Dec 4, 2008

Inappropriate

See full size image









As a Christmas present for my parental units, I thought that I might look into purchasing a couple of tickets to see Tina Turner live, as they about lost their marbles last time they saw her live and on tour-- as opposed to dead and on tour, which is entirely plausible since James Brown's family took it upon themselves to make it so damn trendy.

Anyway, the folks were particularly impressed by the energetic sass and bottomless stamina that Tina had sported throughout the entire performance despite her advanced age. Now, keep in mind that this particular tour took place a handful of years ago, so imagine how impressed they'll be to see her strutting about the stage at age 69!

So I logged onto Ticketmaster and everything was going just fine and dandy until I was prompted for word verification; to read and re-type the two fuzzy words that appeared upon the screen before me for security purposes.

Those two words were: beaten well

No, I am not kidding.
I'm just sayin', highly inappropriate.

jenji

Nov 17, 2008

Or So I'm Told

Poppies will make her sleep. Sleep...










An unruly, paradoxical sleep fervently disagrees.

jenji

Oct 29, 2008

An Example

I currently have a neighbor who has become extremely nosey and entirely disrespectful of all social boundaries. She is extraordinarily detached and somewhat delusional or what some might call: batty.

Some of these interactions simply need to be seen/heard/read (yes, read) to be believed, as describing them leaves you at a literal loss for words.

So, as she continues to act up, I frequently struggle to convey various interactions to friends and family as best I can, wherein they naturally will ask me: batty? what do you mean batty? can you give me an example of just how batty she is?

And then it occurred to me...



Batty. Minus the eccentric flare, intrigue and talent.

jenji

Sep 13, 2008

Foolishness vs Fortitude

What should Mike Bettes do?

He should:

1. Immediately have his head examined, as he exhibits the sheer stupidity and mindless conformity required to risk one's life for the sake of gratuitous sensationalism and 24-hour news.

OR

2. Make an urgent request for a significant raise in pay on behalf of his selfless dedication and vigilant presentation of the current condition for the hundreds of thousands of viewers who may stand in the path of Ike, despite the fact that most have long ago fled and/or cannot access television due to widespread power outages.

Then again, w(h)e[a]ther (apologies) or not he's in immediate danger, he's a weatherman, that's what they do--weather the weather (my sincerest apologies).

My favorite moment of the clip: "Hold on!"



On the other hand, I'm more than sure that Geraldo Rivera simply needs his head examined for taking on what he might call "that dastardly, dastardly Hurricane Ike."

Come on Geraldo, this ain't The Klan, man. And don't worry, your hair looks terrific; just imagine yourself standing in a pool of creamy cappuccino instead of a frothy fusion of bacteria, decay, sewage and seawater.

jenji

Aug 25, 2008

Precipitation Consideration

They said it would rain Sunday. In fact, they predicted it.

Personally, I knew it would rain wherein I made a concerted effort to check the Doppler radar for meteorlogical advisement Sunday morning, as I could sense that the swelling, bucking and heaving within my bones was indicative of stormy weather; my personal body barometer if you will. Those who have cracked a couple of bones in their neck, a few more in their arm and one in their knee, which by the way only proves to piss off a systemic condition in the end, might be able to relate to this
osteopathic, predictive pinging.

Still there were other individuals who knew it would rain as well. In fact, a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless in an effort to protect the brilliant) intentionally opted for the bus over her bike for just that reason; milling around, slathered in SPF 50, waiting to be rescued by public transportation.

However, another friend of mine (who shall remain nameless in an effort to protect the innocent), insisted that it was in fact not going to rain yesterday. Insisted, I tell you.

If only I had wagered some cash regarding that prediction.

Here's the thing: For the most part, I'm not the type of individual who has an imperious need to argue my point when I'm already more than sure that I'm right; that type of give and take just doesn't interest me. However, I am totally the type of individual who would expand upon it in an obnoxious, passive-aggressive blog post in order to prove my previous point in the end.

Now, whether or not this friend pissed off Mother Nature with his/her obvious snub is still up for debate... ...sort of.

Okay, not really. He/She totally pissed her off and now evidence of her wrath is pooling in my front yard among a gaggle of hillbillies. Thanks a lot
anonymous friend whose name may or may not rhyme with Gallison! Sheesh.

Exhibit A
a shot of the street from jenji's driveway









Exhibit B
jenji's redneck neighbors frolic as the water begins to recede








Exhibit C
stupidity is clearly contagious








I'm just sayin', they said it would rain yesterday and they were right.

jenji

Aug 10, 2008

Dichotomy, Surrounding







a jenji photo


Daddy? What's that?

-Why that's a rainbow.

No, that with the smoke coming out.

-Pay no mind to the mess below the rainbow, look at the beautiful birdhouse.

...yeah, but...

Birdhouse mister!

jenji

Jul 23, 2008

Nocturnal Final







What can one say about a sleep study?

It is:

Boring.

Sticky.


Boring.

Gooey.

Boring.

Binding.

Boring.


Constricting.

Boring.

Interesting, in a --mind-numbing, you really want me to sleep now (?)-- kind of way.

Boring.

Ambitious in a --no really, you actually want me to sleep now (.)--kind of way.

Boring.

Unrealistic in that they lost the remote to the TV thereby forcing me to face and address the closed circuit camera as if it were in fact an actual human being with the following:

"Vanessa?"

"Yes, jenji"

"Could you please come and change the channel again? It's stuck on the WWF"

"Sure jenji, no problem"

Boring.

