About a year ago, after joining Netflix and deciding that it is quite possibly the best thing ever, I rented “Born into Brothels”. It was so true and so touching and completely beautiful and heart wrenching that I became addicted. To documentary films. Lucky for me, Spliff has been stricken with the same disease.
Our taste in movies is usually pretty similar because, although I like an occasional chick flick and she doesn’t at all, we both tend to find the most depressing films ever made, buy them, and watch them over and over again (“Schindler’s List”, “Hotel Rwanda”…). Documentaries are much, much worse for us.
When I first watched “Paperclips”, I watched it alone. I bundled myself up in my bed with a glass of wine and got through about three minutes without crying. By the end, my eyes were swollen and red and my face was streaked with enough tears to fill a swimming pool. And of course, I couldn’t let Spliff get away without seeing it. So, about a month ago, I rented it again. This time, before the movie even started, I plopped a roll of toilet paper onto the couch between us and got ready to cry. Half a roll of toilet paper and two stuffy noses later, she loved it.
So, while searching for the perfect Christmas gift for her mom, Spliff stumbled across this. And of course, she bought the movie. And we watched it. And I cried my face off. And I am in awe. I can’t believe that three normal guys from San Diego were able to do so much. They started a movement. They changed something. It is inspiring and heart warming and just effing amazing. My point is, if you haven’t seen or heard about this movement, you need to. Go here. Get the DVD. Watch it. Join the movement. After you see it, you will feel like a complete asshole for debating about whether or not you wanted to spend $25, but then you will know that you can help…CHANGE THE WORLD. Get off your asses. Go.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "Colors" - Amos Lee