Music awareness this week, thanks to a visit from Brock, my older brother:
Fleet Foxes
She & Him (I finally heard 'em!)
Wilco - Kicking Television: Live in Chicago
Speaking of Wilco and Fleet Foxes, this'll get you a free download of the two bands in concert covering a classic song. In other words, Strife-Gone, apply directly to the earbuds.
Finally, from my brother, I'm unable now to ever ignore Natalie Portman's boyfriend, Devendra Banhart:
That's from the album Cripple Crow
I also want to write a bit about The Twelves, but Blah Blah Blah's got it. Get that podcast.
Your ears can thank me later.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Well
Yes. In a better world, yes. We all want Obama to serve McCain's long absent sanity to the Republican candidate in big, chunky bites.
Much as I hate it when I realize this, we ain't in Sorkinland. We're not going to win that way. Not in an America this debased and narcissistic. We're not going to win with an "elitist" strategy. We're not going to win by educating the public. It ain't gonna sway McCain voters.
I say WE keep screaming and yelling. Get it off our chests. Pound our fists. GET ANGRIER. Because we, smarty U.S. Citizens, are humble enough to admit that we don't have the chops for the Presidency, a big part of the many reasons we want to vote for a candidate who does.
In the meantime, it's frustrating to watch Obama not say the things we're thinking. After eight years that actually make me nostalgic ever so slightly for Reagan, I want Barry to throw it at 'em. I really do. Do you honestly believe all of this hasn't occurred to him, though? It has. He knows. He's making a conscious decision. It seems to be working. He looks so steadfast. He looks and (mostly) sounds Presidential. This is showbizzness, whether we like it or not. We want and need to win. He might be doing the right thing.
Either way, Thursday we get to watch the Palin/Biden square-off, truncated though it may be. And it will still be good television.
Aside from all that, just remember, Obama beat the Clintons.
Much as I hate it when I realize this, we ain't in Sorkinland. We're not going to win that way. Not in an America this debased and narcissistic. We're not going to win with an "elitist" strategy. We're not going to win by educating the public. It ain't gonna sway McCain voters.
I say WE keep screaming and yelling. Get it off our chests. Pound our fists. GET ANGRIER. Because we, smarty U.S. Citizens, are humble enough to admit that we don't have the chops for the Presidency, a big part of the many reasons we want to vote for a candidate who does.
In the meantime, it's frustrating to watch Obama not say the things we're thinking. After eight years that actually make me nostalgic ever so slightly for Reagan, I want Barry to throw it at 'em. I really do. Do you honestly believe all of this hasn't occurred to him, though? It has. He knows. He's making a conscious decision. It seems to be working. He looks so steadfast. He looks and (mostly) sounds Presidential. This is showbizzness, whether we like it or not. We want and need to win. He might be doing the right thing.
Either way, Thursday we get to watch the Palin/Biden square-off, truncated though it may be. And it will still be good television.
Aside from all that, just remember, Obama beat the Clintons.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Letterman,
of all people, outperforming every op-ed in America, and delivering it to an audience that might actually listen:
Add to that a guffawing Olbermann, and you've made my night.
Looking onward to my next post, tagged as Nature, I will do a revealing piece about the rare species Guffawing Olbermann. This graceful, hilarious creature has bright blue plumage and chirps loudly to ward off oil barons. Last depicted in the film Ferngully.
Add to that a guffawing Olbermann, and you've made my night.
Looking onward to my next post, tagged as Nature, I will do a revealing piece about the rare species Guffawing Olbermann. This graceful, hilarious creature has bright blue plumage and chirps loudly to ward off oil barons. Last depicted in the film Ferngully.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
These Women
All told, festival-wise, everyone's saying wow! and huh?!
Couldn't ask for more. Look at that cast.
As for the title, well, Gesundheit.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Well, THAT Almost Makes up for Seasons 5 Through 7, Herr Cold Open
The people who want English to be the official language of the United States are uncomfortable with their leaders being fluent in it.
Yeah. Guess who wrote this for his ex?
Still wishin' for that op-ed zingin' fetus we'll never get.
Yeah. Guess who wrote this for his ex?
Still wishin' for that op-ed zingin' fetus we'll never get.
I Blog Now
Did you know? And if the AV Club is going to keep posting funny videos of cats (cats with helpful sound fx) then I'm going to copy and paste said cats. I think this has something to do with playing with a kitty named Revolver Ocelot, and then watching him chase bunnies. What I'm describing there is a cute quotient I had somehow never imagined.
Also, The Olbermann Cycle, written and directed by Keith Olbermann and starring Keith Olbermann as himself (Defender of hope and small children), Comedien Rush Limbaugh, Bill-O the Clown, and the rest of Fox Noise, coming under cover of wagon to a city near you:
Also, The Olbermann Cycle, written and directed by Keith Olbermann and starring Keith Olbermann as himself (Defender of hope and small children), Comedien Rush Limbaugh, Bill-O the Clown, and the rest of Fox Noise, coming under cover of wagon to a city near you:
Friday, September 19, 2008
Smooth, Sophisticated Alive-ness
Cigarettes. My one and only. You're gone. Sweet cylindrical ones, you're gone. It's been nine months. Now I know how pregnant smokers feel, obvs (minus birthing a bowling ball sized creature from an opening that sends pain signals to my brain). Except, after the emotional space mountain I've been on since sounding the death knell to all those future coffin nails, I'll never come near you.
There will be no substances in my body that don't do any modicum of good for my mind. I like having better circulation. I really can feel it. It's like something clicked recently, and I don't feel so detached from my body, don't yearn ceaselessly to be twenty years old again, to have all that energy, and never start down such a path of delicious self-ravaging. I still often feel like crap when I wake up in the morning, but that's also getting better.
C'est la vie. 30 is the new 20, and 50 is the new alive for another twenty years after, at least for the men in my family.
There will be no substances in my body that don't do any modicum of good for my mind. I like having better circulation. I really can feel it. It's like something clicked recently, and I don't feel so detached from my body, don't yearn ceaselessly to be twenty years old again, to have all that energy, and never start down such a path of delicious self-ravaging. I still often feel like crap when I wake up in the morning, but that's also getting better.
C'est la vie. 30 is the new 20, and 50 is the new alive for another twenty years after, at least for the men in my family.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Sta Bwoy
Now it's time for that rare music update, because the French and the Canadians are better musicians than the British. Lazy British.
Anyway, shove this in your cochlea.
It's Sta, he's twelve or something, and he's the new vibe. Go figure. Subscribe to the podcast on that site, as well as the Marine Parade Podcast, won't you?
His Blah Blah Blah mix is retro, funky and hip-hoppy. It closes with Breakbot's sublime re-working of Evil Nine's They Live, and you get the bonus of all the joy that leads to it.
If you're heeding my advice, you'll also end up with Sta's September mix, which contains the alarming revelation that Jesus was a B-Boy.
Anyway, shove this in your cochlea.
It's Sta, he's twelve or something, and he's the new vibe. Go figure. Subscribe to the podcast on that site, as well as the Marine Parade Podcast, won't you?
His Blah Blah Blah mix is retro, funky and hip-hoppy. It closes with Breakbot's sublime re-working of Evil Nine's They Live, and you get the bonus of all the joy that leads to it.
If you're heeding my advice, you'll also end up with Sta's September mix, which contains the alarming revelation that Jesus was a B-Boy.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Political Monomania (Post 174c0p)
A letter to my Mother:
Mom,
I'm having a very hard time right now. That much you've seen. I've been depressed and unemployed. I've been unsure of my future. I've been heartbroken in ways that I just can't explain to you. You'd understand if the circumstances resembled the idea of love you accept. Now, I've been told that you probably know certain things, and can accept more than I can imagine, and I'd like to believe that was the case, but I'm skeptical. Skeptical in no small part because you felt that the mild innuendo in Forrest Gump was too racy for a thirteen year old. We were all younger then, but that is still a conversation for a later time, possibly to take place in a different spiritual plane.
You asked me in the car one day if I was listening to what John McCain was saying. If, you asked, you would listen to John McCain, do you think you'd be convinced by him? I bit my tongue in various ways that day, because I didn't want to give you a litany of reasons why you're voting yet again on the wrong side of history. I spoke a small piece to you, but kept most of it inside. I rage it all out on Facebook or here, and get tendentious with teenagers and twenty-somethings, because fuck 'em if they can't take it or think I'm a blowhard.
I literally can't tell you that I had my heart broken last year, because a boy broke that heart (and I was plainly asking for it), and you may never understand or accept that. That level of reality exists in a place that doesn't often vote Republican.
You've voted for two criminal presidents so far, and it seems to me that the only thing you could say in McCain/Bush's defense was, "don't you think they've kept us safe?"
I learned a long time ago that safety probably didn't exist, Mom. If you still live in Nixonland, I can't argue with you to get you out of it. My faith in the idea that your giant powers of denial and repression will be able to withstand certain revelations about me is small. You've needed those powers of denial and repression to handle unspeakable darkness that's confronted all of us. You truly protected us from it. Kept us safe. That's how I know what safe looks like. Still, I can't vote with you, because I'd be voting against myself, but how do I say that to you?
There are other reasons, beyond the personal, in fact, a multitude of reasons, many of them iterated by people smarter than me. Here's the one I've been tooling around with in my head, in light of the recent crop of suburban children who are growing up without the skills, drive, or goals to get anything done in this world:
We live in Oak Ridge. That should give us a deep, historical, almost bodily understanding of the way science shapes the world, society, dreams, goals, and fears. Republicans are an assault on science. We assault science at our own peril. Do we really need an arms race to motivate us into outer space? A conservative arms race shook hands with the progressive, scientific curiosity of the time. Thirteen years before I was born, we beat the world to the moon. Little boys and girls everywhere looked up at their television sets and had the same thought all at once: "I could be an astronaut." Some of them became astronauts. Most of them hit the books and became adults.
I'm trying to imagine what this place would look like if minority children of all stripes were to wake up one day, turn on their televisions, and discover that they too could be President if they worked hard enough. That, deep down, is why plenty of people won't vote for Obama. That's why we've got to win.
