I am embarking on a new business venture: headbands.
Though I love my short hair (compliments of Boris B) -- I'm always looking for ways to spice up the shag and add more of a feminine touch.
A few months ago, I had been desperately searching around town and online for a cute headband made of feathers. Everything I found was over $30 -- or looked like a dead bird attached to a wire.
Then it ocurred to me: I could make a headband myself. The results...LGcreates! Now, most of my headbands are created with feathers, stones, and silk flowers from Michael's in Timonium or Towson Plaza. I'm also always on the lookout for cheap yet innovative items -- such as colorful buttons (12 for $1) from Minas in Hampden.
And best of all? I love making them. It's nice to take a break from typing, and I really enjoy creating items that make women feel beautiful, confident, and unique.
Plus, I'm supplementing my handful of part time jobs! You've got to be creative during a recession...
Thanks to those who were able to make it out this weekend for Simpatico. (Click the link for more details)
(Mike Wills and Mackenzie Astin)
You can also catch Simpatico on Friday, March 6 (8p) Saturday, March 7 (8p), and Sunday, March 8 (2p).
The Sunday show will be followed by a question-and-answer session. Our discussion yesterday was pretty interesting. The questions ranged from "What happens if you drop a glass onstage?" to "How did your own research of Sam Shepard influence your performance?"
Also, you'll have a chance to see John Astin introduce the play!!
That means, seven times a year, I'll provide more than 60,000 readers (from MD, DE, PA, and VA) with the latest on events in the Chesapeake-region, as well as the arts, food, travel, home, garden, and local personalities.
I can't wait to visit the area, and I hope you'll share any secret gems. Feel free to comment or send an e-mail to RedLipstickAndCandy@gmail.com.
I try not to steal ideas from the newscast I write for, but I just had to share one of today's "lighter" pieces -- literally.
Slender Wine, based in Indiana, is the world's only naturally-sweetened wine. No carbs. No fat. No sugar. Basically, a diet wine.
Slender comes in white, blush, and red... for just TEN DOLLARS a bottle. Slender hasn't hit the national market yet, but individual bottles are available for purchase off their website.
This is Jesse Monet.* She's a two-year-old chocolate lab and lives with my parents in Baltimore County. Jesse likes bacon-flavored toys, stealing socks and women's underwear, and string cheese.
Jesse enjoys going to the dog park. Though she refuses to cuddle with me, Jesse is quite the socialite at the Baltimore Animal Recreation Park. For only $25 a year, Jesse chills with her dog friends almost every day - rain or shine. She frolics in the 1.5 acre field (for "big dogs"), and enjoys the "all-you-can-drink" special from the park's water fountain.
Though I often call Jesse a "bitch," (she bites me, ignores me, and prefers every other member of my family to myself) I still love her. She's the bratty, but adorable, little sister I never had, and even though I'm slightly allergic to her, I'm proud to call her "Dog of the Week."
*Jesse was apparently a very expensive dog, which is where the "Monet" came from. French for money? I still don't understand.
Nothing's worse than someone who smells too strongly of perfume or cologne. It's tough to gauge the right amount to apply, so I usually opt for a scented body lotion instead.
But there's one intoxicating perfume that I always go back to...
Philosophy's "Falling in Love" ($25).
It's a delicious blend of vanilla, soft florals, and ripe berries... so it smells like a sexy, fruity cupcake!
Just slip the tube in your purse and apply when needed. The roll-on applicator makes it easy to dab on your "pulse points."
Thanks so much to Saya for designing the banner for Red Lipstick & Candy! I love it!
Many people have asked me where the title comes from -- especially because I don't wear red lipstick and don't eat much candy.
But you know who does both??..... My grandmother. When we moved her into an assisted-living home, her first request was for red lipstick and candy. Apparently, her most essential possessions.
Therefore, the title is a tribute to the things we love and can't live without -- however bizarre they may seem.
And on that note... I totally owe Saya our FAVORITE meal from the Charles Village area...
The best part of the last few [transient] days of nice weather has been running outside.
As much as I love yoga, running outside is the ultimate therapy. While yoga helps clear my mind, running seems to generate ideas. I usually come up with ideas for stories while running, and it's the best way to blow off steam.
That being said, a good pair of running shoes is essential to get up and down Maryland hills. For the past four years, I've purchased my shoes at Fleet Feet Sports in Baltimore.
