A Blog Concerning the Civil War That Doesn't Mention Patrick Swayze's Performance in North and South

I had the day off yesterday, so I ran some very boring errands, got mild food poisoning from some diner meatloaf, and then settled into grandma mode for the rest of the evening.

...which just means I did crafts and watched documentaries all night, but the fact that last night's craft was needlepoint really upped the geezer-factor.

As I sewed what will soon become a grand masterpiece (but is now shrouded in the greatest of secrecy), I checked out Reel Injun, which focused on the portrayal of Native Americans in film.

I felt really guilty watching it for 2 reasons:

1. I find the word "injun" hilarious

2. Throughout the whole film they talked about how white people just seem to loooooove Native American culture...whether revering or desecrating it, and I'm totally one of those lame white people (on the revering side)

In high school I took a Native American studies class and I was so excited...little did I know it was actually a bullshit hour with open-book tests and screenings of Son of the Morning Star starring Gary Cole (better known as Office Space's Bill Lumbergh) as General Custer.

Sidebar: it will never cease to amaze me how in a class with open-book tests (every single one!!) that people still found the nerve to cheat off me. Your only requirement for the class was that you stayed awake for Dances With Wolves and The Last of the Mohicans and you couldn't even handle that????

Anyway...

I don't know. I find the culture interesting...and that sentence right there proves what a wasi'chu I am...

The movie really drove home the fact that people just kind of lump all Indians together, when in fact there are tons of distinct cultures across Native American history.

To bring it back to the funny side (if no less culturally ignorant) my favorite part of the documentary was when they had the montage of all the white (SUPER white) actors that have played Indians in movies.

Apparently even Audrey Hepburn did it (although she didn't make it to the montage).

I was sad that Cloud Dancing didn't get the credit he deserved, but it takes a sophisticated mind to fully understand his cultural significance.

After the injuns, I stumbled across Ken Burns' The West, and I thought it would make a swell double feature, but I very quickly got distracted by his The Civil War instead.

I'm a sucker for the Civil War.

Maybe it's because my grandpa loves it and it's just genetic...

...his email address is "Stonewall" and then his birthday for god's sake...I'll withhold the service provider. (who am I kidding, he's old, it's AOL, obviously)

Maybe it's because Cold Mountain is the greatest movie ever, or maybe it's because one my favorite Twilight Zones is set against the backdrop of the civil war...

...or maybe it's the exact opposite and the only reason I like any of that crap is because I have an inexplicable love for an era that saw the death of 2% of the population.

Everyone needs a hobby.

If you have any interest at all in the period, the Ken Burns documentary is pretty much the visual holy bible.

One of the letters of a soon-to-be dead soldier was read and it made me cry all over my needlepoint...how very 19th century of me.

It also made me almost throw up my delicious dinner (the poisoned meatloaf was lunch) when it showed some unbelievably graphic images of the battlefield.

Pile of discarded amputated limbs anyone? (link NOT provided)

The documentary is broken out into several parts so I've still got a lot of watching to do. I'm also currently reading a bio on George Washington and about 2/3 of the book focuses (I guess rightly so) on the Revolutionary War...

...needless to say, I am going to be pretty war'd out soon.

I'm going to have to start reading some hippie literature about peace and love to get me back in balance...

...but more than likely I'll just watch Arrested Development.

Sorry I'm Not Sorry.

I should just make updating this blog a quarterly assignment and get all the suspense over with. Thank god I'm more efficient in most other aspects of my life.

What's new? Well I moved. First to an apartment that was always about 10 degrees from the outside temperature (never in the way you'd hoped), above a guy who I have it on good authority dropped a lot of acid. Then (and currently) to a place so adorable and cozy that I feel like I should start a glossy magazine just so I can put pictures of it on the cover.

More importantly, I'm making a grand attempt to incorporate the word "slut" into everyday speech...an endeavor made popular by DG.

Slutever.

Anyway, that's my news, so now let's dive in to the boob tube, shall we?

Let's land ooooooon...

Sons of Anarchy.