Mom,
I'm having a very hard time right now. That much you've seen. I've been depressed and unemployed. I've been unsure of my future. I've been heartbroken in ways that I just can't explain to you. You'd understand if the circumstances resembled the idea of love you accept. Now, I've been told that you probably know certain things, and can accept more than I can imagine, and I'd like to believe that was the case, but I'm skeptical. Skeptical in no small part because you felt that the mild innuendo in Forrest Gump was too racy for a thirteen year old. We were all younger then, but that is still a conversation for a later time, possibly to take place in a different spiritual plane.
You asked me in the car one day if I was listening to what John McCain was saying. If, you asked, you would listen to John McCain, do you think you'd be convinced by him? I bit my tongue in various ways that day, because I didn't want to give you a litany of reasons why you're voting yet again on the wrong side of history. I spoke a small piece to you, but kept most of it inside. I rage it all out on Facebook or here, and get tendentious with teenagers and twenty-somethings, because fuck 'em if they can't take it or think I'm a blowhard.
I literally can't tell you that I had my heart broken last year, because a boy broke that heart (and I was plainly asking for it), and you may never understand or accept that. That level of reality exists in a place that doesn't often vote Republican.
You've voted for two criminal presidents so far, and it seems to me that the only thing you could say in McCain/Bush's defense was, "don't you think they've kept us safe?"
I learned a long time ago that safety probably didn't exist, Mom. If you still live in Nixonland, I can't argue with you to get you out of it. My faith in the idea that your giant powers of denial and repression will be able to withstand certain revelations about me is small. You've needed those powers of denial and repression to handle unspeakable darkness that's confronted all of us. You truly protected us from it. Kept us safe. That's how I know what safe looks like. Still, I can't vote with you, because I'd be voting against myself, but how do I say that to you?
There are other reasons, beyond the personal, in fact, a multitude of reasons, many of them iterated by people smarter than me. Here's the one I've been tooling around with in my head, in light of the recent crop of suburban children who are growing up without the skills, drive, or goals to get anything done in this world:
We live in Oak Ridge. That should give us a deep, historical, almost bodily understanding of the way science shapes the world, society, dreams, goals, and fears. Republicans are an assault on science. We assault science at our own peril. Do we really need an arms race to motivate us into outer space? A conservative arms race shook hands with the progressive, scientific curiosity of the time. Thirteen years before I was born, we beat the world to the moon. Little boys and girls everywhere looked up at their television sets and had the same thought all at once: "I could be an astronaut." Some of them became astronauts. Most of them hit the books and became adults.
I'm trying to imagine what this place would look like if minority children of all stripes were to wake up one day, turn on their televisions, and discover that they too could be President if they worked hard enough. That, deep down, is why plenty of people won't vote for Obama. That's why we've got to win.
Monday, September 15, 2008
I Take it Back
He's not our Limbaugh or O'Reilly or any of 'em. There's no hate speech. Just funny, funny voices. He doesn't really score any points here, but I really want him to do a travelling show. With puppets. I'd pay to see that.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Um
At the point which a campaign more or less says the Democratic candidate wants to give sex tips to kindergartners, can we simply repeat the mantra, "One of these campaigns is honorable, and one of them is not"?
Security of Your Shit
Brad Pitt is so great. He really is. I'd like to write more about this, I really would, but for now, I'm just fuming/laughing at their choice of resolution.
How much fun would it be if you could just magically not know this was a Coen Brothers' movie? What fun it would be if, somehow, you could drop in and watch as it slowly dawns on you that no other human beings on the face of the planet could ever tell this kind of story, and obviously this must be Joel and Ethan Coen behind the wheel.
Unmistakably, this is a Coen Brothers movie, which is the same thing but not the same thing as the pleasure of the last one.
How much fun would it be if you could just magically not know this was a Coen Brothers' movie? What fun it would be if, somehow, you could drop in and watch as it slowly dawns on you that no other human beings on the face of the planet could ever tell this kind of story, and obviously this must be Joel and Ethan Coen behind the wheel.
Unmistakably, this is a Coen Brothers movie, which is the same thing but not the same thing as the pleasure of the last one.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Bitch, Learn to Write.
Lou Lumenick, you're a total douchebag, and not even for the usual reasons. Oh no, this time, you're really indefensible.
Update: I suppose the auto de fe I called for on Twitter earlier today will be unnecessary.
Update: I suppose the auto de fe I called for on Twitter earlier today will be unnecessary.
Oh, I Agree
Ebes nearly drops trow for Bill Clinton, who, unlike our not-much-longer-President, actually went to the movies, or more accurately, had them sent to, you know, his house.
Warning: I don't know who transcribed the interview, but I'm guessing Emerson.
Warning: I don't know who transcribed the interview, but I'm guessing Emerson.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Yes.
I know. It's Keith Olbermann. He could easily be accused of being our Rush Limbaugh or Bill O'Reilly. Except, I strongly disagree; Olbermann doesn't shout people down. Rush Limbaugh is a racist, fat old tyrant, but Olbermann, with his bloviating theatricality, his Kabuki-Liberalism, is sometimes, certainly in this case, the only one daring enough in the national media to loudly say some things that need to be said.
The McCain campaign should be ashamed. I remember what I felt on 9/11, assholes. It doesn't change the fact that you're absolutely wrong. Who would use an Al Qaeda recruitment video to win a Presidential Campaign in the U.S.?
The McCain campaign should be ashamed. I remember what I felt on 9/11, assholes. It doesn't change the fact that you're absolutely wrong. Who would use an Al Qaeda recruitment video to win a Presidential Campaign in the U.S.?
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
ACK!
I'm not going to overdo it. I'm trying not to. But the number one reason I rush to Twitter or Facebook whenever I turn on the teevee, is because there are things that should be shouted at top volume during this campaign that are not being shouted, chief among them, regarding "executive experience" or lack thereof:
You yelping, groaning, backwards, hee-haw IDIOTS (and Mom and Granny, who are not in your low-ness) nominated George W. Bush and voted for him twice. If you want to be taken seriously on the "experience" issue, please make it a habit to not vote for a candidate who can't find his own ass in the dark with the aid of both hands and a flashlight. Kthxbai.
That's my campaign speech. Shut the fuck up and vote for an adult. I'm sorry, is that partisan?
You yelping, groaning, backwards, hee-haw IDIOTS (and Mom and Granny, who are not in your low-ness) nominated George W. Bush and voted for him twice. If you want to be taken seriously on the "experience" issue, please make it a habit to not vote for a candidate who can't find his own ass in the dark with the aid of both hands and a flashlight. Kthxbai.
That's my campaign speech. Shut the fuck up and vote for an adult. I'm sorry, is that partisan?
Divine Normal
I once saw a person experience this, and not just on youtube. I've never taken a drug that could do that to you and let you go in five minutes flat. Point of fact, I've never taken that many drugs at all. Could point on one hand the number of times.
Here's where I straddle the fence: Drugs. I don't believe anyone has the right to tell me what to put in my body, be it hallucinogenic or otherwise, and on and on. I also don't push at all for it to be decriminalized. We're not ready for that, and most of 'em are too dangerous anyway. If I had my way, yeah sure, but I don't really care. Seems like the more therapeutic ones are destined to be the stuff of adolescent thrill-seeking or instant levity.
Why am I bringing this up?
Because, I am now one of two people I know personally (that I'm aware of, OK?) who's seen McCabe & Mrs. Miller, and I'm pretty sure it's a schedule 1 narcotic. It ends on a note of perfect exaltation belying great pain, an exaltation no doubt brought about by Miller's (Julie Christie's) opium use. I won't explain or spoil what drives her to it at the very end.
Suffice it to say, stare into an Altman film long enough, and it can pull you out of your own pain or problems, possibly help you contemplate the value of people and some value in yourself you may be missing. In short, his films have a restorative property, albeit experienced finitely.
Wander through the amniotic settings of his films, just for a bit. Everything's seen in a kind of liquid. Safe. It's like floating without floating, all without dulling yourself through overuse of your particular fix.
Altman himself was certainly no stranger to frequent drug use, I know, but we reap unusual benefits from the explorations he took into the palaces of his mind.
Pauline Kael wrote of McCabe & Mrs. Miller:
Can an American director get by with a movie as personal as this--personal not as in "personal statement" but in the sense of giving form to his own feelings, some not quite defined, just barely suggested? A movie like this isn't made by winging it...
Altman at his best was never just winging it. He's our shamen, he's there for our spiritual assistance to this day, even when his films show clear contempt for human pettiness. That's all surface dressing for him, part of the display, the movement. We really shouldn't waste the truly beneficial highs. There are so few of them. Here's one.
Here's where I straddle the fence: Drugs. I don't believe anyone has the right to tell me what to put in my body, be it hallucinogenic or otherwise, and on and on. I also don't push at all for it to be decriminalized. We're not ready for that, and most of 'em are too dangerous anyway. If I had my way, yeah sure, but I don't really care. Seems like the more therapeutic ones are destined to be the stuff of adolescent thrill-seeking or instant levity.
Why am I bringing this up?
Because, I am now one of two people I know personally (that I'm aware of, OK?) who's seen McCabe & Mrs. Miller, and I'm pretty sure it's a schedule 1 narcotic. It ends on a note of perfect exaltation belying great pain, an exaltation no doubt brought about by Miller's (Julie Christie's) opium use. I won't explain or spoil what drives her to it at the very end.
Suffice it to say, stare into an Altman film long enough, and it can pull you out of your own pain or problems, possibly help you contemplate the value of people and some value in yourself you may be missing. In short, his films have a restorative property, albeit experienced finitely.
Wander through the amniotic settings of his films, just for a bit. Everything's seen in a kind of liquid. Safe. It's like floating without floating, all without dulling yourself through overuse of your particular fix.
Altman himself was certainly no stranger to frequent drug use, I know, but we reap unusual benefits from the explorations he took into the palaces of his mind.
Pauline Kael wrote of McCabe & Mrs. Miller:
Can an American director get by with a movie as personal as this--personal not as in "personal statement" but in the sense of giving form to his own feelings, some not quite defined, just barely suggested? A movie like this isn't made by winging it...
Altman at his best was never just winging it. He's our shamen, he's there for our spiritual assistance to this day, even when his films show clear contempt for human pettiness. That's all surface dressing for him, part of the display, the movement. We really shouldn't waste the truly beneficial highs. There are so few of them. Here's one.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
A List
- I managed to alienate a few conservative friends this week writing a shaken note on Facebook during Wednesday's Republican Roll-Call of hate speech.