The shop, located in Pikesville's Festival of Woodholme, is paradise for runners. The employees are energetic and experts in all things running. I've never been disappointed in a pair of shoes, and surprisingly, each pair has cost me less than $100. (Usually around $85)
(The Brooks GTS (9.5/narrow) have been my weapon of choice for the past two years.)
By watching the customer run in either old or new shoes, the employees offer suggestions in terms of support and shoe structure. They even let you take a jog outside.
Fleet Feet Sports also has a wide selection of running apparel, particular shorts (my favorite: black and hot pink Nike shorts!) and sports bras.
But they're not just a shoe store, more of a running support system.
Fleet Feet runs a 5K training program, which kicks off April 18th this year... as long as you can wake yourself up for the 8am runs.
They also have Tuesday and Thursday fun-runs. Because everyone knows it's easier to get through the miles while chatting with someone -- maybe even a cute runner new to town?
In the past few weeks, I've come across several instances in which news has seeped into my entertainment.
Big Love is an HBO series about a Mormon family. In the current season, characters mention "what's going on in the news" -- which indirectly refers to Warren Jeffs -- the head of the FLDS Church who's been convicted of such crimes as sexual conduct with minors and incest. In fact, one of the central character's plot lines appears to be mimicking Jeffs'.It seems necessary for Big Love -- a show about religion -- to address the news; however, I think without explicitly mentioning the controversy (by name), the references comes off as phony. If the news is going to become an integral character to a series, I think actual footage from the "controversy" and/or more specific references would have made the themes of paranoia and bigotry more textured and less assumed.
A Showtime series, the L Word explores a network of lesbians in the Los Angeles area. The series has always throbbed with politics; the sixth and final season explicitly mentions Prop 8, recent homophobic assaults, etc. But this season I've been frustrated with Max's plot line. A transgendered female-male, Max becomes pregnant after having unprotected sex with his biologically male boyfriend. After discovering his pregnancy, Max mentions the controversial "pregnant man" -- Thomas Beattie. If Max was so familiar with Beattie, you'd think that he'd realize it was possible for a biological female taking male hormones to become pregnant. This plot line feels forced and contradictory. With recycled material from the news, it seems like an appropriate time for the L Word to come to a close.
Also on Showtime, Secret Diary of a Call Girl is probably my least favorite series of the three. However, I think the show does the best job of alluding to a recent news controversy. In the second season, the protagonist Belle, an "empowered prostitute," has an affair with a politician. Unfortunately, a paparazzo catches them and threatens to make the photos public. Problem is, Belle keeps her profession hidden from family and friends. Though Eliot Spitzer's name isn't brought up, the episode immediately brings the former New York governor's situation to mind. The difference is, Secret Diary uses the situation to reveal a different side of the over-told story -- the prostitute's point of view. The episode made me wonder, in a thoughtful way, how Spitzer's "female friend" felt during the incident. While Secret Diary allowed me to ponder news in a unique way, the other two shows seemed to be tapping me on the shoulder in an effort to remind me they were relevant.
So in the end, I'm torn. On the one hand -- keep your news out of my entertainment!! I watch a show to escape, not to be reminded of polygamy, Prop 8, and over-reported political/sexual scandals. On the other hand, I applaud the shows for attempting to be socially and politically relevant. I just wish they'd keep their artistic integrity throughout the process.
The recent salmonella-outbreak is a scary thing. At least eight people have died from the bacteria and more than 550 have been sickened. Working in the news business, I've been keeping track of daily peanut recalls. It was a sad day when I was forced to toss my peanut-butter flavored Nature Valley bars.
But the peanut-butter scare doesn't have me nearly as worked up as this past summer's tomato/salmonella scare. Between salads, sandwiches, and eggs, I probably eat a tomato or two every day.
The perfect counterpart to tomatoes is mozzarella cheese. And though tomatoes and mozzarella work best on top of a crunchy pizza, I've learned to incorporate the yummy items into healthier meals.
I don't cook, and my kitchen is TINY, so most of my meals are prepared in my trusty microwave. About a year ago, I discovered I could actually MAKE EGGS in the microwave!! Several times a week, I'd pour a cup of egg whites into a microwavable bowl, toss in some tomatoes and cheese (or if I wanted to get fancy... basil, salsa, green peppers, olives) and heat on 2 minutes, stir, heat for 2 more minutes. Voila! Perfection in a bowl.
