollywood doesn't use more non-white actors everywhere (in starring roles and not just as stock background characters) without there being any reference to ethnicity. I don't think of this as whitewashing (making the ethnic characters more "white") as much as trying to create a real representation of the world. I know plenty of non-white people whose ethnicity, while being a rich part of who they are, has little to do with how they interact in the day-to-day world. Why can't we have non-white actors who aren't just some shallow stereotype of an Asian Guy or a African-American Girl? Why can't Julia Roberts have an Asian boyfriend without the storyline revolving around his Asianness or her whiteness? In the several interracial relationships in my own family, ethnic differences are definitely an asset but not a source for drama. The fact that my family has rice with every meal and we don't wear shoes in the house just isn't a big deal, it just makes us different from typical white families and the same as most Asian ones.

I know, of course, that for many people interracial relationships are a Big Deal. And I by no means wish to belittle the paucity of non-white roles in the entertainment industry. But at the same time I think that one of the biggest steps forward that Hollywood could take would to cast more non-white actors in what I would call non-stereotyped roles. Not every African-American is a gangsta from the hood, not every Hispanic/Latino American has a Mexican accent, and so on. In fact, I think it would go a long way in defining what one might call "normal, regular people" in this country -- instead of purely being a domain for the white middle class, "normal, regular people" might also include white folks who celebrate Chinese New Year and Asians who like, oh, say, Baseball and Apple Pie?

Blissful ignorance

I'm having one of those days where I feel like the entire world is becoming unhinged. The political system in California seems as if it's near a total meltdown. Our infrastructure is falling apart. I encountered my first homeless person sleeping on the sidewalk in front of my new apartment last night. More and more tech jobs, like manufacturing was in the 80s, are being shipped overseas. Consumer confidence, which appears to be the only thing that keeps our economy alive (which has to be one of the biggest signs our economy is built upon total bullshit), is way down. In short, everything appears to S-U-C-K. Am I just reading too much? Are things really not that bad but the papers are just focused on nothing but?

I want to crawl back into bed.

.:braindead:.

Too much going on lately. Moving boyfriend into new apartment (soon to be followed by me), work heating up, all contributing to a brain that can't seem to muster the energy to write. Hoping creative inspiration will come again soon . . . instead, here's a haiku my friend Jen sent me:

Group sex would be great
If it weren’t for this sad truth:
People have elbows.

Bambi hoax?

I wondered from the start if Bambi was a hoax, and here's some evidence asserting it, at Snopes.com. I've closed the comments on the original posting now as I think we've heard from about every perspective at this point (thanks to all of you, enjoyed the diversity of opinion greatly). Even if this was a hoax, in some ways I'm glad it was outrageous enough to spark some debate, although one reader rightly pointed out we should be more concerned with what's going on in Iraq than paintball in the Nevada desert. Personally, I've always been a fan of Joey Skaggs' hoaxes, which are far more thoughtful than Bambi (Joey weighs in on Bambi here). Check out his personal history of hoaxes dating back to 1966.

Update: here's an excellent recap on how the hoax spread, compliments of MeFi. Glad it's not true, but I'd call this fraud and not a hoax -- instead of just mindfucking us they were trying to sell videos, which in my mind makes them bigger scum. It's one thing to get our collective feminist panties in a knot, it's another to do it to make some cash.

Big Brother's Clapper

A friend and I were discussing recently how the next big moneymaker in tech will be something simple that allows you to solve a common household problem, like finding your keys. Not surprisingly, Steve Wozinak is well ahead of us, with a low speed wireless network that uses GPS to find not only your keys but your pets and kids as well. Undoubtedly this will work better than the system The Sharper Image is selling for fifty bucks (only useful for finding things in a 30ft. radius, not good for stray kids or kitties). In fact, it will probably work so well that it will bring up a host of side issues, such as "Can I get one of those gizmos implanted in my kid?" and "Could we use these on convicted felons?"