- Obviously I didn't believe it had a snowball's chance in hell of convincing anybody not already convinced that a Palin/Dead Guy administration would destroy this country once and for all.
- I wondered even as I was posting it if I was going too far, since people don't want to be told who to vote for and some often don't even reveal their own political views because they'd rather just be friends. Plus, who the hell do I think I am?
- I saw a handful of friends comment (on facebook) on the RNC during its scoffing at public service, hating on gays, and its keeping the 'N' word out of the air solely due to political correctness constraints. Mostly, though, I've seen much more numerous comment about how the new facebook sucks, and even saw one group extolling our need to "come together" to force them to keep it the way it is. That's what we need to come together on?
- I don't know if it's because we're over-saturated with politics and everybody's already made up their minds, or if people really, really don't care. I'm sure it's a different answer for everyone. I'm making no judgments, since I can't conclude anything from any of that.
- I have an endless desire to see film criticism at once as sophisticated as it used to be and much more popular than it is now.
- I'm about to be (possibly) the only person I know who's seen McCabe and Mrs. Miller.
- These things is all true.
- Obviously I didn't believe it had a snowball's chance in hell of convincing anybody not already convinced that a Palin/Dead Guy administration would destroy this country once and for all.
- I wondered even as I was posting it if I was going too far, since people don't want to be told who to vote for and some often don't even reveal their own political views because they'd rather just be friends. Plus, who the hell do I think I am?
- I saw a handful of friends comment (on facebook) on the RNC during its scoffing at public service, hating on gays, and its keeping the 'N' word out of the air solely due to political correctness constraints. Mostly, though, I've seen much more numerous comment about how the new facebook sucks, and even saw one group extolling our need to "come together" to force them to keep it the way it is. That's what we need to come together on?
- I don't know if it's because we're over-saturated with politics and everybody's already made up their minds, or if people really, really don't care. I'm sure it's a different answer for everyone. I'm making no judgments, since I can't conclude anything from any of that.
- I have an endless desire to see film criticism at once as sophisticated as it used to be and much more popular than it is now.
- I'm about to be (possibly) the only person I know who's seen McCabe and Mrs. Miller.
- These things is all true.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Dear Rich White Millionaires
Hi, please don't pretend you're not a part of the elite, and stop calling me a part of the elite just because I don't vote to protect your pocketbook, prohibiting you from affording the gold flavored cocaine that most certainly floats around your parties. I'm unemployed, lived off the dole to go school, and am currently looking into graduate school with an eye towards making not nearly as much money as you.
Shut the fuck up and then die in a fire.
Love,
An Ethicist.
Shut the fuck up and then die in a fire.
Love,
An Ethicist.
America Needs a Grownup
So, let me get this straight (Political Post a175b0):
John Kerry runs for President and his war record is smeared in ways both shameless and downright mendacious, but General Wesley Clark is vilified for daring to suggest that a stay at the Hanoi Hilton does not a President make? Clark's statement was reasoned and saintly compared to what they did to John Kerry. It's also meritorious on account of it being, you know, true.
Also, what kind of President would McCain make if he's enough of a fucking 72 year old man-child to cancel Larry King over this?
Let's vote for Grownups in 2008.
John Kerry runs for President and his war record is smeared in ways both shameless and downright mendacious, but General Wesley Clark is vilified for daring to suggest that a stay at the Hanoi Hilton does not a President make? Clark's statement was reasoned and saintly compared to what they did to John Kerry. It's also meritorious on account of it being, you know, true.
Also, what kind of President would McCain make if he's enough of a fucking 72 year old man-child to cancel Larry King over this?
Let's vote for Grownups in 2008.
Monday, September 01, 2008
1989
If last year's award season wasn't enough, it turns out that apocalyptic times also produce brilliant summer movies.
Not that you needed any reminding, but it's worth cataloguing:
Iron Man
Wall*E
The Dark Knight
Hellboy II
Pineapple Express
Tropic Thunder
Hamlet 2 (can't recommend that one highly enough. It's unbridled genius)
Of course, those are mostly the biggest hits of the summer (we've all forgotten there was an Indiana Jones movie this year).
On the other Indy front, there have been quiet films released that included two with Ben Kingsley (Elegy, The Wackness), Herzog's Encounters at the End of the World, as well as The Edge of Heaven, Man on Wire, and Guy Maddin's My Winnipeg. Depending on where you were, you caught these between your Batman screenings, or perhaps you're about to get them.
Of course, I listed three comedies, failing to include M. Night Shyamalan's howler from the very start of summer. Funny, funny stuff, Manoj, and don't worry, you won't catch us eying your lemon-drink much longer.
Most years, we'd have had movies about as good (but usually not) as The Incredible Hulk, which itself was really (thankfully) a prelude to the greatest superhero movie of all time. Before that, with Iron Man, we got the second greatest. Maybe it's better to conclude that we witnessed the greatest Marvel movie and the greatest DC movie that we're ever going to, respectively.
Aside from that, it'd be a shame to forget the greatest animated movie I've seen since at least Finding Nemo, Pixar's beautiful, timely, ethical, mind-expanding visual masterpiece (perhaps their greatest visual work), Wall*E. If there was a film of more character, conscience and decency released in the recent past I can't remember it, and I dare you to.
The industry has attempted to cloud this otherwise brilliant, rich, character filled summer season with mummies and disaster movies and dangerous bangkoks, but audiences for those films have short, stoned, adolescent memories (though Pineapple Express probably served them well)
American films are back.
Not that you needed any reminding, but it's worth cataloguing:
Iron Man
Wall*E
The Dark Knight
Hellboy II
Pineapple Express
Tropic Thunder
Hamlet 2 (can't recommend that one highly enough. It's unbridled genius)
Of course, those are mostly the biggest hits of the summer (we've all forgotten there was an Indiana Jones movie this year).
On the other Indy front, there have been quiet films released that included two with Ben Kingsley (Elegy, The Wackness), Herzog's Encounters at the End of the World, as well as The Edge of Heaven, Man on Wire, and Guy Maddin's My Winnipeg. Depending on where you were, you caught these between your Batman screenings, or perhaps you're about to get them.
Of course, I listed three comedies, failing to include M. Night Shyamalan's howler from the very start of summer. Funny, funny stuff, Manoj, and don't worry, you won't catch us eying your lemon-drink much longer.
Most years, we'd have had movies about as good (but usually not) as The Incredible Hulk, which itself was really (thankfully) a prelude to the greatest superhero movie of all time. Before that, with Iron Man, we got the second greatest. Maybe it's better to conclude that we witnessed the greatest Marvel movie and the greatest DC movie that we're ever going to, respectively.
Aside from that, it'd be a shame to forget the greatest animated movie I've seen since at least Finding Nemo, Pixar's beautiful, timely, ethical, mind-expanding visual masterpiece (perhaps their greatest visual work), Wall*E. If there was a film of more character, conscience and decency released in the recent past I can't remember it, and I dare you to.
The industry has attempted to cloud this otherwise brilliant, rich, character filled summer season with mummies and disaster movies and dangerous bangkoks, but audiences for those films have short, stoned, adolescent memories (though Pineapple Express probably served them well)
American films are back.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Yup.
Why is nobody with a mouthpiece pointing out the obvious desperation of the Republican party? If the Republicans need the votes of people who would be voting for a CLINTON (if they had their way), they're definitely struggling. If they need help securing the vote of radical batshit Christian Right nutjobs (their party base), they're REALLY struggling.
All the while, here's John McCain, reversing his once brave and rational repudiation of the Christian Right, in favor of being the Republican Party Fall Guy. Hope you enjoy it. Really, I'd feel for you, if if weren't for the crimes of your masters.
All the while, here's John McCain, reversing his once brave and rational repudiation of the Christian Right, in favor of being the Republican Party Fall Guy. Hope you enjoy it. Really, I'd feel for you, if if weren't for the crimes of your masters.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Ahem
Still...It's hard not to miss Bill Clinton. Especially the past eight years. Certain aspects of the last post I may have to rescind.
Blast This Woman Into Space, Please
And now, I can finally say, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Clintons and Hillary's supporters have erased for me whatever positive feelings I had for Bill or Hillary.
What was that last night? Why make such a lavish video tribute to a losing candidate? Not that it underlined any specific accomplishments in her career, because how could it? Her record in the Senate is a check list of cozying up to Republicans.
She lost. At a convention to nominate the candidate with the most delegate votes, you make it about the candidate and draw stark focus to the ill-advised policies of the opposing candidate.
You don't give a loser that much screen time. Obama wins, but last night's pomp and circumstance felt like the Obama camp friggin' CONCEDING to her.
He just coddled her and her pea-brained myopic little feminazi supporters. Real Feminism should be a part of a larger, holistic goal. Your candidate lost, people. SHE LOST. It's math, not disenfranchisement. And if the Media was sexist, your campaign exploited RACIAL TENSION.
I'm done harping on this, and I hate to bloviate, but I feel that as someone with no political power except for my vote I'm not jumpin' out of line to do so.
Hillary did bring home points about McCain and the war. She threw a full-throated support of Obama into the center ring. But she also had to.
Seriously, can we all remember the past eight years and get on board with what we're fighting for?
Christ.
What was that last night? Why make such a lavish video tribute to a losing candidate? Not that it underlined any specific accomplishments in her career, because how could it? Her record in the Senate is a check list of cozying up to Republicans.
She lost. At a convention to nominate the candidate with the most delegate votes, you make it about the candidate and draw stark focus to the ill-advised policies of the opposing candidate.
You don't give a loser that much screen time. Obama wins, but last night's pomp and circumstance felt like the Obama camp friggin' CONCEDING to her.
He just coddled her and her pea-brained myopic little feminazi supporters. Real Feminism should be a part of a larger, holistic goal. Your candidate lost, people. SHE LOST. It's math, not disenfranchisement. And if the Media was sexist, your campaign exploited RACIAL TENSION.
I'm done harping on this, and I hate to bloviate, but I feel that as someone with no political power except for my vote I'm not jumpin' out of line to do so.
Hillary did bring home points about McCain and the war. She threw a full-throated support of Obama into the center ring. But she also had to.
Seriously, can we all remember the past eight years and get on board with what we're fighting for?
Christ.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
This Ain't No Wonkette or Nuthin'
But I want to write about this.
