Pristine Angie’s Good Homemaker Adventures at www.d332.com

Here at D332.com, we are committed to alerting our gentle readers of the latest trends in fashion. Although hemlines may go up and down with the Dow Jones Index, we firmly believe there are certain lengths that should stay within the confines of propriety.

Anyone who has ever visited a transvestite bar will know why manufacturers of skirts target this special demographic. The rule of thumb, “take 5 inches off respectable, and then take 3 more inches off that” leaves bolts of fabric unused in the warehouse.

I often wondered why so many straight married men unconsciously associate the term “transvestite” with “free sloppy sex with two bought drinks, no questions asked, to be continued next week same time same place.” Any trans* girls who has ever complained about the difficulties of finding true love need to consult no further than this chart above.

I believe this is a good explanation of why so few men take us seriously when it comes to relationships.

From the bottom up:

New England Spinster - Even Brad Pitt doesn’t get a cursory glance

Talbot’s Customer - Tom Cruise will get thrown out of bed for eating crackers

Corporate Executive - You need to look sexy just so everyone thinks you slept your way to the top and the CEO doesn’t get intimidated that your ambition and ability will replace him in five years.

Actual Schoolgirl - Guys take cold showers just because they thought about looking at you.

Tennis Player - The ball is still in your court.

Working Schoolgirl - Guys take hot soapy baths after looking at you.

Tranny Bar Freebie - Bob Dylan may have written “Girl On Fire” for Edie Sedgwick, but “Blowin’ In The Wind” is all you.

As promised, here are pictures of me actually out around town with Bob.

Me and Bob at BUMP in Philadelphia on my birthday.

Me at the Shofuso Japanese House in Philadelphia

As most of you may have already heard, Tim Russert passed away on June 13th. If you get a chance to watch the MSNBC special or NBC this morning, you should do it. I guarantee you will walk away a different person. It’s not just about a newsman. It’s about the idea of quality, the commitment to excellence, and the great can-do optimism that made this country great.

The internet is piling up with blog and news entries about this, so there’s really no need to repeat too much here. Predictably, there are bloggers who shrug and go “big deal, he was just a newsman, what’s the fuss all about?”

It’s about so much more than just a newsman.

Russert’s story and life was one of enthusiasm, joy, hard work and a belief that the American viewer deserved more than mere punditry. He was also respected for being well-prepared, thoroughly researching the politicians who come to sit on the Meet The Press hot seat, and going medieval on their seats when they try to worm their way out of accountability. I can’t count how many times reporters and anchormen and women have backed down when a politician refuses to provide an answer that every American has a right to know.

One doesn’t really appreciate this until “journalism” from other countries are inspected. There are places where news is doctored to such a degree that no locals even treat it as truth. My country of birth, for example, has government -to this day - who can conveniently arrange for a journalist with Russert’s persistence to disappear overnight. Even though I have lived in the US for thirty years, not a day goes by when I don’t appreciate the freedom of speech.

I know people in the armed forces are fond of saying “freedom isn’t free.” Though the cost of freedom is debatable, what Russert did was to make that earned freedom worthwhile. Not a breath was squandered when accountability was demanded. I just hope the new generation of journalists don’t get inspired by the loud, shouting FOX-News brand of critical inquiry.

What is quite endearing about Russert on this special day, was his love of life, work, and family. Look at any of the pictures of him outside the shots from Meet The Press. The fellow had the biggest, most optimistic smile that I love. It was a smile loaded with promises and the great Kerouac American spirit. He had also written a book about his close relationship with his dad, Big Russ & Me. For a man who was not only all about family, but dedicated himself to sharing the joyful wonder of his Father-Son relationship, it’s heartbreaking that he should go two days before Father’s Day. Just…sigh.

I once asked my first art teacher what decade he thought was the greatest in American history. His answer would come to play a big role in who I am today: “The 50s saw America at the height of the nation. The GI Bill had produced the highest percentage of college-educated people in the population, war was behind us, the technology left over from wartime was producing products with the highest quality the country had ever seen. The future looked bright and full of possibilities and companies were committed to excellence.”

It’s no surprise Tim Russert was born in the beginning of the 50s.

A Chinese woman’s father gets murdered in San Francisco.

She outsmarts gangsters and evades them. Fashionable, stylish, and affluent, she embarks on a solo journey to an island in Central America on a mission to nail the head of the gang.

On the other end, a Chinese American federal agent attempts to solve the murder case alone, so he goes undercover.

Eventually they both meet, and join forces to solve the case.

They both speak clear, unbroken English with no visible accent.

They defeat the criminals and ride off into the sunset together.

Am I dreaming?! THIS is not the pigeonhole extravaganza known as Hollywood today! Is this some Bizzaro world where everything has been turned on its head? Is there actually hope that Hollywood can actually show people as they are?!!

NO. This was Hollywood SEVENTY YEARS AGO, and the film is called Daughter of Shanghai. This month on TCM’s Asian Images In Film.

…continue readingTurner Classics Movies : Asian Images In Film (Update: June 12, 2008)

The fabulous and hilariously witty art of Robert de Michiell will be on display at the Alden Gallery in Provincetown, in his first solo show ever. This comes after decades of distinguished illustrations for Entertainment Weekly, Premiere, Time Magazine, and the cover and pages of The New Yorker Magazine.

Alongside movie critic and sometimes housewife Libby Gelman-Waxner, De Michiell has gently poked fun of all the celebs in Gelman Waxner’s movie column “If You Ask Me.” (Now compiled in the paperback collection If You Ask Me: The Collected Columns of America’s Most Beloved and Irresponsible Critic .

De Michiell’s work is a household item even if you may not have heard of him; his familiar style has been unabashedly copied by magazine illustrators from all corners of the globe. Combining an economy of strokes with a cheerful minimalistic, sometimes cubist palette, this American artist captures the essence of both famous personalities and familiar personae while revealing interior angles we have often thought about but never possessed the tools to vocalize.

Image taken from the I-Spot

His exhibit will also coincide with Provincetown’s 10th Annual International Film Festival which will run from June 18-June 22.

I normally don’t spend much time on transgender-focused websites. For the path I am taking (non-hormones, non-surgical (the big one)), much of the information only applies to a small degree. Once in a while, I do need to look up topics such as work and ID issues. When I do, the first place I go is Andrea James’s Excellent TS Road Map.

