Cassandra Nguyen

                 Cassandra Nguyen describes her blog as ‘a collection of random prose and bullshit’. I think that description kind of shows the attitude she has towards her poems. Most of them show certain forcefulness or genuine ‘fuck it attitude which I enjoy, with one of her poems being literally a photo with the words “Caution Fuck It”. Some of my closest friends employ this kind of attitude in their work, so I’m glad to see others following in the proud tradition. Even her twitter notices this, as the emotional style of her tweets tends to be “Angry” and “Depressed” in that order. 

                What’s the work like then? Well, going through her blog, she has a definite affinity for beat writers and poets. Allen Ginsberg, William S. Burroughs (a personal favorite of mine), Jack Kerouac appear with surprising frequency. Non-writers are shown off as well, to give an idea of what her other interests are. David Lynch shows up, which makes sense considering her photos.

                The photos she does tend to be lost in a haze. Part of this is obviously due to what she uses, which tends to be film. Some of the pictures have real warmth to them, and remind me of one of the joys of film, something I’ve yet to see accurately captured by digital. Having an app which pretends to capture the feeling of film isn’t the same, I’m sorry Apple but you failed.    

                Her poems appear either on her blog or, more conveniently, on the LETPEOPLEPOEMS project I’ve been following. Actually, they are pretty heavy. They mess with your head, at least “‘Suffer Baby’ – Friday Night Metal Black” does. If you want to read a ‘metal’ poem, this would more than satisfy that need. Keep in mind the theme of this month for LETPEOPLEPOEMS is ‘caution’. Keep in mind as well her picture is an adorable picture of her in the center of a hex with the number “666” on it, written in internet blood. “Jonestown” a longer length indicates a healthily deranged sense of humor. Either that or a more blunt answer: You don’t fuck with Cassandra Nguyen ever. 

                “Stomach is not invisible” is dark yet again. Here it focuses on death but in a more indifferent way. A boathouse is the solution. Every extremity isn’t doing so hot. When the poem focuses away from the subject, its bleak attitude and hopes to start a punk band, it congratulates the winner of “Top Chef”. The different focuses help lighten the otherwise brooding nature of the poem. 

                Despite being her shortest one, “Bong Life” might be my favorite one. It doesn’t have very many words in it. With so little, it manages to create a certain mood of defiance. As one person stated “this is badass”. I’d have to agree with them. 

                Unicorns seem to be a thing with her as well. In her poem “Re Clinically Depressed Unicorns” she has fun in hell. She meets famous evil people. While in hell, she’s relatively prolific with her poetry output. The unicorn and her become friends. Life becomes good while in the literal embodiment of misery, pain, and suffering. But then, Cassandra is pretty metal. 

                I feel her poetry helps me out when I’m feeling upset or pissed off. Sometimes I’m not very good at articulating this emotion, since I try to be a generally happy sloth. Cassandra’s work is weird, confrontational, depressed and a bit angry. That’s what I like about it. It does it well. I hope she continues to do this, since she appears to have just gotten started. Who knows where she’ll be, though she will not be the 2011 Poet Laureate, I think 2016 Poet Laureate is a goal within her reach.

Imperialist Swine Must Die!

                North Korea is a beautiful, blessed country under the enlightened rule of Kim Jong Il. For years he created a true worker’s paradise. In fact, so great was this paradise that people no longer had to eat, allowing us to use the money on our military. Independent North Korean film festivals in Pyongyang are a must for the dear leader, whose subjects attend the films more than the decadent imperialist swine from South Korea who wallows in their own waste.

                Sadly, I am writing about my concern regarding the recent movie shown to all proud North Koreans. The practice of Juche (self-reliance) has been forever sullied. Ruining the vibrant arts community that exists in North Korea is not the best way of introducing 100 years of Juche reigning supreme over our illustrious country. People deserve better than to be fed the filth from the corrupt capitalist regimes.

                Of course I’m talking about the airing of the movie: “Bend it like Beckham”. Presented on North Korean television, I truly grew offended at what it proposed. Who was this Beckham person, and why would we ever want to bend it like him? What specific abilities did he have that our own soccer champions did not possess? And besides, what country did this take place in? Last time I checked, the “UK” wasn’t one of the five countries North Koreans were told about. Obviously this is part of a Western-inspired plot to provoke unrest within the peaceful kingdom. 

                The amount of absurdity knows no bounds in this travesty of a sham of a movie. Soccer is our best sport; the mere suggestion that there are others winning it is so silly. Whenever we face another team, the other team sees the determination and motivation of our players and stands down, allowing us to score goal after goal. Due to our nuclear weapons, they know how foolish it would be to upset us, knowing we would scale a full-out assault on their homeland with our victorious army.

                Kim Jong-Un must put a stop to these instigators. How they managed to break into the country and gain access to an hour’s worth of television programming is beyond me. I know that North Korea faces many foes from the outside, but I was assured that Kim Jong-Un had eaten most of them. At least that’s what I had been advised by high-ranking party officials upon inquiring about his waistline. 

