In Contempt of Court

I had to go to Troy NC yesterday for court because of a speeding ticket I got about a month ago. The cop came out of nowhere. Not because he was hidden or cleverly concealed-- but because I was going so friggin fast.

In North Carolina, going over 15 mph is considered a misdemeanor and you have to show up in court. Instead of getting a lawyer, I decided to gamble everything on the judge falling in love with me and dropping all charges (full story: I waited until the last minute and the lawyer wouldn't take my money).

Anyway, Troy is a tiny town off of US-220 and all of its streets are tiny and all of its buildings are tiny. Its courthouse, however, is a hulking monolithic structure that looks like every condemned insane asylum in every TV show ever.

I learned rather quickly that Troy is bloated with criminals because the parking lot was full. Cars were parked along the sides of the road and some one had started the trend of parking on the nearby patches of grass outside the parking lot. So where do you think I parked? If you guessed the graveyard-- then you are correct. Not the graveyard parking lot-- the graveyard. I parked on Mr. Martin.

I sat in the back. In the pew ahead of me, someone had gouged the star of david into the wood with the words "F#%k u blood." To the left of me was another star of david with several little pitchforks around it. I looked around and took in the folk around me. These were not my people.

I suppose court should be a time for reflection but I'm pretty sure that people just sink into a self-righteous funk where the only thought in your head is "at least I'm not as bad as them." Its not a particularly enlightened mindset but it couldn't be helped. All I could do was look around me and think "Well at least it wasn't a DUI" or "at least it isn't my second DUI" or "at least it isn't my second DUI and I'm on meth."

There were a lot of DUIs.

(Also a lot of meth addicts).

Everything dragged on. I wasn't surprised per se because I imagined it would take some time to hear the cases (there were at least 100+ cases). It was the sheer amount of time dedicated to NOT hearing cases that blew my mind. One hour was dedicated to roll call. One hour was just lawyers (as far as I can tell) milling about. Then we had a 15 minute recess which, of course, lasted an hour.

When I was finally called up-- it was in a group. The judge was going to do a lightning round of justice. On my way up to the bar, I fixed my hair and dolled myself up. Here was where the judge would fall madly in love with me. I was the first up. Before I had to face the judge, the DA pulled me aside and told me that they knocked it down to speeding 10 miles over (instead of 20).

Let me just say first off that I am grateful that they let me slide. But when you think about it-- I was speeding (to the best of my knowledge) 85 in a 65. Basically in order to reconcile the situation they have to forge a document that says I was going less than I was. I still did it. The court system just committed fraud in order to get me off the hook. I was tried for an imaginary crime.

I still think I was let off the hook because the judge had a crush on me.

Let me dream.

What were you THINKING?

Angela Merkel announced yesterday that "multiculturalism has... utterly failed" in Germany. As much as multiculturalism might have failed in Germany-- its probably working out a lot better than their attempt at a monocultural society.

If I am honest with myself-- my chief complaint concerning Joe Miller is that he can't grow a beard. He has a weak chin that he tries to cover up with a beard that looks more like a way out of control five-o-clock shadow. It is pitiful. But Joe Miller doesn't want your pity-- he wants you to know he doesn't let the press mess with him. His security detail detained a reporter-- and by detained I mean handcuffed and detained by people who weren't police. Joe Miller really is the conservative choice for senate ... if by conservative you mean power-hungry control freak.

The unemployment crisis has been a major issue. You would think that the students of Columbia would have a leg up in these dire times. Apparently not because a memo was released this week reminding the students to bathe. So the unemployment isn't actually a problem for ivy leaguers-- its more an issue that no one wants to be in the same room with them because they are disgusting and tacky. Crisis solved!

Huffingtonpost.com is running a headline right now that reads "Conservative Ultra-Rich Plot Their Takeover." When have the ultra-rich not been in charge? Who are they taking their power back from? Way to look super naive Huffington Post. If this counts as an expose, then investigative journalism is officially dead.

Jimmy Fallon makes dreams come true

This is pretty freaking funny...

