Mischief Managed!*
Mar. 14th, 2011 09:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kitewithfishGreek final- killed it with FIRE
IN OTHER NEWS:
-I am 2/3rd through finals. Yay!
-I have not trimmed my hair in about 2.5 weeks now. My head feels like one of those furry-rubber Koosh balls from my bizarre childhood. Press lightly, and it pushes back; press hard and it goes flat only to spring up again at the passing of the storm.
-I am watching this video from a visit to North Korea which is weirdly severe in character except for the hairdresser, who appears to be adorable. (As many hairdressers are.) The women's formal gowns are lovely.
-I've been re-watching Weeds recently. I'm not fannish about it, primarily because I don't think it's meant to be fannish- I can't imaging loving any of the characters.
The show seems to go to an effort to distance us from them visually and emotionally by stepping back and doing a music-backed montage of all the characters' lives at least once in the show- something about that strikes me as really highlighting the fictionality of the show and pushing us away from the characters. There's also the fact that many of the characters are farcically vile- the pot-smoking CPA on the town counsel would would disown his son if he found out he was gay, the drug-dealing suburban widow who seems more concerned sometimes with trying to control a situation she very stupidly got into rather than getting a real job and a real life outside the classy suburb she lives in.
There's a real sense of complete chaos and catastrophe boiling up under a smooth suburban surface, where the main character has to worry about being caught by a DEA agent and making sure her older son doesn't commit upper-middle-class suicide by dropping out of high school to follow his girlfriend to Princeton. It's a very weird juxtaposition of a heightened fiction of a life, being portrayed in a heightened fictional media.
IN OTHER NEWS:
-I am 2/3rd through finals. Yay!
-I have not trimmed my hair in about 2.5 weeks now. My head feels like one of those furry-rubber Koosh balls from my bizarre childhood. Press lightly, and it pushes back; press hard and it goes flat only to spring up again at the passing of the storm.
-I am watching this video from a visit to North Korea which is weirdly severe in character except for the hairdresser, who appears to be adorable. (As many hairdressers are.) The women's formal gowns are lovely.
-I've been re-watching Weeds recently. I'm not fannish about it, primarily because I don't think it's meant to be fannish- I can't imaging loving any of the characters.
The show seems to go to an effort to distance us from them visually and emotionally by stepping back and doing a music-backed montage of all the characters' lives at least once in the show- something about that strikes me as really highlighting the fictionality of the show and pushing us away from the characters. There's also the fact that many of the characters are farcically vile- the pot-smoking CPA on the town counsel would would disown his son if he found out he was gay, the drug-dealing suburban widow who seems more concerned sometimes with trying to control a situation she very stupidly got into rather than getting a real job and a real life outside the classy suburb she lives in.
There's a real sense of complete chaos and catastrophe boiling up under a smooth suburban surface, where the main character has to worry about being caught by a DEA agent and making sure her older son doesn't commit upper-middle-class suicide by dropping out of high school to follow his girlfriend to Princeton. It's a very weird juxtaposition of a heightened fiction of a life, being portrayed in a heightened fictional media.