                What bothers me most is the unsettling feeling that our people might have actually chosen this rubbish as an example of ‘good cinema’. If that is the case, perhaps our glorious leader needs to create “re-education” camps to show them good films. Though I hope our people didn’t choose this, we must have Kim Jong-Un guide the poor sheep to true taste. Perhaps an idea might be to kidnap various directors to produce movies for North Korea, something we’ve done before. That way we could help our wayward brothers and sister realize what is good. Below are some directors who ought to be kidnapped and brought back to North Korea. Most of them share North Korean concerns about the temptations of wealth and fame, so they would be suitable:

1.       Wes Anderson – I know he is free. All of his movies show how dissatisfied his wealthy characters are, and they end the same way: with all of the characters coming together in slow motion to sing the praises of North Korean self-reliance.

2.       David Lynch – David Lynch shows the true colors of American capitalism. Movies like “Eraserhead” show how concerns about wealth lead to the birth of disgusting pig children and how erasers are made. 

3.       Jim Jarmusch – showing the emptiness of life in America and its hostility towards foreigners, I know his movie would make a good fit for North Korean cinema. 

4.       Coen Brothers – Their exploration on practitioners of self-reliance (Juche) make them superb. When I saw how the Big Lebowski lived in accordance to Juche, I nearly cried at the industrious work ethic of “The Dude”.

Those are by no means the only directors. But I feel they would help inspire selflessness amongst all of our citizenry. After our investigation, I hope that we do not discover our citizens have poor taste and that it was simple infiltrators. Let us give praise to our glorious leader!

Movie Review: David Lynch’s “A Goofy Movie” **Warning:Spoilers**

A Goofy Movie Trailer 

David Lynch has no doubt been one of the most influential directors of the modern era, with movies like “Eraserhead” and “Blue Velvet” being one of those movies to see. A great deal of attention has been paid to him and his ideas about the changing American landscape either rural or city-bound. Often he shows the gross underbelly that exists surprising close to our comfortable lives. The gross muck that people have as their life becomes readily apparent as the viewer realizes just how similar they are to that disgusting person on camera.

                “A Goofy Movie” tends to be one of his more overlooked projects. Written around the same time as ‘Lost Highway’ this is another one of his ventures into the often dark world of Americana. Initially he wanted it to be a father/son bonding experience but realized it would be more interesting if he displayed some of the heartache and loss that he saw running rampant, particularly indirectly referencing the events of the Waco Siege in Waco, Texas.

                Since the plot often uses multiple perspectives and the narrator’s motives are dubious, the audience is left to figure out exactly what goes through Goofy’s mind as he watches his comfortable life unravel around him. Due to the limited release and unavailability on DVD (an issue Mr. Lynch has promised will be resolved) there isn’t a huge amount of critical review on this classic snapshot of America during the early part of the Clinton era. Following are spoilers for this movie and I’ve linked the trailer for it. The soundtrack is phenomenal and easily rivals Philip Glass’s “Koyaanisqatsi” work.

                The movie begins with a shot of an idyllic grain field. Apparently this symbolizes the pure good hearted nature of Goofy. However as the camera focuses more intensely on the field, we see a funeral. Goofy sadly looks into the ground as his wife’s coffin is lowered. Listening intensely to the priest as he mentions all the good she did for the community, Goofy uncontrollably sobs. Seeing his young son, he promises to make sure he’ll raise him well. He hopes that even without his mother’s angelic demeanor, Max will still turn out ok. 

                We forward into the present. A sterile office is presented as Goofy’s workplace. Working under a demanding boss, Goofy has clearly aged since his wife’s death which was many years ago. During his lunch break, he checks various online dating sites for potential dates, only to find that most people he messaged had read and deleted those messages. He longs for a wife, someone to help ease his tortured heart. 

                The phone rings on the wall. Startled, he heads towards it. Picking up the phone, he hears his son’s principal explaining what happened to him. To Lynch’s credit, it is never explicitly stated what Max’s crime was, but it is alluded to that he had developed a methamphetamine habit. 

                Worried about his son’s increasingly erratic behavior, he proposes a trip to Idaho to help him detox. Max’s face falls at first as he hears this information. Apparently from photos Goofy looks at before Max’s addiction, Max used to be a close son to him. But over the past several years, Max has become increasingly distant from his father. Part of this is due to Goofy’s lack of willpower and the blind faith he has in the lost sheep that is his son.

                As the trip progresses, Goofy tries to engage him with things that he deems ‘wholesome’. Initially worried about Max’s attempts at hitchhiking and general lack of respect towards his father, Goofy begins to trust his son. Goofy explains how lucky Max has it, mentioning how he was abused physically and emotionally by his father. Those few scenes showing Goofy’s abuse as a child are uncomfortable and disturbing even by Lynch’s standards. For a brief moment, Max seems to understand. Slowly those images of Max dying fried out of his mind on meth in some abandoned building fade away.

