The Interpreter

The awkwardness of the white African seem to be a recent theme in films. Country of My Skull (renamed something like In My Country), Stander (which may not have ever officially opened in the US), and now The Interpreter.

I've been intrigued with the topic ever since the campus African Students Union changed their name to something explicitly "Black" to keep out those pesky pasty Kenyans and (then expatriot) South Africans. That such a "reverse" racist stunt is "OK" is precisely why the UN would avoid hiring someone who looks like Nicole Kidman as their main African translator, especially if they could get anything on her with a thorough background check.

Then again, I had a "special" college experience. A terrified administration wasted half the senior party budget on bringing Jesse Jackson in for a just-reinstated Bacchalaureate service, which was broadcast by CNN, and not just because the some 40% NY Jew student body's extended families just *had* to see it.

Even a senior trip to Great Adventure(?) was deemed a race issue, and not a "why does this conflict with the traditional booze cruise we've been hearing about since freshman orientation, whether we even like to drink or not?" issue. I was reminded of this while reading the Metro Op/Ed this week (look, sometimes I finish the crossword before I've reached park street and accidentally read the rest of it, ok?), when someone observed a busload of "privileged white kids" heading towards Six Flags and felt this was "nuff said".

Our senior memento was a go-cup that said "P.C.*" in big letters and "*plastic cup" in small print.

Your experience does not need to be so special, to enjoy the suspense and shades of gray in The Interpreter. Although... terrorism, even faux terrorism, with the current Manhattan skyline in the background, is, um, something.

I was also watching the panoramic shots for glimpses of the high line, which is probably nowhere near the UN. Thanks prog.

If you were in 8th grade anywhere arguably nearby, the shots of the UN, and specifically, tour groups, will remind you of the days of yore. You know, that time you made an ass of yourself shouting out Zambia because you'd not yet heard of Zimbabwe. Ah... Good times.

yes, I was born this dorky.

The Interpreter

The awkwardness of the white African seem to be a recent theme in films. Country of My Skull (renamed something like In My Country), Stander (which may not have ever officially opened in the US), and now The Interpreter.

I've been intrigued with the topic ever since the campus African Students Union changed their name to something explicitly "Black" to keep out those pesky pasty Kenyans and (then expatriot) South Africans. That such a "reverse" racist stunt is "OK" is precisely why the UN would avoid hiring someone who looks like Nicole Kidman as their main African translator, especially if they could get anything on her with a thorough background check.

Then again, I had a "special" college experience. A terrified administration wasted half the senior party budget on bringing Jesse Jackson in for a just-reinstated Bacchalaureate service, which was broadcast by CNN, and not just because the some 40% NY Jew student body's extended families just *had* to see it.

Even a senior trip to Great Adventure(?) was deemed a race issue, and not a "why does this conflict with the traditional booze cruise we've been hearing about since freshman orientation, whether we even like to drink or not?" issue. I was reminded of this while reading the Metro Op/Ed this week (look, sometimes I finish the crossword before I've reached park street and accidentally read the rest of it, ok?), when someone observed a busload of "privileged white kids" heading towards Six Flags and felt this was "nuff said".

Our senior memento was a go-cup that said "P.C.*" in big letters and "*plastic cup" in small print.

Your experience does not need to be so special, to enjoy the suspense and shades of gray in The Interpreter. Although... terrorism, even faux terrorism, with the current Manhattan skyline in the background, is, um, something.

I was also watching the panoramic shots for glimpses of the high line, which is probably nowhere near the UN. Thanks prog.

If you were in 8th grade anywhere arguably nearby, the shots of the UN, and specifically, tour groups, will remind you of the days of yore. You know, that time you made an ass of yourself shouting out Zambia because you'd not yet heard of Zimbabwe. Ah... Good times.

yes, I was born this dorky.

SOS

http://www.somervilleopenstudios.org/

I am in theory bringing around alumni pals, maybe even a sister. We'll see.
My Nice Toy does not text message cheaply. Just call me if you see something That Good.

I was going to write up a post of the cool stuff based on the Somerville Museum exhibit (a good starting point if you haven't been there yet), but, the map I have with me is not the one I marked up there, but one of several sent to me by exhibiting artists.

From memory:
guaranteed good schtuff:
15. Nicholas Shaplyko, aka, the crazy russian who "frescoed" the old masonic temple on college ave.
23. Richard Chase. (more for the decor than the photos, some years)
64. Daniel Maher.
65. Hilary Scott.

obligatory (for me):
19, 73, 74. lj friends
48. non-blog friend. (and technically, 70, but I hate the layout of 70.)
36 (former cow orker?)
78. The Pope's landlady

stuff I usually like:
60. Martha Friend. (she inherited all my dead roses, and they may be in the art)
35. Ilona Fried. Buy me jewelry! :)
80. widmer school. the building is fun.

ones that I suspect I'll like:
53. 75. 95.

I don't go to Vernon street now that they conflict. If I have to choose between studios and residences, the latter offers tastier voyeurism. There's just too much else to see, even when I devote 12 solid hours to seeing SOS, which I probably can't this year.

If 12 hours isn't enough, Miller St is tonight, with live music. I recommend it highly. (I'm already booked, for Chanticleer.)

SOS

http://www.somervilleopenstudios.org/

I am in theory bringing around alumni pals, maybe even a sister. We'll see.
My Nice Toy does not text message cheaply. Just call me if you see something That Good.

I was going to write up a post of the cool stuff based on the Somerville Museum exhibit (a good starting point if you haven't been there yet), but, the map I have with me is not the one I marked up there, but one of several sent to me by exhibiting artists.

From memory:
guaranteed good schtuff:
15. Nicholas Shaplyko, aka, the crazy russian who "frescoed" the old masonic temple on college ave.
23. Richard Chase. (more for the decor than the photos, some years)
64. Daniel Maher.
65. Hilary Scott.

obligatory (for me):
19, 73, 74. lj friends
48. non-blog friend. (and technically, 70, but I hate the layout of 70.)
36 (former cow orker?)
78. The Pope's landlady

stuff I usually like:
60. Martha Friend. (she inherited all my dead roses, and they may be in the art)
35. Ilona Fried. Buy me jewelry! :)
80. widmer school. the building is fun.

ones that I suspect I'll like:
53. 75. 95.

I don't go to Vernon street now that they conflict. If I have to choose between studios and residences, the latter offers tastier voyeurism. There's just too much else to see, even when I devote 12 solid hours to seeing SOS, which I probably can't this year.

If 12 hours isn't enough, Miller St is tonight, with live music. I recommend it highly. (I'm already booked, for Chanticleer.)