Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t actually think that there are any men of my acquaintance who give a rat’s ass about football or the Superbowl. Gentlemen, am I right? (
Instead, I spent the weekend reading. I finished ‘Persepolis: the Story of a Childhood’, which was one of the best comics I’ve ever read. Totally amazing art, incredible story. I’ve been interested in Iranian women artists ever since I wrote a paper on Shirin Neshat, so Marjane Satrapi was a logical choice, with her tale of a childhood spent before and after the Islamic Revolution, with privileged yet protesting parents and a grandfather who went from Prince to Prime Minister to Political Prisoner, thanks to the fickle nature of the Shah. Her hatred of the veil, her love of denim and Michael Jackson, her obsession with heroes and martyrdom and her complex relationship with God are so compelling and it humanizes the whole issue of the war between Iran and Iraq. So good.
That book reminds me that I was going to recommend another excellent graphic novel, to anyone whose pulse beat a little faster at the thought of the new movie on the life of Beatrix Potter. Sadly, ‘Miss. Potter’ (starring Renée Zellweger and Ewan McGregor) was critically panned and tanked at the box office due to its weak script, but if you want to read the story they *should* have filmed, then go take a look at Bryan Talbot’s ‘The Tale of One Bad Rat’. This is the story of Helen Potter, a young woman who has suffered from sexual abuse and who is on the run from her family, living on the streets of London in the 1990s with her pet rat as companion. She is obsessed with the life of Beatrix Potter, and her journey takes her through Potter’s home territory in the English Lake District. Helen is constantly drawing animals in Beatrix’s style. This is a story of survival and inner struggle and while it is beautifully drawn, the plot does not soften the edges of the core messages about the challenges of recovery from homelessness and abuse. Read it.
Sunday I went for an extra long run, visited my Dad for lunch, and then hopped on a train downtown to visit
IN PHOTO NEWS:
My friend
Can you come to FIS after work? I need to show you a few things.
starfishdude is into the sports, but you knew that.
The ‘One Bad Rat’ story sounds great!
Sure! I hope you understand that being incredibly vague makes your suggestion really ominous sounding. Like you want to show me your closed fist, or a piece of lead pipe or something. Lucky for you, my curiosity is too strong to pay heed to these feelings of creeping discomfort.
Please tell me you want to show me your new kitten? Or a lollipop?
Actually, I wasn’t sure if E. was *really* into sports, or just humoring you. Now I know! Also, I continue to feel bad about not liking Slings & Arrows. Sorry sorry sorry.
No, we’re both pretty hardcore. 🙂
And that’s OK! I love you still.
I think enjoys the football, as well.
THREE ladies! I did not know this about Ms. Tapeheads. Interesting.
I don’t often watch football at all but I usually watch the Super bowl. I like championship games.
Now hockey, I loves me some hockey.
I do believe Heather has read Persepolis and enjoyed it a lot.
The neighbors across the hall are yelling loudly in Indian and I can’t tell if they are mad or just talking loudly.
I also like the hockey. Live and televised, although I fell off the wagon after the long hiatus for the strike and am now totally out of the loop. Some days I think, if I didn’t like hockey, they might take away my citizenship.
When you say “Indian”, do you mean First Nations or South Asian? Are they yelling in Ojibway or Cree, or do you mean Hindi or Bengali? Either way, I bet it sounds cool. If you suspect they’re yelling in Hindi or Urdu, try yelling back “chupchap!” (quieter!) or “Chupke! Chupke!” (hush! hush!)
Sadly, I can’t offer help in native languages, as I am ignorant and uncultured in that arena. Maybe try knocking and hand gestures?
South asian for sure.
Get back on tha hockey band wagon full tilt!
The joys of living in apartments. You just can’t pick your fellow tenants.
David Tennant?
A favourite prof of mine actually assigned Persepolis in our cross-cultural psychology class, I thought it was a brilliant move on his part. Incidentally, I believe the sequel is out now – read it and tell me if I need to trek to the bookstore, it’s too cold to go out unless I have a promise of some good loving at the end of it.
Ah, hockey. One good thing about Waterloo was that there was nothing to do, so there were tonnes of impromptu fans to watch sports with me. And I thought living in a culturally-impoverished German beer town had no perks.
though I am usually particular about the teams I’ll bother to watch… except the playoffs.
I must hide it well.
In fact, I twisted arms this year to get someone to host a superbowl party since my living space is micro and stuffed full of stuff.