I first came across Bears in Trees on Tumblr, about eight years ago. Needless to say, my first impression was bad. Their outright lie baffled me — none of the band members were bears. Sometimes, they’d be in trees, though. Regardless of such despicable conspiracy, they grew on me. I put my liking of them down to their chaotic-good attitude and their British indie sound with a twist of queerness.
When the last scene from Pixar’s Luca was coming to an end, I tearily told my friends its only mistake — Disney’s censorship aside — was not including Mina on its soundtrack. It seemed fit for its subtext of a teenage romance set in the 60s dolce vita Italian seaside. I was proved wrong delightfully when the credits rolled to Mina’s Città Vuota, and the tears ran down my face.
Last Saturday, I noticed Janis Joplin mentions Detroit on Cry, Baby. I’ve had an abnormal fascination for the Motor City ever since I was a kid, to my USian friends utter dismay. I suppose they are far too desensitised from Detroit’s marvellous architecture, an unique blend of neo-Gothic and Flemish styles, to see through the myriad of challenges the town faces nowadays.
As of today, I’ve finished watching the Gilmore Girls. It hurt me more than anticipated. That last scene from Lorelai and Rory peacefully chatting, drinking what would be their final cup of joe together at Luke’s diner, early in the morning, as seen from the building’s window frame? It severed my cold-hearted cover, leaving me weeping and moaning with feelings. Can you believe it?
About half a year ago, I took advantage of a sale to buy some classical books I’d been long longing for. Amongst others, there were Horace’s Ars Poetica and Lucretius’ De Rerum Natura. That may or may not be the reason why most of the Fortune Cookie sections on this blog are filled with Latin.