But this speech is also meant to soothe her bruised supporters and get them to support Barack Obama, a man who -- for not a few of them -- has brazenly overtaken the more-qualified woman to grab the prize and, in so doing, has writ large the story of their own lives.
More qualified? Was she? Why? I never bought it.
As if to heap insult upon injury, the Obama campaign let it be known that it did not for a minute seriously consider Clinton as a vice presidential candidate, notwithstanding the 18 million votes she earned during the primaries and her demonstrated ability to win over white, working-class voters who remain cool to Obama and who are necessary for victory in the fall.
Fuck white working-class voters. I'm sick of hearing about racist, backwater, West Virginian assholes we need to win this election. If the Democrats win by wooing the Republicans, fuck the Democrats too. What does it say about the progressivism of your candidate if she can win the votes of racist white men?
Aside from the fact that we've had enough Bill Clinton, we've had more than enough dynasty, right?
He won by a margin, but he still won. He didn't do it by demolishing feminism. Get an actual feminist, an actual progressive, an actual DEMOCRAT in heels, and I'll send Madam campaign contributions. Until then, wake up and get real, because if you think John McCain is going to be good on women's issues, or worse yet, you don't care, then you deserve whatever symbolic gulag you find yourself in.
But this speech is also meant to soothe her bruised supporters and get them to support Barack Obama, a man who -- for not a few of them -- has brazenly overtaken the more-qualified woman to grab the prize and, in so doing, has writ large the story of their own lives.
More qualified? Was she? Why? I never bought it.
As if to heap insult upon injury, the Obama campaign let it be known that it did not for a minute seriously consider Clinton as a vice presidential candidate, notwithstanding the 18 million votes she earned during the primaries and her demonstrated ability to win over white, working-class voters who remain cool to Obama and who are necessary for victory in the fall.
Fuck white working-class voters. I'm sick of hearing about racist, backwater, West Virginian assholes we need to win this election. If the Democrats win by wooing the Republicans, fuck the Democrats too. What does it say about the progressivism of your candidate if she can win the votes of racist white men?
Aside from the fact that we've had enough Bill Clinton, we've had more than enough dynasty, right?
He won by a margin, but he still won. He didn't do it by demolishing feminism. Get an actual feminist, an actual progressive, an actual DEMOCRAT in heels, and I'll send Madam campaign contributions. Until then, wake up and get real, because if you think John McCain is going to be good on women's issues, or worse yet, you don't care, then you deserve whatever symbolic gulag you find yourself in.
Monday, August 25, 2008
These Colors Don't Fun
Being around certain members of my family, members that I love and owe everything to, I'm reminded at dinner tonight that poisonous values run deep, and last forever.
Evidenced by the overheard: If he gets elected he better watch his back. Yeah. But I don't think you're congratulating him on his bravery to run. I really hope you don't mean it that way, and I don't think you completely do, but....
And it amazes me how quickly Republicans are turning on Michelle Obama. They know they're probably going to lose. Now there's a new ambitious woman to hate. Is she ambitious? Or just honest and hard working? She worked her ass off and fought some pretty tough odds to get her education.
I never understood that Jewish character in Schindler's List who was working for the Germans in Krakow. I still don't get it.
If America means the Republican party and only the Republican party, I'm moved to exclaim to certain members of my family that that's grounds to raze America right to the ground and bring it out of the ashes into a new Republic, founded on decency.
I don't want that to be necessary, but I'm moved to imagine it when I hear things like I've been hearing lately. The decimation of our society may happen anyway.
Evidenced by the overheard: If he gets elected he better watch his back. Yeah. But I don't think you're congratulating him on his bravery to run. I really hope you don't mean it that way, and I don't think you completely do, but....
And it amazes me how quickly Republicans are turning on Michelle Obama. They know they're probably going to lose. Now there's a new ambitious woman to hate. Is she ambitious? Or just honest and hard working? She worked her ass off and fought some pretty tough odds to get her education.
I never understood that Jewish character in Schindler's List who was working for the Germans in Krakow. I still don't get it.
If America means the Republican party and only the Republican party, I'm moved to exclaim to certain members of my family that that's grounds to raze America right to the ground and bring it out of the ashes into a new Republic, founded on decency.
I don't want that to be necessary, but I'm moved to imagine it when I hear things like I've been hearing lately. The decimation of our society may happen anyway.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
...The Youngling
I finally caught Darabont's Mist.
I'm having a very hard time with this one. It's the scariest movie I've seen in a long time. Really, it's horrifying. It's a Stephen King adaptation that works, which is certainly unusual, if you check the track record. The character actors are all character-actoring the hell out of it. I excuse the idiot characters and the over-the-top culty evangelist Marcia Gay Harden character, precisely because they both act and sound Stephen King pitch-perfect. Darabont gets Stephen King. He caresses all the Kingy details, even though it's the clunkiest first fifteen minutes of a movie ever.
Darabont is also a crazed, cruel-ass arbitrary motherfucking sadistic Freddy Krueger of a WTF?!!! movie-ending audience punishing bald bitch.
That's all I have to say about that.
Addendum: Actually, no, it's not. I had a chance to see this in its intended black and white version, and judging by my memory of certain shots I've seen of it in color, that choice enhances the experience in many subtle ways. See it that way, it really works.
I'm having a very hard time with this one. It's the scariest movie I've seen in a long time. Really, it's horrifying. It's a Stephen King adaptation that works, which is certainly unusual, if you check the track record. The character actors are all character-actoring the hell out of it. I excuse the idiot characters and the over-the-top culty evangelist Marcia Gay Harden character, precisely because they both act and sound Stephen King pitch-perfect. Darabont gets Stephen King. He caresses all the Kingy details, even though it's the clunkiest first fifteen minutes of a movie ever.
Darabont is also a crazed, cruel-ass arbitrary motherfucking sadistic Freddy Krueger of a WTF?!!! movie-ending audience punishing bald bitch.
That's all I have to say about that.
Addendum: Actually, no, it's not. I had a chance to see this in its intended black and white version, and judging by my memory of certain shots I've seen of it in color, that choice enhances the experience in many subtle ways. See it that way, it really works.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
OMG Now I Want To Be Olbermanned
...So long as he cuts the Good Night and Good Luck affectation. Forever.
Ahem.
This is just for that first part about Hannity and Limbaugh.
Ahem.
This is just for that first part about Hannity and Limbaugh.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Swift Boat This
If the Republicans need the Swift Boat creep to win....Well.... in a good world, that would be enough to prove that they need to be fired.
As it is, 1)Obama being a Muslim or connected to Muslims wouldn't stop me from voting for him in the first place, and 2)
In exploring Mr. Obama’s denials that he had been present for the more incendiary sermons of his former pastor, the Rev. Jeremiah A. Wright Jr., Mr. Corsi cites a report on the conservative Web site NewsMax.com that Mr. Obama had attended a sermon on July 22, 2007, in which Mr. Wright blamed “the ‘white arrogance’ of America’s Caucasian majority for the world’s suffering, especially the oppression of blacks.”
Click on the above article and you'll see the lie of Obama's attendance at that sermon cleared up.
But, actually, I dunno if it's America's Caucasian majority and that alone that's responsible for all the world's suffering, but I'm not sure you can dispute that last part, there. At least here.
And you, Hillary supporters:
1)The gays: I'm throwin' you back to Hillary. I don't take sloppy seconds, genderqueers. Also, what was her vocal platform for us, again? I can't remember her supporting us in a full or deep throated fashion.
2)The women: No one could blame you for your fervor, but if you're willing to sacrifice a crucial election to conservatives simply to achieve your own empowerment, you deserve not the actual feminist candidate you will probably get thanks to Hillary's historic bid.
As it is, 1)Obama being a Muslim or connected to Muslims wouldn't stop me from voting for him in the first place, and 2)
In exploring Mr. Obama’s denials that he had been present for the more incendiary sermons of his former pastor, the Rev. Jeremiah A. Wright Jr., Mr. Corsi cites a report on the conservative Web site NewsMax.com that Mr. Obama had attended a sermon on July 22, 2007, in which Mr. Wright blamed “the ‘white arrogance’ of America’s Caucasian majority for the world’s suffering, especially the oppression of blacks.”
Click on the above article and you'll see the lie of Obama's attendance at that sermon cleared up.
But, actually, I dunno if it's America's Caucasian majority and that alone that's responsible for all the world's suffering, but I'm not sure you can dispute that last part, there. At least here.
And you, Hillary supporters:
1)The gays: I'm throwin' you back to Hillary. I don't take sloppy seconds, genderqueers. Also, what was her vocal platform for us, again? I can't remember her supporting us in a full or deep throated fashion.
2)The women: No one could blame you for your fervor, but if you're willing to sacrifice a crucial election to conservatives simply to achieve your own empowerment, you deserve not the actual feminist candidate you will probably get thanks to Hillary's historic bid.
Love Games
You know, I expected much worse than hits from Newcastle Upon Tyne from the last post. General Chang has apparently possessed the minds of peoples the world over.
In the spirit of making things even more inscrutable, as well as insuring that my website doesn't just languish as that donkey-fucking blog:
This is my most favorite mashup, lately.
In the spirit of making things even more inscrutable, as well as insuring that my website doesn't just languish as that donkey-fucking blog:
This is my most favorite mashup, lately.
Monday, July 28, 2008
For The Googles
I've been getting a lot of hits for this image, so here's a little test:
THIS MAN FUCKED A DONKEY.
Bring it on, sexual-starved internets.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
I Really Don't Know
...If it's too early to say this, if making these points would politicize a disaster. I'm not a politician, so I'll take a chance.
It's infuriating that our Supreme Court just ruled as it did. It's nothing new that the attitude that prevails in this country is that gun ownership should not be HEAVILY regulated.
Not that crazy ass, stupid murder and violence like this won't take place after severe regulation and restriction of weaponry, but it might stop the looniest of people from doing anything but offing themselves in the future. When was the last time you heard about seven people stabbed in a church?
This happens all the time, and it's no surprise, even this close to home. How terrible.
Churches and schools are supposed to be sanctuaries. And we just let any fucking wackjob who wants to buy a gun do so because of an ad hominem attitude that coalesced around a revolutionary war fought with muskets a thousand years ago.
What sucks the most is that nothing transpiring today nor contemplated in its aftermath is a surprise to anyone at all, and moreover, nothing will change.