Anyone reading this who may have contact with my sister, please explain to her that this show was basically written for her; she doesn't seem to take it seriously when I tell her that, so maybe you'll have better luck.

There are volatile personalities, family drama, and a handsome blonde lead...it's just like her favorite, Rescue Me! (that is, if you consider Denis Leary handsome, and yes, I know she does)

The handsome blonde lead in SoA is Charlie Hunnam. I drooled over him back on Undeclared, and then got mad at him for a while after Cold Mountain, but he managed to steal my heart yet again by throwing on some leather and walking with an adorably ridiculous swagger.

Just precious.

And then there's Katie Sagal.

My love for Katie is as big as Peggy Bundy's hair and as focused as Leela's lone eye.

Have you watched any Married with Children lately? It is still hilarious.

The 90's were a tenuous time for comedy (and all things), but MwC stands its beer-soaked ground! And I love knowing that 3 of the 4 leads are still, 20 years later, wildly successful.

Sorry David Faustino. You gave it all your little pocket-person body had.

And if you thought Peggy Bundy's tight, leopard-print, leggings were scary, just wait til you see Gemma Teller cut a bitch with words!

Being a biker is frightening, but all the shooting and the drug dealing and the backstabbing is tame compared to Gemma thinking you's a ho!

It's enough to make you only want to be with men whose mothers are dead...that and 1000 years of misogynistic anecdotes about in-laws...

Now my cat is giving me side-eye that says, "go to bed, you are my human pillow, and you just made a really terrible joke about dead moms" so I'm going to listen to her before she Gemma's my ass.

...that's almost as good as "slutever."

You Win Some, You Lose Some, and Sometimes You Just Throw Up

What the fuck did I just spend the last hour and a half of my life watching???

...let me back up a little bit here.

A week or two ago, Netflix kicked out one of their finest recommendations for me to date: The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia. It's a documentary about the White family...of (wait for it) West Virginia. The father was a famous mountain dancer, and so was one of his 13 kids. The documentary followed a bunch of the siblings as they lived their crazy, drug-fueled, lives in rural Appalachia. Do yourself and watch the trailer, above.

It had bluegrass music, mountain people, and adorable southern colloquialisms, so obviously, I was in heaven.

Fast forward to today. I was all sleepy from drinking beer and watching baseball, so perhaps my judgment was impaired (I did try and watch Gothika before this), but I decided to watch White Lightnin', because this is the description:

Dominic Murphy directs this dramatized portrait of West Virginia's "Dancing Outlaw," Jesco White (Edward Hogg), who turned his back on a misspent youth to learn an Appalachian tap-dancing style called "mountain dancing" made famous by his father, D. Ray White. When his dad is murdered, Jesco uses mountain dancing to exorcise his impulse to get revenge, but soon his thirst for justice becomes too strong to dance away.

Take a peek at the trailer for this one:



Looks palatable, right? A nice little film about DANCIN'.

NO.

JUST. NO.

First of all, yes they say it is a "dramatized portrait," but that is basically the understatement of the year. Mild spoiler alert here, and I mean, I'm not 100% sure, but I'm fairly certain that Jesco White, who is a real human being and was featured in the documentary, didn't actually brutally murder 3 people and become a mountain hermit outlaw who chops off his own fingers...

...BUT THAT IS WHAT HAPPENED IN THIS MOVIE.

Now, I have watched a lot of movies, and many of them have included graphic violence, but a particular scene in this one was just more than I could handle. Maybe it was the fact that it was in gritty black and white, maybe it had to do with the involvement of chicken feces...I DON'T KNOW, but the point is, I almost threw up in my bed, and I don't appreciate being made to feel that way.

I feel like Gothika might even be palate-cleansing right now, which should also illustrate my extreme distaste for this movie.

Wow, I just popped back over to Netflix to see what made it recommend the original documentary to me in the first place, and I kid you not, this is what it said: Recommended based on your interest in Wet Hot American Summer, Reno 911, and Sons of Anarchy.

WHAT??

Only one of those makes any sense to me, and I'll just let you try and figure out which it is...

Netflix, you may have just jumped the shark.

(but not really)