Then just a few days ago, my thoughtful and understanding mother gifted me with this, a MICROWAVABLE OMELET MAKER:
Someone out there realizes that not all of us have the time to wait for the stove to come on. Not all of us dishwashers or garbage disposals that can handle cleaning a pan.
I tested the contraption today and enjoyed a DELICIOUS omelet. It's easy to use and comes out in the shape of an omelet I'd order at any restaurant or diner.
You have 17 days left to catch Everyman Theater's production of I Am My Own Wife.
Bruce R. Nelson plays the politically controversial transvestite Charlotte von Mahlsdorf in Doug Wright's 2004 Pulitzer Prize-winning play.
Though it's a one-man (or should I say "woman") show, Nelson uses different voices and characters, so it actually feels as though there are a series of actors on the stage.
The first act was a bit slow and weighed down with exposition, but the second act exploded. I Am My Own Wife is funny, sweet, and heartbreaking. The play is not "about transvesties," nor is it "about the Stasi;" rather, its about the choices we are forced to make for art, love, and our personal happiness, and the inevitable repercussions and judgments that continue to follow like a shadow.
See it!
And before -- or after -- grab a mozzarella-tomato-basil crepe from Sofi's Crepes or sangria and the roasted eggplant from Tapas Teatro -- all on the same block as Everyman.
I have a weakness for artists from Great Britain. I think Ricky Gervais (Extras, The Office) is hysterical, and I will always love Amy Winehouse.
My newest obsession from the UK is Kate Nash. She puts Lily Allen to shame. And she's only 21! Kate's lyrics are quirky and dirty, and the playful piano sounds like a happier version of Regina Spektor.
I love her new CD, "Made of Bricks."
I really wanted to add her music video, "Mouthwash," but the embed-link is disabled. Instead, here's a live version:
"No, I would not like to go to Power Plant with you." Just the thought of Power Plant brings back embarrassing memories of dancing at cheesy clubs like Iguana Cantina and Have a Nice Day Cafe. My girlfriends and I tried to see Lindsay Lohan and "DJ" Samantha Ronson at Mosaic Club in October and got kicked out of the VIP area after some trashy girl told us we "didn't know Heather."
And that makes me wonder why Rams Head Live! sits among the tackiest clubs in Baltimore, yet still has managed to become one of the premier concert spots in Baltimore. In the past six months, I've seen the Indigo Girls, Hanson, and on Wednesday - The Black Keys, all at Rams Head.
It's about a $10 cab from Charles Village to Power Plant, or, you can valet your car at a restaurant such as Ruth's Chris Steakhouse. Otherwise, parking's about $20 in the lot. Doors for the concert usually open at 7pm, and the opening band often doesn't hit the stage until 9pm, so I like to pick up my tickets from will-call and then grab some food and a drink. Fortunately, Rams Head is huge and there are several levels, so it's pretty easy to find a spot where you can see, even if it's packed. Also, Rams Head has two bars which are fairly easy to access, and the drinks are around $4-$7.
When I go to a concert with my mother, we'll valet our car at Ruth's Chris and get a glass of wine and some appetizers. (Blackened tuna, chopped salad, and tomato-and-mozzarella, yum!) On Wednesday, my friend and I checked out happy hour at Babalu Grill. The menu seemed too good to be true -- and it was. Mojitos aren't really "in season" right now, but they were two for $4. Big mistake! The mojitos tasted like nail polish remover, and the mint was soggy and brown. We played it safe with two rum and diet cokes for $4.... and figured out why the drinks were so cheap. The bartender clearly used the cheapest rail rum.
The food was decent. The Caribbeanbruschetta ($3) was underwhelming, and the chicken fajitas ($4) were soggy and too spicy. The one bright spot was the plantain chips and mango salsa. Delicious! The tab for the entire dinner was $19.97, and though the food was mediocre, it was worth every penny to sit on a conga drum at the bar.
conga drums/bar stools. (Oct. 2006 -- Halloween date party!)
I went to the concert not knowing anything by the Black Keys, and I was shocked that the gig sold out. Unlike most of the shows I go to, the audience was mostly men... and mostly in flannel. Black Keys consists of a singer who plays guitar (with way too much distortion) and a drummer whose talent parallels Meg White from the White Stripes. He kept the beat but didn't offer much in terms of fills or interesting beats. Maybe I'm missing something?
