A Venn Diagram of hipster music, sappy romantic comedies, nerd culture, adorable puppies, film trivia, totally not rigged awards shows, random illustritive quotes with a dash of not-quite-there-yet charm.
There’s always been something quasi-romantic about the runaway narrative. Whether you’re 10 years old and that means you create your own world in your backyard, or whether you’re sixteen and it’s the sixties and you’re trading comfort for freedom. The rebellious side, the one that comes out when you make your parents tell you twice to fold the laundry, fuels that itch for freedom. What would things be like if you could leave this stupid world behind? What would it be like to live your life the way you wanted to, no rules, just freedom?
It’s romantic, especially for those of us who were forced to grow up faster than others. But it isn’t possible. Not really.
To truly runaway, you have to give up bathrooms, clean water, mosquito spray. Maybe if you’re seven you can camp out underneath your trampoline for a night and call it good, but that’s not what real running away is. Really running away is eschewing society, with all of its BS and politics.
That’s not what we want it to be though. We want running away to be like the runaway narrative. We want to travel Into the Woods, take a journey, go to New York City. We want to see it in slow motion, our hair flying erratically behind us as we stand up in the bright red two-door convertible. Who’s driving? Who knows. We want to chase freedom, chase boys, chase fireflies, grinning ear to ear as he leans in closer, closer, closer.
But the runaway narrative that shows up in books and movies isn’t real. Real people don’t run away from their lives. They run away from their jobs, their house, their friends, their problems. They move to a different neighborhood or go to college out of state. They stay silent about what’s happening in their lives so that the smile never slips, because if it slips they know.
There’s something romantic about the runaway narrative in art. There’s nothing romantic about the runaway narrative in real life.
Well, it’s that time of the semester yet again when I’m absolutely completely unmotivated to do absolutely anything, so I waste my time reading 10 Hellogiggles articles and clicking on just one more BuzzFeed video (but really though, you try to stop when you’re on a roll).
Luckily, it’s only 11:30 pm and I only got 5 hours of sleep last night and will probably get a similar amount tonight, so I guess you’d say I’m doing pretty good (I hope the sarcasm is tangible).
No but really, luckily this past weekend Vault of Midnight sponsored a very special edition of Midnights at the State Street Theatre (this isn’t the official title or anything but it gets the point across), and they played probably one of my favorite movies of all time, which, if you know me, is a huge statement to make.
They played Scott Pilgrim vs. The World.
*cue disappointed sighs*
Okay I mean what else did you expect from Vault of Midnight, a comic book store? Finding Nemo? For me though, this was my night. I love Scott Pilgrim. L.O.V.E. Like, I was quoting it and annoying everyone around me (sorry Ian).
Though I’d love to spend time telling you about my favorite moments and all the cool things I know from watching the commentaries multiple times, I’d like to focus on something else for this post.
On the way into the theatre, Vault of Midnight had a nice table set up with a few comics displayed, most of them having to do with Scott Pilgrim (duh) but also a couple of Bryan Lee O’Malley’s other comics. What attracted me to the table immediately though wasn’t any of those.
This, my friends, is the full-color hardback edition of Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life, the first of the six part Scott Pilgrim series. While this exact one wasn’t on the table that night or else I would have had to make Ian take me to where I couldn’t try and buy it, they had the rest of the series in hardcover and full-color and they were gorgeous.
But, funny enough, I have no idea really why I want these editions of the graphic novels. I read them a couple of years ago and I mean I enjoyed them, but I haven’t read them since. I say I’d like to reread them one of these days, but they also aren’t exactly on my priority list at the moment. And yet I’d kill for a full set of these graphic novels…for…what reason?
Because they’d look good on my shelf. Does that seem like a reasonable reason? Maybe not for some people. And true, I’m not going out and buying them though they are available and I’m clearly able to, because I do have some semblance of financial responsibility, and food kind of has to come before hardcover graphic novels, no matter how pretty.
But for me, this is a good enough reason, and possibly the primary reason I own as many books as I do: last time I checked a rough estimate was 150-175, a solid number in hardback, and another 10 or so I’d like to purchase in hardback. I can easily explain the need for the 10 or so in hardback: they’re books that I read often and value highly, typically series (Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, etc.), and I want them to last for years to come. It’s just fact that hardbacks last longer than paperbacks, even with the utmost devotion and care.
