The Zeitgeist consumes us as we consume the Zeitgeist

Written eons ago for a grad class..The assignment…go to the mall..observe…write on the “Malling of America”

As I stand observing the myriad of mannequins robotically moving through the mall I can see the “Malling of America,” according to Kowinski, being choreographed. The mesmerizing mosaic visions and Mall-binding merchandising of science fiction mention in the article are paraphernalia are animated in my mind.  The Mall mesmerizes me.  I can see how we all as consumers are consumed, as Kowinski argues, by the ‘fortress of entertainment that is the mall.”

How can I take a critical step back from the theatre of consumerism? Is it really possible? .Starbucks is calling me and look, Gap is having a sale, and wait I really need a new handbag.. Kowinski explains that the mall has everything and from what I can tell it does.  How can I escape from everything and write from an academic perspective without being consumed?

It seems though that humankind has been searching for everything forever and so if the mall gives  to us  zombie shoppers a sense of “everything” then  maybe the mall does becomes the second opinion of the masses or the second garden of Eden. How can I critically escape from Paradise without being lost or taking a bite of the forbidden fruit, or at least purchasing those sweet Jimmy Choo shoes.

I have no doubt that I can be consumed by consuming as I watch the night of the living dead play out before me. As I watch the unfolding chaos I find a comforting hypnotic way of being and the bewitching power of consumerism casts its spell over me. I struggle to focus and become again a critical observer.  Maybe the mall is a form of escapism.

Rothstein seems to argue that escape from anywhere is not possible as we have nothing to escape from because in a post modern environment we are connected to nothing. Rothstein argues that our trends come and go so fast that there is nothing we can stick to and that there is nothing traditional to shape or guide our lives. In this sense as a consumer I am become just a random shape shifter that does not remember what it was, what I was last consumed by or what it will be that consumes me next.

As I stand back and observe I can’t help but feel that as consumers we are consumed, simultaneously, by our history and by our future and mall illuminates every dimension of whom we were and who we are. The mall identifies to the critical observer that we are constantly consumed by change; changes from both the past and the presence. The Zeitgeist consumes us as we consume the Zeitgeist  T S Elliot’s presence of the past is perpetually swirling around our minds as we are consumed within the fortress of entertainment.

“Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present”

index

The Escape of Malcolm Poe by Allison Burnett (Book review)

It had been ages since a novel kept me up all night, glued to the pages, marveling at a witty turn of phrase. Reading The Escape of Malcolm Poe s akin to devouring a spicy gourmet feast of a meal, enticingly good but surprisingly acerbic Allison Burnett paints a colorful yet dark picture of what it means to turn 50. Satirical to his core, Burnett is the God of smartasses and, paradoxically, the king of tender and lyrical prose. He brandishes a sword in one hand at each introduction to a new character while carrying roses in the other. At first you find the protagonist to be an arrogant, self-absorbed little twit, but by the end you discover a tender heart beating wildly under a guise of burlesque. Malcolm Poe is as endearing as he is infuriating. This novel is a visceral lesson in the drudgery, angst and the harrowing emotional transition that often comes with mid-life, a comedy and a tragedy, a book in which Burnett crafted a portrait so real that I sometime forgot I was reading a work of fiction. The Escape of Malcolm Poe is an experiment in literary innovation, flawless prose and delicious angst.

index

Blog Tour: Exposure by Jennifer and Morgan Locklear

Exposure_Cover_FINAL

SUMMARY​

Publicist Shaunna Noble is no stranger to the ego-filled dysfunction of Hollywood’s elite, but is she ready for her two biggest clients to turn into her worst nightmare?

Kyle Petersen and Michelle Cooper are Hollywood royalty, everyone’s favorite celebrity couple, but while on location filming their new summer blockbuster, Kyle ambushes his wife with divorce papers and orders Shaunna to destroy Michelle in the media. Unwilling to comply, Shaunna spectacularly and publicly quits her job, humiliating Kyle in the process.

David Quinn, a struggling actor cast alongside the A-listers, is caught in the crossfire. When pictures surface of David and Michelle out on the town, media and fans rush to crown them Hollywood’s new hot couple. Kyle explodes, tensions boil over, and everyone’s lives and careers are thrown into jeopardy.

So what’s a publicist to do? Especially when Shaunna finds herself falling in love with the sexy and talented David. Can she put out fires on the set while keeping the flames burning in the bedroom?

Love, lies and passion. What happens when the naked truth is exposed?

Bio​

Morgan and Jennifer Locklear met in 1989 as teenagers and became high school sweethearts. They have been married since 1995 and live in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States with their two children, a son and daughter.

