Also, I was amused by one of Chauncey's comments on one of the papers. I am often reluctant to be critical of the work we read, especially in his class, in which I feel that my grasp on the material is tenuous. So in regards to one article, I posed a couple of questions that the author didn't ask, writing, "In light of Baptist's compelling arguments... these questions seem worth pursuing." And Chauncey's note says, "OR -- does this undermine his entire theory?"

Yeah, I wasn't gonna go there. Also: Maybe my grasp on the material is less tenuous than I think it is.

Perhaps I've discussed this before, but let me reiterate: NAPS ARE SO IMPORTANT.

I'm not generally a fan of naps because they compromise my sleep schedule (such as it is). But sometimes, that 60-minute power nap changes the game up. True story: I didn't sleep much last night, because that's the way it goes sometimes. This afternoon, I got two papers back from George Chauncey, skimmed the comments, saw negativity, and almost quit graduate school. This was at approximately 4:00. I then laid down for a few minutes. At 4:15, after I awoke, I looked again at the comments. Turns out, I did fine. But pre-nap, my perspective was so off that all I could see was, "YOU SUCK." Which really was, "YOU ARE EXHAUSTED." But it took a nap to make that clear. And now I can stay in my PhD program. As I say, sometimes NAPS ARE SO IMPORTANT.

I am concerned about od'ing on Simon and Garfunkel. I have gone way beyond the recommended daily listening for "The Boxer" today. Gorgeous verse on Central Park, though. Can't let it go:
"After changes upon changes, we are more or less the same -
After changes, we are more or less, the same."

That Paul Simon. Man.

How I am a "film scholar," I don't know. Because I have conversations like this, with my non-film-studying American Studies cohort member Yusong:

Y: Some of us were thinking about going to see a movie next week at the Criterion. So if you want to come?...
Me: Oh, cool! What do you guys want to see?
Y: Maybe The Class [the French film nominated for an Oscar this year for Best Foreign Language film]?
Me: Oh, man. I was really hoping you were going to say Duplicity or I Love You, Man. Oh, okay. The Class. Okay, maybe.

This is the first installment of a new blog feature, "Nonsense: Direct Quotes from Academia." Today, I quote from Anna Everett's book Returning the Gaze: A Genealogy of Black Film Criticism, 1909-1949. She writes:

"What frustrated Tolson most about Gone with the Wind was the film's ability to trade on the nation's racial imaginary and thus to circulate and indeed to be accepted as a mimetic equivalent to its historical referent." (291)

That is, Tolson didn't like that people believed that Gone with the Wind was actual history. Why did Everett feel the need to invoke theorist Theodor Adorno (mimesis), when it's obfuscating and unnecessary? Because, here as in the rest of the book, she doesn't really have anything to say.

This has been the first installment of a new blog feature, "Nonsense: Direct Quotes from Academia."

I should probably update you folks as spring break comes to a close, since I did do some exciting things. Mostly, I went to San Francisco and Oakland, to hang out with Ashley (friend from college). During the week, I:
(1) Played Ashley's Wii and managed to not embarrass myself through several songs on Rock Band. I'm a natural drummer, didn't you know? I have been waiting for years to play a Wii, but I was never good enough friends with anyone who had one, so this was a very special thing for me.

(2) Went to the Muir Woods, which is where there are some very large Redwoods. See?:

Me with tree.

Ashley with tree.

(3) Ate a lot of different foods, including excellent sushi (twice!), and, with Becky R. (formerly of Palo Alto, now of San Francisco), Nicauraguan (for the first time!). I have no pictures of these meals; you will have to trust that they happened.

(4) Got sick, because Ashley has two cats, and I'm allergic to cats. And even though I didn't stay at her house to that I wouldn't get sick, my allergies still hate me. And/or cat dander.

(5) Saw two films at the Castro Theatere, and old-fashioned one-screen movie palace that now runs films in repertory -- that is, they show old movies and new movies and host film festivals and things. It is in the original gayborhood, the Castro, which you may remember from Milk, if you hadn't before heard of it. This is the Castro theater:

This is Ashley's favorite movie theater, which is why we went once (and saw Diamond Head, 1963, w/ Charlton Heston, great 60s epic soap-style drama). Also, because I like movies, too. I went by myself the second time because I have to write an ethnographic paper on a film theater for one of my classes. (On St. Patrick's Day, saw the very silly Darby O'Gill and the Little People, 1959, Disney live-action feature with a very young Sean Connery.) I took the above picture to include in the paper, which is the paper I am decidedly not writing right now, even though it's due in four days. Four days over which I also have to read two whole books. Because I didn't read them while I was in San Francisco, because of course I wasn't ever going to and why I even made that plan is still a mystery to me.

Off to read Gay New York for G. Chaunc on Monday. I'm reading carefully because it was also, by the way, written by G. Chaunc.

I live next door to a club in New Haven called Toad's, and tonight the Game is performing. And this would be a good night to rob somebody, because every cop car in the city is on my block. Also, I'm glad. Because there is a direct correlation between (a) places where the Game is, and (b) places where people get shot.

I was hoping I'd still be out of town when he (and his crew, obviously) came. As it is, I'm not leaving my dorm room.

A short narrative of a great four hours:
I had an uncommon amount of work this week, and as a result, I had to push back my reading for my 3:30pm class until this morning, when I woke up and immediately began read the most boring book ever written about the movies, Returning the Gaze. It's about black film criticism, which is not an inherently dull topic. And yet, hand an academic a subject and she'll wring every last drop of interesting out of it. So I hadn't even gotten out of bed by lunchtime, when I got up and checked my email. And what was within? A note from my sick professor, who canceled class! YES!

Not only do I not have to read that ol' dumb book (right now), I also get to go and see Broadway Legend Patti LuPone, who is visiting one of the colleges this afternoon! I'm kind of afraid, actually.
So much goes on around here, even huge names will sometimes pull in only a small crowd. And I'm afraid that only a few people will show up, which will just put me too close to Patti LuPone. I mean, this woman is fab, but she is a Diva, for real. It's cool to be close, but... not too close.

Nevertheless. This is the best day ever.

I feel like I just created terrible karma for myself. What I really mean is, bless the Smithsonian, bless the Museum of the Moving Image, and bless the Paley Center for Media. But still, they better recognize.

All the stupid, stupid internship applications are done and submitted. I cannot believe how much time I had to invest in a process in which I asked others to allow them to take advantage of my mad skillz for 40 hours a week for ten weeks, for free. Stupid Smithsonian, stupid Museum of the Moving Image, stupid Paley Center for Media. You better recognize.