But by Golly, if Joe Crazy can shoot the liberals, professors, fags, and atheists, then I can gosh damned darnit buy a daggum gun too!
It's infuriating that our Supreme Court just ruled as it did. It's nothing new that the attitude that prevails in this country is that gun ownership should not be HEAVILY regulated.
Not that crazy ass, stupid murder and violence like this won't take place after severe regulation and restriction of weaponry, but it might stop the looniest of people from doing anything but offing themselves in the future. When was the last time you heard about seven people stabbed in a church?
This happens all the time, and it's no surprise, even this close to home. How terrible.
Churches and schools are supposed to be sanctuaries. And we just let any fucking wackjob who wants to buy a gun do so because of an ad hominem attitude that coalesced around a revolutionary war fought with muskets a thousand years ago.
What sucks the most is that nothing transpiring today nor contemplated in its aftermath is a surprise to anyone at all, and moreover, nothing will change.
But by Golly, if Joe Crazy can shoot the liberals, professors, fags, and atheists, then I can gosh damned darnit buy a daggum gun too!
Friday, July 25, 2008
The Balcony is Closed
This would be sadder news if not for the fact that, due to unfortunate circumstances, Ebert and Roeper has just been Roeper and Other Guy for awhile.
A.O. Scott getting his own show would just be surreal, but if he'd mud wrestle with Manohla each night, I'd watch.
I haven't watched the show very much since Ebert's illness, and have always felt saddened at how over-matched Roeper was since he joined after Siskel's death in '99. I have to admit, though, that the show always had its drawbacks, and I've never enjoyed Ebert's upthrusting/downdangling-appendage-persona as much as his print one. It strikes me that the nuances of his various observations are lost when he's arguing with someone. Truly, I preferred the show to his print reviews only when he was wrong about a movie, and Siskel (or one of Siskel's various replacements pre-Roep-a-dope) was there to fight him.
Love you, Roger, though you never got it right on Fight Club, Crash or almost any Terry Gilliam film. Sorry to see your baby go off the air, in spite of what I just said. Always dreamed I'd be up there arguing with you, but I'll count my blessings you're still writing now.
It was Truffaut who said that he sometimes never even could tell you what a movie was about after the first time he saw it, due to being overwhelmed by the sensory experience of watching it.
I've had a lot of people tell me they think you're awarding too many stars to too many movies lately, and I keep telling them that you're elated to be alive and watching movies in the first place. Right now's the best time I can remember to be covering this beat, and I'm with those who are damn-crazy righteously, heedlessly blinded by their love of the incandescent arts.
To quote (or perhaps paraphrase) you, Roger: "How easily we become accustomed to wonders."
A.O. Scott getting his own show would just be surreal, but if he'd mud wrestle with Manohla each night, I'd watch.
I haven't watched the show very much since Ebert's illness, and have always felt saddened at how over-matched Roeper was since he joined after Siskel's death in '99. I have to admit, though, that the show always had its drawbacks, and I've never enjoyed Ebert's upthrusting/downdangling-appendage-persona as much as his print one. It strikes me that the nuances of his various observations are lost when he's arguing with someone. Truly, I preferred the show to his print reviews only when he was wrong about a movie, and Siskel (or one of Siskel's various replacements pre-Roep-a-dope) was there to fight him.
Love you, Roger, though you never got it right on Fight Club, Crash or almost any Terry Gilliam film. Sorry to see your baby go off the air, in spite of what I just said. Always dreamed I'd be up there arguing with you, but I'll count my blessings you're still writing now.
It was Truffaut who said that he sometimes never even could tell you what a movie was about after the first time he saw it, due to being overwhelmed by the sensory experience of watching it.
I've had a lot of people tell me they think you're awarding too many stars to too many movies lately, and I keep telling them that you're elated to be alive and watching movies in the first place. Right now's the best time I can remember to be covering this beat, and I'm with those who are damn-crazy righteously, heedlessly blinded by their love of the incandescent arts.
To quote (or perhaps paraphrase) you, Roger: "How easily we become accustomed to wonders."
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Goddammit, AL!!!
Where were your testes eight years ago? Barack, here's your energy intitiative.
Dammit.
Also, this week in stupid motherfuckers:
I won't have this effluvium on my site, so I'll just leave it to Wonkette to get dirty. As if they didn't live in other people's filth, anyways.
Dammit.
Also, this week in stupid motherfuckers:
I won't have this effluvium on my site, so I'll just leave it to Wonkette to get dirty. As if they didn't live in other people's filth, anyways.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
The Chronicles of Beleaguered Ed Norton
So, I loved the new Hulk picture. I thought it was almost as good as Iron Man. I had heard that Edward Norton was having a giant meltdown and refusing to promote the movie over creative control/screenplay issues. Apparently you wouldn't like him when he's angry, or moreover, you wouldn't like him when he senses your indifference to his artistic concerns.
I usually don't care at all about diva silliness from people I'll probably never meet or have to put up with, but I saw The Incredible Hulk with Livia. Our first exchange:
Jesse: Nice locations.
Livia: I'm sure we have Edward Norton to thank.
Jesse: 'This gulch won't do. Don't worry, I've found another--better--gulch. (Infuriated) YOU CALL THIS A QUARRY?'.
Oh, it gets even more one-upsy from there:
Me: I've done blow near better tributaries!
Livia: I banged Salma Hayek in a more suitable bog!
Me: Get this fjord outta my sight! Don't you know I directed Keeping the Faith?!!!
Livia: I was nominated for an Oscar in my screen debut, and you present me with this third-rate brook? it needs to BABBLE, motherfucker. Get off my set.
At this point, I'm having little paroxysms.
Livia: William Hurt's hair needs to be MORE silver! It reflects the vein of cold steel running through his soul! Were you born in a fucking barn? LEARN THE SEMANTICS!
Me: I ask for wispy and you bring me fucking Liv Tyler?!! I said Johansson! Dammit!
Livia: Excuse me? Did you just say cut? I was in the fucking MOMENT and you can't wait to stuff a ham sandwhich down your gullet? Norton have final cut. NORTON CUT!!!
Me: Somebody get Tim Blake Nelson a bib. He's getting MY scenery all over his clothes.
Livia: I can hear his voice.
Me: That's what makes it art.
I usually don't care at all about diva silliness from people I'll probably never meet or have to put up with, but I saw The Incredible Hulk with Livia. Our first exchange:
Jesse: Nice locations.
Livia: I'm sure we have Edward Norton to thank.
Jesse: 'This gulch won't do. Don't worry, I've found another--better--gulch. (Infuriated) YOU CALL THIS A QUARRY?'.
Oh, it gets even more one-upsy from there:
Me: I've done blow near better tributaries!
Livia: I banged Salma Hayek in a more suitable bog!
Me: Get this fjord outta my sight! Don't you know I directed Keeping the Faith?!!!
Livia: I was nominated for an Oscar in my screen debut, and you present me with this third-rate brook? it needs to BABBLE, motherfucker. Get off my set.
At this point, I'm having little paroxysms.
Livia: William Hurt's hair needs to be MORE silver! It reflects the vein of cold steel running through his soul! Were you born in a fucking barn? LEARN THE SEMANTICS!
Me: I ask for wispy and you bring me fucking Liv Tyler?!! I said Johansson! Dammit!
Livia: Excuse me? Did you just say cut? I was in the fucking MOMENT and you can't wait to stuff a ham sandwhich down your gullet? Norton have final cut. NORTON CUT!!!
Me: Somebody get Tim Blake Nelson a bib. He's getting MY scenery all over his clothes.
Livia: I can hear his voice.
Me: That's what makes it art.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
More and More I'm in Favor of Making English the National Language
I'm constantly amazed at the extent to which a large number of people avoid progress.
To wit.
Also, "Polen"
...Really?
To wit.
Also, "Polen"
...Really?
Saturday, June 28, 2008
If This Don't Make Your Booty Move
I went back today and listened to a house mix I did in 2001. The other side of that tape was a breaks mix. Narcissistic thing to do, yes, but I'm in a bit of a quandary. You see, this time, seven years ago, I solidified myself as a breaks DJ.
Now I'm not so sure if I can call myself that. Summer mix hit snag, will be finished. It may not even remind you of Flannelly track selection of breakbeat yore.
This right here, is how I find out if I'm still a DJ.
Now I'm not so sure if I can call myself that. Summer mix hit snag, will be finished. It may not even remind you of Flannelly track selection of breakbeat yore.
This right here, is how I find out if I'm still a DJ.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Miluju Tebe
The Swell Season
Glen and Marketa
Sept 24th
Ryman Auditorium
Nashville, TN
Save the date.
Also, would that any of these stops happened in 2005, by paradox:
27-th July: Namest nad Oslavou, www.folkoveprazdniny.cz - SOLD OUT, support Liam Ó Maonlai
28-th July: Brno, Mahenovo divadlo – www.kdeco.cz, support Liam Ó Maonlai
30-th July – Telč, www.prazdninyvtelci.cz – SOLD OUT, support Mark Geary
1-th August – České Budějovice – www.bazilika.cz, support Mark Geary
2-th August – Český Krumlov – www.festivalkrumlov.cz/aktualni-rocnik/program, support Mark Geary
4-th August – Milevsko – SOLD OUT, support Mark Geary
Glen and Marketa
Sept 24th
Ryman Auditorium
Nashville, TN
Save the date.
Also, would that any of these stops happened in 2005, by paradox:
27-th July: Namest nad Oslavou, www.folkoveprazdniny.cz - SOLD OUT, support Liam Ó Maonlai
28-th July: Brno, Mahenovo divadlo – www.kdeco.cz, support Liam Ó Maonlai
30-th July – Telč, www.prazdninyvtelci.cz – SOLD OUT, support Mark Geary
1-th August – České Budějovice – www.bazilika.cz, support Mark Geary
2-th August – Český Krumlov – www.festivalkrumlov.cz/aktualni-rocnik/program, support Mark Geary
4-th August – Milevsko – SOLD OUT, support Mark Geary
Monday, June 23, 2008
I've Found Him, I Have Jesus in the Trunk
Christmas 1995, first Christmas in Memphis after divorce, so it's just me, my brothers, sister and Dad heading to Grandmom's.