There are many many websites dedicated to Transgender lifestyles and Timetables. However, if you didn’t know what you were doing, you’d have to sift through a pile of links, 85% of which are devoted to weekend warriors and bedroom transgirls, and the other 10% are fake sites. So where are the remaining 5%. In my opinion, TS Road Map is a one-stop shopping center of facts and ideas. And it applies to anyone who is embarking on, or seriously considering doing it full time.

I’m sure my mysteriously absent readers (who communicate by email but never by commenting) can suggest many more relevant sites. Feel free to, by whatever methods. TS Road Map has a links section and looking over them, I see names and places that have been around since the late early 90s, so you are in good hands. Check out also her links on Fake Internet Transsexuals.

Andrea James has been generous with her knowledge, and you will be sure to gain an insight into how to go about certain aspects of your T*ness. I know I learned something. Of all the websites I have seen, this one is the most well-organized, cleanly laid-out info depot. Just reading some of the pages will reassure you that you are not alone.

Also a particularly notable site I was reading before revisiting TS Road Map is the Transgender At Work website. Also, check out Transgender Employment Links at Gender Sanity. There is a wealth of lifesaving information and links here for anyone who wants to come out at or between jobs.

Ira Levin’s original 1972 novella The Stepford Wives was both suspense and witty satire. It told the story of Joanna Eberhart, a semi-professional photographer who moves to a small town in Connecticut away from New York City. Living with her husband and two children, Joanna notices the women of Stepford being staid, cheery homemakers who were obsessed with cleaning and cooking. Their husbands, a group of computer and chemical engineers spent most of their time in the Men’s Association, where women are barred from entering. She befriends Bobbie Markowe, a neighbor who exhibits all the traits opposite to those of the Stepford Wives. Together, they try to drum up a consciousness-raising group for women and bring feminism into Stepford. Along the way, they notice a pattern of change occurring among the wives. After looking into the newspaper archives, Joanna discovers that there once existed a Stepford Women’s Group headed by someone who was now only concerned with daily chores in her kitchen. How did this transition occurred and can Joanna escape the ever tightening grip?

The term Stepford Wives has become a household word in the course of thirty some years since it’s inception. Though no such town exists in Connecticut, the state of mind in the code of a Stepford Wife remains a point of debate between those who celebrate homemaking versus those who feel domestic chores are a patriarchal conspiracy to keep women from entering professional careers.

Though there have been several adaptations of Levin’s book, we shall stick with the original text to create a list on how to become a Stepford Wife.

APPEARANCE:
Be the picture of traditional femininity. Get your hair and nails done and be dressed well all the time, even if it’s going out to the driveway to fetch mail. Remember, you have to achieve robotic perfection. That means all that work and time will be going into appearing in tip top condition and being ultra-neat.

(note: Director Bryan Forbes made the first Stepford Wives movie. Because he insisted on his wife Nanette Newman being cast for a role, and she did not have a slender figure, wardrobe for the movie had to be drastically altered to “hide” her shape. This led to the flowery frocks that people have incorrectly come to associate with the image of the Stepford Wife. The Stepford Wife is a product of the male imagination at it’s most lubricious level. If you are at a loss for references to such imagination, pick up a copy of FHM magazine and multiply that with a Maxim magazine.

1. Always wear your makeup.

2. Always take care of your hair. Not a strand should be out of place.

3. If you are not well-endowed in your torso area, use bra inserts, augmenters, or the chicshaper. Large bosoms featured prominently in Levin’s original story.

4. If you are not thin, wear a girdle.

5. Wear tight, but conservatively-cut clothing to show off your assets. (Remember to wear an apron during housework)

6. Look in the mirror. Imagine yourself as a girl in a television commercial; you should look flawless, at all times. The picture of the Stepford Wife is the picture of a person who is healthy and takes good care of herself.

ACTIVITY:
Now you are ready to start your day. You are a domestic goddess and the home is your domain. Your home away from home is the supermarket. And the only higher power you answer to (and only when you are spoken to) are the men in your lives. That means, in order: your husband, your son, and then other men.

7. Clean clean clean! Everything needs to be spotless. Even if it takes a dozen repeated rubs, scrubs, and buff in the same spot. Clean and clean some more, in every corner of the house.

8. Cook.

9. Shop at the supermarket. Push your cart slowly. All items need to be placed in your shopping cart neatly, methodically, and in an orderly fashion.

MANNERS:
Stepford Wives are the model of etiquette. They are quiet and they speak softly. They use good manners, apologize often, and are perennially cheery. A Stepford Wife smiles as smiling is an act of submissiveness and agreeableness.

10. Practice gracious and polite behavior even when you are alone. Eat with the silverware in place even when you eat alone. Etiquette and proper manners begin at home, when no one is looking.

11. Never raise your voice.

12. Always say “please” and “thank you” for the smallest things, in public and private.

13. Always apologize for the smallest things, in public and private.

14. Do not possess any strong opinions on any subject, unless you are expressing enthusiasm for cleaning products or food ingredients and recipes.

15. Your man is No.1. He is the kingpin in your life. You answer first to him, then to your son, and then other men (and only when you are spoken to).

16. Don’t read, because who has time when you have this much housework to do and so many men to attend to?

I’m sitting here scratching my head while reading the reviews for the new illustrationless BETWEEN HUSBAND AND WIFE - (REVISED) Gospel Perspectives on Marital Intimacy. Don’t get me wrong. The Mormons have provided me with countless hours of reading pleasure. (The two Andelin books are the two books I would pick to take on a desert island).

But in the Amazon reviews, everyone’s talking about a chapter called “Drawing the Line” where the “unnatural, unholy” act is admonished as something that should not be done.

I was trying to figure out what that “unnatural, unholy” act was.

Turns out, it’s oral sex.

I can’t tell you how much of a relief that was.

I kept thinking they were talking about an 8-way with an RC on the sofa leading to a DAP while I have my tea before doing ATM’s that lead to a switch piledriver then ending in a Tony Danza Donkey Punch topped with multiple facials.

Phew…guess I’m in the clear after all!

Imagine someone telling you:

“Hi, I’m with the A/ABiCgGfGqIsLGTQPsPoly3rdg2sK of New York? We were wondering if you support the A/ABiCgGfGqIsLGTQPsPoly3rdg2s’s of our society?”

Once upon a time, there used to be a LGBT community. Then someone discovered male enhancement pills, took some, and found he couldn’t afford a Hummer.

