Girls.

I happen to think Lena Dunham's new series "Girls" is fucking awesome (and I don't use the f-bomb lightly in prose, people). The show centers around four friends living in New York--their pitfalls, laughs, disagreements, conversations, romantic calamities, and total clusterfucks (there's that word again). While critics have worried over PC concerns (where's the diversity in the cast? why is Hannah, the protagonist, so entitled? why are Millennials so obnoxious?), I've enjoyed every minute of the series. Finally: an authentic, witty, and garish representation of the post-collegiate bubble. Am I the only one who feels as if they know all of the "Ladies" on the screen? Sure, I'm blushing to high hell when Hannah gets it on with her eery sociopath of a lover but hey, I'd be lying if I told you I didn't know a few myself. The show is relatable and real, putting a positive spin on the malaise that characterizes the Millennial generation. Sure, we're educated and empowered, but we don't know what the f--- to do..or at least I don't. While I'm no critic myself, I am excited and proud of Miss Lena Dunham. Go on with your bad self because you really are "a voice of a generation," and we need you.

Hackers

I'd like to take a moment for Hackers, the 1995 weirdo classic featuring a shorn fem-bot called Angelina Jolie, a very blond Johnny Lee Miller, and a 14 yr old boy who smokes through braces. Let's not forget the Venezuelan guy with leopard pants and a trick for tricking pay phone operators, the hippie waif with braids and kitten sweaters (he's male btw), and of course, Marc Anthony. Yes, you read me right.

Why do I mention Hackers? what got me hooked? the rollerblading? the ninja-turtle style leather jackets? the fantastically 90's backdrops? Yes, all of it.

Hackers offers a deliciously ugly world of high school hijinks with a dose of total world domination. Think: sneaking cigarettes and computer equipment; running from parents, early curfew, and the FBI; and the occassional infiltration of the commercialized world from a stolen perch at the top of a sky rise.

This pod of ragamuffin dweebs want nothing more than to sit around reading thick computer manuals, drinking iced teas, listening to doped-up remixes. Call me crazy but I salute the Hacker life style. I think I'll braid my hair, buckle on some skates, and take over the world. I may even do the truly unthinkable and buy a metallic leather jacket..

The Cult of Beauty

"The hours when the mind is absorbed by beauty are the only hours we live." I saw that quote at a recent exhibit entitled The Cult of Beauty--an exploration of aesthetics during the Victorian Era. It might have been my mood on that Saturday (a triumphal blend of still nerves and electrical pulses, lemon tea and whistling pines) but that struck me as Pure Beauty, no questions, no further questions, contained, flawless.