That was the year Dad found and took away the six secret vhs tapes Brock made for us that included Pulp Fiction, The Crying Game, Interview with the Vampire, Hellraiser, Reservoir Dogs, etc. The Hellraiser tape had a George Carlin special which contained this final bit:
The risk I took to sneak the Hellraiser tape out of my Dad's apartment was spurred by the one tape I did get away with that Christmas, an audio cassette of What am I Doing in New Jersey? that I dubbed from Brock's original copy (one of many oxymorons Carlin was quick to point out).
George Carlin turned on my questioning mind. I was thirteen. Perfect timing.
Summer 1997, we discovered a copy of his book Brain Droppings at the TN Tech bookstore. During our middle-of-the-day break at band-camp, we saw a Bible study group in one corner of the courtyard.
We bought the book and started our Carlin study diagonally at the other end. We each did readings.
Me: If you love someone, set them free. If they come home, set them on fire.
Holly: The bigger they are, the worse they smell.
Chuck: Octapus - Eight-sided vagina
We soon had many more members sitting near us, passing the book around.
Thanks, George, and now you know for sure whether there's hope for us or not. I'm sure you're in the big electron somewhere, gettin' high with Lenny Bruce. I can only hope that I'll meet you there as young as you were before you died.
That was the year Dad found and took away the six secret vhs tapes Brock made for us that included Pulp Fiction, The Crying Game, Interview with the Vampire, Hellraiser, Reservoir Dogs, etc. The Hellraiser tape had a George Carlin special which contained this final bit:
The risk I took to sneak the Hellraiser tape out of my Dad's apartment was spurred by the one tape I did get away with that Christmas, an audio cassette of What am I Doing in New Jersey? that I dubbed from Brock's original copy (one of many oxymorons Carlin was quick to point out).
George Carlin turned on my questioning mind. I was thirteen. Perfect timing.
Summer 1997, we discovered a copy of his book Brain Droppings at the TN Tech bookstore. During our middle-of-the-day break at band-camp, we saw a Bible study group in one corner of the courtyard.
We bought the book and started our Carlin study diagonally at the other end. We each did readings.
Me: If you love someone, set them free. If they come home, set them on fire.
Holly: The bigger they are, the worse they smell.
Chuck: Octapus - Eight-sided vagina
We soon had many more members sitting near us, passing the book around.
Thanks, George, and now you know for sure whether there's hope for us or not. I'm sure you're in the big electron somewhere, gettin' high with Lenny Bruce. I can only hope that I'll meet you there as young as you were before you died.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Stabbing People Saves Them
Q. Allow me to liken "The Strangers" to "Hamlet," if you will. What made the sad ending of 1997's "Hamlet," to which you awarded four stars, so much more redeeming than that of "The Strangers"? Both movies featured complicated, multidimensional and human characters, who, through trials and tribulations, suffered and ultimately were killed. Both films were superbly acted, filmed and directed, and I find the endings to be very similar.
So what about the end of "The Strangers" made it be a 1½-star movie while Hamlet got four? Wasn't "The Strangers" also more about the feelings of the two main characters, and the wrenching sympathy to be felt for them?
Kyle Strand, Louisville, Ky.
A. I think it had a lot to do with everything that happened before the ends of the two films.
- Roger Ebert's Answer Man column
So what about the end of "The Strangers" made it be a 1½-star movie while Hamlet got four? Wasn't "The Strangers" also more about the feelings of the two main characters, and the wrenching sympathy to be felt for them?
Kyle Strand, Louisville, Ky.
A. I think it had a lot to do with everything that happened before the ends of the two films.
- Roger Ebert's Answer Man column
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Jonestown, Pennsylvania
There be spoilers here, though I daresay you have better movies to see....
Two years ago I razed M. Night Shyamalan's filmic stalks to the ground. The vision and humor of his previous films, (even, yes by God The Village, with all its terrific imagery, albeit at odds with failure) had been abandoned entirely. A film of immense inanity, quixotism, arrogance, fingernails-on-a-chalkboard character choices, unbearably awful cadences, shrieking, straining and all around badly shot hokum was released.
The director of Signs made me very angry with The Film We Do Not Speak Of. When I say angry, I mean livid. I was up a damn tree (bitch-slapping Michael Pitt for doing Funny Games). How in the world did the man who brought us one of the most moving mainstream pieces on fate and spirituality lose it this badly? And how the scrunt could he be so blind to his own fall? Has he not watched his previous film and seen himself cast up there as a prophet screenwriter writing works too difficult for the current age to comprehend, and wondered if maybe he'd literally lost the plot somewhere? His new film is almost as nutty. Not completely nutty like that two hours of slowly roasted idiocy, but a slew of unhinged sadism committed on the audience all the same.
The Happening starts out awkwardly enough, but it does prove without a doubt that Shyamalan learned something from the hubris of his last film. We start right in on the business of dying, setting the creepy tone, and move on to a fairly articulate and humorous scene setting up Wahlberg's sciencey chops. The scene's playful. Not long after, the movie becomes batshit. Coherent batshit, but sanity guano all the same.
At one point, our protagonists try to outrun some wind. They're chased by the monster, and ladies and gentlemen, that monster is WIND.
M. Night Shyamalan has not lost his talent. I believe he's lost his mind. The film is not poorly made, but it is poorly written. The characters are not characters at all, and they behave in no way whatsoever close to how any human being would ever ever ever ever ever act. EVER. Which in and of itself might not necessarily be a failing, but unbelievable behavior has to be structurally and aesthetically justified. You have to do it in such a way that we accept and embrace unrealistic acting. For that, you'll want to see Tarsem's The Fall.
These creatures speak as though they're talking out of a chick tract, emoting virtually nothing, telling us instead of showing us what they're feeling. The major conflict between the two main characters literally boils down to "I don't like to show my feelings." She shows her feelings at the end. Great. Just the kind of detailed character back-story and resolution of previous action I crave at the movies.
There isn't a moment of tension or terror. Just sadistic images, adjacent to dead air (deadly air, but still boring). The sadistic images alternate between uncomfortable and hilarious. The iPhone makes its film debut here, and what you'll see on its screen may alarm you if instead you close your eyes and pretend you're watching the R-Kelly sex-video on it. Then again, don't do that, you'll be robbing yourself of the most unintentionally hilarious moments of the summer.
There is one image involving trees and ladders which reminded me I was watching the work of an artist. A trapped artist, was my immediate thought following the subsequent death scene.
Why am I laying this all out? Why am I rattling off a list, instead of just calling it a day and deciding that he peaked with Signs? Because I think he's a little kali-ma-shuck-tee-day. He's ohm do she bai-ing quite a bit. And I think this film is a sign that the artist is about to break free again. He came close to making a decent "b-movie".
When he thinks he's being an artist with a capital A we get Lady in the Water. When we get him shooting for "the Denny's crowd", we get Signs, a masterful, suspenseful, simple, beautiful piece of storytelling. The Happening is somewhere inbetween Signs and Lady.
Mark Wahlberg has virtually the only lines of any real invention. These are the few comic moments (totally absent in Lady, unless you like shrieking Korean caricatures) alleviating the badness in this movie, that suggest to me there's a more carefree, weightless talent trying to escape from underneath that two-ton pile of hubris he bought in crazy town.
What it must be like to be such a young filmmaker and to have made two of the highest grossing movies of the past decade, to seal yourself away in your Pennsylvania compound and devote your time to converting actors into cult members for the brief period you have them under your purview, and to hate the critics that hated The Village so bad that you keep making bad movies to piss 'em off more, I can't imagine. If you want us to like your movies again, make them good again.
But seriously, you need to get off the compound, and while it is healthier to channel your cult-leader urges into sacrificing people in a fictional suicide march for two hours, you showed a great deal more sadism and arbitrary cruelty to your audience by violently offing two young boys halfway through your film. Again, you're not castrating them or marrying them to forty year olds at your Amish-style mansion, but that's still pretty out there. By the way, nobody says "get me out of this nightmare" after you blow holes into Abigail Breslin's brother right before shooting the black kid in the head, unless they mean "get me out of this nasty movie right the fuck now."
Scientology can be less weird and unsettling than your crazy-lemonade-lady-busting-her-head-through-the-window, the plants are making us commit suicide nonsense that your crackpot ass has come up with.
This film is marginally better than the last one, and I was more fascinated than angry this time, at times almost compelled, and I could see the possibility that your genius could rise Phoenix from the Ashes out of the fiery abyss you've unknowingly sunk into. Success can be an artist's bulwark. But the first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem. This almost felt like a step towards that admission, here and there, though obviously it's not enough, and what's unanimous around the country (and has been for some time) ought to be instructive to you.
There's misunderstood like Nostradamus and misunderstood like Jim Jones. Which do you honestly think you are? Auteur David Koresh, is that it? As for the boy soprano you're squelching, kindly let him sing again. You were in our hearts as we were filling your wallet. It would be stupid of you to want otherwise, claiming a line from Hitchcock and Speilberg to yourself. They made movies that made money and were also artistically successful. What you got? Oh, Nutjob Happening in the Water? Let's just stay home and masturbate instead.
Two years ago I razed M. Night Shyamalan's filmic stalks to the ground. The vision and humor of his previous films, (even, yes by God The Village, with all its terrific imagery, albeit at odds with failure) had been abandoned entirely. A film of immense inanity, quixotism, arrogance, fingernails-on-a-chalkboard character choices, unbearably awful cadences, shrieking, straining and all around badly shot hokum was released.
The director of Signs made me very angry with The Film We Do Not Speak Of. When I say angry, I mean livid. I was up a damn tree (bitch-slapping Michael Pitt for doing Funny Games). How in the world did the man who brought us one of the most moving mainstream pieces on fate and spirituality lose it this badly? And how the scrunt could he be so blind to his own fall? Has he not watched his previous film and seen himself cast up there as a prophet screenwriter writing works too difficult for the current age to comprehend, and wondered if maybe he'd literally lost the plot somewhere? His new film is almost as nutty. Not completely nutty like that two hours of slowly roasted idiocy, but a slew of unhinged sadism committed on the audience all the same.
The Happening starts out awkwardly enough, but it does prove without a doubt that Shyamalan learned something from the hubris of his last film. We start right in on the business of dying, setting the creepy tone, and move on to a fairly articulate and humorous scene setting up Wahlberg's sciencey chops. The scene's playful. Not long after, the movie becomes batshit. Coherent batshit, but sanity guano all the same.