And now: A/ABiCgGfGqIsLGTQPsPoly3rdg2s (Androngyne/Ambigender/Bisexual/Cisgendered/Genderf**k/Genderqueer/Intersex/Lesbian/gay/transgendered/Pansexual/Poly/Third gender/Two spirit)

I think diversity is a great idea, but continously segregating, sectioning and diluting already small groups into microscopic levels, like the concept of political correctness, is just playing into the hands of the powers that be.

Think of a Yahoo Group. If there’s four large groups, and they mobilized with each other and put their differences aside, they could get quite a few things accomplished.

But many insist on having their own identity (consumerism having been blurred into individualism), and so, instead of coming together, you have a thousand Yahoo Groups with 2-3 members each that nobody reads.

Now go out to the midwest, where the LGBT is a small group in a local town. Does anyone have the luxury to enter a war of words just to declare their two-spirit identity?

Ironically, the very people who fight for diversity and argue against being labeled are turning into the people who want to label themselves to specificity ad nauseum. Instead of combining our minds to think of bold new solutions, we’re fighting amongst ourselves over mere letters.

In the time it takes for me to argue whether I’m A/ABiCgGfGqIsLGTQPsPoly3rdg2s, I’d already have been able to tell you I’m a human being.

man robs Burger King in New Orleans wearing a dress

Man in New Orleans climbed through the take-out window of a Burger King and robbed the place at gunpoint. Looking at the first frame at the top, I have to say that the choice to use a silver semi-automatic shows tremendous foresight; not only does the silver coordinate with the metal panels of the drive through booth, the gray tones of the brushed metal compliments pink flowers on the flower print dress in a delightful gray/pink combination.

Where we seem to go wrong is the orange-reddish bead necklace. This throws a wrench in the color palette even though we are looking at an analogous color scheme. For future criminal acts, d332’s Good Homemaker wardrobe advice department recommends a lighter, more neutral beaded necklace.

I know both sexes have complained about the opposing team not vocalizing enough about what they want. But men, (and I know this is a stereotype) being not proned to over-verbalizing, are really the party that retains its mystery.

Let’s make no mistake about this: Women tend to be more vocal about their wants and needs. To this day, I have never had a guy sit down and say “We really need to have a talk about my needs.”

The internet is a great pressure release. It affords men the ability to come out and complain about what they want, something they are not allowed to do by mainstream society. I see this as a rare opportunity, an opening to learn what goes on in men’s heads. They can whine and nag without being seen as less masculine. Instead, many women get insulted and lash back at the digusting political incorrectness of their gripes. The two are unrelated. If guys are yelling and screaming online repeatedly for something, that tells me, that there’s a level of consensus on what certain men want.

I know if guys (the ones who are vocal, online, and have Maxim subscriptions anyway) are in agreement that they want us to shut up and keep the beers moving, then what’s the harm in giving it a shot? You don’t have to follow it word-for-word. Just know the general design, and, like a fashion show, emulate the direction as a vague blueprint. And if all that doesn’t work, well we can always go back to reciting Catherine MacKinnon’s legal advice and reading aloud the poetry of Emily Dickinson.

Marie-Josée Croze as Henriette Durand

My earliest memory of Julian Schnabel are of mural-sized paintings, and photographs of the artist, topless, standing on windswept beaches. When his other films Basquiat and When Night Falls came out, I was hoping to see how he would translate it on to the screen. Everything I expected from those previous films is present in The Diving Bell and the Butterfly where a pedestrian filmgoer like myself, can clearly detect the wonderful vista in the mind of an artist’s eye. The electronically-tinted tidewater glaciers breaking off in slow motion, majestically to Bach’s Concerto for Piano BWV 1056 Adagio is an absolute delight. Long hair blowing in an open-top convertible, the setting sun on the surface of a woman’s face. These are things that keep one’s interior warm and alive.

And speaking of the eyes, Mathieu Amalric has the most difficult job in the world: acting an entire movie with one eyeball. He succeeds with one dilated eye, anxiously bursting to free itself from the paralyzed body in which it belongs. Although Emmanuelle Seigner is featured on the cover, the real treat is Marie-Josée Croze as the therapist. Croze is one of those actors who, like Amanda Plummer, has such a total command of her face, she can make one dimple twist a certain way while an eyebrow moves another way, combining a facial expression that is constantly shifting, with complex emotions subtlely underlined. Anne Consigny as the stoic and handsome assistant gives that one working eye a good reason to open up each morning. If one were to pick actors for the many classical Bergman facial shots in this film, the ones presented here were excellent choices.

At first, The Diving Bell and The Butterfly reminded me of Johnny Got His Gun. After a while, like the incantation of the lettering system (”E,S,A,R,I,N….”) the story comes into its own, developing its unique visual vocabulary and rhythm. Like the most frequently-used letters, our protagonist draws on his most meaningful memories and imaginative fragments to help him construct a viable reason to exist and recuperate. It’s almost a play on the phrase “do I have to spell it out for you?” as we often see, from within the patient/narrator, that you can assemble letters into words, and then words into sentences, and yet, what is really going on inside your head, cannot always be translated.

I have been wanting to get to re-writing my Introduction Page to this site for over a year. I’ve always shied away from paying too much attention to my website, as those of you who know me have already discovered. Any mention of any pictures will bring me here to look up, since I don’t remember which is being referred to.

While attending to my Introduction Page, I noticed many hyperlinks that go in all direction. That’s because this website is 11 years old this August. It has gone through a multitude of changes.

One of the things I promise myself to do more is to bring a camera with me when I do go out with friends. I hate for anyone to think that this girl sits at home and snaps pictures all day. I do go out often, but I never tote a camera along. I also promise to smile in more of my pictures.

Here is the new Introduction to this website (which can also be found on the upper corner side bar of every page entitled Introduction)

Eleven years after the debut of my first website at Yahoo Geocities in 1997, the mere six page Transvestite Freedom Fighter has morphed into a veritable beast in a labyrinthine maze of links. Although all the original pages can be found archived here, the original concept of the website rests on one fundamental idea: “Never apologize for who you are, or what your website is about.” I never understood why transgendered people continually prefaced their webpages with an adult warning content. Transvestite Freedom Fighter was a call to stop associating one’s identity in the same category as explicit adult content.

Eventually, the page changed into The Art of Not Passing. This theme inspected the whole importance many transgendered people put on passing. As a person who is on the fringe even within the transgender community, I saw passing as a curious metaphor for conforming. It wasn’t that I had any problems with the notion of passing. After all, one must pass to experience as little friction in our non-accepting culture, seeing that transgender people are the final frontier for prejudiced treatment in modern day. I simply chose to inspect the idea of passing as a way to illustrate how everyone needs to “pass” according to their environment, in order to survive and function.

