I am finally watching this French series on Netflix, in which the dead start coming back to life with no awareness of their death. Not as zombies or ghosts, just — suddenly There again. I like it for a myriad of reasons: its look, its twists, its peoples, but mostly that it’s about something MIRACULOUS. There’s something really beautiful about seeing people have their dead loved ones in their lives again, but it’s also this painful exploration of how complicated that would be. So far, there’s no real mention of where the people have been for the last some odd years, whether or not they’ve gone to heaven or some sort of afterlife. It’s more about the immediate and human reactions to the miracle, and the unravelling of mysteries. It’s deeply human and shocking but also subtly twisty-turny. Point being: If you aren’t watching it, I GENUINELY DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE DOING WITH YOUR LIFE BUT IT’S PROBABLY THINGS THAT AREN’T WATCHING TELEVISION AND SO WELL GOOD FOR YOU.
This show, vs:
quality time with other humans
THIS SHOW ALWAYS WINS. I love this show. I love the dramedy. I love the specifics and the horror. I can’t wait for all of the subsequent costumes this halloween and for when women start paying to go to jail, for fun. Lastly So proud of / jealous of all my friends writing for it and bein in it.
I’d like to issue a formal apology for the sadsack nature of my blog as of late, but I’m basically just a ball of snot and feelings these days. As soon as I can breathe through my nose I’ll go stick my face in a puppy or go on a hike and tell you all about that. For now:
I don’t know if you’re watching HBO’s Enlightened, but I’ve watched it on and off since its beginnings. It’s one of those shows that miraculously is still on TV, because each episode is like a little one act play where oftentimes, not much happens and it dares to have a protagonist that’s oftentimes punch her in the face grating. My favorite and least favorite part is always the voiceover, depending on the episode. Most recently, this character Tyler, pictured above, a simple, lonely IT guy who’s mostly been a pawn, gets his own story, and it’s incredibly sad and beautiful.
It’s okay to be a ghost. It has its pleasures.
You’re light. You float. You slip in and out unseen.
There’s no love to lose. Or burden to be.
You have so little to hold you down. You are free.
Some pearls are never found.
They hide under the sand on the ocean floor, No one knows they’re there.
But the pearl knows. Maybe there was a time he wanted to be found. To be seen. And to be held. But now, only hope hurts.
I am my own secret. A scret kept by me.
And then after he’s found an awkward love with Molly Shannon:
Something is changed.
Now, the ghost is scared.
He cannot float. He’s heavy. He’s flesh and blood. He must open doors. He can’t slip away unseen.
The ghost is sad. All those years invisible, haunting now.
Why didn’t he try? Or care? Or be?
The ghost is happy.
He is found. He is held. And he is seen. The ghost is seen.
I’ve always surrounded myself with lots of people, though I very much love to be alone. But when I’m alone NOT by choice, it’s terrifying. That unknown is terrifying. But I feel like Tyler is telling me through my computer screen that it’s okay to be alone, and it can be liberating, and that I should start comparing myself to pearls and using more pearl metaphors, in general, as this will win me lots of friends, including but not limited to Molly Shannon.
I have been SUPER EMOTIONALLY INVOLVED in the will they / won’t they of Nick and Jess on New Girl since the pilot, and they FINALLY KISSED, YOU GUYS. In the privacy of my room, I teen girled out and rewinded and rewatched about nine times. It was simultaneously predictable and unexpected, adorable and hot. KEEP KISSING GUYS. YOU MAKE (ME) AMERICA/ AND PROBABLY OTHER COUNTRIES HAPPY.
It is time to tell the LA sunshine to mind its own beeswax and instead, lay around all afternoon with boy watching home improvement, peppered occasionally with episodes of Kitchen Nightmare in which grown men cry over frozen meatballs. Also, it is Tool Time.
I love this new ABC show in which a family moves into a suburban neighborhood and discovers that their neighbors are ALIENNNNSSSSSS!!!!!!! and I DON’T care who knows it. I think it’s smart, sweet, charming, good old fashioned sitcomedy. My love for this show has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my buddies Isaac and Elizabeth are writing for it. I/E are a writing team who I met on Pants, who are not only great friends, incredibly good writers, but insanely attractive:
Sometimes I like to imagine myself just sort of seated between them.
The Debates, sleeping, going places, doing things, everything in the world that is not watching Homeland:
HOMELAND FOR THE WIN!
IS HE OR IS HE NOT A TERRORIST?! I MUST KNOW!
Except for the fact that if you know, do not tell me.
This morning while gyming, I happened upon a new reality show about some rich people in Texas. One blonde lady said to another, I’ve been really upset since Bonnie turned on me at the Pheasant Hunt. And then I watched it for nine hours, and we all lived happily ever after, our brains slowing turning to mush.
Having no belief or vision can lead to shape with conflict, but with no content or heart. Having Vision can lead to content, with no shape or conflict.
- Craig Wright after reading a scene that I wrote not well.