Although both enjoyed creative writing in their youth, they have only been working as a writing team since 2010. Since then they have created a dozen full-length and short stories together.

Jennifer has been employed in fundraising and development for a non-profit organization since 2000. She also enjoys participating in charitable activities, both locally and online. In her (limited) free time she is an avid reader.

Morgan has been employed in the hospitality industry since 1998. He has been active in the local performing arts community since childhood with many acting and directing credits to his name. He is also a musician and songwriter and has recorded 6 albums.




Rules to Get Through Another Hallmark Holiday-by Tosha Michelle

1. Flowers picked, not bought. Any idiot can call the florist. It takes a special idiot to go out and create his own bouquet of suck up.

imagesf2

2. Absolutely no gifts from CVS or Walgreens

k

3. No plush toys, unless they are of the adult variety.

mmmm

4. The same applies for appliances.

nnnn

5. A card is a must. Extra points for a homemade one with a love letter inside.

mmmmmmmm

6. Ladies, break out the sexy underwear, or better yet, no underwear.

kkkkk

7. Also, girls, no personal ads to your snuggly, buggly, baby boo…. especially if it’s the first date.

imagesllllll

8. Gentleman no gifts inside a ring size box, unless it’s actually a ring…a really really big ring…

Otherwise, your night is going to get all kinds of awkward .

llllllllllllllllllllllll

9. If you are alone and single on Valentine’s Day, or married and alone (hey, you never know), kick Cupid to the curb, grab a friend and go out and celebrate YOU.

imageskkkkkkk

10. Make love the star of the show all the time, not just on some commercial cliche holiday made popular by Hallmark. Love is alive and all around us. Take time to experience and bask in it presence every day of your existence. Embrace love. Feel love. Be love.

“Where there is love there is life.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

llllllljkkkj

Low on Snark. High on Truths.

0 Random Facts About Me.

1. I’ve made tripping up the stairs and getting lost in my head an art form.

2. I’m an introvert. I’d much rather stay home, nose in a book, than go out to a party.

3. People perceive me as being very open, but in truth, I am very guarded and private.

4. I have a mad crush on Timothy Olyplant. It’s innocent. I just want him to cut my lawn san shirt and feed me chocolates.

5. I have been known to break into song at random and often inappropriate times.

6. London is my favorite city on the planet. I feel such an affinity with England, the whole country. I’d love to live there for a few years.

7. I can be extremely gullible. This trait has caused me some undue pain over the years. However, I am wiser and better for the experiences.

8. Oddly, enough I enjoy cleaning. Clutter and mess freaks me right out. I know, “anal much?”

9. When I am overly tired, I can get extremely silly and chatty.

10. My thoughts are most often random and never ending. My mind refuses to shut up.

11. My favorite book is Wuthering Heights. The moors, Heathcliff, Cathy, the passion, the angst. Talk about your “Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-Roma-ma-ah!Caught in a bad romance.”

12. Secretly, longs to be a ninja, but it more like a spaced out, geeky, , retro, southern belle.

13. Injustices fuel my rage and incite me to care and do more.

14. I am socially awkward. I’ve had to work to overcome my shyness.

15. I love to sing and always longed to be on Broadway.

16. One of my favorite movies is ONCE. I have watched it over 50 times now. It never gets old.

17. I can be intense about people, places, and things.

18. I use my sense of humor as a shield at times. I can be very biting and snarky.

19I. I still believe in love, magic, and the rainbow connection.

20. I’m very much a work in progress…always striving…Always becoming.

Kicking Pollyanna to the curb.

Removing my rose colored glasses.

Stepping down from my Ivory Tower.

Into a broken world.

Kicking Pollyanna to the curb.

Yesterday everything was disposable.

Self pity was my guide.

Always crying wolf.

For the suffering I had known.

Today the bubble burst.

Choking on my own callous disregard.

Slapping me out of my apathetic slumber.

To hell with selfishness and pride.

Eyes wide open. The blinders off

My heart cries..my soul aches

For the child who’s never known love.

Only abuse and neglect.

For man in need of a home.

Making a bed out of concrete and stone.

For the drug addict who fallen through the cracks.

Who can’t find her way back.

For empty bellies and a cruel world.

The sex slave being pimped on the street.

Only 15 years old her body bought and sold.

For war torn countries, surrounded by senseless death.

Genocide, mutilated figures, horrific acts..all in the name of hate.

Smashing my rose colored glasses against the wall of apathy.

Tearing down the Ivory Tower.

I live n the light of grace

Vowing to be a voice for change.

To take a stand, to never lie down in complacency again.

My shield hope. My sword compassion.

Eyes wide open in clarity and love.