I believe the day everyone passes will be the day the label “transgender” gets retired. Much like a global economy and a global culture, indigenous societies and unique voices are quickly being swallowed up, losing their identities.

The Art of Not Passing then became The Solitary Arc, which was just a collection of my writings and pictures. In a way,The Solitary Arc paved the way for the self-identifying d332.com. I’ve always felt that with all the transgender websites detailing every aspect of SRS and transitioning, the collective perception of trans* people is that SRS and transitioning is all we talk about. So I thought I’d reveal instead, the other things that occupy this transgender person’s mind.

I am driven by a sense of happiness that I derive from speaking to the people within the culture. I wanted to provide a modest but positive free website on the internet regarding the community, because we haven’t really been given a fair chance in the public’s eye. Most of what people get from search engine returns either adult sites or argumentative in-fighting within the t* discussion groups (and there’s a lot of that).

Certainly, the group that is closest to my heart, the brash, self-descriptive gay transvestites, have been disappointingly under-represented.

So here I am.

I have been transgender for over thirty years. I don’t plan to transition fully, but I’m going to get a few bumps put on here and a few bumps taken off from there. Anyway you cut it, both the male and female anatomy are gorgeously remarkable works of art. I am struck by wonder when I think about the beauty of the human body. I am not a hormone-taker, as I feel that sex drive is one of the critical lifeforce in sustaining the great human imagination.

My increasing preoccupation with the home-making Stepford Wife has made this website arrive at the point it is at today. Although I am a staunch advocate for women’s rights, equality, and feminism, I also believe that everyone should be able to live free and chose the life they want to lead. Stepford Wives, and more importantly for me, the docile Asian “Lotus Flower” are social constructs. The difference between the two is that one lives in comfort and modest luxury, while the other has to make do with bargain-hunting white males. For my personality type, the choice is clear.

Human beings are constantly in danger in their coexistence with viruses. But we shouldn’t flatter ourselves as superior beings. Instead, we should take the path of virus mutation as an ideal, and develop accordingly. I want to continuously, energetically, and joyfully change, morph, improve, learn, and absorb knowledge, wisdom, and humane lessons with each passing day.

This, for me, is the most important transition: to be a human being first, and a transgendered person second.

So relax, make yourself at home, and enjoy!

Director Kenji Mizoguchi once dropped his shirt and exposed his back to a colleague. There were two scars that were the result of razor slashes. He got it from a prostitute he was seeing. Mizoguchi said, “you see these? Until you get them, you are not allowed to make any movies about women.”

When I saw Ugetsu, Mizoguchi’s acclaimed film, I thought everything else from his filmography would be lacking in some way. I was wrong. I just watched Sansho the Bailiff last night, and all I can say is, words can’t even begin to do this movie justice.

Not a single frame is wasted. If you randomly picked any scene from the movie (look under cut), the composition will be classically proportioned. Negative space is gorgeously balanced to a T and the lighting is absolutely iridescent. Sansho is a two hour seminar on photographic composition. With each scene, I asked myself, “How long can Kazuo Miyagawa (cinematographer) keep this up? Nobody can be that good consistently!”

Again, I stand corrected. Up until the final frame, every shot is spectacularly composed.

The story is about a family split up by vicissitudes and crooked people. Armed with only a two-sentence precept, a child must endure a life of slavery and cruelty before he attempts escape in order to re-unite his once noble family. The humane story is beautifully acted, reaching a level of conviction that one almost feels it’s a real life occurrence. The speech where Yoshiaki Hanayagi announces the end of slavery in the compound is so intense, you feel the madness radiating off the screen when human beings are indentured in chains. Mizoguchi’s indigenous Japanese style shines under his always sympathetic narrative of women’s plight.

One of the handful of movies that actually brought tears to my eyes. And I’m notoriously known among friends as the ice-queen who walked out on Terms of Endearment. For me, there is no message greater than the one presented here: the importance of the humane act as a moral code of conduct.

I’m in awe that once there existed a society that made such fantastically crafted films with a deep meaningful message, and after all these decades, all these technological leaps, and all the atrocities we have seen, that craft is all but lost in the loud, bombastic, CGI-manipulated instant gratification of Hollywood creations.

And we just accept it.

Look at audio standards. There used to be a time when people turned their noses up at high-fidelity records, claiming only reel-to-reel can retain fidelity to recordings. Now, a 96 kbps is the standard and few demand more.

Click on the title for more screenshots from Sansho.
…continue readingReview: Kenji Mizoguchi’s Sansho the Bailiff (update: May 13, 2008)

I’m not sure if anyone noticed this, but with the advent of the Super-rockgroup comeback (combining rockbands on mega concerts), the mall-ification of commodities has become the new marketing concept.

Commercials feature multiple products pitched in thirty seconds. TV sitcoms have commercials running on the announcement bar while you watch.

So why haven’t we yet combined reality shows? I mean, the Jeffersons showed up in Archie Bunker’s home. The Fonz dropped in on Laverne and Shirley. So let’s get this party started!

My #1 vote for the most obvious combination of reality shows:

Bridezillas on World’s Deadliest Catch.

It’s the natural solution AND natural selection for a dreadful problem in humanity. Why risk honest, hard-working men (and sometimes reformed ex-convicts) for a job when you can use a segment of society that serves no function whatsoever? The best part of Bridezillas on World’s Deadliest Catch is that Captain Sig Hanson never has to stop his ship if a greenhorn should go overboard. Just keep on moving.

Additional suggested combinations follows (TV programmers and Nielsen families, pay attention!):

How it is Made vs Man Vs Wild

Everyone has heard the scandal of how Bear Grylls tows his “wild horse” in from a farm to attempt to rope in, or that he checked into the local Hilton when he was supposed to be roughing it out in a straw teepee in the wild, or how his crew hunts down a rabbit for him before he chucks the improvised spear. I’d like to know how you can make it through the night with eight branches for a campfire when Survivorman Les Stroud continually advises “take the amount you think you’ll need to help you make it through the night, then multiply it by six times.” Well, here is a suggestion you can make to Discovery Channel.

Brookhaven Obesity Clinic vs. Survivorman

This one is self-explanatory. Put a bunch of people who each need to eat five whole chickens, four dozen eggs, ten pounds of bacon as an aperitif to a breakfast vat of chee-tohs on an island where they have to live off tree roots and leaf shavings. Problem solved.

