The clocks have turned backwards one hour, winter is officially here. On Friday, Kat and I went to Cinemateket to see “PJ20”, the Pearl Jam documentary directed by Cameron Crowe. We both liked it but agreed that “Back and Forth”, the Foo Fighters film, did a better job at telling a more comprehensive story about the band; in “PJ20” there are lots of conflicts that are left unexplored and although it was great to see rare footage of the band’s early days, it would have been nice to see Crowe going a little bit deeper into certain subjects, like Eddie’s relationship with the band around the “No Code” era, the power-struggle between Eddie and Stone, the whole story about the drummers… you know, he could have push things a little bit.
However, “PJ20” is a very enjoyable film, one that had the same impact that most of these music documentaries have on me: they all make me a) wish I had more pictures and videos of my childhood and my teenage years and b) wish I’ve had a long-time friend. I know it sounds silly but that’s how I feel. I think that, because I moved from one city to another at very particular times in my life, I never got the chance to bond with someone the way some of these guys did; I see Dave and Taylor, E and The Chet, Eddie and Jeff, and I can’t help to feel a bit jealous about their relationship. I guess it’s the kind of compromise that usually comes with with the desire of living abroad and experiencing new things, you have to give up certain things in order to achieve new ones.
On Sunday, Kat and I went for coffee at KaffeKilden, then made a short visit to the National Museum to see “Fur – An Issue of Life and Death”, an exhibition about fur clothing which includes historical and contemporary fur garments from the northern hemisphere (chinchilla fur FTW), then headed to Fisketorvet for lunch and finally to Cinemateket again to see “Blood Ties”, a Danish documentary about a seriously fucked up family. At the beginning, I swear I thought it was some sort of mockumentary but it soon became obvious to me that it was actually the real deal. It was a sad and depressing film that made me feel so grateful for my family and fortunate to have what I have; fuck the longtime childhood friend and the pictures and videos from my teenage years, things could be much worse. No doubts about it.
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Went to the doctor today to get the results of my blood tests: both my vitamins and cholesterol levels are fine and I have been informed I’m HIV negative. Phew. I don’t know why but I get terribly anxious every time I get tested, despite knowing how careful and sexually responsible I have been over the years. In my head, it’s like the supermarket cart; you know no one will take anything out if you leave it unattended but you still keep an eye on it. Anyway, glad to know everything is good with my blood.
Just a couple of hours ago, Gavin showed me the new issue of Plethora, a beautiful independent magazine founded in Copenhagen that is packed with “poster-size visual indulgence and tales from the life less ordinary presented in a careful blend of quirky archive material, wondrous art prints and contemporary artist features.” The newest issue features an article about the Zambian Space Program led by grade school science teacher Edward Makuka Nkoloso, who dreamt of shooting Zambians into space back in the 1960’s. How come I had never heard about this before? Bloody brilliant. I googled it up and turns out there is a short documentary about it, which is now part of my to-do list, and a few documents online, including this fantastic clip:
Afronauts, they just made my day.