Challenging, in a --how am I supposed to go to the loo whilst hooked up like a cryogenic cyborg (?)-- kind of way.

Boring.

Surprisingly efficient, in that the technician attached well over 25 electrodes in under 45 minutes.

Boring.

Ironic, in that I nearly dozed off several times whilst sitting upright in a chair as said electrodes were being attached.

Boring.

Intuitive, in that the first technician greeted me and immediately said, "oh honey, you look like you're ready for a sleep study."


oh and did I mention, categorically and undeniably b-o-r-i-n-g!?

It was a snooze fest. Or not.
Apologies.

jenji

*image: "Sleep" by Salvador Dali

Jul 2, 2008

Cheese With Your Whine?

Air travel.

I can appreciate the invention of the airplane, the discovery of flight and the astonishing capabilities of transcontinental air travel. Really, I can.

Even though my fundamental understanding of all that is mechanically aerodynamic can barely navigate about the blueprints of a paper airplane, the concept of the airplane as a means for travel remains brilliant—the execution and efficiency of said travel, not so much. However, my intent is not to analyze the imprudent, conspiratorial abuse that the airlines so ardently bestow upon us as Americans. I know you’re disappointed and I truly apologize—although said analysis is on its way.

Instead I would like to address a specific perquisite, an aroma if you will, related to airline travel:

Feet.

For those who have traveled via overpriced, overbooked airline, I would dare say that many would perhaps agree that the best word to describe the eternal funk and stink that one encounters whilst encapsulated at 30,000 feet in a pressurized fuselage—whose custodial maintenance by they way is in a perpetual state of bacteriostatic denial—is feet.

Recently, on USAir flights out of Philadelphia and LaGuardia I was suddenly overcome by the stagnant, overwhelmingly cheesy stench of feet; of athletic jock feet, pantyhose feet, 15-hour work day feet, Frito Lays Corn Chip feet, airport layover feet, geriatric feet, pediatric feet, toddler and tween feet, the what’s this between my toes feet, frat boy feet, flip-flop feet, hammer-toed feet, corned feet, internationally jetlagged feet, hot foot puddle feet, barefoot sneaker feet, the corked Martha Betti side buckle clog feet, clubbed feet, pigeon toed feet, webbed toe feet, hairy toed feet, waxed feet, vacation feet, honeymoon feet, armed forces feet, I only own two pairs of socks feet, gnarly feet, fancy pedicure feet, fat feet, bony anorexic feet, calloused feet, planters wart feet, get off my feet feet, hippy feet, rules aren’t made for me feet, what the fuck did I step in feet, dime bag in my sneaker feet, spoiled Heiress traveling the world and her miniature Chihuahua’s feet, blistered theme park feet, the sweaty aerophobic, aviatophobic, pteromerhanophobic fear of flying feet, dry flaking psoriasis feet, diabetic feet, arthritic feet, bloated airport buffet feet, dancer feet, professional, blue collar, student, unemployed and disabled feet, the I just ate garlic pasta feet, the booze is seeping from my pores alcoholic feet, the airport pre-party feet, the feet that know no bounds feet, bound feet, tattooed feet, bedazzled feet and finally those feet that are literally on the cusp of becoming bona fide six feet under feet in the very near future.

I’m just sayin, the entire cabin reeks of feet. In fact, it’s nauseating. I realize within the aircraft carpeting resides a literal foot fungal metropolis o funk—a virtual rhinovirus retreat—but can’t the airline somehow make an effort to address the stink, as clearly the removal of nonsensical airport carpeting isn’t on the list of things to do any time soon.

The airline's solution:

The mechanical engineers who are familiar with the intricacies, specifications and challenges of providing comfort within the confines of a speeding, gleaming suppository in the sky (because let’s face it, the airlines are always shoving some sort of hassle up your ass) created and subsequently affixed a user friendly, finger-fondled mechanism above the head of each and every weary passenger, which somehow allows said passenger to individually manipulate the mechanism at their leisure in an effort to somehow re-route, re-circulate, waft and/or blow the offensive hoof smog directly back into one’s own face.

It’s utter brilliance. Probably the same wise guys who chose carpeting as a viable option for aircraft floor decor in the first place.


In addition, I am not yet physically capable of effectively describing and/or expressing the visceral repulsion I have experienced regarding this lil' $613 round trip gem without literally gagging.
<---$613 Lil Gem

In the interim, I invite you all to create a caption for this photo, as the pre-board sweep failed to somehow tactfully remedy this situation.

jenji

Jun 16, 2008

Apocalypse

Meteorological Revelation Monday























*storm aftermath at jenji's house

Incidentally, I will be taking donations so that I may somehow re-install and/or rebuild Harold's lower colon and sphincter muscle, as he most certainly blew out his entire--are you fucking kidding me with this shit? ten inch ass gasket--whilst weathering this most recent batch of violent thunderstorms from beneath the safety of the television set; which frankly, isn't so much a safety zone, as it is a lightening rod.

At this point, an expensive, expansive bionic regeneration is his only option and if you're curious as to whether or not the damage applies to the feline's involuntary inner or voluntary outer sphincter, let me say this:

Does it really matter? The gaskets are blown either way.

Your generosity is greatly appreciated.

jenji

*UPDATE:
Harold has asked that I specify that he didn't literally blow out his ten inch ass gasket; it was only metaphorically blown. Therefore, there need not be so many worries about cleaning up cat shadoodle, as there was no cat shadoodle to clean up per se.