American Chopper vs Cash Cab

Just the arguments in that little cab alone. Money can’t buy.

MTV The Hills vs. World’s Dirtiest Job

This used to be called Simple Life, but I’m willing to bet this combo will be far more entertaining.

A frame from Shirin Neshat’s work (click on picture to go to an interview with the director)

I still remember how much I was tickled when someone talked to me at a party, then decided to visit this website afterwards. There’s a slight discrepancy between What I talk about in person, and what goes on in my little head when I’m alone.

In person I talk about Hello Kitty, stuff animals, hot pockets, Family Guy, Bloo, the movies of Emma Roberts, and pizza, pink things in general.

When I’m alone, I come to this website, or Amazon reviews, to wreak havoc and see how I can trump my last entry with something even more excruciatingly dry and obscure.

My latest entertainment consists of watching, reading, and learning about the evolution of Iranian cinema. A good place to begin is the documentary Iran: A Cinematographic Revolution.

Arabic film-makers intrigue me because human representation in their traditional art is mostly forbidden. Lacking a geneology of human portraits, film-makers had to rely strictly on visions erected through the written word. Of course, outside influences are bound to play a role, but an indigenous style seems more likely in cultures that resist Western influences more actively than those who accept it.

Of course, having seen Shirin Neshat’s installation Rapture at the Whitney Biennial in NYC instantly endeared my attention to this widely respected community of film-makers, that is little known in the US.

I have Palestinian friends who tell me that the American image of the Arabic world, filled with people chanting for the demise of the white Satan is a false impression, much like Berliners who once asked me whether America was filled with Bush supporters who accepted every word from Fox News. The story of Iranian cinema goes along the same lines: directors and film-makers continually face censorship as they tried to reveal the real poverty-stricken Iran vs. the mythological Disney World promoted during the Shah’s regime.

When the Ayatollah took hold, over a thousand cinemas were burnt to the ground, because it allowed licentious portrayals of women. However, directors and film continued to be trained by the thousands. Yes, there were tight controls on what could or could not be filmed, but this has always been part of the tension between governing bodies and artists who controlled the most powerful medium in modern times: Kieslowski and Tarkovsky both had to use metaphors in their films to go beneath the radar and relay what they really wanted to say.

Keep in mind that it was due to the Bolshevik Revolution that many classically trained artists escaped into the Middle East. Henceforth the genealogy of Russian storytelling had been grafted into the Iranian narrative, beginning with Ovanes Ohanian in Hadji Agha.

Kamran Shirdel attempted to show the real Iran in his movie Teheran, Capital of Iran (1965), but it was banned by the Shah. Fereydoun Goleh, the outspoken and insightful Mohsen Makhmalbaf (Marriage of the Blessed (1989)), the voice of Iranian women appears in Rakhshan Bani-Etemad’s Nargess (1992), then there’s Pomegranate and Cane, Turtles can Fly, and of course, the works of Abbas Kiarostami are all things I need to get my grubby hands on.

I, along with experimental film lovers still eagerly await the release of Shirin Neshat’s work on dvd, as it’s interweaving labyrinthine schemes rank high on the things that reminds me so much of my favorite author and poet, Jorges Luis Borges.

*Sigh*, so little time in this life!

1. The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin
“The book that started it all. Connecticut is not a bad place to live. The people are quite cheery. I’ve been to the town Levin wrote this book in, and it’s still quaint and sleepy. This book presents the wives as they should be, dressed in nice, tight, sexy outfits to please their husbands, not the Bryan Forbes original movie that put them in frumpy Victorian clothes.”
2. The Stepford Wives DVD 1975
“Bryan Forbes’s movie based on Levin’s book. Forbes insisted on his wife Nanette Newman being cast in the movie. Because she did not have the figure to wear tight clothing, wardrobe for the film had to be drastically altered to frumpy housefrau getups to suit her. Ladies, we all know what to wear to bring a smile to our men’s faces. Frocks are not one of them.”
3. Fascinating Womanhood by Helen Andelin
“If you want to be a true Stepford Wife and you can’t afford robotic parts, look no further. This book is the bible for every Stepford Wife. Written by a Mormon as a call to arms against Betty Friedan’s Feminine Mystique, it has hypnotic mantras reaching ecstasy on making your man #1. If there was one book on a desert island to keep, for me it is undoubtedly this.”
4. Man of Steel and Velvet: A Guide to Masculine Development by Aubrey Andelin
“A lesser known book written by the husband of Helen Andelin. This book is the male counterpart to the Fascinating Womanhood. It portrays women as helpless, weak, indecisive creatures that need to be taken charge of by strong willful men. Although it is written for men, there are helpful passages that show an aspiring Stepford Wife what a man wants and expects.”
5. Happy Housewives: I Was a Whining, Miserable, Desperate Housewife–But I Finally Snapped Out of It…You Can, Too! by Darla Shine
“Darla Shine gives a roadmap for the overworked working woman to re-discover her inner domestic goddess self. You will find advice all over the internet on excelling and streamlining your domestic chores. But you have it all here in one book.”
6. Essentially Lilly: A Guide to Colorful Entertaining by Lilly Pulitzer
“You can be the most accommodating Stepford Wife but you still won’t earn the title until you do it with a smile. Lily Pulitzer, who believes in social grace and the inviting cheeriness of the good life, gives the Etiquette book a new spin here with recipes, annecdotes, and of course, lots of her trademark preppy pink and green.”
7. The Total Woman by Marabel Morgan
“Marabel Morgan highlights one of the oft overlooked criteria of a Stepford Wife: Explosive, good, high-quality, non-stop SEX on demand. She elaborates on spicing up your sex appeal, making your hubby want to come home at the end of the day, and the importance of a diverse roster that includes role-play. All versions of Stepford Wives (in book and movie) portray them with meteoric ability to satisfy and fortify their men’s sexual prowess.”
8. The Way We Never Were: American Families and the Nostalgia Trap by Stephanie Coontz
“The idea of the Stepford Wife was ultimately born in 1950s, when men were returning from war, graduated with degrees from the GI bill and they needed jobs. So television and magazines convinced women that giving up the jobs (they were trained and capable of doing during the war), returning to the home, pleasing their husbands, was the right decision. Coontz’s book surveys this phenomenon.”
9. To Hell with All That: Loving and Loathing Our Inner Housewife by Caitlin Flanagan
“A writer in the New Yorker magazine, Flanagan reveres the 1950s as pre-feminist times. Some interesting observations and quotations that will assist you in becoming a Stepford Wife. Just remember that Flanagan has a maid in real life, so don’t be surprised when housework seems romanticized here.”
10. The Leave It to Beaver Guide to Life: Wholesome Wisdom from the Cleavers by Jennifer Colella
“A guide from the Beavers of Leave it to Beaver. June Cleaver - almost as much a descriptive noun as the Stepford Wife, can clean house, look after kids, and stand by Ward, all while wearing a New Look all white outfit with a pretty bowtie.”

