Don't Be So Hard On Woody

Its here, its here, its here!

Ahem...my new camera has arrived. (Very) recently, my old cantankerous standby left me; what better way to get over something than with something else? So, I got a sweet deal on a beautiful new Canon Powershot S2 IS. 5 megapixels, 12X zoom, and an image-stabilization that kisses those blurry twilight shots goodbye. Now that I've got exactly half of you glossed over and the other half giddy, I'll be sure to upload some photos once I get from under my study rock.

In concert with my new camera, Cecil's got his study groove back. I think I've found where my comfortable balance of satisfying study, enjoyable meals, steady routine, and requisite diversions.

Study, eat, study, eat, study. Add non-study fun every 3-4 days, and make sure no two successive study sessions are in the same venue. Crazy, eh? I'm beginning to count myself as an irregular regular at some of Houston's coolest non-Starbucks coffee shops, along with other irregular regulars. Small pleasures.

Two more things have got life looking a bit better. Match Point. Woody Allen's new film got some pretty mixed reviews, but I had the luxury of viewing it at our indy theater Angelika during Cheap Date Night (of note, while cheap I had no date, Downu and Ribka served as suitable proxy). Being largely naive to Allen's prototypical...ahem critic-expected, style I was a little apprehensive that I would find it as uncomfortable and disappointing as Indian Airlines. The critics can be hard on Woody, but their assessments are flaccid. Our listless atheist-Jewish/Ethiopian friend said it best, "I haven't been this much into a movie in a very long time." Absolutely. For me and a small contingent of fellow guilty, the most enjoyable points of laughter seem weakly socially inappropriate. Strong work Allen. It also acts as an indictment of the monied, beautiful, and privileged (apparently very much Woody) very subtly reflected of American Good Ole Boy & Co. Allen is apparently so masterful at his craft that, amazingly, you find yourself helplessly, guiltily, and expectantly routing for the irrefutable bad guy (similar to Black folk during the OJ trial, but without the acerbic taste). I'm obviously a new fan of Woody.

So see it. Especially you dialogue lovers.

Second thing that seems brighter is the Near East. Now, one may wonder, how exactly does a Black Marylander (or Texan by ancestry), become so invested in the goings on a hardline Israel and Islamic republics? Well, this is more or less the harbinger of things to come really. Another example of Bush & Co. needlessly meddling in world affairs to create worse world affairs (and subsequently meddling with those) which are incredibly consequential to those of us that'll be around if and when the mierda really hits the fan. The results of the aforementioned meddling will long outlive the gray-haired, misguided souls. Fighting ideology with ideology. In any case, call it the optimist in me, but Iran sounding enthusiastic about Russia handling uranium enrichment makes me positively guilty. One more nuclear winter potentially avoided. Add a dash of Palestinian parliamentary elections, the realization that a leftist Bolivia is inconsequential to America, and Houston getting a soccer team. Significant, albeit painfully incremental, change toward stability.

Stability seems to be everything these days.