Jun 5, 2008

Gratuitious

To whom it may concern:

1. Stop accessorizing my meal with scallions








2. Stop accessorizing my treat with sprinkles
(excluding anything Annie Sprinkle)







I'm just sayin' ...sometimes less is more.
jenji

ps vote in my new poll --->

*photos courtesy of Google Image

May 19, 2008

Perennial State of Sloth

Current Condition:

Well, I've resorted to using a most primitive device—a Bic Ultra pen cap—in an effort to scoop deep down into the gelatinous core of my medicated, desiccated Blistex so that I might somehow thwart a tedious trip to the store, yet still remain faithful to the prevention of nocturnal chapping.

What a lazy toad.
No, not a toad, a sloth.

Eh, if a toad and sloth reproduced you’d get jenji and her current condition.

jenji

**see Jake's rendition of what he has imagined a "Sload" might look like here.

May 3, 2008

The Punctuality of Correspondence

I would like to briefly address yet another item indicative of both the disintegration and degradation of the self-respect, efficiency, common sense and overall decency on the part of the federal faculties of the US Postal Service, as well as the all encompassing current state or might I say, disorderly State of Our Union.

I just received my friend's invitation to her out of town art installation, running February 16th to March 29th, today. Yeah, so I think I won't be making that show. I mean, as an artist, fashionably late can be the norm, but this would just be ridiculous.

Hey postal service? ...late much? I realize many of you have taken to delivering mail in civilian clothes and that's fine, as long as you deliver my mail within oh I dunno, 2-3 weeks of the postmark.

So, what could possibly be the hold-up?

As you might expect I have a theory and you should be informed that the following is a true story.

I would submit that a certain pathologically obsessed mail worker who had previously stalked me and who can only be described as a nonsensical, contradictory cross between a gigantic eunuch and an emboldened hermaphrodite, has in fact resurfaced.

To be more precise, said mail worker is a walking, talking progeny of a genetic misfire involving a kinky, drunken threesome between Hellboy, Alice the Goon and Jabba the Hutt, who was indeed forced into retirement, through a deal she struck with the federal government to avoid confinement for her felonious, federal offenses against me, which only commenced after HellGoonHutt had taken the bait
(literally) of a decoy envelope addressed to me, which secretly had a federal tracking device in it, wherein she was ultimately followed, run-down, cornered and surrounded by 3 undercover vehicles packed with federal agents in the middle of an intersection and consequently arrested for possession of said decoy, where upon opening the trunk they found almost 2 years worth of my mail, while another heaping pile spilled from the glove compartment into the street—

Yes, I would not only submit that this disturbed freak of nature has somehow been reinstated as said mail worker despite her earlier, court-enforced retirement, but in fact bet that she has once again started to glean, hoard and jam both my relevant and irrelevant mail down her size XXX, polyester, federally issued postal trousers (for real, stuffed them down her pants), in an effort to silence, threaten, intimidate, and control me (as if).

Yet, two and a half Presidential terms ago it would have been utter nonsense to realistically consider that such a reinstatement could ever come into logical fruition and therefore, I would like to posit that it is entirely possible in our country’s current, illogical state of oh-no-you-didn't, it-can’t–possibly-be- existence. You know I'm saying?

I mean, this is just a theory, but the back story is true just the same.

In the end I'm just sayin'...US Postal Service....slow much?

jenji

Apr 30, 2008

Screenings

Update:
I've started uploading some of my earlier works onto YouTube. Click on the title of the film to access link.

I hope to share and incorporate some of my film work into this blog by May or June of 2008. Once I finish my current project, I will have more time to devote to this endeavor.

No worries, jenji...rest and relaxation are near...
Until then, I invite to check out these screen captures from some of my pieces.


capture from "Inner Chatter" 16mm b/w reversal film: shot on CP16






























Screen captures from "Ocultarse" 16mm b/w reversal film--
shot on CP-16 camera and video




















Screen capture from "Perpetual Digression" shot on SONY 2100

Apr 17, 2008

Tattle Tale!







and now, we join the debate already in progress...

Sen. Clinton:
...oh yeah, well Senator Obama has stated time and again that he uses Astroglide, when in fact he uses KY Jelly, which I think we would all agree is an elitist product... and he knows it! So...so...so, that makes him a poopie pants!

Sen. Obama:
Oh yeah, well Senator Clinton has repeatedly stated that she uses Mastermind sheen in her hair, when in fact she uses Dumb Blonde and she knows it! So....so....so, that makes her an even bigger poopie pants!

(whispers echo across the audience "Obama hates blondes")

Charlie Gibson:
Senator Obama, do you mean to suggest that Senator Clinton is a dumb blonde?

Sen. Obama:
No, Charlie...Dumb Blonde is a Tigi hair care product.

Charlie:
Huh...that's not written on my profoundly, overproduced list of questions...

(crickets)

Sen. Clinton:
May I respond to that, Charlie? Although I believe Barack to be a good man, he does in fact hate blondes and all women, even black women; and white people; oh, and men, but not black men; and animals, but not black Labradors; and you, Charlie....man, does he ever hate you.

Oh, wait! And he hates the American flag, which means that he hates all Americans, as well as Betsy Ross! So, clearly he is the biggest poopie pants of all time...

George Snuffleupagus:
Huh. Well, my profoundly, overproduced card says to ask about Senator Obama's reluctance regarding the American Fag Sin. So, Senator Obama, is it just American fags that you find sinful or international fags as well?

(whispers across the audience echo "Obama hates American fags who sin")

(George holds an index finger to his ear)
(he chuckles)

I'm sorry Senator, I have just been informed that the question was supposed to read American flag pin. Isn't that just a kick in the pants...can someone bring me my glasses, please?