And through my conversations with various other readers, I surprisingly come across the same sentiments; there seems to be a collector’s mentality associated with readers of books. The reasoning behind it? Don’t ask me. Perhaps its this generations’ reactions to e-readers. Though I tout around my extremely light and convenient Kindle through all my classes, I still have that large collection waiting for me at home. I love my Kindle just as much as I love looking up at my bookshelf above my bed back home and seeing it crammed to the brim and spilling over with all of my favorite books (and the ones I haven’t started yet).
Or maybe the answer is much simpler than that. Maybe it’s just the fact that readers love reading, and owning books is one way to express that love. Whatever it is, sometimes it doesn’t make sense. I know that owning Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life won’t make my life any better than it already is. And I know I’m not going to spend $23.00 + S&H to get it to my dorm in the next week or two. But none of these facts lessen my want for it.
And to be honest, I don’t really mind.
Go visit Vault of Midnight. Do it. This store is awesome. Also don’t forget free comic book day May 2nd.
If you’re like me, you live your life constantly thinking you live in an 80s movie. You walk around waiting for Patrick Swayze to show up swinging his hips, and your best friend is named Duckie because of his shoes.
But most people are not me, and they don’t live like that. So I try and spread my wealth of knowledge about 80s movies, and I am constantly surprised at the number of people that aren’t aware of this particular brand of awesomeness.
I could go on; I could talk about my personal favorite 80s movies, and ones I have yet to seen. But I’d like to set that aside, and talk about what makes 80s movies so great…and yet why they haven’t stayed in the “great movies” cannon.
I mean, a few have. But rather than just great movies, they’re labeled “great 80s movies,” as if we have to put the entire 80s in a box and only pull out the good things. And for some reason, they’re only pulled out when convenient; to make a reference in Pitch Perfect, or to provide framework in Easy A.
I’d like to put forth my own hypothesis, though, about 80s movies. Because yes, they were made for the masses of neon-wearing, Journey-singing teens that were abundantly overflowing and controlling the 80s. But these movies are more than just your average Twilight phase. They aren’t just some love story for the sake of a love story.
Take Pretty in Pink for example. So I might be a little bit biased because that’s my favorite 80s movie ever, but hear me out. The protagonist Andie (played by the still stunning Molly Ringwald) is asked out by Blaine, the kitchen appliance, or rather rich kid from the “right side” of the tracks. As Andie is from the “wrong side” of the tracks, a.k.a. poor side, this creates a huge controversy not only with Blaine’s snobby friends, but with Andie’s best friend Duckie who’s been in love with her since they met.
Okay, yes, the main story is about young love. But it’s not about absolute, true, you’re-the-one love. It’s about negotiating relationships for what they are; relationships that are messy and unpredictable and imperfect. And even more so than that, it provides smart commentary about the very real concerns of socioeconomic inequality. Blaine isn’t snobby, but he comes from friends who are; and yet Andie’s friends act the same way towards Blaine, because he can’t truly understand what it’s like to not have money. This isn’t silly teen angst, this is the kind of thing that happens every day. And like I said, Blaine and Andie don’t pledge to be 2gether5ever, they realize that being together is rough, and that it’s just a high school romance. The honesty that this movie brings to the screen is unlike anything I’ve seen before or have seen since.
In real life, the right guy doesn’t always get the girl, and in real life people break up and get back together. In real life you make friends in detention and you don’t stay friends with them – but you hold a special memory. In real life you do things you wouldn’t normally do – and then face the consequences for those actions. Pretty in Pink, The Breakfast Club, Dirty Dancing. Sound familiar?
What separates John Hughes movies, and more generally teen movies from the 80s, is the truthfulness that’s shown on screen. You can watch and relate, even if you don’t have red hair or you’re not a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, or a criminal. These movies just get what it means to be a teenager without limiting or mocking that experience.
And the sad thing is, that doesn’t happen anymore. Adults dismiss teens as being angsty, hormonal, irrational, unable to make decisions or think critically. So yes, John Hughes movies may be teen movies, and yes, they may be made for teens and with teens in them. But I don’t think that’s a reason to shove them in the 80s movie box with your mom’s green legwarmers. Now more than ever teens need to know that their voices are being heard, and that they’re important.