Everyone you love is dead or crazy, Homegirl!

Silent films are crazy. German films are crazy. The fusion of the two together is almost too much.

Almost.

"The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" (Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari) is actually pretty brilliant. Once you embrace the over-the-top and the awesomely dramatic-- you realize it is a pretty amazing film.

It opens, ideally enough, with two men sitting on a park bench shooting the breeze about what else-- ghosts. One man admits that "spirits surround us on every side... they have driven me from hearth and home, from wife and child!" Without missing a beat-- his friend tells him, "That is NOTHING-- listen to THIS!"

There is nothing worse than your friend constantly one-upping you... except maybe being haunted by ghosts.

The camera fades in on Narrator (Francis)'s hometown which is quaint and idyllic aaaaaand a terrifying post-impressionist painting. All the buildings and streets are uneven and geometrically unsettling and everyone is cranky because they are forced to sit in wildly uncomfortable post-impressionistic furniture.

Narrator (Francis) is actually pretty boring. What is awesome is Dr. Caligari and how amazingly sinister he looks. Dr. Caligari rocks every "bad-guy" motif there is. He is like the Penguin, Ebenezer Scrooge, and Voldemort rolled into one. And just in case you weren't quite catching on to how awesomely evil he is-- every time he comes into frame, the creepy music from LOST starts playing.

Look at how evil I am!

Back to narrator (Francis) for a cheerful interlude before everything goes to hell. Narrator (Francis) and his friend encounter Jane. It is awkward. Narrator (Francis) then cheerfully (and rather bluntly) announces "We both love her, but no matter how she chooses, let us remain friends." Awww... "Bros before hos" is alive and well in Germany. You think to yourself for a moment that this could have been an adorable little german sitcom-- a goofy "Three's A Company"... except for the murder.

My world is a geometric hellscape! Living in a post-impressionist painting blows : (

Some citizen is murdered in his little post-impressionist home with (and I quote) a "strange pointed object."

Ummm... do Germans not know what knives are?

Back to the dastardly Dr. Calgari who now has an exhibit at the fair: "Cesare, the Somnambulist!" Apparently, Cesare has been sleeping for his entire life but whatevs 'cos he can also tell the future!

As long as that future involves your death and Cesare murdering you.

(The fortunes are kind of fixed in that way.)

Cesare then tells Narrator (Francis)'s friend his fortune. Narrator friend dies and Narrator (Francis) undergoes a very intense german grief-- throwing himself onto every piece of post-impressionist furniture he has.

In a seemingly irrelevant scene, Jane's father is missing. Where does she look for clues? The fair! Who does she enlist to help her find them? The police? Narrator (Francis)? Nope. She goes straight to the fair and asks a carny. Naturally. (Homegirl is not too bright).

The carny is Dr. Caligari! (Homegirl is going to die)!

The next scene is Jane asleep in her post-impressionist bed and Cesare is coming to kill her with a strange pointed object (a knife). Overcome by her beauty and innocence-- he is unable to kill her and kidnaps her instead. Cue chase scene over post impressionist roofs and through post impressionist fields (because EVERY German movie has a chase/ mob scene).

I kidnapped her because it is true love!

After a hearty chase, Cesare dies of a fall and Jane becomes irrelevant again.

Narrator (Francis) and his band of police men (who follow him for some reason) renew their determination to capture Caligari! (This is after they let Caligari escape... because they are busy looking at a mannequin... Caligari just walks away. Seriously). Narrator (Francis) chases the carny to the insane asylum.

It seems to be a dead end until they find Caligari's black magic books describing in detail the possibility of binding a somnambulist to your will and getting him to do horrid deeds that he would not otherwise do.

They then read his diary, which begins sinisterly enough: "Dear Diary..." It's nice to see that Caligari introduces murder using the same gripping narrative teenage girls do. He ends up admitting that he has bound a somnambulist to his will and made him do horrid deeds that he would not otherwise do.

Enter Caligari.