(meanwhile, the news wires fire up and the viral explosion ensues, 'OBAMA HATES FAGS WHO SIN!')

Charlie:
Senator Obama, Americans have indeed been questioning your allegiance to our flag, as you simply refuse to wear a flag pin upon your lapel. It's quite a hot topic on the Internet. In fact, we have a video of a concerned American for you to see, sir.

(insert YouTube video of rambling imbecile with patriotic pin concerns HERE)

What do you say to those concerned, Senator?

ERROR
*Reply missing because jenji literally wretched out loud upon hearing this question and couldn't hear the reply, as she was busy ranting around the house in an enraged, Hitler'esk manner, however in an effort to encourage the continuity and flow of this blog entry, she decided to apply an answer that was most appropriate for the question.

*Senator Obama:
Well Charlie, I would tell the woman in the video, as well as any American concerned with my allegiance to our country over an absent pin, that they are fuckin morons who need to read a book before their brains begin to drain from their nostrils. I would also like to mention that although I consider Senator Clinton to be a valued friend that I would break bread with, but never donate a kidney to, it is in fact she who hates you, Charlie; and black people; and animals; and South Park; and poor people; and blowjobs--man o man does she ever hate blowjobs.

(whispers echo across the audience "blowjobs blowjobs blowjobs")

(INSERT CONDESCENDING, COPYRIGHTED OBAMA SIGH and SMIRK HERE)

And as we all know Charlie, those who hate blowjobs are THE biggest poopie pants in the whole, wide world--like, ever, EVER!

(a bell rings, which sounds very much like the bell at the slaughter auction)

Charlie:
I'm sorry Senators, but we have run out of time. I suppose the pressing topic of blowjobs will have to wait until the next debate. Until then, goodnight from Pennsylvania.

(Charlie elbows George)
Say goodnight, George.

George:
I can't find my Chapstick.

(Charlie elbows George again)

Charlie:
Say goodnight, George.

George:
Oh, sorry....goodnight, George.

I think we would learn more about these two individuals if they just went on Jeopardy and sparred it out at those podiums. At least we would have some sort of gauge as to their knowledge about anything other than the gossip of the day.

They should both be ashamed of their behavior, while Charlie Gibson and George -it's impossible for me to wear anymore Chapstick than I am currently sporting-- Snuffleupagus should be immediately fired and sign on to anchor Inside Edition.

jenji

Apr 6, 2008

More Artistic Inspiration

I'm a big fan of Nick and Sheila Pye. In fact, I had the pleasure of seeing one of their exhibitions last year, A Life Of Errors, at The Rare Gallery in NYC. I was also fortunate enough to meet them at a speaking engagement in New York a couple of years ago, wherein they welcomed thoughts and questions for about 2 hours and then showed much of their completed works, as well as various works in progress.

This clip is just a snippet of The Paper Wall



There are extraordinarily down to earth, present, open, unpretentious, smug-free and overall, lovely people.

They work within a variety of mediums including still photography, 16mm film and HD. If they are ever in your town I would highly recommend checking them out.


jenji

Apr 5, 2008

Grand Central Station

This is a fantastic piece of work by ImprovEverywhere.



Great performance piece, very creative and inspirational for those of us who are makers.

It reminds me that I can't wait to begin making my own work again. Very soon...June 08.

Detailed schematics are being drawn up for a new piece of work and I'm so eager to begin the collaborative process for this project with a fellow artist for whom I have the highest esteem, regard and respect for.


jenji

Mar 24, 2008

Still relevant...

Suggested training and motivational video (see below) for:

FOX News employees
The Bush Administration
24-hour cable news "journalists"
Ann Coulter's team
Rush Limbaugh's team
Lou Dobbs' team
Tom Cruise
Entertainment Tonight
The Insider
Jena, Louisiana (yes, the entire town, just as a precaution)
Bill O'Reilly's team (see FOX)
an extremist of any flavor

...and all of those nasty, catty, self-righteous men and women that we've all been known to work, encounter, endure, interact and share genetic components with at the INSERT ENVIRONMENT HERE, while we're trying to INSERT OBJECTIVE HERE, yet it becomes increasingly difficult to do so, as some people can be such incredibly huge INSERT PROFANITY HERE!

...you know, those people at that place.



THE SNEETCHES (1961) Seuss

...to see the conclusion of The Sneetches and some still very relevant, Hitler inspired anti-overtones click here

...also, I've posted a new poll in the sidebar. Feel free to vote!

jenji

Mar 18, 2008

Astroglide Hypothesis

Okay, I'm not going to mince words here...

I think I'm going to have to start moisturizing and slathering my entire body with Astroglide whenever I dare breach the confines of my domicile. It's just no longer safe for me to leave the premises otherwise. Will it work? I dunno, it's a hypothesis--you tell me.

Within the past 3 weeks I have managed to get a variety of body parts--my body parts mind you--stuck into, wedged under and jammed between far too many devices and/or contraptions.

Particulars:

1. My arm wedged and stuck underneath, up and behind the flippy door of a vending machine. Oh yeah, right up to the shoulder. Full out, face pressed against the glass. legs flailing helplessly stuck.

My inner dialogue went something like this:

(clink)
"Um...oh. Oh, okay... The Dew is stuck...Eh, I can reach that...I'm so thirsty...it's just hanging...stuck...it's right there...if...I could...
(insert Kama Sutra move for one here)...just...reach ...ow. ow. OW!"
See what I should have done here




<---evidence from Vending Machine Smackdown '08


2. My entire right leg, from groin to ankle, jammed between the door and the wall of my outdoor shed. Oh right, in the middle of a March blizzard, dressed in a head to toe Christmas Story snow suit.