Click on the Picture to go to 5 more new pictures in my Photo Gallery

The genre of Futanari comics shares all the same features as its Japanese cousins Manga and Hentai: it has characters that can spasm into dish network-sized eyes and Hindenburg shaped mouths, office women and schoolteachers who can’t seem to focus on their tasks, and skirts that are way too short. But Futanari has one thing extra.

I’m always befuddled by how the Japanese, with their polite and courteous public face has pulp entertainment that far exceeds their Western equivalent. I mean we have Bettie Page and Nutrix, but how long ago was that?

The Japanese, the same folks who put pixelated (formerly black ovals) over all private parts in printed matter, look down on the slightest faux pas in social exchanges. My question then is, where are the people who are reading this stuff.

We may never know.

I guess like the barrier that hides, what we don’t see can only assist in running our imagination amok.

This week’s bonus: One Easter Egg in the Photo Gallery.

Here’s a question for all transgender people. When you recount your youth to friends, do you use a male or female pronoun? (Opposite of what you are aiming to be presently). So for mtf transgender people, would you say, “When I was a teenager, my friends tell everyone ‘don’t mind him, he just has his head under the hood all the time because he’s forever trying to get his 440 Big Block sleeper on the road.’”

I use the above situation to illustrate the difficulty of the scenario when the topic is about something that is traditionally associated with boys.

There’s a tad of untruthfulness if you substitute the feminine pronoun for a male, since for many of us, the moment of realization (or what Carson McCullers calls a moment of “illumination”) may have very well come a little later.

To a certain degree, this almost becomes a post-structural debate over the old chicken-and-egg question. Combined that with the notion that successful transgender assimilation means surrendering the old identity.

I guess we could always use what a friend suggested, “a birl.

How does a girl solve this problem? Whatever it is, it pays to plan ahead.

Sharon Hudoklin as Pam in Al Mitchel’s Sin Magazine
It was only recently when I talked to my guy Bob that I realized the strange and irrational fetish for the British accent only exists in American girls. There is the hilarious scene in Love Actually where a Brit boy, getting no action in London, follows his friend’s advice and come to America. Upon touchdown, he heads for the local bar, runs his pie-hole for five seconds, and gets instantly proposed and taken home by two hottie American gals, only to find a third for an All-American four way.

On the other hand, most American men are not that easily impressed. They know that dead fish hand-shake all too well. What troubles me more is the fact that mediocre Brits cling on to their accents to find an inroad to American success. Sound insane? Just go to bbc.com and enter the “British accent” and “America” as a search string, and see what you come up with. The cousins across the pond definitely trade notes on how to flatten their “r’s” in order to get promoted Stateside.

But the British people’s obsession with their accents isn’t solely confined to the science of making American girls drop their skirts. They use it to tag the speaker’s class distinctions and regional origins everyday, determining a Liverpudian from a Gloucester native. Even George Bernard Shaw once famously claimed to be able to place someone within two blocks of their childhood just from their speech.

If you ask me, posh American accent sounds infinitely more dulcet than anything that can emanate from Gielgud to Olivier. How does posh American accent sound like? It’s not John F. Kennedy or Niles Crane. God no. If you want to hear the most wonderful American accent, you’d have to go to one-movie wonder Sharon Hudoklin, ironically, in the 60’s exploitation grindhouse flick Sin Magazine.

Hudokin plays Pam, a New England wife who gives up the good life to go and live with Ross, in a farm. She missed the life of luxury but finds solace in a bottle. The movie is a cut-rate Bergman attempt, but Hudoklin shines with her polished speech. One wonders whatever happened to her acting career.

above: picture of Asheville from Western North Carolina Film Commission www.WNCFILM.net
I’ve had two close friends moved to Asheville a few years ago. They swear I should already be there, though the bible belt vicinity on the map may appear a little odd. People who know me know I am the pH-test for acceptance anywhere I go. If bystanders don’t bat an eyelash, then a town gets a 10 rating. (example: The Pines in the Fire Island got a 9 rating. New Orleans got a 7. Milan, Italy….9.5)

I’ve been to Asheville before and it seems quite easy-going….as most Southern towns appear to be. Okay, until I wear my superlow hip-hugger jeans. Then the women just want me dead, and their men just want my number.

Now, not only is Asheville a hotspot for devout vegeterians and lovers of vegan fare, it is also quite accepting of all the “fringe” cultures. I daresay it’s the next Athens, GA….even though Athens seemed a tad sleepy for my tastes. But when a local church holds an event for transgender people….well, that’s almost as unheard of as New Yorkers being health-conscious and wearing bright-colored clothing!

Here is an article about the local church in Asheville doing a program called “Transcendence.” A program with documentary clips about being transgendered.

Asheville’s transgender community speaks.

For those in Asheville, you will already know about the website Out In Asheville

So what are you waiting for? Pack up your soy cheese and move on out there already!

I was just thinking the other day how I was such a plain jane. But then I started to think about the three Jane’s. G.I. Jane (with which Demi Moore used to plunged her career to a speedy death) and Tarzan’s Jane. And there’s the tried-and-true Plain Jane. Of course, there’s also Jane Pratt, who created Jane Magazine, but fifty years is an awful long time to have only three Janes to go by.

One would think there’d be a proliferation of updated Jane’s to identify with.

How about:
Blogosphere Jane - crams 5,351,499 entries onto one page, invariably crashing anyone’s computer when he or she tries to access her site. Nobody really knows what she thinks (since nobody has ever read her site) but they do know it’s a good source for Lindsay Lohan pictures, updated usually on Friday night.

Troll Jane - patrolling the internet to start endless threaded arguments on excruciating minutiae that nobody cares about. Troll Jane always needs to have the last say on every topic in existence.

LOL Jane - somebody who incessantly pads their chat conversations and emails with LOL even when there’s no reason to laugh. (eg. “Your beloved mother just passed away? I wished mine would too. LOL!)

