The Big, Good Snowball

You guys, I have been so overwhelmed with good stuff lately, and I’m trying to do the extra bit of work it takes to make the good luck snowball. You know? I’m growing my snowy ball of goodness, as they say. (Well, no one says that. But you know.)

Twitter Changes You


I’ll admit it now. I’ve been cheating on y’all with That means that, instead of taking time to write a thoughtful, or at least thought-filled blog entry, I fill up my Twitter page with 140-character blurbs that only a few select people can see. And now that I’m in the habit of doing that, it seems like there’s nothing that can’t be expressed in 140 characters, and therefore I have no right to blog anymore. Kind of like people used to feel about haikus, back in the day, in feudal Japan. Maybe. Maybe, right? People started talking to each other in haiku only, and quit having so much to talk about, outside of the falling of the leaves and the koi fish in the water? No? Okay, pretend I didn’t say that, then.

The other thing, though, is that I’ve gotten into the habit of repressing the details of my Real Life here. And then, on Twitter, I’m lulled into this sense of safety, wherein I can post stuff like, “I just put a blue sock on my foot and thought about murdering my coworker.” For example, I mean. Not that I actually thought that, because I love all my coworkers to death. But you get what I’m saying, right?

I have to go now, but

here is something I started to write for y’all the other day, real quick, about Gong Li, before I opened up the Internet and realized that Gong Li is a world unto herself and doesn’t need the likes of me trying to encapsulate any one facet of her life into blog words, whether 140 characters or more or less:

The Curse of Gong Li

Every time I see a movie with Gong Li in it, no matter how awesome Gong Li’s character looks or how well her life starts out, she ends up dying and/or going crazy and/or being miserable in the end.

And then it makes me think about how, even though she’s freaking awesome, Gong Li has only gotten crappy roles in US movies. Miami Vice. Hannibal Rising. Second banana (who ends up crazy/miserable) in Memoirs of a Geisha. She admits it’s because she can’t speak English well enough. I feel bad for her. I mean, I’d be sad as hell if I had to learn Chinese in order to further my career.

I looked her up online today and found out that famed director Zhang Yimou was sleeping with her when he cast her in her most famous role. Cheating on his wife with her, actually. She broke up with him and then he didn’t put her in his movies anymore.

Sad. Old-Hollywood-glamor-style sad, right?

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Posted in meta, pop culture, writing on 03/26/2008 12:25 am

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