In case you hadn’t noticed, I love Jimmy Fallon, and during midterms week I may have slightly overdosed on YouTube videos during study breaks…or instead of study breaks. Oops.
But no, I’m not going to talk about Jimmy Fallon yet again, he was merely the mechanism for how I found out about my current topic.
Sasha Fierce. Lemony Snicket. Gorillaz.
What do all three of these things have in common? It’s not music, because Lemony Snicket isn’t a musician, he’s an author. At first glance, it may not be obvious, but when you think about it, they all do have something in common.
They are all alter egos. Think back to when you were a kid, reading A Series of Unfortunate Events (or, if you’re like me, you were probably reading them in the recent rather than distant past). Do you remember how the mystery about who Lemony Snicket actually is intrigued you? Do you remember wondering if this was actually a true story because the narrator was so convincing?
I don’t know what it is about alter egos, but they always seem to fascinate me, especially when they reach a certain level of dedication. When I met “Lemony Snicket,” or rather Daniel Handler, I was fascinated by his willingness to play with this alter ego to entertain all of the kids sitting in front of him on the carpet of the library we were in. And I was thrilled when I walked up to have my book signed by him, only to get witty sarcasm and a note in my book that said “Jeannie! Hi! How are you? Me, too.” Alter egos are simply fascinating to me.
Which is why, when I first saw Miranda Sings playing pictionary on Jimmy Fallon, I became mildly obsessed with her.
The skit is hilarious, but where Jerry Seinfeld and Martin Short were obviously making jokes, Miranda was not. She was withdrawn, and yet I found her the best part of the skit. Instantly I looked her up on YouTube where most of her audience comes from. I scrolled through the videos and though I didn’t automatically realize it, I intuitively knew that this wasn’t a real girl, this was a character and there was a “real” Miranda somewhere.
But I couldn’t find her real YouTube. If you’re familiar with the way YouTube famous people promote themselves, you’ll know that typically the YouTuber will have the “famous” channel, the channel for skits and parodies and music videos, and then will have a separate channel for behind the scenes content as well as personal vlogs for those who are interested. This is meant to separate the two “lives” of the YouTuber in a way that TV and film rarely does – it separates the creator from the creation, pulling the curtain back and showing the audience that yes, these are real people rather than just funny script writers/actors. So as I scrolled through Miranda’s videos, I tried to find a link in the description for the real Miranda channel, the one that isn’t playing to the camera. There was none.
I tried the website, figuring in some small part there had to be a note that said “Miranda Sings is the creation of Miranda Smith, an actress from Atlanta, Georgia” or whatever. There was none. Her entire YouTube channel was completely in character, and her bio was simply her character talking about herself (like she does on YouTube). There wasn’t even a hint for who she was.
This intrigued me further. It’s one thing to have an alter ego, like Sasha Fierce. But there wasn’t a whole lot of mystery; Beyonce was still Beyonce, and she just became Sasha for a short time. Miranda, on the other hand, seemed to do everything in character, purposefully keeping her true identity a secret.
Unfortunately, after about five more minutes of searching, I typed “Miranda Sings” into Google and one of the suggestions read “Miranda Sings real name” and the first result that came back was a video by Colleen Ballinger entitled “Becoming Miranda Sings.”
As you can probably guess, this cracked the code, although I still found her video to be hilarious as she still keeps the character a mystery. Colleen in the beginning claims her and Miranda are “good friends” and once she “becomes” Miranda Sings, she says “Colleen who was in the beginning of this video with me will be in my shows with me,” referring to the Colleen/Miranda comedy tours she takes.
The mystery was solved, and I began watching Colleen’s videos, finding her to be a lot more tolerable than the…um…special Miranda.
And yet, I’m still willing to believe in the mystery behind the ego. I know who she is now, but that doesn’t ruin Miranda’s videos for me. In fact…it makes me like her more.
As I was watching Miranda videos, looking at comments on the Jimmy Fallon video (Miranda’s first big television debut), and thinking about her “acting” with Jerry Seinfeld, I not only gained respect for her as an actress/comedian, but also started thinking more about comedy than I ever had before.
