Maybe They Just Don't WANT to Know

I was listening to a news talk show this morning while getting dressed and the host was talking about how many Americans still hold so many misconceptions about Barack Obama...can I tell you how excited I am to see his speech tonight?...despite all the campaign appearances and news coverage that he's received over the last two years. They include such ignorant falsehoods as he wasn't born in America...he couldn't be President if he wasn't, you IDIOTS!...that he's a Muslim, blah, blah, blah. She even had the gall to say the fact that she, as a member of the media, was repeating these false perceptions help fortify them...then don't repeat them! She went on to ask the guest what does Obama "have to do" to show people "who he really is."

At that point, I realized something. There are a bunch of people who just don't want to get to know him. Either because they are still boo-hooing over Hilary...don't get me started on them. I swear, if McCain wins, I'm not blaming Nader, I'm blaming those weepy losers who couldn't see past their own boobs to vote for the person who has the most in common with Hilary (except for race, of course. Ay, there's the rub)...or because they are Republican, or because...drum roll, please...Obama just doesn't look like them so therefore he must not have anything in common with them. These are the people who will die thinking the Democrats were able to find a loophole in the Constitution and nominate a Muslim from Kenya.

The answer to the host's question is: there is nothing he can do because there are people who simply don't want to get to know a Black man. God forbid their tightly-held, yet incredibly fragile assumptions about other races get shot to pieces. Whom, oh whom, will they blame their problems on? Themselves?...don't be silly!

One of The Most Important Plays Ever Written

The Women is being remade. I saw the first commercial for it tonight. It took me a minute to recognize it, but it is indeed a remake of the 1936 play, which was first turned into a movie in 1939. The playwright was Clare Booth Luce, a fascinating woman. She was a New York society woman who also happened to be a successful writer and serve in Congress. You should read Rage for Fame.

Why is this play important? Because, when done correctly...don't see "The Opposite Sex", its cast is made up entirely of women. Sure, the majority of the plot revolves around men, but you never see or hear one man in the entire play/movie. For any Broadway show or Hollywood flick, that is incredible. And now, just as in 1939, the movie stars some top notch talent...except Eva Mendes. How the hell did she get this part? For this most recent iteration, every actor that gets billing in this movie is a woman. That's so cool to me.

This is not the most PC movie in the world, and I'm sure Diane English...the creator of "Murphy Brown"...will modernize it a lot, but when done correctly, it is witty and smart. I can't wait to see it.

I Have Nothing to Say...Except This

It's been a while since I've been here; it's because I really don't have anything to say. I mean, I always have a lot to say, but for some reason I don't feel any of it is important enough to log in, go to a new post screen, type it out, re-read and edit it, apply the appropriate labels, and publish it. I haven't been lazy this summer...in fact I've been the complete opposite of lazy...but for some reason, I can't get my act together to post on this blog.

I guess I can tell you that I move into my new apartment this weekend. I've been a house guest/sitter for my friend this summer. It's been great to live rent free for two and a half months, but I'm really looking forward to having my own space...with a roommate.

I have been thinking a lot about moving and its significance. Four years ago, a move was just a move. It meant rent got too expensive, or I was living in a different city. It actually wasn't a big deal. I learned how to start early, clean out clutter, pack everything up without having to buy boxes.

But then I moved into Ex's place. And I moved out of Ex's place and into my own owned apartment. Then TM moved in with me and we moved to Boston together. Moves started to mean something. They meant the creation or destruction of a home, sometimes both simultaneously.

Now moving is back to just moving again. It's a logistical necessity, nothing more.

That is a bit sad. Eh...what are you going to do?