What's in a name?

The above title will most likely have little to do with this post, but as you may or may not know, once some tidy phrase or keen groupings of words comes into my brain, it becomes quite hard for me to let go of them. So there is lays. A question that rolls off the tongue quite nicely and begs an answer for which we will nonetheless be unrequited during the remainder of this post.

Onward!

A night of drinking, movie watching, and sentence boggle. A night of politics, film ideas, and poorly remembered video game playing. A rainy night, not unpleasant, which has left my head only slightly spinning and my obsessions, for the time being, quietly laid to rest. A night, a bar, a few friends. OK, I think you get the point.

A. Short film idea (in the documentary category): the history of bathroom graffiti. Who do you know who actually admits to writing this stuff? What compels them? What comes first: the idea of what to write or the compulsion to just leave your mark? Where does this legacy come from and can we claim hieroglyphics as it's ancestor?

B. Short film idea (in the scripted category): people trying to recall and tell jokes in a social setting. Some people just have this knack, most of the rest of us don't. In 4o minutes, three of us could only remember one punch line (it had to do with Arafat), two witty rejoinders (Beef Stroganoff and you can see your house from here, respectively) and a myriad of beginnings (Salvidor Dali and Pablo Picasso are walking on the beach...) You get the idea.

C. Something much harder to pinpoint here. Going to a bar alone and whether or not it can indeed be an enjoyable enterprise. That it is much easier to love a dog than your fellow human. Persepolis was equally lovely and underwhelming. Obama is not quite what we want him to be. Will Google soon rule the universe? And birthdays. Not everyone necessarily wants to celebrate them.