I knew that comedians like Tina Fey and Amy Poehler often talked about the gender inequality in television and media as a whole, but I never stopped to think about women in comedy because I never wanted to be in comedy. But as I thought about it, I realized that the majority of famous stand-up comedians are male, and here I’m talking about stand-up as a genre rather than stand up as a gateway to acting in comedy. When Amanda Seales went on CNN to slam some dude about catcalling, I looked up her YouTube channel and watched her hilarious stand-up. And that’s the only female stand-up comedian I think I’ve ever watched. Ever. Maybe this isn’t telling because I don’t really watch stand-up ever, but when I think about stand-up Bryan Reagan, Louis C.K., and Dane Cook come to mind, rather than Margaret Cho (bless her) or Sarah Silverman.
I know I talk about female equality a lot in my blogs, but it’s only because I’m not only passionate about it but I also see women disproportionately represented in the arts. Like I said, I’ve never wanted to be a comedian, but I have huge respect for them, especially the ladies of SNL (you kill it Leslie Jones), so seeing a young comedian like Colleen makes me so incredibly happy. It’s also interesting that she isn’t doing stand-up (though that could be part of her live show line up), and to me, her character work would shine somewhere like SNL. However, for now, I think she’s happy with YouTube.
Last week I got the immense privilege of going to the Circus Bar on 1st street for an event I had never heard of called The Moth with my English class, and let me tell you it was a bit of a doozy.
But first let me explain what The Moth is, because I had never heard of it until my professor told our class about it a couple of weeks ago. The Moth is a program/segment on NPR which hosts storytellers: people who tell real stories about their lives in an exciting and heartfelt way. To find these storytellers, radio programs all across the country host their own live events, generally called story slams but specifically called The Moth. These events are competitions wherein the winner gets the chance to share their story on NPR. I’m not exactly sure how this happens, if the story is rerecorded at a later date or if they use the recording live from that night, but it gets put on NPR somehow which is pretty cool to me.
There’s also rules that accompany The Moth as well (it’s very structured):
1. Your story must be no longer than 5 minutes. There is a minute grace period, but you need to wrap it up, or else it could affect your score negatively
2. Your story must be true. This is not a fiction reading. This is REAL LIFE (bonus points if you get the reference I just made)
3. Your story must be high-risk. In other words, your story has got to matter in some way shape or form. In the fiction writing world we call this conflict and people eat it up.
4. Your story must follow the theme of the night. The night we went the theme was “adventure.”
The way it worked was you showed up at 6 (because if you didn’t you probably didn’t have a place – it sells out every week here in Ann Arbor), and if you want to share a story you put your name in the hat. The first person’s name gets drawn by the host, and then after that each person who goes up picks the next person to go from the hat. There’s no limit to how many names there are in the hat, but only 10 people go each night, so even if your name is in the hat you may end up just chilling and watching everyone else for the rest of the night.
These were the things I was told. The thing I wasn’t told was how much I would love this event.
Now, I should preface this by saying I’ve never been to the Circus Bar, and thus had no idea what to expect even concerning the space we were in. As soon as we arrived, though, I knew it was going to be a night to remember. The line was crazy long, almost stretching to the end of the block, even in -10 degree weather. Once inside, there were free buckets of popcorn all around, a perk I wasn’t expecting either. The din from conversation was so loud I could barely hear myself think, but it was that good kind of loud when you know everyone is relaxed and having fun. And this was all before the stories started.
The stories were absolutely phenomenal. I first off applaud everyone who went up there and spoke, because I sure as heck couldn’t do that. Maybe after going a few times and writing out and memorizing exactly what I’m going to say and how I’m going to say it, but that’s only a maybe still. It takes guts to go up there and talk about things that happened to you, whether it be when you stole some fish you caught on a fun family trip, or a story about how you thought of your mom as you hung on the side of the cliff, frozen in fear and not wanting to climb any further.
But the real question that was brought up, the one my class was trying to discover, was this question about storytelling. The famous theorist Walter Benjamin argues that storytelling is an art that’s now been lost, replaced by the solitary practice of reading the novel. For the sake of our class, we relied heavily on this second aspect, the idea that the novel is a replacement for storytelling, and how The Moth and the occurrence of other story slams fits into this perspective.