So moral of the story... though I fully support a grand dismissal of Power Plant Live, don't forget about Rams Head; it's the mango salsa in a happy hour of mush.
I really, really wanted to like Diablo Cody's new show United States of Tara. The half-hour series about a suburban mom with Multiple Personality Disorder debuted on Showtime last week.
Here's why I expected to like it:
-- Showtime series are usually smart and edgy.
--Toni Collette is a genius. (Little Miss Sunshine, Towelhead, Sixth Sense, etc.)
--John Corbett (the guy who played Aiden on Sex and the City) is adorable.
--Juno-writer Diablo Cody created the series.
As you can see from the picture, Collette's character, Tara, has three alter egos: the 15-year-old girl (T), the white trash war-vet (Buck), and an uptight, domestic goddess (Alice). The trouble is, Collette's no Jim Carey, and her portrayal of the alters felt unusually forced and cartoonish.
Tara morphs into an alter when she's faced with a situation "she can't deal with." So, when Tara discovered her teenage daughter Kate's morning-after prescription, she turned into T, the teenager alter. As T, Tara painted her toenails black, smoked pot, and raided her daughter's closet for thongs and low-rise jeans. Though initially it was funny to see classy Collette play the ditz, the act got old. Diablo Cody had the opportunity to portray a unique teenage experience; instead, the character was rifled with [annoying] cliches.
The first episode is full of exposition. Tara's husband doesn't NEED to tell Tara's sister how long the two have been married. Diablo Cody seemed to be ramming exposition down the audience's proverbial throat -- I wish we had learned the back story in a more interesting way. The first episode also left me wondering: Why are we starting at this point, this exact point, when the family is already familiar with her alters? Where are we going? We know Tara has had the disorder since childhood, but it's hard to believe she truly functions and can raise a family. Her characters are downright irresponsible and dangerous. (For instance, Buck starts a fight with her daughter's boyfriend and grabs Kate's friend's butt.)
The match-up between Corbett and Collette wasn't right either. Maybe it's because I loved Aiden in Sex and the City (though he's let himself go since then),but you get the sense that Collette's just a little too old for Corbett, and it's hard to believe he has a 16 and 13-year-old kid.
But I'll keep watching, and here's why. There were a few moments that made me believe this show is more than a cheesy gimmick. As Buck, Tara calls her effeminate son a fag. As T, Tara tries to have sex with her husband, even though Tara doesn't want him to sleep with her alters. These two moments were chilling. How does a son respond when a form of his mother throws homophobic slurs at him? How does a husband respond when his wife's body with a 15-year-old mind seduces him? These moments forecast some potential in this series, and while I felt the first episode was 90% hokey, I'll tune in next week.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Please stay tuned for:
1. Review of Diablo Cody's (writer of Juno) new Showtime series featuring Toni Collette and the guy who played Aiden on Sex and the City.
2. Response to the much buzzed about self-help book "Why Men Love Bitches."
3. Tasty tour of Baltimore with Rocket to Venus' head chef David Carleton.
Everyone loved "Milk." Though Sean Penn's performance was phenomenal, I have to admit that I preferred "Slumdog Millionaire" and "The Reader" to "Milk." (I'm still looking forward to seeing "Doubt," "Revolutionary Road," "Frost/Nixon," "Gran Torino," and "Rachel Getting Married.")
Anyway. I saw "Milk" with three straight guys and my best friend Audrey. The story was moving and the acting was well-done. Though I found the film a bit preachy and predictable, I think it's a powerful piece of art that calls for change, and I wish it had come out before the November Prop 8 vote in California. (An early opening could have just been preaching to the choir, but it likely would have inspired more people to get involved in the cause.)
So where am I going with this?
Last night I was out to dinner with a group of straight guys (and Audrey). In one breath they were talking about enjoying "Milk," in the next, someone suggested we play "Slap a Ho" drinking game later that night -- which involves plastic cups and ping pong balls.
True, "ho" is more of an innocuous term than "fag" or other homophobic terms brought up in "Milk." My friend would never have suggested playing "Slap a Fag" or "Slap a [N-word]" Why then, is it okay to use a derogatory term about women? Its repetitive usage, especially under the influence of alcohol, only makes the term more acceptable to use. (And don't give me bullshit about how a whore is a profession that some women choose. Think for one minute how lucky you, your sister, and your girlfriend are to NOT have to sell their bodies.)