At one point, our protagonists try to outrun some wind. They're chased by the monster, and ladies and gentlemen, that monster is WIND.
M. Night Shyamalan has not lost his talent. I believe he's lost his mind. The film is not poorly made, but it is poorly written. The characters are not characters at all, and they behave in no way whatsoever close to how any human being would ever ever ever ever ever act. EVER. Which in and of itself might not necessarily be a failing, but unbelievable behavior has to be structurally and aesthetically justified. You have to do it in such a way that we accept and embrace unrealistic acting. For that, you'll want to see Tarsem's The Fall.
These creatures speak as though they're talking out of a chick tract, emoting virtually nothing, telling us instead of showing us what they're feeling. The major conflict between the two main characters literally boils down to "I don't like to show my feelings." She shows her feelings at the end. Great. Just the kind of detailed character back-story and resolution of previous action I crave at the movies.
There isn't a moment of tension or terror. Just sadistic images, adjacent to dead air (deadly air, but still boring). The sadistic images alternate between uncomfortable and hilarious. The iPhone makes its film debut here, and what you'll see on its screen may alarm you if instead you close your eyes and pretend you're watching the R-Kelly sex-video on it. Then again, don't do that, you'll be robbing yourself of the most unintentionally hilarious moments of the summer.
There is one image involving trees and ladders which reminded me I was watching the work of an artist. A trapped artist, was my immediate thought following the subsequent death scene.
Why am I laying this all out? Why am I rattling off a list, instead of just calling it a day and deciding that he peaked with Signs? Because I think he's a little kali-ma-shuck-tee-day. He's ohm do she bai-ing quite a bit. And I think this film is a sign that the artist is about to break free again. He came close to making a decent "b-movie".
When he thinks he's being an artist with a capital A we get Lady in the Water. When we get him shooting for "the Denny's crowd", we get Signs, a masterful, suspenseful, simple, beautiful piece of storytelling. The Happening is somewhere inbetween Signs and Lady.
Mark Wahlberg has virtually the only lines of any real invention. These are the few comic moments (totally absent in Lady, unless you like shrieking Korean caricatures) alleviating the badness in this movie, that suggest to me there's a more carefree, weightless talent trying to escape from underneath that two-ton pile of hubris he bought in crazy town.
What it must be like to be such a young filmmaker and to have made two of the highest grossing movies of the past decade, to seal yourself away in your Pennsylvania compound and devote your time to converting actors into cult members for the brief period you have them under your purview, and to hate the critics that hated The Village so bad that you keep making bad movies to piss 'em off more, I can't imagine. If you want us to like your movies again, make them good again.
But seriously, you need to get off the compound, and while it is healthier to channel your cult-leader urges into sacrificing people in a fictional suicide march for two hours, you showed a great deal more sadism and arbitrary cruelty to your audience by violently offing two young boys halfway through your film. Again, you're not castrating them or marrying them to forty year olds at your Amish-style mansion, but that's still pretty out there. By the way, nobody says "get me out of this nightmare" after you blow holes into Abigail Breslin's brother right before shooting the black kid in the head, unless they mean "get me out of this nasty movie right the fuck now."
Scientology can be less weird and unsettling than your crazy-lemonade-lady-busting-her-head-through-the-window, the plants are making us commit suicide nonsense that your crackpot ass has come up with.
This film is marginally better than the last one, and I was more fascinated than angry this time, at times almost compelled, and I could see the possibility that your genius could rise Phoenix from the Ashes out of the fiery abyss you've unknowingly sunk into. Success can be an artist's bulwark. But the first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem. This almost felt like a step towards that admission, here and there, though obviously it's not enough, and what's unanimous around the country (and has been for some time) ought to be instructive to you.
There's misunderstood like Nostradamus and misunderstood like Jim Jones. Which do you honestly think you are? Auteur David Koresh, is that it? As for the boy soprano you're squelching, kindly let him sing again. You were in our hearts as we were filling your wallet. It would be stupid of you to want otherwise, claiming a line from Hitchcock and Speilberg to yourself. They made movies that made money and were also artistically successful. What you got? Oh, Nutjob Happening in the Water? Let's just stay home and masturbate instead.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Beanpot Country Ham and Hellmouth
Oh, there's more where that came from, between here and Nashville.
Home is where the wax things live!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
I Felt Like Making a List
Just to keep this thing bloggy, and hell, the current summer's got some songs, recognize.
Radiohead - Reckoner
Dragonette - Get Around (Midnight Juggernaughts mix)
Hot Chip - Ready for the Floor
Midnight Juggernaughts - Jump the Gun
Black Kids - I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You
Justice - Phantom II (Soulwax mix)
M83 - We Own The Sky
Digitalism - Pogo (Shinichi Osawa mix)
Bloody Beetroots - Butter
Evil Nine - They Live
Unkle - Restless
Jamie Lidell - Little Bit of Feel Good (Mr. Oizo mix)
There's more.
(K, fine, I really just want Janie's blogjob)
Radiohead - Reckoner
Dragonette - Get Around (Midnight Juggernaughts mix)
Hot Chip - Ready for the Floor
Midnight Juggernaughts - Jump the Gun
Black Kids - I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You
Justice - Phantom II (Soulwax mix)
M83 - We Own The Sky
Digitalism - Pogo (Shinichi Osawa mix)
Bloody Beetroots - Butter
Evil Nine - They Live
Unkle - Restless
Jamie Lidell - Little Bit of Feel Good (Mr. Oizo mix)
There's more.
(K, fine, I really just want Janie's blogjob)
Monday, June 09, 2008
Mixtape Reruns
Holly was bearding for me the other night at dinner (My Grandmother thinks that H and I are getting married), where she turned to me, in mid-discussion of the summer mix I'm working on, and remarked upon hearing I was doing a two-parter that the ethos of the mixtape format had previously defined the nature of the sets themselves.
That is, to paraphrase her, having two sides defined the differences in those two sets but forced a connection between them, and now that's all gone into the ether with the waning of the cassette.
I had to fight back a spit-take on account of her having managed to speak aloud virtually identical thoughts to my own. She's always been my breaks groupie, so I shouldn't have been surprised.
In a fit of summer nostalgia, no doubt inspired by Janie's countdown last week, I went back and found a tape of mine that encompasses the peak of the two sided mixtape mentality (not to mention the height of that era's prominent wave of breakbeats).
That tape was The Gospel of Subsonic Funk
Side A is a fast builder, rough and ragged from the start with a gigantic build to a hip-hop disco payoff.
Side B takes a different vibe, finds more forks in the road, and has no implied destination.
My next set will be a two-parter, reminiscent of that mindset, with an even deeper contrast. Watch this space.
That is, to paraphrase her, having two sides defined the differences in those two sets but forced a connection between them, and now that's all gone into the ether with the waning of the cassette.
I had to fight back a spit-take on account of her having managed to speak aloud virtually identical thoughts to my own. She's always been my breaks groupie, so I shouldn't have been surprised.
In a fit of summer nostalgia, no doubt inspired by Janie's countdown last week, I went back and found a tape of mine that encompasses the peak of the two sided mixtape mentality (not to mention the height of that era's prominent wave of breakbeats).
That tape was The Gospel of Subsonic Funk
Side A is a fast builder, rough and ragged from the start with a gigantic build to a hip-hop disco payoff.
Side B takes a different vibe, finds more forks in the road, and has no implied destination.
My next set will be a two-parter, reminiscent of that mindset, with an even deeper contrast. Watch this space.
Not That I Mind It Right Now
Oh, so this is insomnia? Really? Is that what happens when your body finally starts to feel closer to normal again after six solid months of disrepair? Good thing I'm unemployed! Ha! I can just enjoy this. Get some readin' done. That copy of Vidal's Lincoln feels timely. Want the new essay compilations by Sedaris and Chabon, but my unemployment laughs that right in the face. I have big city to visit next week.
Seriously, I'm about to be bouncin' off the walls, and not to get too repetitive here, but it could be this!
I zapped the pleasure centers of my brain into dullness. So I haven't exactly enjoyed anything for awhile. Now I'm starting to again, slowly, and my body no sleep. No sleep 'til Chicago, where I'm sure I'll sleep none at all!
So, since I'm starting to respond to fun things again, pretty lights make laptop flash and hum mmmm sparkle sparkle:
Seriously, I'm about to be bouncin' off the walls, and not to get too repetitive here, but it could be this!
I zapped the pleasure centers of my brain into dullness. So I haven't exactly enjoyed anything for awhile. Now I'm starting to again, slowly, and my body no sleep. No sleep 'til Chicago, where I'm sure I'll sleep none at all!
So, since I'm starting to respond to fun things again, pretty lights make laptop flash and hum mmmm sparkle sparkle:
Saturday, June 07, 2008
I Swear That I Don't Have a Gun
Holy shit, dudes, it's like I was on heroin! And I didn't even get to feeeeeel like I was on heroin. Yay for scary shit!
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Gulag Reflex
Any homosexual voting for McCain because Hillary didn't make the ticket is obviously fervently hoping never to get married, adopt children or get the same tax benefits as everybody else.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Distracting Pompadour!
That's my two word review of Indy 4.
No, seriously, hold on, lady, we're going for a ride.
I'll start where everyone's left off, as we're all in not so tacit agreement on the thing which does not work:
The A Number One fiasco of this whole ordeal, the script choice, can be blamed on Jabba himself, George Howard the Duck/Star Wars Christmas Special Lucas, through and through. His rejection of four different scripts, each penned by a consecutively more renowned screenwriting hotshot, was his first mistake, never mind the fact that Spielberg gushed for Darabont's draft. If you're not listening to STEVEN FUCKING SPIELBERG when deciding on what script to use for your update of a perennial favorite, you're beyond all rational consideration.
So, that being the case, Jabba Lucas sent Boba Koepp on a mission to find the flimsiest story arc he could to suit Lucas's need to, I guess, computer animate a few more prairie dogs for infantile comic beats.
Seriously, is that it? Did Darabont/Gaghan/Shyamalan/STOPPARD not include enough opportunities for prairie dogs to houtini like Jawas? Seriously?
Never mind. I'd made my peace with that awhile ago. When I first heard they were even bothering, post sunset-riding-into after the Cavern of the Crescent Moon, my reaction was "why?".
