A Hostel is a Hostel is a hostel. . . .

To begin with, I found a place to live with a really cool dude in a fabulous apartment in a black neighborhood. I am beginning to become a WB sitcom.

But let us start with Hostel-ity.

There are two basic kind of hostels. The Serious Traveler and the Serious Partier.

That is also a lie, for there are never just ‘two basic’ anythings.

Not even gender.

But, it comes close sometimes.

The first Chicago hostel I patronized was a Serious Traveler. No drinking, guests are kicked out in the middle of the day, and the commons rooms are more like study halls. My current hostel is of the other type. Booze is allowed and drinking tours of the neighborhood bars are conducted regularly. The crowd at the Party Hostels are generally younger. Or is that too obvious?

Whatever kind of hostel it is there are some things they all have in common. And the international clientele sets the tone for every decision. Despite this, you must resist the urge to compare them to the United Nations or even The European Union. Practicality reigns at the hostel, and the gilded and carpeted halls where Earth’s diplomats eat gold and screw interns are on the other side of the mind entirely.

Picture it, bathrooms, showers, beds, toilets and kitchens must be accessible to Vietnamese, Austrians, Venezuelans, Japanese, Russians, Greenlanders and even Texans. And when you walk into a hostel at dinner high tide there is a euphony of dinner smells pouring forth from dozens of cooks from all other the planet. Especially in Chicago, as these guys can get a hold of their native cuisine with one train ride. And no, this ain’t just Ramen from around the world. A group of students from Viet Nam had come prepared, and every evening
we witnessed family style dinner with a line of bowls filled with beautiful food.

An odd thing about the smell. I have always been repulsed the odor if the combined KFC Taco Bell places. And once, when I went into a place that served both Mexican and Chinese food, I almost threw up from the violent riot of scents in my nose. These hostels doesn’t have that. Somehow the smells all work, they get along in a way that multiple foreign objects rarely do. Which takes us back the UN and all that is ‘other’ to it.

People here HAVE to get along. There are too busy, too poor and too alone to do otherwise. There are exceptions, but exceptions are exceptional ( Yes, the redundancy is important
here) and they are quickly ostracized or ignored. I don’t think I need to speak on this subject anymore to Chicago people. Here, elegant plumes of common sense in the shape of buildings, roads, trains and people fill the eye and mind.

So what is the difference between the UN and the hostel? Why are these two places so different? The UN exists to celebrate and defend the differences between people, the hostel forces you to find the commonality.

The last night I was in the hostel, I was up until 4am talking with a Chinese national, a Taiwanese and VietNamese and the occasional Brazilian about nothing BUT important topics. Can you imagine that? No small talk whatsoever, for even the most casual observances where lessons of English for them, and discoveries of knowledge for me. It was the kind of talk that makes you stronger, full of hope and less tolerant of the mean side of yourself.

Now it has to be said, communal living can suck due to sleep talkers, excessive drinkers and the strange smells that can come from the orifices of some folk of which good taste prevents description. However, I always feel like a better man every time I leave a hostel. And today, in a world of retail jobs and Republican debates, that’s a feeling more precious that Lady Gaga’s next hairdo.

NEXT WEEK:
ADVENTURE ON THE GREEN LINE! OR I HAVE MY FIRST REAL CITY DAY.

Scahdenfreuden Review A Taste of Honey. . .

A Taste of Honey, a Swallow of Brine

Producer: David F. Friedman
Director: Byron Mabe, ( aka B. Ron Elliot )


Do you remember Plato’s Allegory about the cave? He was describing his version of how reality worked. Basically, all things in the world are the indirect expression (like a shadow) of the most perfect possible form of that thing. The cell phone you are holding is a temporary and flawed version of the most perfect cell phone ever, which exists only in the Most Perfect Ever Realm, which does not exist in physical form.


When it comes to the tease, our girl Sharon, the lead character in A Smell of Honey. A Swallow of Brine is the Most Perfect Ever Tease, from which all other teases exist but as temporary and shadowy substitutes. Plato would be pleased.