"Hm, the door is broke from the weight of the snow and I need that can of gasoline for the snow blower...sooooo, maybe if I pull on the door really, reallllllllyyyy hard...

(insert popping ocular blood vessels here)

-then I can wedge my leg in the door and...reach...the can...without...ow ow OW!"

reminder





<--me, but significantly more stressed out


3. My right middle finger jammed into plastic vent of Harold's cat carrier. Oh right, while driving.

Complete dialogue of jenji and her cat, Harold:

"Meow."
"Meow. Meow."

"I know Harold, you don't like the car. It's okay, you're okay."

"Meoooooww! Meeeeeooooooooooooowwww!"

"It's okay buddy, we're almost there..."

"Meowwwwwwwwwww, Meooooooooooooow! Meummurfffeowwwskkkkkkhack,"
that's cat for -bitch you better get me outta here or I'm gonna hurl-

"Okay, okay...I hear you Harold, it's okay...MEOW!...it's just the car...no worries...MEOW!
(insert finger into carrier vent for consoling rub under the ol cat chin)
...it's okay...you're...such...a...good...ouch...um...boy...ow ow OW! ...sniff...meow?"

Harold insists that he will walk to and from the vet from now on.





I concur.

So, in an effort to spare my insurance company from having to pay for any sort of future prosthesis, I will test the Astroglide Hypothesis and get back to you; one knuckle at a time.

jenji

Mar 16, 2008

Smoke and Mirrors







As of late, I have seen and heard many individuals, particularly women, ramble on about how angry they are with Silda Spitzer and her so called pathetic, codependent choice to support her husband during the controversy surrounding Mr. Spitzer’s recent, imprudent behavior; or what I have come to call—Seriously Spitzer, Could You Be a Bigger Narcissistic Moron?

To some degree I can understand this critical assessment of Mrs. Spitzer, as I must admit to my own knee jerk reaction upon first seeing her standing catatonic beside Spitzer at the podium. In fact, for a moment I was livid, yet slightly disoriented as to why I would be so quick to judge another's situation, as it’s not normally within my nature to automatically do so, especially under such an extreme and depraved circumstance. So I was puzzled, if not slightly sickened as to my disparaging response.

Seriously, what kind of bug did I have up my ass that day? Although at the time, I must admit that I was riding out some nasty cold medication.

I mean, justifiably our anger and criticism should be directed toward Spitzer himself, but instead we posture aggressively toward Mrs. Spitzer. It is truly astounding how quickly we have taken our eyes off the ball or in this case—off the bald. After all, Eliot Spitzer is the hypocritical, adulterous, self-centered, narcissist who brought shame upon his family, not Silda. He is the aggressor, while Mrs. Spitzer and her three daughters are the victims, right?

So, why is it so easy for us to blame the victim?
As usual, it’s the media.

Upon reflection and in an effort to think outside the media driven box, I came to realize that I wasn’t at all upset with Mrs. Spitzer’s decision, but in fact with the media’s decision to methodically use and thereby assign a most subliminal term—“Standing By Her Man”—as the end all description for Mrs. Spitzer’s response; presentation of said subliminal term is of course complete with gripping graphic and melodramatic music required to further evoke drone like submission from the masses.

24-hour media loves the literal, injudicious picture. They would prefer not to truly think or deliberate, as both waste time, so the quicker to judge, think and/or deliberate (in fact manipulate), the quicker to air; the quicker to air, the higher the ratings; the higher the ratings, the more money they make. It’s a lava lamp of misleading, agenda driven information; hypnotic and painstakingly repetitive as it creates legions of disciples who are addicted and willing to depend upon 24-hour news as their definitive source for deliberative thought.

This tag: “Standing By Her Man," is an irresponsible assumption; a manipulative suggestion, with a rudimentary connotation that is entirely strategic, primitive and discriminatory in nature, while it leaves little room for interpretive discussion and/or deliberation. I mean as a viewer why bother with deliberation? There she is, demure and dutiful in her unassuming blue suit; complete with silk scarf accoutrement. She looks like an accommodating flight attendant: Can I get you a beverage Mr. Spitzer? Would you like a pillow Mr. Spitzer? Hot cloth Mr. Spitzer? The entire scenario is so 1950’s I could gag.

So I ask. Is she really “Standing By Her Man?”

I’m not blind. I mean I see her standing there, demure and seemingly devoted as ever, but is she indeed supporting him?

Hello? I’m talking to you 24-hour news. Did you bother to investigate the situation before smacking this simplistic, suggestive tag upon her response and presence? Surely you have the journalistic capacity to sniff out a reliable source that might offer some insight as to Mrs. Spitzer’s genuine motivation for showing up to this humiliating conference. After all, you hunt down sources to feed your incessant Britney stories; half a million reporters are strategically posted outside of Heath Ledger's loft waiting to get a shot of the velour covered mound (formerly known as Heath) as it/he is wheeled off into the coroner's vehicle. So what gives? Why this sudden, lackadaisical approach?

This tag: “Standing By Her Man," has become tiresome as politician after politician is compelled to believe that they are beyond the moral/legal law and further, entitled to break it: Senator Larry Craig, Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick, Governor James McGreevey and Senator David Vitter just to name a recent few. And guess what? All of their respective wives could be seen “Standing By Her Man,” albeit looking as if they had just thrown up in their mouths a little bit.