Welcome to the future, folks, where you'll never be able to "get away" because you'll be findable at all times by anyone. Anyone a little nervous yet?

Bambi revisted

Update: Not surprised that people are protesting Hunting for Bambi, but interesting to see that the Mayor of Las Vegas is actually getting in on the action. Quote: "Las Vegas is a place where anything goes, but this crosses the line if this is real." Amazing words from Sin City.

Eff - bee - eye

Thanks to my favorite paranoid, Encyclopedia Contois, for passing along this story that should make you nervous about reading your copy of The Anarchist's Cookbook at your local Starfuck's . . .

Sinking . . .

I just found out I'm in the Chronicle today, responding to a question about dropping rent prices in San Francisco. The print version has a mediocre photo of me as well. This is the second time I've been in the Chron over dropping rents (I was interviewed for an article when it first started happening in 2001). Fun!

Alien abduction?

Overheard on the Glen Park BART station intercom this morning at 7:12am:

"That Pittsburgh train just disappeared.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Dat's what I'm sayin', it was here and now it's gone. It's supposed to be in Glen Park right now, and it's gone off the screen!

Yeah.

Uh-huh."

*intercom disconnects*

Somehow I don't think we were supposed to overhear that.

J-e-n-n-i-f-e-r J-u-n-i-p-e-r

It's official. Jennifer was the top girls' name in the U.S. from 1970-1984 (eclipsed by another "J" name, Jessica, in 1985). The anguish I suffer is validated (supported also by the fact there were 5 Jennifer Kings at my university). Perhaps this is why I find myself attracted to someone (namely Deneb) who doesn't have this problem?

My life is a struggle to prove I am not generic. Heh. I will name my kids something uncommon and they will hate me.

Hunting Bambi

Ah, here's a high point for humanity -- hunting naked women using paintball guns, courtesy of the cultural mecca of Las Vegas. To quote my friend Leslie, "GROSS." As always, the best money you can make as a unskilled woman is as a sex object for the male libido. Ironic that this is "adult" entertainment (seems well-suited for teenage boys). The "inventor" calls it "good clean fun," but in my mind the only way I'd consider it fun is if there was some role-reversal going on (of course, if I got my hands on a paintball gun I'd shoot that idiot in the story in the balls). Co-ed naked paintball is one thing, hunting women is another.

When I wrote my senior thesis on pornography in college, one of the concepts that came up continually was this notion that porn allows otherwise frustrated men to vent and not actually perpetrate acts of violence against women in the real world. Of course, that theory's gotten mixed reviews, and it's one of the arguments raised in the interview linked above. I'm curious what y'all think about this -- is this "hunting" just a safety valve for guys who might otherwise do it for real?

P.S. -- I'm hoping this is all a hoax. Check out the site and let me know what you think.

Random poll: how many people are going to call me a "humorless feminazi" for not thinking this is all just tons o' fun?

Update: read another viewpoint here.

Buried Treasure

Leanne, John, and I went on our first geocaching adventure Saturday (read all about the hip new trend here). We optimistically set out for Sutro Baths in search of buried treasure, GPS unit in hand. Being newbies, however, we failed to read in the comments on the Geocaching site that someone else sought out this particular treasure on June 28 and didn't find nada (Most likely a problem with trying to hide something in a metropolitan area of 750,000+ people). I did climb some rocks and bluffs looking for the damn thing that I would have otherwise been too vertigo'd to climb, which was cool. Overall, it was fun and is definitely making me flirt with the idea of getting a GPS unit (not something I would have considered before).

Update: super glue will wear off your teeth in under a week. (Don't try this at home.)

You know the economy is changing when someone posts an ad at work for a friend selling their $45,000 1999 Porsche Carrera in order to buy a house (in 1999 you could have afforded both the car AND the house!).

The Infiniti lives!

Some of you know the story of my former car, a 1995 Infiniti G20 that I sold last July to Alex, who most unfortunately was the victim of a horrible shooting in the car (which claimed the life of one of his friends). Since Alex lives (at least, until recently) just a few blocks away from me I've often wondered about what happened to the car; I hadn't seen it parked in the 'hood, and I admittedly had some morbid curiosity about what happens to a car after an experience like that.

