I’ve been meaning to watch Swing Kids since my friend Sam reminded me it existed last year while we were watching Robert Sean "Wilson" Leonard chastise Dr House for being a selfish, curmudgeonly evil genius (NB: IT WAS FINALLY LUPUS! If you know what I’m talking about, you’re a dork). And I was not disappointed. It’s so…perfectly early-90s. Also, totally filmed in Prague (standing in for "Hamburg") which I CALLED after recognizing a few streets–I know my Prague, what can I say? Anyway, it must be either Swing Kids or the fact that I just finished yet another draft (this makes 6 if anyone is counting) of my dissertation prospectus, which has gone from totally understandable in mid-July to 100 percent Mary O’Looney-Tune (Ted! Frank! Do you remember?!?), and now includes a three-page section on why my particular approach to Kafka’s "nonsense" precludes Hegelian determinate negation. I know what you’re thinking: "What? You watched Swing Kids? On purpose?" To which I say: Swing Heil, schmucks! My screening of Swing Kids was predicated by certain fears of late that I have lost my "edge" since moving to California, going vegan, giving up alcohol (mostly) and–ha, I can’t even write "falling in l***" without puking all over my keyboard, and this keyboard was purchased with my beloved grandfather’s life insurance benefit, so basically I would puke all over my grandfather’s memory if I wrote the l-word (no, not "lesbians"–I love lesbians–ack! I wrote it! I wrote it! But it’s okay because it’s in the context of lesbians).
Anyway, I have been accused of going soft in my cynical soul whilst going hard in my skinnified vegan bod, and so I figured a good Swing Kids marathon (which thank God only contained one movie–as far as I know there’s no Swing Kids II, though perhaps when the writer’s strike abates I can pitch it) would help bring my cynical back. Unfortunately I also read an article in the New York Times about the frenzy surrounding the filming of the "Sex and the City" movie and I realized Ohmigod I can’t waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait, but then I tried to justify this not being the ultimate sign that I’m going soft in the following conversation, which shall hereby go down in history as the Nerdiest Conversation about Sex and the City of All Time:
"But I used to watch Sex and the City CYNICALLY."
"But I thought the show itself was kind of cynical, or at least it was supposed to be."
"So are you talking about like a Second-Order Cynicism?"
"Maybe, maybe I am, well–but not really, because, no, I’m only cynical when the show veers into sincerity. Like, ‘Oh shut up Carrie, you’re so stupid.’"
"So you’re just going for a pure, complete cynicism."
"That’s right, a complete First-Order Cynicism. And I will even author a paper called Schuman’s Cynicism Completeness Theorem."