But should we be surprised with this rush to tag behavior?

No. As usual, 24-hour news has failed society. It has failed to consider that Mrs. Spitzer’s presence may be indicative of anything other than spousal dedication; that “Standing By Her Man” may not at all be about devotion, but strategy. For all we know she has already hired an assassin to settle all this cheating nonsense—although Silda, I wouldn’t recommend the extermination route, as I’m sure that your husk of a husband is friends and/or plays poker with the majority of NYC hit men, I’m just sayin’.

Yet this 24-hour assessment of what is indeed assumed accurate should be expected, as deliberate manipulation or at least partial omission is a symptom of the sexist, agenda-driven, one-dimensional society that we live in, wherein the news presents what it is we are allowed to see, dictates what it is we are allowed to think and therefore learn about our roles in society. They are corrupt and far from impartial, as they are in bed with cooperate entities, and therefore, riddled with sexism, ageism and racism. As a convenient source for news, 24-hour news takes advantage of their viewers by providing subliminal anti-group-of-the-moment rhetoric, which we (or most of) society will perceive as the valid truth. We don’t even realize that we’re being discriminated against and molded into thoughtless drones; drones who are taught to recognize that a woman should indeed “Stand By Her Man,” no matter the indiscretion because that's what we do. Put on your best 2-piece tweed, accessorize and smile lady because that’s what you do. Rub your feet, Mr. Spitzer? Would you like another blanket, Mr. Spitzer?

So, as I listen to women criticize Mrs. Spitzer’s choice, I think to myself, huh, nice job 24-hour news, you’ve managed to blame the victim and thereby turn women against women, wherein they cannot come together and give Mrs. Spitzer the benefit of doubt, support, or even consider that she may have her own agenda as to why she’s “Standing By Her Man.” It’s a divisive, strategic tactic indeed, meant to keep the masses from thinking, bonding, forming, gathering and revolting against the cooperation and it works like a gem.
To see the true off her rocker jenji rant click here.


Look, I'm sure she has her reasons for standing alongside him at these press conferences, be it religion, her children, whatever. Perhaps she is a passive product of a patriarchal society, I don’t know. I’m not nearly as psychic as Sylvia Browne suggests each one of us might be. My point is that we truly can't predict what it is that Mrs. Spitzer may be feeling and going through during this particular crisis anymore than we might be able to predict her favorite flavor ice cream. However, we might consider that there may be more than one explanation for her behavior; even Neapolitan has three flavors.

So, let's deliberate for a moment.

Here’s a question: Has anyone stopped to consider that Mrs. Spitzer is merely protecting her children who have been emotionally abandoned and traumatized by their father's disgraceful indiscretions? That as a matter of protection she may in fact be determined to keep their world as consistent as possible by postponing the feminist solution—to publicly scorn and vilify their father—as it would only serve to further exacerbate these abandonment issues for her children; is that possible? Could this be a Mama Lion at work?

This is just a theory, but it is entirely plausible that Mrs. Spitzer might be gathering all of her energy to provide a stable constant; a parent that her vulnerable children can actually depend upon and trust.

So what’s the solution, jenji? You must have some sort of alternative title/tag up your sleeve that 24-hour news can implement in an effort to describe her response, one which might somehow remain neutral, while still presenting the situation?

Oh, it’s not a tag at all. The solution is that he/she who has deceived, wandered and/or strayed should be holding these conferences solamente, sans the spousal distraction so that we may then concentrate all of our energy upon the true jackass of the moment.







<---true jackass of the moment


Then I should think the tags would be quite easy to create--literal even. The problem for the 24-hour graphics department is that these tags would constantly change, as do the deceitful aggressors. What a kick in the pants for graphics.

Still, I should think that these tags would read something like this:

Governor Spitzer Will Now Talk Out Of His Ass and Admit Felonious Activities

Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick Admits to Boning His ex Chief-of-Staff


Governor James McGreevey Admits Homosexuality and Buys Property on Fire Island


Senator Larry Craig Admits Incontinence, but Insists That His Bladder Is Not, Nor Has It Ever Been Gay

Senator David Vitter Admits DC Madam Is On His Christmas Wish List


Do you see what I’m saying? Now that’s simplistic and literal! The graphics department can thank me later.

I'm just sayin', take a moment to truly deliberate, to think outside of the media driven box and resist the mesmerizing, hypnotic, 24-hour lava lamp of complacency; consider as many sides of the issue as possible before you harangue and blame the victim. Make an effort to wade through the thick, 24-hour bisque of the day and whether vituperative or supportive in the end at least you’ve taken the time to interact before you react.

A bit of advice for Eliot Spitzer: although Mrs. Spitzer has been victimized she still has the capacity to react as anything other than a victim, for most mothers would agree—betray me and we may be able to work this out, betray my children and you’ll find yourself wishing you had never been born.

jenji

Mar 11, 2008

Rewind

You know what annoys me?

Actors who play retards.

Hold on, don’t get your undapants in a knot—hear me out.

I use the word retard, when in fact I would normally use the term mentally/physically challenged and/or the actual name of a particular condition. Look, I have volunteered with Special Olympics, Meals On Wheels, as well as various other organizations and like most people, I know individuals who are mentally/physically challenged, yet I have never had a single interaction with any of these individuals wherein I walked away and thought to myself, “Wow, what a retard.”

In fact, whenever I hear the word retard I will often think of the actor; the actor whose interpretation and subsequent portrayal of a mentally/physically challenged individual will somehow ironically manage to evoke the thought, “Wow, now that’s a retard!”