I constantly hear people say: "That's gay..." "He's gay..." "That movie's gay..." The best way to respond in these situations is to ask, "Why is that gay?" or, "Why is it called "Slap a Ho?" I've found that just asking the question has an unbelievable effect and generally leads to a thoughtful discussion -- plus, it's a nicer and more effective way of calling someone out than shrieking "DON'T SAY THAT!"
When you see a movie like "Milk," let it change you. Realize the amount of cruelty that exists in the word in the form of racism, homophobia, xenophobia, and sexism, and choose not to fuel it... even by playing what seems to be a harmless drinking game.
I should probably mention my preference for female singer-songwriters. It's not that I don't enjoy the male voice, but I grew up listening to artists such as Sarah McLachlan, Indigo Girls, and Liz Phair and have always enjoyed listening to songs and attending concerts of female rockers. (My first concert ever was the 1998 Lilith Fair)
Ingrid is a classically trained pianist and songwriter. Her voice is quirky but strong, and so are her lyrics. I didn't become a such a big fan of Ingrid's until I saw her play this summer at Towson's Recher Theater. I was blown away by her live performance; the music was stripped down to just a piano and guitar which highlighted her voice more so than her instrumental and heavily produced albums. She also has great stage presence and told cute stories to introduce her songs.
I'd recommend the album, "Girls and Boys" (2007). Every song on that album is beautifully written and produced, especially: "The Hat," "Corner of your Heart," and "Starting Now." My favorite tracks off her albums "Be Ok" (2008) and "Slow the Rain" (2005) are "Mosquito" and "The Chain."
Here's a live video of "The Chain." The video's a little blurry, but the sound is great. Pay attention to the rounds in the chorus...
There are three pieces of work that I can't get off my mind: The Reader (still in theaters), Towelhead, (recently released on DVD), and How I Learned to Drive, a 1997 play by Paula Vogel. I highly recommend checking out each piece of work.
The Reader -- a film that spans about 40 years in Germany -- was phenomenal and has already garnered Golden Globe nominations; Towelhead, is a quirky dark comedy about a half-Lebanese teenager growing up in Texas; How I Learned to Drive, is a must-read and 1998 Pulitzer Prize winner about a Maryland girl's adolescence and sexual awakening.
**Spoiler Alert: Plot Reveal**
These works explore the tension between good and evil, black and white, and binary relationships in general. It's not until an hour into The Reader that we discover that Hannah Schmitz (Kate Winslet) was a former S.S. Guard during World War II, who aided in the deaths of more than 300 women. Writer David Hare begins with the relationship between Winslet (in her 30's) and 16-year-old Michael Berg (played by David Kross and then Ralph Fiennes). Their age difference is not mentioned in terms of right or wrong; rather, clashes in their personalities and male hormones lead to the demise of their relationship. Though critics have brought attention to the statutory rape, the film does not view Winslet as a predator, and their age difference receives significantly less attention than their difference in literacy.
Years after Hanna abandons Michael, he attends a hearing of the S.S. guards and spots his past lover. Michael faces a tough decision and contradicting feelings. Does he offer the details of her illiteracy to help defend her case? Is he disgusted by her actions? Is he bitter that she left him? These precise feelings aren't addressed. The audience anxiously waits for a scene when Michael explicitly confesses his situation to his law professor -- who'd surely point Michael in the right [moral] direction -- but the conversation doesn't happen. The Reader isn't The Curious Case of Benjamin Button or Marley and Me; it specifically doesn't offer explanations to feelings. Though Michael sends recordings of classic novels to imprisoned Hannah (hence the title), he doesn't respond to her letters and consequential new found writing abilities. When the prison matron asks Michael to help Hanna once she's released, it appears he wants nothing to do with her. He decides to help, but when he finally visits, his coldness likely leads to her suicide. The Reader jumps through time, ignoring narrative consistency, in the same way the film rejects the notion of logic. The worst question you can ask after you see The Reader is: why? Why does Hanna kill herself? Why doesn't Michael write her back? Why does Hanna let 300 women burn in a church? The film specifically does not want to provide its own answer to those complex, disturbing, and heartbreaking questions.