The Schadenfreuden Scale would like to applaud the makers of this movie as a textbook example of what we like to call, JUST PLAIN WRONG! Though set up as a morality tale about how leading a man on is socially undesirable and can lead to bad things, the extreme character of Sharon, plunges this tale into a sensational lurid myth that does nothing but exploit a pervasive problem in society; male on female violence. And if someone is being exploited, we approve heartily! These are exploitation movies, for Christ’s sake! Whattya want for nothing? A rubber biscuit?


This is not a Schadenfreuden movie for everyone. Though only four boobs are presented, they are presented often. And the lustier quality of certain scenes are indeed the early seeds of legal pornographic movies. We recommend this as a couple’s flick. Try making out when Sharon and her teasee’s do! These scenes eat a lot of film, and you can tease each other in the privacy of your own movie house! Frustration is fun!


But there is much to offer outside the nudies, of which Miss Stacy Walker is a knockout as Sharon in the best of 60’s fashion, style and pizzazz. Though one mention must go to the most unattractive shot of a breast we have ever seen. More shocking in that all the other shots of Miss Walker do her, and God, much credit. You’ll know it when you see it. To finish out the subject, there is a healthy amount of lingerie, no vaginas, no penis’, lots of boobs and lady butt and one brief man butt. The retro clothing styles were limited and the Schadenfreuden ladies wished for more shoes.


There a total of five teasee’s in our tale, and Sharon tears ‘em apart with the passion and stress of a bra on a Russ Meyer movie set. The acting is well, bad. Pretty bad. And that goes for every actor on the set. But I have a strong belief that the actors would not mind so much hearing that. For indeed, acting is not the point of this film! Miss Walker does her job just fine, and the men don’t really need to act much with her dancing naked at them. Besides, there is montage aplenty! We have a ‘rape trial montage’ with the credits! We have ‘new guy in life Montage’! We have three, COUNT THEM, THREE!, separate ‘frustrated sex fever dream montages’ connected directly with a ‘frustrated sex daydream montage’ at the workplace! Amazingly bad and totally exploitive! All Schadenfreuden glory to senor Freidman!


Some fun bits to watch for are the fabulous observations Sharon makes about her being raped (she wasn’t), the Ringo poster on the wall at Tony’s concert, what Sharon can do with a Coke bottle during that same concert, and through-out the sweaty teased and the haughty Sharon will either piss you off or delight you with her evil ways!


There is a little torture in the dream sequence, and the ending is not for the squeamish. And it is not what it presents, it is how the scene is shot, and what parts of the violent act are shown. You be the judge. And we hope you are saddened by the judgment. For we are The Schadenfreuden Conclave, and your sadness delights us.


Some fun stuff particular to this flick are:
Miss Walker’s use of the word ‘bitch’
Tony’s ironic song, listen close to the words. Yikes!
What happens to the forth teasee, beware!

Classsic bad movie elements contained in this Flick
Bad acting. Oh, so bad.
Excessive montages
Undressing scenes taking an inordinately long time.
A BDSM movie disguised as a morality tale. (Yes, they are common)


THE DRINKING GAME FOR “A Taste of Honey, a swallow of Brine”

DRINK WHEN:
The word ‘bitch’ or ‘butch’ is uttered.
When Sharon’s hair sticks up like an alien from Babylon 5
Granny Panties!
When Sharon is behind her typewriter

CHUG A WHOLE BEER WHEN:
Sharon says finally No! to each of her suitors.
Tony sings!
Boobs in a mirror!

IF ONE HAS TO WRITE A COLLEGE ESSAY FOR FILM CLASS

The real adventure in gender-role politics is to juxtapose Jodi Foster’s The Accused to A Taste of Honey, A Swallow of Brine. The collage of emotions that the two lead characters present, encapture a separate ethos of sexuality, or indeed separate pathology as brought on by the confusion of the Stripper/Nun Syndrome of Modern Suburban morality. Sexual Repression, inter-social violence, class consciousness and the nature of the supposed sex drive are all indicted in the utterance of Sharon in Taste of Honey: “I’ve been raped once this season, I’ll try not to let it happen again.”


SCHADEN FREUDEN SCORE
Elements: 6 (out of 10 )
Titillation: 4 ( out of 5)
Wrongness: 4 (out of 5)
Style & Funness: 2 (out of five)
Extra points: 3 (out of five)
TOTAL: 19 ( out of 30 )

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