So, when an actor signs on to portray the mentally/physically challenged—Down’s Syndrome, Autism, blind, deaf and the lot, as well as those who have been tragically forced to live within the isolated, claustrophobic walls of a giant, plastic bubble—there should be an added proviso within their contract; that in doing so they are thereby automatically eligible to receive a public flogging, as we the viewer will hold the unconditional right to bestow upon said actor should they manage to muck up any plausible depiction of the aforesaid challenged and thereby, through their negligent performance, produce a complete retard.

I believe that a pretentious and opportunistic Hollywood all too often perpetuates and produces this stereotypical retard through their formulaic, melodramatic interpretation of the mentally/physically challenged, which provides a distorted image for the uninformed viewer and fuel for the discriminatory, bigoted viewer.

I don’t mean to imply that all performances are irresponsible, as some are quite accurate, dignified and considerate.

Still some are not necessarily based upon a particular condition, but an amalgam of various conditions. I’m okay with that. As a filmmaker I can appreciate the creativity involved in writing, constructing, becoming and successfully delivering a challenged, complex character.

A few examples--these individuals have been pardoned from said flogging:

Jodie Foster in Nell (but just barely)
Billy Bob Thornton-Sling Blade
Marlee Matlin-Children of a Lesser God (then again, she really is deaf)
Tom Hanks-Forrest Gump
Dustin Hoffman-Rainman (but I never want to see him play a savant again)
Eric Stoltz-Mask (yet I must say that Cher ruined this film for me)
Robert De Niro-Awakenings

To be flogged:

Leonardo Dicaprio-What’s Eating Gilbert Grape
Rosie O’Donnell is highly offensive in Riding The Bus With My Sister

Giovanni Ribisi-The Other Sister
Juliette Lewis-The Other Sister
Ernie Hudson-Hand that Rocks the Cradle
Laura Dern-Mask
Sean Penn-I Am Sam
John Travolta-Boy in the Plastic Bubble (b/c frankly, Travolta isn’t even near as riveting as the real Bubbleboy)

You should know that Kirstie Alley sparked this blog entry through her ridiculous portrayal of a mentally handicapped individual in the Lifetime Original Movie Profoundly Normal, or what I’ve come to call, You Must Be Kidding Me, Kirstie.

Hollywood needs to get over itself; there are plenty of mentally/physically challenged actors available who are capable of representing and portraying the intricacies related to their own conditions.

For example, the actor Max Lewis has Down ‘s Syndrome and portrays the jovial son of a troubled young woman (Cate Blanchett) in Notes On A Scandal, yet the condition does not define his character nor his abilities as an actor; that is, Down’s Syndrome is something he has, not who nor what the character/Max is.








Max and his mother Sandy

When a non-challenged actor portrays the challenged condition it is the challenge that all too often becomes exploited, exaggerated, overanalyzed and gratuitous, wherein the spirit and essence of the challenged human being becomes secondary and superfluous.

We get it Hollywood, you’re diverse—you can be anything you want to be—your talent transcends all logical boundaries; you can drool, drag and limp with great skill and dedication.

But please, enough with the theatrics; stop playing retards and start playing human beings.

Don’t get me started on adult actors who play children.
Yes, I’m talking to you Robin Williams!

jenji

Jan 31, 2008

The Cold Shoulder

Current status:

On the rocks.










Tuesday

jenji

Jan 26, 2008

Arachnid Inn

Current condition










Puzzled, as I don't recall extending an invitation for visitors of the eight-legged kind.

I suppose he/she just wants out of the tundra and into a warm environment, yet I hesitate to admit that it's still so chilly inside that even I tend to wear a ski hat around the house.

Surely if I exterminated her/him there would be a puddle of vanilla puddin' on the floor, yeah?

I invite you all to pick a name for my new friend.

And by friend I mean, that hairy, eight-legged, 400 eyed monster that is undeniably planning a ritualistic esanguination as I sleep.

Wait jenji, don't you have a ferocious cat whose basic instinct would incline him to snap that thing into a million pieces?

Why yes, yes I do.

In fact, here is Harold's official response to the situation:









...I know.

jenji

Jan 19, 2008

Pardon Our Gray Matter






Current Condition:

(beep)

Currently, I am systematically cramming copious amounts of medical, statistical and physiological knowledge and/or jargon into The Ol' Noodle via egregiously overpriced textbooks.

Please leave a message.

(beep)

ps The Sarcophagus of fermented and fermenting, Antediluvian viral scum has finally receded.

jenji

Jan 9, 2008

She asked about Envy...

sometimes envy sparks for those who are afraid to walk...

then again, envy may be evoked in an effort to cripple another's stride

more often than not, envy is an infection; an allergic reaction to proactive energy

the mightier the energy, the more envy will begin to swell, spit and itch

like poison ivy, if one resists the temptation to scratch, the infection may soon heal

however, it may never occur to those who bear its burden, that envy is contagious upon the self

that envy is in fact an insidious infection which spreads from within...

