Spellbound
Lately I’ve been finding myself more and more entertained by non-mainstream movies. I’m not exactly about to start joining extreme left-wing parties, hypocritical critic circles, or intellectual snobs, but I will continue to enjoy such movies and keep them on my agenda – especially after what I saw last night.
D and I watched Spellbound, a documentary following eight children and their goal to become the American National Spelling Bee Champion.
I’d like to note every thought the movie evoked from me but I’d rather not write a lengthy passage that turns itself into a bad movie review.
So, I’ll keep it short and sweet.
1. I was very impressed by the African-American girl with the chain smoking-mother. Looking at her surroundings and peers, it’s a miracle that she would have the drive and determination to do what she does.
2. I felt quite disturbed by the 12-year-old vegetarian and coffee addict.
3. I felt sorry for the Indian boy who was made to rehearse 8,000 words a day by his father. Although it is evident his father wants the best for him, tutoring in four languages can’t leave much time to do what most 12-year-old boys do. And paying one thousand people in India to pray for him to win is going beyond a joke.
4. The kid with a short attention span is fucking annoying. Think of the most annoying kid you’ve ever met. Then double that. Now you’re getting close.
I’d also like to note that I did not know how to spell half the words these kids went through. But that’s not really saying much, is it?
Ok - the words they had to spell are fucking hard.
Good Night.
Contrast
I was lost in a black and white daydream when I recognised a real face in the crowd.
There she was, all smiles and cheer with a bright blue backpack, jeans and a tank top, brushing my shoulder in the post-lunch march back to work before recollection set in. Her face, as always, was beaming, talking of grand holiday plans with friends and an overseas trip with her long-term boyfriend. She has just finished her last semester of uni, secured a job in a good company and has the day to herself to windowshop.
There I was, feigning a smile and cheer with a beige bag, dark suit and a tie, brushing past others in the post-lunch march back to work before recollection set in. My expression, as always, was somewhat lost, talking of vague holiday plans with friends and a cancelled overseas trip with my family. I mentioned that I was no longer at uni, have been jumping between interviews without success and have the day to worry about a backlog of work and a dental appointment.
After I'd set the tone, few words were spoken outside of sociable manners - vague statements and empty promises - and we soon parted. I walked towards the station with my head hung low, attempting to divert my attention from an aching tooth to the contrasting tiles that paved the path before me.
I was lost in a black and white daydream when I recognised a real face in the crowd.
There she was, all smiles and cheer with a bright blue backpack, jeans and a tank top, brushing my shoulder in the post-lunch march back to work before recollection set in. Her face, as always, was beaming, talking of grand holiday plans with friends and an overseas trip with her long-term boyfriend. She has just finished her last semester of uni, secured a job in a good company and has the day to herself to windowshop.
There I was, feigning a smile and cheer with a beige bag, dark suit and a tie, brushing past others in the post-lunch march back to work before recollection set in. My expression, as always, was somewhat lost, talking of vague holiday plans with friends and a cancelled overseas trip with my family. I mentioned that I was no longer at uni, have been jumping between interviews without success and have the day to worry about a backlog of work and a dental appointment.
After I'd set the tone, few words were spoken outside of sociable manners - vague statements and empty promises - and we soon parted. I walked towards the station with my head hung low, attempting to divert my attention from an aching tooth to the contrasting tiles that paved the path before me.
I am Man, Hear Me Roar
Whoa.
Mate, Saturday was un-fucking-believable. First, drove down to M's place and had a bit of a read and write with this fuckwit trying to take my parking spot. I sorted him out good. Got there and knocked back some stubbies and kicked his ass in chess.
Had some maccas on the way to Dominator's place and got stuck into some more booze in the backyard. Played some cards and the loser had to do some arm curls. Mate, should have seen me - I was fucking killing it.
Knocked back a couple more schooners then we went down to the local to watch a kickboxing competition. Me mate A had his first fight and he cleaned the guy. You should have seen him though - he was cut to the shithouse. Then there was this guy, going for the Australian championship, and KO'd the other bloke in less than 2 mins in the first round. It was fantastic.
Went back to D's place to knock back some more New's before I got home. God knows how I got home.
I awoke the next day to find a slight hangover lingering and the taste of alcohol plaguing my tongue. I looked around the room to find my clothes scattered on the floor, reeking of second-hand smoke and general pub odour.
God, I feel like a mess.
It's time to wake up and clean.
Whoa.
Mate, Saturday was un-fucking-believable. First, drove down to M's place and had a bit of a read and write with this fuckwit trying to take my parking spot. I sorted him out good. Got there and knocked back some stubbies and kicked his ass in chess.
Had some maccas on the way to Dominator's place and got stuck into some more booze in the backyard. Played some cards and the loser had to do some arm curls. Mate, should have seen me - I was fucking killing it.
Knocked back a couple more schooners then we went down to the local to watch a kickboxing competition. Me mate A had his first fight and he cleaned the guy. You should have seen him though - he was cut to the shithouse. Then there was this guy, going for the Australian championship, and KO'd the other bloke in less than 2 mins in the first round. It was fantastic.
Went back to D's place to knock back some more New's before I got home. God knows how I got home.
I awoke the next day to find a slight hangover lingering and the taste of alcohol plaguing my tongue. I looked around the room to find my clothes scattered on the floor, reeking of second-hand smoke and general pub odour.
God, I feel like a mess.
It's time to wake up and clean.
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