Kurt Cobain. Widely known as the king of the grunge era of our time. The lead singer of Nirvana and his member’s skyrocketed to into fame in their burnt out flannels and their “Up Yours” attitude. Awarded several Grammy’s and other winnings, Nirvana quickly became familiar to the media. Twenty years have passed since Cobain has taken his last bow. Yet Cobain’s one of a kind vocals still strike the right string within the viewer’s tiny heart shaped box. Along with the 20th anniversary of Cobain’s death came along HBO’s release of the film The Montage of Heck’s Documentary. Director Morgen’s documentary treads a different water in the world of film. Frame by frame, Cobain’s life is revealed like never before through different threads of mass media. Montage being one of them. Each montage offers a kaleidoscope view of Kurt’s life using; quirky animation, never before heard cassette recordings, interviews, and old home videos. Cobain’s handwritten diary entries, doodles, and notes quite literally crawl across the screen. The Montage of Heck Documentary executes a story any audience member can appreciate. From the impeccable soundtrack to the crawling graphics, it’s no question that this film reeks of originality. Morgen truly takes the hand of the audience member through the 27 year journey of Cobain’s life with ease. Grey hair or no hair, this film will surely give the audience member a better understanding of the character, Kurt Cobain. After soaking up the two plus hours of The Montage of Heck, it’s guaranteed you’ll be walking away with more knowledge of the existence of Cobain than you have from your high school Spanish class. After watching this film, you may find yourself and the ten dollars you have in your couch cushions standing in line to purchase Nirvana’s unplugged on MTV. I can guarantee you’ll be more than ten dollars richer after this noble purchase.
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- Phil Collins (Specifically the Tarzan soundtrack)
- Holding a warm cup of tea close to your heart in your pj's - Drum solo's - Hillbilly laughter I hear occasionally in my backyard (slightly scary since it's location is unknown) - Simon and Garfunkel - Playing frisbee with my father - Witnessing my 53 year old father catch it behind his back like a pro - Camp fires So to begin, one must know the nine years I've played softball I've been scared shitless of the ball. Playing games barefoot in my neighbor's back yard, to then progressing High School softball, or what I like to call bitch-ball I mastered how to still have fear. So after three years not playing the game (quiting because the girls were heartless souls), this summer I decided softball would be a nice idea to get back into some type of shape. Maybe even enjoy the sport for what it truly is. The team I was invited to play on was co-ed and kinda lame. More lame than those shoes your grandma bought you when you were 15.
Anywho, last Sunday I played first base since I'm the only long armed/legged girl on the team. The team we were playing against were late twenty year old legends. Scoring run after run, I decided to have my own fun and start some small talk with the people who made it to first base. I made a few friends, one with a hamstring problem and the other was a woman who was barely five feet tall. Their red jerseys reminded me of the red pac man ghosts who were dominator of their ghost friends. For sucking at fielding, my strong suit would be smashing the ball into center. Which brings me to the most important part of this blurb of words. So there I was. Standing on second, out of shape and out of breath I watch a fly ball get caught over my head and stay put. Not to notice my team member on first coming at me to steal the base, so my ass needs to start fucking moving I had thought. My legs start plowing to third as I see the pixie stick looking dude eye me and throw to third. At this point, I've been saying various cuss words as I'm trying to move my ass to third base. I slide into third base, creating this sandy thunderstorm of pride. The ump called the play as safe, which made the slide worth the damage. Getting scraped up for some freakish reason makes me feel like a better athlete so the roughed up shin I have now is only the proof I've missed the sport itself. So the moral of this story is diving in dusted gravel has induced a wicked nostalgic enjoyment I have for the game of softball. My scraped shin is probably the coolest thing about me as of right now. And then God said, "Let today day begin with a head nod, and end with a sore neck." Maybe he didn't say anything of that matter, but I sure did. Today here at San Jose's front desk is starring Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. Jack Johnson next on the playlist of my emotions.
Like the diversity at San Jose, I like to add some spunk to my music line up. Here's a few of my favorites: Starting things off with with a bit of a "cool Dad" shabang. Otherwise known as
Because nothing says cool like a French rap from the 90's:
In the time and age we live in, so much energy is put forth to please others. Through our living social media world, it's easy to lose track of who's important here. The person I am speaking of here would be otherwise known as you. Tu, vous, for lack of better words; you. It's time to stop shining your spot light on that instagramed grilled cheese sandwich of yours and take some pride for who you are. Everyone has a strong suit, may that be humor, creative doodles, or tap dancing in your grandma's shoes.