Surrounded by his peers who now know about his horrid crimes-- Caligari attempts to escape by choking everyone who stands in his way. Now-- I know that he is crazy, but I'm just saying-- if you want to escape from a room-- individual stranglings are probably the worst way to go.

He is sent to a post-impressionist hospital room for the rest of his days.

So now we have learned-- "Things not to do in an insane asylum: act insane."

---

There is a twist at the end of the film that makes the story much more awesome. None of this M. Night Shyamalan nonsense-- it is a genuine twist and you see why this movie is in the pantheon of classic horror movies. This movie is where Tim Burton, Alfred Hitchcock, and Romero got their inspiration.

The entire movie is here (sadly without the artistic title cards) but if you want a quick taste of the style the movie was shot in, Rob Zombie also did a music video that was completely inspired by "Dr. Caligari."

SO, in summation, German silent film is crazy... crazy awesome.

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The best godmother ever....

Despite my documented distrust of infants, I was super excited to go down to see my Goddaughter (Godkid) and her mama (Ani).

Ani was my roomate in high school and pretty much my only link my Armenian heritage.

Any Armenian (or anyone who has ever seen an Armenian) is pretty much in disbelief once they hear that part of my heritage is Armenian. I don't look Armenian at all and truth be told-- I'm not a really good Armenian. The only Armenian word I know is "bread" (lavash?) so between me and my dad-- we can beg for scraps at any Armenian table because the only word *he* knows is "meat."

Luckily Armenians are a benevolent people and always go out of their way to feed me. It is also lucky that Armenian food is freaking good. I can eat my weight in lamb and boereg.

Mmmm....food.

I got distracted.

The Godkid.

Yes.

This is Mia. She likes colors, food, sleeping, and when I flail my limbs in an amusing fashion. I think we could get along.

Mia is only 3 months- so she didn't have much use for "Auntie Jenny." We pretty much just sized each other up during my visit. I like her-- but I think Mia is a little skeptical of me. Unless I am being used as a pillow, Mia really only likes it when I am dancing around and basically act as if I'm drowning on land.

What a sweetheart-head.

This picture was taken too early in the morning for my taste.

Even Mia seems confused that she is awake. She said I made a good pillow, though.

It is sooooooo ordered!

Lord. This entry has been languishing on my computer for days now.

BAM!
California struck down Prop 8 and two landmark battles for gay rights are heading towards the Supreme Court. Awesome.

Prop 8 was deemed unconstitutional and a violation of gay people's rights. In the final ruling, it was decided that "moral disapproval alone is an improper basis on which to deny rights to gay men and lesbians (135)."

For a legal document- there are some pretty powerful and moving statements. My favorite, however, is below (the phrase in italics is my favorite part): "The evidence shows, however, that Proposition 8 played on a fear that exposure to homosexuality would turn children into homosexuals and that parents should dread having children that are not heterosexual. ff 79; PX0099 Video, Its Already Happened (mother's expression of horror upon realizing her daughter now knows she can marry a princess).

Let's be serious for a second. No matter what your views-- I think we are overestimating children's resolve. There isn't a high level of "stick-to-it"-ness involved in children's plans or dreams. If parents are really that distraught over an idea that a child has... probably wait two days for them to change their mind.

Dad: Lisa is gay now?

Mom: [not looking up from her book] She wants to marry a princess.

Dad: A princess?! So she's a monarchist too?!

Mom: [still reading] Don't worry about it Stan.

Dad: Well how does she expect to become a spy once the government discovers she is a tory?

Mom: She doesn't want to be a spy anymore. She wants to be an astronaut.

Dad: An astronaut?!?

Mom: I think it is nice.

Dad: That girl needs some sort of game plan for her future.

Mom: She is six.

Dad: [seemingly resigned to his daughters astronaut/princess fate] Where is Mark?

Mom: He is out in the back playing Rambo

Dad: [looks out the window] When did he become such a merciless killing machine?

Photo tribute to Prop 8 being struck down

"you are making Ellen sad"

Photo Credit: Steve Griffin (via huffingtonpost.com)

Design by Shepard Fairey