Mother’s Day Came Early This Year
Smile at a mom today.
Good evening, Babbling community—
—We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news. Mother’s Day has been rescheduled to occur right now, months ahead of planned proceedings. Why?
Abracadabra… We’re Saved
During the Grammys on Sunday night MasterCard became one of the coven of women who raised us. This is a really incredible credit card company that we’ll all be switching too now, sorry to all Visa Veras, I was one of you, but it’s over now. We’re peons of MasterCard, because Mrs. Card gave us the new Lady Gaga music video (and song?!!) for “Abracadabra” during a Grammys commercial break.
To say we are gagged is to attempt to paint the ceiling of the Vatican with a single orange crayon. To even put into words the sheer salvation and comeuppance and glory and rebirth and hope and metamorphosis currently occurring across the globe in Little Monsters everywhere is to redefine the term gross understatement. In face, the only person who might have any idea of the burden we, as culture writers, are now under to craft sentences doing justice to the explosive transcendence of “Abracadabra” is her:
It’s a perfect song from start to finish, on the levels of “Bad Romance” with sheer unprecedented groundbreaking structure, lyrics, production, and vocals, a never-before-heard type of music that is instantly needing to be played in Berghain while I seduce a straight guy who then ends up asking for my hand in monogamous marriage. The video…. The video, the video, the video. Not since “Marry The Night” have we seen a video on this magnitude of visual taste, not since “Alejandro” have we seen choreography and brutalist architecture with a military influence in such a way, not since “Bad Romance” have we seen such iconography and deft use of a single concrete space, not since Dakota Johnson’s “Architectural Digest” have we been so moved by a windowpane — let this be a lesson to all the polygamists out there: monogamous marriage yields healthy and beautiful results. Lady Gaga is engaged to a kind good man named Michael Polansky and we should all partner off and settle down for a life in a cottage with our husband or wife.
This is my favorite song and video of all time, bar none. It’s the only thing that matters. It also happens to have solved all of our problems, and we’re all fixed now and everything is going to be OK. Because we have this.
I don’t know if anyone made this edit yet but I felt I needed to create this for somewhere: https://x.com/Hiltyhilthilt/status/1886522698617991646
An Ode To My Mother
My biological Mom, the woman whose uterus I emerged from nineteen years ago (of course this all applies to Gaga as well, but I’m talking about my mom, Kristina, now), graces Babbling On the podcast today.
We had a really beautiful conversation about trauma, faith, creativity, perseverance, books, and so much more (the general topic was life advice). I just wanted to take a special moment to shout her out once more, formally: Mom, you are the most courageous, brilliant, beautiful, strong, kind, loving, incredible person in the world and I love you so much. She has restored my faith in the world more times than I can count. I loff you so much Mama!
One particular story I want to quickly share happened last June, when she and my sister Winnie came out to visit me and help me move into my new apartment in Bed-Stuy. I’d planned out the moving schedule to a t(ea?!), complete with a PDF outlining when and where we’d be meeting the movers, factoring in lunch breaks, etc. (which isn’t like this iteration of myself at all, who tends to favor the more laissez-faire approach to life). After scrubbing my new apartment down, my Mom and sister and I were relaxing in bed before going to my storage unit to meet the movers and get all my stuff to take back to my new apartment. Of course, then, as my sister asked offhandedly “How late is the storage unit open?” I realized that it would be closing in five minutes, well before the movers were scheduled to arrive to load my stuff out.
Whatever, this story is probably better told verbally, but suffice to say, we called the storage company and I screamed and cried and wailed and begged them to stay open late and they said no, and then my Mom took the phone and bribed the storage unit employee to stay open an extra 30 minutes until we could get there. She withdrew the cash from a janky ATM outside her hotel that only ejected 5$ bills, and so 30 minutes later, post-me tantrumming during a very painful cab ride out to East New York, my mom handed the very kind woman from my storage unit a violently thick wad of 5s. Because of her insistence that I have faith, we moved into my place successfully, where I write to you today from my couch, having not showered since Sunday, chick peas congealing on my stove.
Mom, I’m the luckiest they (what the helllll pronouns should I use by the way) in the world because I have you as a parent. I’m so, so sooooo grateful. Love you infinity times. And one day I will pay you back for the bribe.
East of Eden
Speaking of mothers…. Cathy from East of Eden? If you haven’t read this book, it’s literal heaven… I’ll say no more. This is a literary classic that reads a mile a minute. They had its book jacket blown up and framed at the Barnes and Noble Cafe I worked at in high school in suburban Milwaukee. I’m now finally reading it every night before bed and I end up being awake until 3 AM seven nights a week because I’m so hooked. John Steinbeck gave birth to quadruplets that day.
Little Children
Holy shit? Todd Field… your womb is more fertile than most. In fact, standing next to you, Jon and Kate Plus 8 have been referred to as barren in many circles. Field is most recently known for writing and directing Tár, which I’m highly due to rewatch. But back in 2006 he released Little Children, which was nominated for three Oscars - Kate Winslet for actress (in possibly my favorite performance of hers, ever), Jackie Earle Haley (incredibleeee in supporting actor, should have definitely beaten Alan Arkin for Little Miss Sunshine, although this really should have been Eddie Murphy’s award, actually, but then again, this is the infamous year where fucking Helen Mirren beats out Meryl for Devil Wears, alas…) and adapted screenplay. Incidentally, Tom Perrotta hive rise up (he’s the co-screenwriter and the novelist behind the source material for this, as well as the novelist of Election).
This movie ROCKS and Patrick Wilson is reaaaaally hot in it.
Todd’s other big movie, In the Bedroom (2001) is probably my least favorite of his three big features, but still worth checking out. That one had 5 Oscar noms, including lead actress for Sissy Spacek and supporting for Marissa Tomei, but sadly isn’t really all that much about stuff that takes place in bedrooms. Well. I guess it depends what you do in your bedroom. Really sad. Still worth seeing.
Single Mothers Deserve Support
I’m a single mom myself, having recently gone through labor to produce some beautiful children of my own:
As you all know, the podcast has been going swimmingly. Between Artpop, Awards Season, Months, and Christmas Movies, there’s really something for everyone, so please don’t be shy about catching up with the airwaves. We’re actually looking to sell out to a producer so we can make money on the episodes and have little videos and stuff if anyone reading this happens to be a bigwig.
Some recent pieces I’ve done for The Hollywood Reporter:
‘Sing Sing’ Screenwriters on How to Write a Movie About Prison
‘Nosferatu’ DP Jarin Blaschke Dissects Film’s Striking Opening Sequence
I’m looking for someone to publish a children’s book I wrote!
Please reach out if you’re ready to say:
(she says the words “let’s publish” in this scene, not sure if that’s landing?)
All for now, bye Little Babbles!
Xo Hilty