Starbucks Jane - a person who drags their laptop to a hip coffee shop to work on their screenplay, hoping to look intellectual and score a hottie at the same time. Starbucks Jane acquires a man on one side to balance out her coffee that is always in the other hand when she goes about town doing the smallest tasks.

GWUMCS Jane - Gangsta White Upper Class Suburbia Jane, who flashes gangsta signs on the webcam, twisting a pouty lip expression, all because of that rap mp3 on her I-Phone.

D332 Jane - a person who posts unnecessary quantities of self-portraits on their website for no apparent reason, but look like a cross between a young Abe Vigoda and an old Buddy Ebsen when you finally meet her in person.

There, that ought to do it.

Well, here’s more snaps from the new improved Photoshop CS3. Very little retouching here, now that I’ve gotten that old fire detector out of the way!

When I was growing up, my favorite record to check out from the library was a record pressed by Philips called The Gregorian Chants of the Benedictine Mons of the Abbey of Saint-Mauries & Saint Maur, Clervaux. Every time I checked out that record, I looked at the library card and it had my name in a neat column all the way up to the top. In those days, whenever I went to Tower Records on Broadway NYC, I’d keep an eye out for the compact disc release of this title.

Eventually, it did come out. But my favorite track Resurrexi-Domine, probasti me was missing. I knew that Philips had the entire master recording from this abbey. So I started a letter writing campaign, declaring that they would be doing devotees of Gregorian Chants a great disservice by holding any additional recordings from these sessions in their vault.

Half a year later, the complete collection came out in a two disc set. I grabbed it immediately and Philips became my favorite brand across the board. And now this!

Elisha Cuthbert meeting the parents of Matt (Emile Hirsch) in 2004’s The Girl Next Door

FHM published their 100 sexiest women recently. It’s not something I profess to understand. I browse through the entire list of girls and only found a tiny handful that I thought came close to what I would consider sexy. But I guess I’m not exactly the best authority on this selection.

My list from the FHM’s 100 is only five:
4.Elisha Cuthbert - best scene is 2004’s Girl Next Door where she makes out with the protagonist’s mom and dad in the living room. That’s sexy.

28.Keira Knightly - Not exactly up to the “expectations” of American males, but I think she’s quite attractive in certain angles. She’s more sweet than sexy.

47. Alessandra Ambrosio - I’ve always thought Alexandra Ambrosio was attractive, even before she became a Victoria Secret model. When she was a young wispy thing on the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. Her voice on the Hummer Commercial sounds not unlike Barry White’s, but who in the world cares when you are pretty?

69. Christina Ricci - I could have sworn she had her head shrunk. But whatever Christina Ricci is doing, she looks more F-A-B-U then ever.

63. Grace Park - never seen anything she has done, but she does look quite hot.

I can almost see Megan Fox making no.1 But I never understood tattoos on girls. Seems like the biggest turn-off when seen on the smooth feminine form.

But what about the new improved Taylor Swift?

1.Megan Fox
2.Jessica Biel
3.Jessica Alba
4.Elisha Cuthbert
5.Scarlett Johansson
6.Emmanuelle Chriqui
7.Hilary Duff
8.Tricia Helfer
9.Blake Lively
10.Kate Beckinsale
11.Hayden Panettiere
12.Angelina Jolie
13.Eva Mendes
14.Rihanna
15.Erica Durance
16.Lindsay Lohan
17.Kim Kardashian
18.Cameron Diaz
19.Ali Larter
20.Beyonce Knowles
21.Kaley Cuoco
22.Heidi Klum
23.Sienna Miller
24.Kristen Bell
25.Natalie Portman
26.Vanessa Hudgens
27.Selita Ebanks
28.Keira Knightly
29.Maria Sharapova
30.Rachel Bilson
31.Gisele Bündchen
32.Kate Bosworth
33.Halle Berry
34.Carmen Electra
35.Jessica Simpson
36.Adriana Lima
37.Evangeline Lilly
38.Katherine McPhee
39.Christina Aguilera
40.Cheryl Burke
41.Kristin Kreuk
42.Jennifer Aniston
43.Charlize Theron
44.Heidi Montag
45.Anna Faris
46.Shannon Elizabeth
47.Alessandra Ambrosio
48.Mayra Veronica
49.Katherine Heigl
50.Keeley Hazell
51.Anne Hathaway
52.Jenny McCarthy
53.Marisa Miller
54.Kate Hudson
55.Shakira
56.Tara Reid
57.Jennifer Love-Hewitt
58.Cassie Ventura
59.Eva Longoria
60.Fergie
61.Ellen Page
62.Nicole Scherzinger
63.Grace Park
64.Stacy Keibler
65.Katie Holmes
66.Leeann Tweeden
67.Liv Tyler
68.Kari Byron
69.Christina Ricci
70.Mischa Barton
71.Amanda Beard
72.Elizabeth Banks
73.Carrie Underwood
74.Kelly Hu
75.Pam Anderson
76.Rachelle Leah
77.Paris Hilton
78.Karina Smirnoff
79.Christine Lakin
80.Audrina Patridge
81.Mila Kunis
82.Alyssa Milano
83.Jenna Fischer
84.Maria Kanellis
85.Olivia Munn
86.Reese Witherspoon
87.Madonna
88.Shamron Moore
89.Rachel McAdams
90.Summer Glau
91.Ashley Collette
92.Maggie Gyllenhaal
93.Whitney Able
94.Olga Kurylenko
95.Lauren Conrad
96.Carmit Bachar
97.Amber Heard
98.The Olly Girls
99.Victoria Beckham
100.Britney Spears

One cannot fully comprehend the atrocities committed against the sensibilities of an aesthete until one is exposed to the architectural crime known as the McMansion. These are essentially oversized, garishly designed mega-homes made to dwarf surrounding houses, much the same way that SUV’s are driven to make other drivers feel like ….less of a driver(?).

It cannot be said enough times: If you have the money, what in the world are you doing in a neighborhood of cape cods, ranch homes, and lantern-holding jockeys?

In order to understand the phenomenon known as the McMansion, you have to first recognize the feeding frenzy of aspired affluence. With the industrial revolution and ready-to-wear couture, the “almost-haves” wear out their credit cards attempting to acquire all the peripheral trimmings of the haves.

Nevertheless, there’s always that self-consciousness. Look at Ralph Lauren’s Pink Pony line: It has the trappings of the recently washed masses, posturing with a “look at me! look at me! I’m with Ralph!” overstated at 120 dB.