Even though this argument is interesting and compelling in its own right, I’m more interested in the first aspect, this labeling of storytelling as “art.” I had never really thought about storytelling as another form of art until it was brought up reading this piece. But I didn’t challenge it; sure, storytelling is art, right? But then why hadn’t I thought about it before?
To define storytelling as art, we must first define what art is, according to some philosophical law I forgot immediately after I took my Intro to Philosophy final two years ago. And yet, isn’t that the main struggle for artists? What is art, really, in the grand scheme of things? So then how can we in turn include or deny storytelling as art?
I’m sure everyone has their own personal definition of art that, collectively, comes somewhat close to a pure definition, but I’m going to refrain from sharing mine now. And it’s not because I think my definition is so good (or bad) that I don’t want to share it, but because I’m still trying to form my definition. It’s constantly shifting and changing, and I’m always getting new perspectives from students and professors who all have brilliant things to say about art.
Right now, I will say that storytelling does fit into my shape-shifter definition of art. Will it stay? Who knows.
If you wanna check out The Moth, it is seriously awesome and I highly recommend it. Get your tickets early; it sells out every week.
Okay, so this isn’t really a “part 2” of why I feel like Jimmy Fallon Revolutionized Late Night Television, but it is a part 2 on Jimmy Fallon, because, well…Jimmy Fallon. I didn’t have room for this in my last post, but I really really wanted to include it, so here it goes.
Also, according to Today, the 17th was Jimmy Fallon’s one year anniversary since taking over The Tonight Show, and I didn’t find out until about an hour ago. I must be psychic or something. Anyways, you read the article and see if it lines up with what I said in my last post about Jimmy Fallon.
So, in honor of Jimmy’s one year anniversary, I present to you Why I Think Jimmy Fallon Revolutionized Late Night Television Part 2: The Top 5 Jimmy Fallon Videos You Need To Watch Right Now (In No Particular Order).
5.
Most people would disagree with my choice for this “category,” so to speak, but I find the Ew featuring Taylor Swift to be so on point that it’s a must see. The will.i.am song is funny, but doesn’t give you much info on the background or the show itself. Honestly, I can’t even describe Ew because it’s just so insane. Just watch it. Close second is the Ew featuring Michelle Obama (as herself, not a character) and Will Farrell
4.
So I really couldn’t decide which #Hashtags video to go with, because they’re all so hilarious, and so inviting of the viewership at home, so I ended up choosing one that, ah, really speaks to me as a college student, if you catch my drift. But seriously, watch all the #hashtags…preferably when you aren’t procrastinating studying for an exam.
3.
While all the lip sync battles are fantastic and you should go watch them right now if you haven’t already, this one takes the cake. Will Ferrell, Kevin Hart, and Jimmy Fallon all compete for the “Superbowl of Lip Sync,” and it is absolutely hilarious. You decide who wins. (My pick? Jimmy, duh.)
2.
I had a really hard time choosing a video to put in the “guest”/variety category. Jimmy just does so many amazing things with his guests, from playing charades to doing skits about dancing on jumbotrons, but I gotta say, this one is as good as any. You put Tom Hanks and Full House and Slam Poetry all in one sentence, and you get magic.
1.
So, I chose this as my last Jimmy Fallon Video You Need To Watch Right Now mostly because of personal reasons. I don’t know why this video works so well, but it just does. Jimmy Fallon and Justin Timberlake are just perfect together for some strange reason. If I had never seen anything about Jimmy Fallon and you told me that they were good friends and do skits all the time, I’d probably never believe you because they are two of the last people I’d ever expect to be friends. But they are, and I feel like this video is just one of the many that they’ve made that shows not only that friendship but also their talent for perfect comedic timing.
Bonus:
Since this isn’t technically a Jimmy Fallon video I didn’t include it on my list, but it’s still a fantastic watch, even if only for Fallon’s on point Jim Parsons impersonation (which, I would expect nothing less, since that’s how he became popular on SNL in the first place) and Justin Timberlake’s appearance as Jimmy Fallon himself. While I’m pretty opinionated when it comes to SNL (it’s a fantastic show but poor writing has made it almost unbearable to watch the past few years), I have to say this sketch was not only well written, but also had a fantastic execution which honestly proves how much better live entertainment can be.
And there you have it. Go take a (short) study break and watch some Jimmy Fallon. You deserve it.