It's easy to be downgraded in a society when we are so commonly hushed in a world of today. So, now would be the time to eat your grilled cheese and appreciate your awesome qualities as a human being. May that be through sharing your usually sheltered writing entries with a new friend, or joining a painting class to let your charisma shine among the people you meet. Granted there's a time and place for everything, and that weird joke about your Dad's pube doesn't quite belong in the open air to gain new friends. Being in Chicago two days a week has allowed me to see how isolated and judgmental viewers can be. This is when that imaginary teenage sidekick who sits on your left shoulder says "suck it" to those rude snobs. By you thinking everyone is against you, or boring as a stale oatmeal oat, you have become a product of your own thought. Sociology class has taught me how refreshing it is to break a few social norms. If you google just a few (very easy to find) and try a few in public, you'll see how easy it is to break the barrier of boring. For the sake of intelligence, the clothes and shampoo has little to do with what your brain can do. What we can do with our thoughts, ideas, and Epiphanies is what can shape society as a whole. Own whatever it is that lights your fire of interest. Don't think you have any? Pfft. Try exploring the crap outta an area you think you do enjoy. Taking a ceramics class or joining a Frisbee team may bring you closer to what was already there from the get-go. Knowing your strengths is half the game. May that be creativity or mathematics and run with it. Do something fun you want to try and have a kick ass time doing it. If you're being yourself, that's the best suit to wear among the crowd of society. Have this backbone of truth, a realness. All to easily, us humans tend to judge the living shit out of one another before actually getting to know the person. With that being said, it's important you speak with kindness and rock out to what you enjoy. Quit being afraid of viewers, and just be the person you already are with good listening ears. Asking a random person to play Frisbee isn't going to kill you. And odds are you may make a friend who may be nothing like you, but that's the beauty of meeting new people and being a kick ass individual. Own it. Peer pressure comes in various shapes and forms. Luckily, my amigos are healthily urging me to purchase a ukulele. Not the worst peer pressure. But certainly the most time consuming. If you're like me and are sick of playing a broken mac-arena while your friends are playing the guitar, I advise you to keep reading.
Jam sessions are a blast for friends to have the chance to connect on a different plateau of conversation. Jam's can consume hours of your Sunday in your friends shed or garage and lord help you if someone forgot deodorant. Where my friends jam out to music is no garage; better yet it's a shak. Here two coffee tables are swooned by two uniquely comfy couches and numerous wall artwork that consumes the atmosphere. String lights, lamps, and album artwork drip all over the place creating a calming ambiance. So while my friends are jamming their brains out and dripping guitar playing sweat, I made a quick list of why my next purchase is going to be a ukulele. 1. It's cool. Who doesn't love a portable anything? The ukulele can be better than a radio when on a long drive (in the passenger seat of course). With four strings, I've been reassured by my sweaty guitar playing friends it will be much easier than the guitar itself. 2. Portable as heck. Like I said, passenger seat jams. Bring it to the beach, friends campfire, or even in an elevator. 3. Free lessons. My amigo who lives a stone's throw away offered to teach me the reigns of the instrument. 4. I can contribute to the conversation of chords. Another language for me to tap into would be ideal. Not to mention, the great world I could finally be able to understand and be apart of. 5. Something new I can learn and grow from. Like any good thing in this world, a lesson is always there. You just have to be intelligent enough to tap into this yearning to know more and grow from the actions that have been taken. Sold. For now, I'm saving up my money. But as soon as I have $100 to spend, you bet your white hairy ass I'm buying a Luna from Guitar Center. My soon to be callused fingers will be crying tears of joy. http://ukulelehunt.com/2009/06/10/10-things-i-wish-id-known-about-ukuleles-before-i-bought-one/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gRHD8ohQjy0 Like any normal shmuck, I enjoy a good laugh. And if there's anything I've learned under the roof I grew up in, it's vital to laugh even if you're alone eating cheese puffs. Or in my case, alone sitting on a train full of strangers. So from one shmuck to another, I hope you enjoy the beauty of a good laugh and the pretend abs you think you're getting.
En route to Chicago's San Jose Group has me stumbling across a few things that make me chuckle while sitting alone in my train seat. Here's a few of them: 1. A young pre-teen chubby girl wearing a yellow m&m shirt strutting her stuff across the aisle. 2. Lady on train in front of me talking about a man named "Julio". - Julio doesn't sound like he should be trusted with effective responsibility. The name doesn't strike a right tone with me, that's for sure. Arriving at San Jose's office to see their dazzling octagon shaped desk. Sitting behind this desk require a queen bee hat placed on top of the noggin. My first impression of the office was the boss likes his classy glass ware. My second thought was who in the world is going to clean all this glass. A few things I do while sitting at this dazzling octagon shaped desk: 1. Listen to the roaring computer 2. Think about learning how to play the ukulele 3. All the office supplies as monsters with flesh piercing teeth. Quite similar to vampires. 4. Eat a square bagel with scrumptious cinnamon cream cheese 5. Having to spit out my half chewed square bagel to answer San Jose's phone If 18 were a sweater it would most certainly be unwashed and smell of slight bonfire along with a hint odor of my friend's reefer addiction. A few dog hairs would be elegantly woven in the seems along with the comfort of mom's sewing. This sweater would be used for all of Chicago's 30 seconds of Summer, and throughout the seasons of fall, winter, and spring.
If you're normal, you're probably asking why is this girl comparing an age to a sweater? Yikes...Don't let her baby sit even a pencil. Well before you get all weirded out and go back on your (slightly) losery social media, know metaphors are (pardon my french) my effin' jam. There's just something about comparing breathless objects and infusing their non living bodies with something comparable. Understanding new ideas and concepts is where metaphors and good descriptions come into play for me. So to put those words into retrospect, I like metaphors who ooze unique description to better the foundation of what previously "was". My spin on writing comes through living with three older sisters (20, 22, 24) and truly one of a kind parents. Our family of six lived next to a pizza place on Baltimore Ave. in Hegewisch, IL. Being the youngest of four girls has given me what I like to call "humor". Half the time I'm really the only one laughing at my jokes, so feel free to come join in the seat next to me. All I have to do is brush off the dust, and popcorn crumbs. To Do List
- Go whale watching - See the sunset in good company - Practice better handwriting - Observe the environment more - Keep reading Jiddu Krishnamurti's work - Become a better whistler - Own it - Trust my gut - Lose my gut (the fat part) - Brush my teeth more - Hug my mom, sisters, and dad more - Take mom to a circus |
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