jenji

Jan 8, 2008

Five Minutes of Free Association

Things that trouble annoy and/or infuriate me:

when I misplace my Blistex
when someone else asks to use my Blistex
germs
when Ellen Degeneres does a straddle dance over her set table
those who use the term baby bump to describe pregnancy
those who change that term to belly bump
tabloid television
24-hour cable news
people who look over your shoulder while you’re trying to speak to them
those who talk to others while you’re on the phone with them
those who habitually answer a question with another question
smug people
those with an elitist attitude
Crocs
clicks
when Bill O’Reilly calls someone a pinhead
Bill O’Reilly
the word pig as an insult
those who use malicious comments and/or judgments in an effort to level another
getting up before 11 a.m.
fatigue and exhaustion
arrogance
Andy Rooney
bullies
hypocrisy
malls
shopping
judgmental people
racists without a valid, or what could be perceived as valid, argument
homophobes without personal interaction and/or experience with gay people
Ann Coulter
addiction
children with bubbly boogers
dental visits
sunburn
blisters
relatives who steal from one another
the ringer on my home phone
most reality television
people who change their first name without explanation
friends who constantly bicker in my presence
spouses who constantly bicker in my presence
bickering
cold weather
hot weather
most perfume or cologne
loud noise, sound and/or talking
bright light
hot showers
mayonnaise
those who generalize and/or equate Muslim to terrorist
YouTube (for the most part)
middle-aged white men that “little lady” me
scallions
menstrual cramps
skim milk
overweight women who call me a “skinny bitch” and assume that’s politically acceptable
the fluid that collects on top of cottage cheese
insincerity
distracted and/or disinterested sales clerks
sales clerks who call me sweetie, honey or love
close-minded individuals
miserable people who blame everyone else
those who refuse to look inward in an effort to evolve, understand and better co-exist
no-win situations
stinky, flip-flop feet
people who talk, text or heckle during a film in the movie theater
people who leave their shopping cart in the middle of an aisle
people who don’t say please and thank you
receptionists on a power trip who make it difficult to speak and/or see an actual doctor
condescending people
Barbara Walters
those who assume or make assumptions about what other people are thinking
technical mumbo-jumbo
materialistic people
dishonesty
disloyalty
true narcissists
pop radio djs
dismissive attitudes
when my DVR fails to record
Deal or No Deal
my stamina
soggy floor mats
American Idol
potato bugs
insomnia


Things you may not know about me:

I'm a narcoleptic. (Yes, the insomnia is an ironic paradox)
I’m infamous for my periodic food jags
I’ve been known to cry during musical theater and/or big theatrical productions
I’m detail-oriented
I’m probably not thinking what you think I am
I don’t respect those who don’t respect others
I wore a bedazzled glove to a Michael Jackson concert in the ‘80’s
I love disco music
I often speak to my cat in Spanish (me gusta me gato)
I would love to travel around Europe
I have a cockatiel named Little Man who is in fact a female
Throughout winter I’m usually wearing long underwear beneath my clothes
I’m extraordinarily sensitive
I once administered CPR
The very thought, sight or mention of mayonnaise evokes a physical reaction (gaggin)
I become carsick easily
I posed nude for a Spencer Tunick shoot
I find mowing the lawn therapeuticIf possible, I brush my teeth and floss after every meal and before bed
My grandmother was a dead-ringer for Queen Elizabeth
I find Brits comforting, calming and familiar
I often consider myself ignorant
I'm a team player and enjoy collaboration
I have a soft spot for the elderly
I love ketchup, but cannot tolerate tomatoes
I can be reticent
Sirens and clocks make me nervous
I've always found New Year’s Eve depressing
I keep a pen, journal and flashlight next to my bed for middle of the night reflections
I still watch and enjoy ER
At some point I intend to live on/in Manhattan
I look up and attempt to learn several words/day in the dictionary
I used to go entire weekends without using the bathroom during Girl Scout camp excursions
I still have the stuffed dog (DogDye) I received at the age of 1
I love riding dirtbikes
I’m horrible at remembering names
I’m freakishly accurate with time

time is up.

jenji

Jan 6, 2008

He asked...

What do you think about January 3rd?

For me, January 3rd has always been a wolf in sheep’s clothing; it is deceptive and deceitful, in that it may allow one to perceive the 3rd as the start of all that is new—of resolution, renewal and revival—when in fact it is meant to leave a person in a hesitant and perpetual state of “Wait, what? Wait a second, what?”

That is, the 3rd has a puzzling ability to leave me annually disoriented, disjointed and ultimately disorganized, as I become critically incapable of correctly recognizing the actual day of the week on which the 3rd may fall. You see January 3, 2008 is not a Tuesday, as it has deviously disguised itself as a Thursday in an attempt to muck up my schedule, routine and thereby, the start of any New Year’s resolution.

What follows is a day riddled with incessant inner chatter and a frenetic, sub cranial bickering between three Freudian cellmates that would leave a family of 10 living in a two bedroom apartment to ask, “why can’t they all just get along?”

So, no it's not Tuesday, it's Thursday, which of course means that the following day will be Friday, or what me and the three amigos will surely come to call Wednesday.

And so it goes...
chase yer tail, round and round...
Circadian confetti
barefoot, primal
follow, follow
sniff, sigh
rinse, repeat

jenji

Jan 2, 2008

Stop Sneezing on the Strawberries

Current Condition

Currently I am plagued, encased and encrusted in a Sarcophagus of fermented and fermenting, Antediluvian viral scum; far from ephemeral, it is resilient, restless and resistant to...

Echinasea, Zinc, Ester-C, B-Complex...

...still









...sinus medicine, cold medicine, cough medicine, flu medicine, herbal supplements, cough drops, saltwater, hot tea, hot baths, heated sheets, orange juice and roll upon roll of the poor man's Kleenex...

...still




*actual color of mucous unavailable



There are far worse ailments from which one may suffer...








...incurable and insidious...








...but still
stop sneezing on the strawberries.

jenji