                But this proves to be an illusion. Max becomes better able to deal with his father as he changes the course of the trip. Instead of going to places that only Goofy would enjoy, the compromising that Goofy does brings his son back into contact with drugs again. The hardness of the drugs and the relief they provide allow Max to cope with the aggravation of being Goofy’s son. And after Goofy foolishly makes Max the navigator, real trouble begins to ensue, though Goofy does not realize it.

                Chance encounters with his good friend Pete make Goofy more aware of what is going on. Pete explains the danger of the gangs that Max is indebted to, and that Goofy should just let his son go. Goofy find this hard to believe and has a small tantrum in the car. It is only after seeing the altered map heading to one of the largest drug regions of the US that he is convinced his son continued to head down the wrong path.

                Sadly, the confrontation happens too late. As he tries to talk some sense into his son, the son violently tries to force the car into oncoming traffic. Pulling a knife on his own father, Goofy is forced to drive to the California drug den. Upon arrival Max foolishly puts up his own father as collateral since he doesn’t have any actual money. While under the gang’s possession, they perform sadistic electrocution experiments on him. Max starts to laugh as he sees his father being brutally tortured. 

                Goofy begins to fade away. As the last bolts of electricity pump through him, he sees that picture of a golden field of wheat. Slowly his body hits the ground for the last time. Max realizes what he has done but by then it is too late. 

                I was shocked at how powerful a movie this is. The depictions of the various locations where Max gets his fix are startling: the back alley of a 7/11, a Burger King bathroom, a used Car Salesman’s office, etc. Each one of these represents the vast amount of corruption going on in America. Lynch explained that this movie helped him to “purge those demons” from his body and allowed him to focus on more positive endeavors. After seeing it, you will currently understand.

2010 end of year list begins

Just randomly picked this after googling "2010". This sort of embodies Canada's true colors.

As October reaches an end, I wonder what will make my year end list. Writing each one of these reviews, I kind of get the impression that 2009 was some sort of “bumper crop” kind of year. So many great bands came out of the woodwork, and we even got a new, actually good genre. I’m still going through all the stuff I have from the year prior, and am shocked at the quality. Definitely I shall include an “apologies for 2009” section in the top list this year. 

Sure, I think that hype was uneven distributed this year. Best Coast was an alright debut, but nothing ground shaking. Same goes for the weak genre known as “Witch House” which barely registers as different enough to count as a new category. Other bands from this year mostly got hyped more than needed (like Vampire Weekend or WAVVES, neither of which is bad but not like some sort of musical savior). 

2010 wasn’t a complete wash though. I got to finally see one of my favorite bands (Beach House) get the kind of respect that they deserved.  Autechre made up for being sort of irrelevant lately with their surprising “Move of Ten”, which had some of those melody beat workouts I adore. And yeah, LCD Soundsystem came out with another album, which is pretty much a big deal anyway you cut it. Fortunately I got to see them live as well so that was a big bonus. 10 years later people care about Ariel Pink, but that should’ve happened much sooner. His style just kind of allowed for him to be proclaimed the founder of chillwave, etc. No worries though, he’s at least going to continue to get the needed attention.

Even in such a quiet year things do get overlooked. I though Keith Fullerton Whitman’s work was absolutely stunning this year, particularly the “Generator” release, but barely anyone paid attention. Toro Y Moi got passed over too, which I was disappointed about since so many other “chillwavers” got much more thumbs up. The Chris Weisman and Greg Davis collaboration got zero attention, even though it was a deeply weird and original take on ambient music. Women did get noticed, but a bit more underappreciated than I would have liked. Oh well, I guess I’ll take what I can get. 

A few old faces came back from the cold. We got the much missed Gil Scott-Heron, who put in a solid performance. Oval returned as much and perhaps flooded the market with too much product. No one had heard anything from you in about 8 years, so multiple EPs and a double disc might come off a bit strong Mr. Popp. Speaking of too much, Uffie finally released an actual album, complete with all the disappointment that was expected. And No Age came out with an album that showed an evolution towards a maturing phase without fully abandoning all that chaos that made me like them so much in the first place. 

I feel that the music I listened to and liked the most tended to be either very ambient or dance based. Deepchord Present Echospace ruled so much, as did the brand new project VHS Head, which only teased us with an EP last year.  Indignant Senility came out of nowhere with its ultra-depressing Lynch-informed doom. 

Before I write any of these bands down, I’m going to give the year some time to hand over a few last albums (cough, Panda Bear, cough). Plus, I want to give some albums a chance to shine. Arcade Fire grew on me over the album, and I feel there may be one or two albums that I’ve already listened to but perhaps not fully connected to yet. Sometimes I think bands fail to realize that music is in fact seasonal, and that realizing a sunny cheerful album over the winter is usually a terrible idea. We’ll see what other albums come my way over the next few weeks, but I feel as if most of my top list has already been made.