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fahrenheit 9/11*

*Whatever, so it's a tired topic. Cut me some slack. At least I posted something for once.

Well, my first thought going into the film was, "Why is this cop outside the screen?" followed closely by the second, "Am I in danger?!" I texted a final farewell to a friend just in case, and proceeded inside.

I guess it's worth mentioning that I didn't go in expecting to see the most concise, blistering and inarguable case against the Bush administration ever. I'd read the raves, of course, but also a few criticisms of the film - not knee-jerk temper tantrums, but statements of plausible reservations - and I'd read and appreciated Stan's take on the film, the premiere of which he got to see back at the beginning of June, and along with my admiration I have certain reservations about Michael Moore myself. I wouldn't say that I'd made my judgments before going in, just that I was prepared for anything.

I also might as well note that I saw Moore on the Daily Show saying that no way, the film's not fair, and I liked his candor, and I'll let him have the first and last word in that debate.

My most enthusiastic applause goes to the footage itself. To the extent that I hold Moore in high regard, it's because of the footage he captures. "Something resembling jello," as Stan put it, is a pretty good description of how I felt listening to a soldier's last letter home. (I even shed a single tear and I never do that.) That was the moment of greatest brilliance, in my opinion. And there are other examples - much of his work on the ground in Iraq was extraordinary, especially the footage of anguished and angry Iraqi civilians, and his work in Flint, with local kids and with Marine recruiters, was good.

The film runs into problems, I'd say, when Moore stops letting the footage speak for itself. Not that it shouldn't have had narration; I'm not being literal. But the weakest points are those made primarily by Moore himself and only secondarily by clips and photos chosen to evidence his conclusions.

This brings me to my main problem with Michael Moore. The material he's got raises some good questions. What exactly were/are the ties between the families of Bush, Saud and Bin Laden? What exactly were/are the ties between the US government, the oil industry, and the Iraqi oil fields? What is UP with the Carlyle Group, yo? Unfortunately, he doesn't answer these questions in a satisfactory way.

What Moore appears to do is present incontrovertible evidence and leave you to draw your own conclusions ("Bush and Osama bin Laden's relatives have business interests in common. So what was Bush thinking about when he found out the US was under attack on 9/11/01?"), which can only, in light of the footage, be Moore's conclusions ("Maybe he was wondering if he should have been more careful about doing business with the family of a known terrorist."). But the evidence is sometimes spotty - associations loose and vaguely characterized - and though absolutely worthy of attention (which no one's giving except him), not bulletproof enough to draw conclusions from, without further definition.

This, by the way, is why people who are already skittish about Moore tend to tip over to the side that thinks he's shrill and repellent. Another contributor: his tendency in giving interviews to ask questions that guide the interviewee toward a particular response, so that Moore seems less like a journalist or documentarian and more like a talking cattle prod.

The film fell roughly into two parts: pre-9/11 (Bush familiy business interests and the undesirables those interests bring them into association with) and post-9/11 (broadly: Iraq). The first half is where the weaknesses are. It's also where he does the most speaking. The second half is largely devastating - footage of soldiers and (even more emotionally straining) soldiers' families; of families of 9/11 victims; of damage done by war on American and Iraqi communities of ordinary people, the people Moore is so good at championing - and contains less narration. Both halves offer much to be appreciated. There was footage throughout the entirety of the film that made me variously bite my lip in anger, curse in silence, laugh out loud, and think carefully. That that footage was captured is a testament to Moore's ability as a filmmaker, and that it saw the light of day is a testament to his ability to project his voice.

Michael Moore wasn't trying to be fair. But presumably, he wanted to be effective. And on that criteria, I can't be exclusively complimentary. I'm defiantly liberal and proudly Bush-hating, but I didn't come out of the film doubt-free about everything it was saying. There were many spectacular things about it, but it wasn't absolutely spectacular as a whole. That's my verdict. Don't be too mean to me in the comments, please. Unless you really feel you have to be.

motivation

Reading Kabul Joe, Nikita's brother, presently stationed (duh) in Afghanistan, is the first thing in ages that has reminded me that this blog thing can be worthwhile.

it begins

Here are some things I might be doing over the next thirty-four days.

le SHOES

Anyone who knows me knows I love me some black heels. When I went to New York in February I took four pairs of black heels with me.

mine aren't this color, but whatever.

The era of the black heel is (temporarily) over.

out

(at mom's place for the week)

i have some news.

I just did something.

I made a purchase.

I purchased a ticket.

A ticket to New York City.

And it.

Is.

ONE.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

i invented a drink!

1/2 oz. Chambord
1/2 oz. dark creme de cacao
splash brandy
splash cream
serve up (chilled), preferably in a martini glass

It's good! It tastes kind of yogurty. Really good yogurt that is unhealthy and gets you drunk.

My name for it: the Yoplait.

extracurricular

If my going straight from bartending class and drinking at a library until two in the morning doesn't make you love me more, I don't know what will.

reagan

Everyone can stop feeling guilty about making jokes now.

hi, my name's kate, i'll be your bartender this weekend

Hahaha social science degree hahaha. As such, I'm training for a second job for two weeks. It's adding a grand total of 50 or so hours to my full-time schedule, so I'm not the freest of individuals right now, time-wise, blog-wise, whatever. 'Cepting a weekend I'm getting whisked away to see the siblings and those lucky Bay kids, I'm not gonna be spending any time over the next twelve days with pretty much anyone who isn't my boss, my instructor, or my main man Otis Redding.

the problem with being a vocal fan of the office...

...is that as more and more of your friends see it and love it, the greater the chance becomes of someone calling you, saying "COCK" and hanging up, and then leaving you with absolutely no idea of who it was.

every day i polish my revolver and shoot my head like a rock star

Gratuitous hating of own life over in these parts.

Tonight, because I was tired all day, I have been horizontal since about 7:00, reading, and I curled up in bed before 10:30. And waited. And waited. And despaired.

You know, there's something very cruel about being unable to sleep when circumstances conspire, for once, to make it a possibility. But after lying there for hours, listening to what sounded like echoes inside my own head, trying to put myself to sleep by reading, then by writing, and finally wishing I could cry about something simply so that I could tire myself out, I still didn't have any results.

And now I'm on the computer - I'm so fucking tired of computers! - in the middle of night, hoping it will put me to sleep.

AND I have the hiccups. The hiccups!

Part of me really, really wants to say "fuck it" and order pizza and watch Conan. The rest of me is thinking about how close I am to a not-long-anymore-but-at-least-hopefully-adequate night's sleep. All of me is cursing.


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