Wonder no more -- Alex contacted me today and gave me a link to some photos of my good old G20, which, and I quote, is now "quite well known in the G20 world." I feel like a proud parent, even though I had absolutely NOTHING to do with any of this. Heh. Check it out -- I can't believe this is my old car!

Land o' Ports

A couple of photos from the Portland adventure . . .

Not my fault!

It's strange to read in the newspaper of record that the slip in the market yesterday was Yahoo!'s fault (yes, I'm oversimplifying slightly). Maybe if I hadn't taken a vacation day on Monday and had instead been a busy worker bee contributing to my company's value none of this would have happened. Nah, I blame my co-workers. When you use company email to send out links like this one it's no wonder all hell breaks loose. ;)

Do not use this product while breathing

I grabbed a tube of cheap super glue during lunch because the anti-wind-noise-thingy I added to my car's sunroof is detaching slightly from the super adhesive strip used to attach the thingy to my car. As directed, I used the cap to puncture the tube (I even attempted to not puncture the tube while squeezing, as also suggested), whereupon super glue came gushing out in a deluge of permanent stickiness. I directed the deluge to the ground, and mentally patted myself on the back for not getting it on my clothes (and even avoided stepping in the pile of goo and thereby permanently attaching my Adidas slide sandal to the Yahoo! parking lot). Reveling in my cleverness, I screwed the cap back on, and then bit down on the top to pull off the cover, having forgotten in all of my revelry that when the glue gushed moments before it had (of course) also gotten all over the cap.

The edges of my front teeth are now covered in super glue. Luckily for me, it can't permanently adhere to the inside of your mouth, but in case you were ever wondering if it sticks to teeth, the answer is a resounding yes.

Having had braces for eight years of my life, I'm not too disturbed by this, seeing as I'm sure my orthodontist used some sort of super glueish compound to adhere those suckers to my teeth. But the crap on my front teeth is rough and feels gross and is bugging the hell out of me. I haven’t even looked in a mirror yet to see if it’s visible.

Maybe it’s karma? The guy at the tire store fixed my tire for free today in an attempt to win my charms; maybe the universe was determined to make me pay in some other fashion.

Beaver pride

Calling all mullet-heads! The Portland Beavers offers free admission to anyone with a mullet this weekend. At least, that's what the signboard at the game said this past weekend. Catch the excitement! Beaver action! Woo!

Deception

Back from Portland, which due to its wonderful warm and sunny climes I've had to ask for constant reassurance that it is, in fact, completely gray from October to March. It's extremely tempting to believe that it remains light until 10pm and eighty degrees all year round, and what with the myriad of relatively inexpensive cool houses, cheap(er) vintage clothing stores, neighborhood coffee shops and the biggest and best bookstore on the planet, I'd love to convince myself that it would be a great place to live. Conveniently, to keep the rogue Californians away Portland currently has zero jobs, which along with the crappy-ass winter weather will likely keep me away. Oh well.

To placate myself, I'm happy to announce that I'm moving out of the hood and into a 3rd floor flat overlooking Dolores Park with Deneb in the next two months. Photos to come. For the first time I will finally live in a place in S.F. that's not only cool but is close enough to finally get some visitors. Party at Jen's house!

Anti-fog

Off to Portland for 4th of July madness with the Simon's Rocker crew. I can't think of a single 4th that I've spent in the bay area where I didn't watch fireworks explode into a cloud of fog while braving a fifty-degree breeze. I want to sweat, and with any hope Portland won't let me down.

On every holiday I like to try to recall what I was doing years past; I think my favorite 4th ever was spent in Moscow, in 1990 when the Soviet Union was still in existence (but waning steadily). It was, of course, just any other day to the Soviets, but to an American partying in a communist country the day felt incredibly subversive.

Have a good holiday!