Tuesday, August 09, 2005

if you publish a blog and no-one reads it, are you still a writer?

i have mastered the fine art of procrastinating on my copywriting projects until the very last minute. the only problem with that is, my teacher actually likes them. not that he doesn't give every student positive feedback, but ALL of my teachers seem to actually like most of my ideas. even my half-assed guerilla idea for la-z boy that involves a militant group called las pararillas who refuse to sit in anything but recliners & rampage through cities, leaving propaganda posters, their manifesto, & foot-shaped sticker that call people to action by standing. ha. how literal.
it's another example of me getting away with murder and feeling guilty about it. i s'pose i can owe all of it to being the only child of a jewish mother.
ah, jewish mothers... i find myself looking more & more jewish as i get older, though i distance myself from any of the empty traditions i practiced as achild. odd, now, that i have to revisit these themes to come up with work for the san fran jewish film fest. i'm working with the idea of making b-movie style horror film posters, featuring horrific portrayls of nagging yentas & menacing moyls. oy.
i have to tackle the task of rebranding america, making people respect & admire americans again, which scares the bloody hell out of me. how can i do this effectively when i cringe every day, listening to npr, reading about the push for educating elementary school children about intelligent design, lamenting the future of this country (the future of the world, no less)?
i watched the battle of algiers this weekend and cried like a baby. have found myself recently moved to tears by the actions of vehement fundamentalists and the people who take violent actions against them, in turn. i can't seem to side with anyone, but am profoundly distressed and dismayed by faraway, not-so-random acts of violence that penetrate my quiet little existence. after the incidents in london, i became nauseous every time i read the newspaper or someone asked me about my family. the line that goes straight to my old neighborhood was closed temporarily.
enough on this note... i'm trembling from too much coffee & babbling incoherently anyway...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

if this blog makes you a writer, than consider yourself celebrated, because i read it.