-Tosha Michelle

Image

Who’s Afraid of The Big Bad……Big Bird???

I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching recently, stripping away layers to find out who I am at the core.  Turns out, I like to get my freak on, baby! Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle..Yeah…Umm, OK. You got me.  Getting my freak on consists of being a neat freak, reading and writing for hours on end and bed at 10:00. It must be noted, I have been known to eat raw cookie dough and forgo making the bed. Wild women do, and they don’t regret it.  I’m losing the plot here though.  When I laid my soul bare, I found that fear has been the great motivator most of my life. As a child I was always anxious, scared of the dark, monsters under my bed, people. I was painfully shy. I was afraid of getting lost or being abandoned. It didn’t help that I was sick a lot and had childhood epilepsy. Long story, but I was born premature, and in addition to causing damage to my optic nerve, it also affected another part of my brain. I was lucky I grew out of the seizures but my eyes are still a hot mess. In addition to all that nonsense,  I also had an irrational fear of Big Bird. Yes, THE Big Bird from Sesame Street. His yellow feathers sparked terror in my young heart.  It should be noted I was weird. The more things change.

As a teen, the fears differed but were just as strong.  I was afraid of rejection, failure, not fitting in; I was still painfully shy and awkward.  My irrational fears as a teen, boys. Yes, boys. I love them, but they became the new Big Bird. I had no clue what to do with their feathers except maybe ruffle them.  I’m still a pro at that, by the way. I remember the great Dr. Suglia describing me this way: girlishly charming and appealing but a trichotillomania inducing pill. (screw you Joseph) 😉

 

As an adult, I figured boys out (sort of) but the fear of rejection and failure are still alive in me. I’ve learn to fake being out going. I push myself daily to live outside my comfort zone. However, the hills are still alive with the sounds of that anxious, shy, scared little girl.) Nowadays, I find myself wondering why I have such extreme highs and lows. Life is wonderful. Life is horrible.  This narrative is on an endless repeat like a bad mix of an Adele song. By the way, how dare anyone mix an Adele song! THE NERVE! The wonderful thing about reflecting and looking at one’s soul is it leads to awareness.  I’ve finally discovered the root of my neurotics.  My moods are tied to outside forces. If I received praise that day, or if I felt slighted, if the scales were kind to me that morning or if they screamed (lay off the chocolate, woman)  etc.   I finally get it! I’ve been tying my worth to things and other people.  I’ve been so consumed with the exterior; with wanting to be liked, wanting to fit in that I forgot to take inventory of the internal. 

Guess what? The fear is coming from me; turns out I have had the power to dissolve it all along. All I had to do is find its source, acknowledge it, and kick in the teeth. So what if my charm eludes some people? So what if the scales go up a few pounds? So what if I don’t fit some preconceived mold?  My happiness, your happiness comes from within. We define who we are. No one else! The external will always be chaotic and unstable. People will come and go. Those things are out of our control. What we can control is ourselves and our reactions to life’s lunacy and A-holes.  The amazing thing is once we find peace with our inner being, the less shaky the exterior becomes. We have to let go of that which we cannot control. 

Another secret I’m learning is the past and future are way overrated.  The here, the now, this moment is what should really rock our socks off.  When we focus on the present and what it can bring, fear becomes less and joy becomes more.  I’m learning to kick that tired, worn narrative of I love my life. I hate my life to the proverbial curb.

Today I’m writing a new story, one of hope, self-expression and love. Fear has no place here. Living does.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find a grown boy and see if Sesame Street is on. Big, yellow, and his beautiful feathers are calling my name. (And no, that is not a euphemism.)

Image

Life is creation Love is existence. Time the catalyst.

 

I have my moments of boisterous and loud behavior,

usually, when I am angry or excited over the prospect

of chocolate, or a new book, but mostly I prefer to live

a reflective quiet existence.  I freely give my time and

resources and often share more than I should. I

sometimes find myself over extended. I love to analyze

things to death. I am a classic over thinker, digging and

examining issues, putting myself in the heart of

difficult situations.  It makes for an interesting life.

but I feel strongly that love should be given freely

and without fear, or expectations.

I truly believe we are not alone in this world. 

Everything is alive.  Everything is conscious.

Everyone is our friend. We are all part of the

universe; we are one and it’s up to us to make the world

a better place. Life is in us and all around us. 

“The really important kind of freedom involves

attention and awareness and discipline, and being able

truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for

them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every

day.”

-David Foster Wallace.

“The world we are experiencing today is the result of

our collective consciousness, and if we want a new

world, each of us must start taking responsibility for

helping create it.”

—Rosemary Fillmore Rhea