The high style of fashion, once blazed by the likes of C.Z., Edie, and Isabella is all but gone.

One of the articles I have been pondering this whole year is a 1994 piece written by Cathy Horyn in U.S. Vogue Magazine. In the article High Visibility, she states “High society no longer brings anything of value to the evolution of style. Ralph Lauren appropriated all the old WASP symbols, so now anyone who wears Oxford shirts and velvet loafers can look like an Old Boy. All the new-money society figures of the eighties are passé; you don’t need a chastened socialite to tell you that understatement is in. The new styles that have emerged over the past few years have all come from the netherworld of club life.”

And that’s how I feel about McMansions. Credit must be given where credit was utilized to emulate old money. Mansions used to be big because it needed the space to house all the help that went into keeping the real mansions running. New McMansions have a small electronic organizer or appliance in each oversized room.

Somewhere out there, old money is laughing all the way to the bank while their RL and ANF stocks soar, and they shop at some no name New England boutique.

Well, as promised…before the week is up. The photo gallery is officially caught up to date. From here on in, it’ll be all new stuff.

Here we are. As promised. More pictures, daily updates, and I’ll get my gallery together before the week is over. You can count on it!

I absolutely adore this line from Ginia Bellafante’s article in the New York Times on June 1 2004 “Dressing the Post-Feminist Stepford Wife”

That the affluent homemaker’s uniform remains so compelling may have something to do with its undercurrent of eroticism, one that stems from a sense that the woman wearing it is a woman owned. ”Inside that presexual-looking girl in her lime-green twin set is that fully grown woman to whom only her husband has access,” said Eric Mendelsohn, a filmmaker, former costumer and professor of film at Columbia. ”When do these women look like fully realized sexual beings? When they are in private with their husbands.”

It should be noted that in Japanese culture, the presence of a prohibitive barrier only adds to the erotic charge. Many outsiders will view the black disk of censorship (currently pixellated screen) which is placed over the private parts in photographs as am unwelcomed nuisance. Not so for the Japanese.

That which is shielded actually adds to the erotic imagination. This makes sense when you look at the history of kimono design. To cover is to add to the sexual mystery.

In these modern times, when people go to the supermarket in Daisy dukes and a wet-t-shirt, that which is available to the imagination is a rare and precious item.

I have updated my RSS Feed, so if you guys have a newsreader, you can simply do a search and type in “www.d332.com” and you’ll instantly subscribe to all the updates from this page. I am going to do it every day, so there’s no lag. I can’t promise it’ll be pictures every day, because I believe in quality over quantity. But I can promise they’ll be daily updates, and more pictures.

Above is a picture of me in 2003. One of my all time favorites from all the pics in my gallery. Nothing’s changed that much, except technology. What used to be a grainy 1.8 megapixel shot has been updated here today, courtesy of Photoshop CS3.

I know I know, people have been asking about the updated gallery. I’ll get to that before this week is up.

Promise!

above: Suzuka Ohgo as Chiyo

As part of my stress test to watch all the movies I formally vowed never to watch, I proceded to Memoirs of A Geisha.

Oh dear. Where to begin? I watched the movie, all of the DVD extras on Disk 2, I read the opposing Amazon reviews, and also the original Arthur Golden book. Since every like/dislike under the sun seem already to have been voiced here, I will stay away from repeating and becoming a statistic.

Three things you should know before you begin criticizing this movie. 1) The creators repeated several times in the DVD Extra Disk 2 that their movie is an impression, not a documentary. 2)This is an American movie made in Hollywood. 3) This is a movie based on a book written by a Caucasian writer based on his interviews with a geishas, one of which was Iwasaki Mineko, who went on to write her own account called A Life (because she felt Golden had twisted the real story too much).

Ok. Item 1. I found the DVD Disk 2 more entertaining than the movie itself, because it put the movie next to historical archives. It was the creators’ way, I felt, of giving the actual historical facts some airtime. Watching DVD Disk 2 will help straighten out many of the arguments presented here in the Amazon reviews. The creators of MOAG did consult Liza Dalby, an author herself of several books on Geishas and Japanese kimonos. So if they wanted to, they could have devoted a large percentage of their resources towards getting the historical details fairly accurate. However, the creators stressed several times that MOAG was an impression, not a documentary. This impressionistic license means that the architecture, the kimonos, the Geisha life, dance, routine, hair, makeup are all based loosely on the actual facts. The set designer (a Hollywood set designer) went to Japan for a few weeks and distilled a little bit from one building, and some more from another, and threw it all together in a (con)fusion of anachronistic and cross-cultural impressionistic town sitting in the backlot of a California town. The costume maker, another non-Japanese who does not specialize in kimonos, did some research and started churning out a kimono every few weeks (where the real one takes a year and cost what an average Japanese man might make working full time for a year). Rob Marshall, the director of Chicago (and dancer/choreographer by profession) jazzes up the Geisha dance routine, requests that his version of the Geisha is presented as “supermodels of their day.” The silhouette of MOAG’s geishas are almost wasp-waisted, where the actual Geishas of that time emphasized cylindrical form in their kimono profile.

Japanophiles and Japanese people will undoubtedly scream murder, and they have the right to. However, if you keep in mind that MOAG is the product of the Western imagination, you will be able to watch the movie as entertainment. It would have been nice if they got the details spot on, but I doubt it will make the mainstream audience love it more.

Item 2. This is an American movie made in Hollywood, produced by Steven Spielberg. People who have watched Wim Wenders’s documentary Room 666 (where famous directors are asked about the future of cinema) will remember a long list of non-American directors carrying on about technology, craft, and the art of moviemaking, only to be followed by Spielberg, who sounded like an accountant whose primary concern was the bottom line. He talked about financing, funds, box office returns, and then he talked some more about money. Nothing wrong with that, but it explains the decisions they made for MOAG. You could make a movie with authentic Japanese actors speaking Japanese, with Shakuhachi, koto, and shamisen laden soundtrack, and get consultation from everyone from the Learning Channel to the History Channel. But on oepning night, the cinema will have only a handful of seats occupied by stuffy academics and bookworms. Instead, take John Williams’s music, throw in Itzhak Perlman, Yo-Yo Ma, then use all the biggest recognizable Asian actors in America, make it pretty, and pace it for American consumption. What do you get? Academy awards, money in the bank, and most importantly, thousands of people with newly whetted appetites who want to learn more about Japanese culture. The ones who have the consicentiousness to research further, will eventually obtain the accurate details anyway.

I’m not saying