My parents prefaced Towelhead as being a film I "would have written." Even though Towelheaddeals with racism, pedophilia, and parental abuse, I take it as a compliment. Towelheadis unapologetic. Case in point: the first scene opens up with Jasira (Summer Bishil's) stepfather offering to shave her bikini line.
Similar to The Reader, Towelheadexplores the concepts of right and wrong. Clearly an older man and Army reservist, Travis, (Aaron Eckhart) wanting to have sex with a 13-year-old is wrong, but the film introduces Jasira as a sexually mature girl who wants sex -- and begs for pornography. Melina (an excellent Toni Collette) is constantly prying into the strange relationship between Travis and Jasira, and she's the voice over the shoulder that says "this is wrong!" a voice that is absent during the pedophilia between Hanna and Michael in The Reader.
But besides sex, Towelheadexplores the "right" kind of parent. Jasira's father (standout Peter Macdissi) reprimands Melina and her husband for thoughtlessness after finding out Jasira had sex in their home; however, he slaps his daughter when she shows up to breakfast in boxers and a t-shirt, locks her out when he finds out she's using a tampon, and beats her when he discovers her pornography.
This film provides a vivid glimpse of hypocritical judgments and beliefs. Though Jasira's father constantly laments the fact that Texas locals think he's un-American because he's Middle Eastern, he refuses to let Jasira be with a black boy because of her reputation. Towelhead is an excellent coming-of-age film, especialy since it explores the experience of a a girl not usually seen in pop culture. It reminded me of Ghost World, American Beauty, and Slums of Beverly Hills. Check it out.
How I Learned to Drive is one of the most haunting plays I've ever read. The play explores sex in the way that Pillowmanby Mark McDonagh explores violence. It didn't occur to me when I first selected these three works that they all deal with pedophilia in such a similar way; in each, the the younger partner (the victim, by law) is intrigued and attracted to the older partner and the sex is, to some degree, consensual.
In How I Learned to Drive,Li'l Bit (a family-given named for a small patch of pubic hair at bitch) is sought after by her uncle-by-marriage, Uncle Peck. The play considers the possibility of Li'l Bit instigating the relationship and egging him on. The narrative is reverse-chronological, so we watch the relationship develop from her college years back to her adolescence. Much like The Reader, How I Learned to Drive refuses to use logic to define its characters' actions.
It's easy to see why Li'l Bit likes Uncle Peck. Her family thinks her boobs are a bigger asset than her brain, and only with the encouragement from Uncle Peck does she apply to college. Plus, Peck isn't related by blood. Vogel specifically describes Peck as an innocent and attractive looking older man.
It's not until the final scene that we discover that Uncle Peck molested his niece at 11-years-old.
Vogel requires that an older woman play Li'l Bit's character throughout the play. Vogel purposefully toys with the audience's expectations, and it's not unusual for an audience member to ask with shame, "Would I have had the affair as well?"
In Spring 2007, I had the privilege of seeing my monologue Baby Girl produced by Johns Hopkins University's Witness Theater. In the play, 35-year-old Rick lives alone with his "baby girl." He takes care of her, watches TV with her, and loves her with all his heart. It just so happens that his baby girl is a dead fetus living in a tank that Rick "saved" after his pregnant wife killed herself.
"Now I’m no fool.I know some folks might say I’m as sick of a man as Sachs* by the way I treat my baby girl.But all I’m doing is loving her like anyone would love their baby girl.People love all kinds of things, things that make you sick.Things that make you broke or mean.I just think a person ought to be able to keep what’s theirs.Ain’t that right, baby girl?"
*Phil Sachs slept with his teenager daughter.
Many people will say that the three works I mentioned -- and also my own work -- are sick, disturbing, and wrong. I've always thought that instead of immediately labeling art, characters, or people as "good or bad," it's important to examine the motivations and back-story that lead to their choices. Material about pedophilia, incest, and abuse in general that doesn't directly point out the "villain" is important because it challenges our notions of the moral and ethical "right and wrong." Works such as The Reader, Towelhead, and How I Learned to Drive reveal that people can't be labeled as simply as heartless S.S. guards, oversexed teenagers, horny uncles, or "terrorists," but human beings with complex motivations and objectives, and often, sad sad lives in which they were victims once themselves. We need to engage with the disturbing in order to challenge our own perceptions and avoid making binary claims. There's a little bit of "right and wrong" in all of us, and being able to explore complex and disturbing characters takes us one step closer in understanding and exploring our own lives.