I went in with low expectations, and had to deal with the lack of a story, the lack of much dramatic momentum (even Temple of Doom has a dramatic appeal), lack of real danger (mostly). In short, I had the same problems the rest of you have had.
Spielberg had to be tied to this project kicking and screaming, and it must seem to many like he just gave in and said what the heck, it'll be fun.
On to what's good:
IT IS FUN. Ahem. Aside from all those caveats, everyone performs well, and Spielberg makes this thing fun to watch in spite of all Lucas's attempts to trash the experience for us.
I've never seen this sort of thing happen. A director of unmatched skill, energy, boyish enthusiasm and heedless talent steps up, takes a bad script and decides he's going to make it fucking DANCE. And that's what the film does. The script is mechanical, Spielberg isn't. Spielberg's task this time around is to wander through a mechanized cave of Lucas/Koepp's booby traps, and he sorts them the fuck right out.
The drag-race segment is one of the coolest intros I've ever seen to a movie. Spielberg's camera keeps developing that scene and every subsequent scene in such an exuberant visual crescendo I wanted to applaud the showmanship alone.
I didn't feel like it was an exercise for him. He seemed to be having fun he couldn't have working on films like Munich, an infinitely better film though that may be.
There are other good things I could say about it, there are other bad things I could say about it. I wish Spielberg had directed the Star Wars prequels, because he has a better eye for incorporating CG with actors and an overall palette than Lucas ever will (admittedly, the ending drowns in CGI, falling apart almost before it starts rotating)
The first three films in this series are too imbedded in my consciousness to be altered by the flaws of this film. If the SW prequels had been anywhere near this good there'd be many less bruised and bleeding fanboys out there.
I had fun.
No, seriously, hold on, lady, we're going for a ride.
I'll start where everyone's left off, as we're all in not so tacit agreement on the thing which does not work:
The A Number One fiasco of this whole ordeal, the script choice, can be blamed on Jabba himself, George Howard the Duck/Star Wars Christmas Special Lucas, through and through. His rejection of four different scripts, each penned by a consecutively more renowned screenwriting hotshot, was his first mistake, never mind the fact that Spielberg gushed for Darabont's draft. If you're not listening to STEVEN FUCKING SPIELBERG when deciding on what script to use for your update of a perennial favorite, you're beyond all rational consideration.
So, that being the case, Jabba Lucas sent Boba Koepp on a mission to find the flimsiest story arc he could to suit Lucas's need to, I guess, computer animate a few more prairie dogs for infantile comic beats.
Seriously, is that it? Did Darabont/Gaghan/Shyamalan/STOPPARD not include enough opportunities for prairie dogs to houtini like Jawas? Seriously?
Never mind. I'd made my peace with that awhile ago. When I first heard they were even bothering, post sunset-riding-into after the Cavern of the Crescent Moon, my reaction was "why?".
I went in with low expectations, and had to deal with the lack of a story, the lack of much dramatic momentum (even Temple of Doom has a dramatic appeal), lack of real danger (mostly). In short, I had the same problems the rest of you have had.
Spielberg had to be tied to this project kicking and screaming, and it must seem to many like he just gave in and said what the heck, it'll be fun.
On to what's good:
IT IS FUN. Ahem. Aside from all those caveats, everyone performs well, and Spielberg makes this thing fun to watch in spite of all Lucas's attempts to trash the experience for us.
I've never seen this sort of thing happen. A director of unmatched skill, energy, boyish enthusiasm and heedless talent steps up, takes a bad script and decides he's going to make it fucking DANCE. And that's what the film does. The script is mechanical, Spielberg isn't. Spielberg's task this time around is to wander through a mechanized cave of Lucas/Koepp's booby traps, and he sorts them the fuck right out.
The drag-race segment is one of the coolest intros I've ever seen to a movie. Spielberg's camera keeps developing that scene and every subsequent scene in such an exuberant visual crescendo I wanted to applaud the showmanship alone.
I didn't feel like it was an exercise for him. He seemed to be having fun he couldn't have working on films like Munich, an infinitely better film though that may be.
There are other good things I could say about it, there are other bad things I could say about it. I wish Spielberg had directed the Star Wars prequels, because he has a better eye for incorporating CG with actors and an overall palette than Lucas ever will (admittedly, the ending drowns in CGI, falling apart almost before it starts rotating)
The first three films in this series are too imbedded in my consciousness to be altered by the flaws of this film. If the SW prequels had been anywhere near this good there'd be many less bruised and bleeding fanboys out there.
I had fun.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
No Interviews Please
In my doldrummy vacation time, I've read a lot and watched the news. No, really.
This is a fairly dark corollary to this week's most famous political blunder:
"He'll be shot, though, that's his problem. If Jack [Kennedy] knew he was going to be shot, a black boy must know it too." Invited to suggest a motive for Obama's persistence, Vidal offers "Curiosity. Even - dare I use a word never used in American political life any more? - honour."
That's from this Guardian article, and I sure as hell hope Vidal's wrong.
This could be a bad sign though:
This is a fairly dark corollary to this week's most famous political blunder:
"He'll be shot, though, that's his problem. If Jack [Kennedy] knew he was going to be shot, a black boy must know it too." Invited to suggest a motive for Obama's persistence, Vidal offers "Curiosity. Even - dare I use a word never used in American political life any more? - honour."
That's from this Guardian article, and I sure as hell hope Vidal's wrong.
This could be a bad sign though:
Friday, May 23, 2008
Yes, Please, Eject Your Preachers from Our Govt.
If the vetting of these two candidates requires the repudiation of two preachers, one a severe anti-American leftist, the other a nutjob standard-issue Religious Right End of Days Christian Zionist, we're already on our way to a better four to eight years.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Really? A Pandemic?
I thought the year 2000 was way behind us, and I guess I don't go clubbing in Europe much, but seriously?
I agree that trance sounds great when you're on something, but good lord.
Go play the vid at the bottom of that article and you'll see a few thousand people unified in their own lack of discrimination.
I agree that trance sounds great when you're on something, but good lord.
Go play the vid at the bottom of that article and you'll see a few thousand people unified in their own lack of discrimination.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
In Principle
Hillary Clinton has the support of "white voters" over Obama? You mean, Obama has a problem getting the support of down home thugs and corn-pone racist jackasses?
Yeah. Actually, he really, really does.
Let's not pretend this ain't still the same world it was before so many of us Baracked the vote.
Yeah. Actually, he really, really does.
Let's not pretend this ain't still the same world it was before so many of us Baracked the vote.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Ready Ride
You have to discover how long you can live in heartbreak and uncertainty. You have to know how to get to the other side of it. I watched my father lose to it, bit by bit, day by day. Better to go through it now and see the other side, than end up on the losing side. That's the side I've seen, and I must cautiously remember where I came from.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
A Message to Red Democrats
Got nothing against Hillary. Really don't. I understand her need to win. She's a Clinton, after all. She may be the more practical candidate, but what it boils down to for me is that I'm not a Reagan Democrat, not by a damn long shot, and I would like the chance to finally, at long fucking last, vote please god Rock-me-Amadeus for a liberal candidate, even one that comes somewhere close to liberalism.
As bad as the economy is, as troubling as the war is, I'm for literacy, personal freedoms and intellectual curiosity. The conquering of current traumas, foreign and domestic, can only be truly achieved with an overall cultural goal on the horizon. That goal could help us find a harbor for this sinking boat. We've needed some form of striving; indeed, some possible (perhaps mild) elitism has been called for, for a long, long time. That may not be truly inchoate in Obama (or it might be), but it surely isn't in you, Hillrod
Hush, now, poor woman. I would've voted for you with little trouble, and slept better at night with you in office than the wretched Rovian surrogate we've endured for eight years, but I prefer even the most scant possibility of childlike vision over gas-tax pandering and appealing to our fears.
Not hedging my bets on it, but it's time to at least roll the dice.
As bad as the economy is, as troubling as the war is, I'm for literacy, personal freedoms and intellectual curiosity. The conquering of current traumas, foreign and domestic, can only be truly achieved with an overall cultural goal on the horizon. That goal could help us find a harbor for this sinking boat. We've needed some form of striving; indeed, some possible (perhaps mild) elitism has been called for, for a long, long time. That may not be truly inchoate in Obama (or it might be), but it surely isn't in you, Hillrod
Hush, now, poor woman. I would've voted for you with little trouble, and slept better at night with you in office than the wretched Rovian surrogate we've endured for eight years, but I prefer even the most scant possibility of childlike vision over gas-tax pandering and appealing to our fears.
Not hedging my bets on it, but it's time to at least roll the dice.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
What I Give Up
Two videos today, cataloged here in place of my own writing, because I get home at night too tired to think.
And now, just because I was thinking of it, the coolest music video ever made:
And now, just because I was thinking of it, the coolest music video ever made:
Friday, April 18, 2008
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Dieter Dengler Needs To Fly
If facts were the only thing that counted, the telephone directory would be the book of books - Werner Herzog
I'm pretty sure I need to see Rescue Dawn again too. Maybe before Gone Baby Gone. I watched it in some earlier stages of my return (still pending) to normal human feeling. Full-body exhaustion, weakness, chemical withdrawal, and similar fun slices of lemon pie have made every viewing of a movie since November a kind of Zen-like, stoned overdrive. The movies mean a lot to me right now, and I interpret them through a lens of memory and regret (try quitting smoking while breaking your back at menial labor. Near as I can tell, that, on top of other things I'd already been grappling with, has been the culprit of my shortcomings lately).
Which brings me again to Herzog's previous film, one I didn't think of very often, until lately. It's a more or less plotless movie about trapped men, bonded slowly in insanity. That insanity is caused by the need to survive. Memories of cheeseburgers, home and freedom are all simply memories to those men.
When I was uhh... five or somethin', I was looking out the window, with my brother... and we see this fighter plane was coming right at us. I was not scared. I was mesmerized! Because for me, this pilot was this all-mighty being from the clouds. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to be him. I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to be a pilot.
Dieter Dengler, as portrayed by Christian Bale, gives that description of a pivotal childhood moment, one that echoes a crucial scene from Steven Spielberg's Empire of the Sun, where the thirteen year old protagonist sees American fighter planes fly over the camp he's interned in.
That thirteen year old protagonist was, of course, played by Christian Bale.
This is certainly a coincidence, as Rescue Dawn is based on fact (Empire of the Sun is based on a memoir). But Herzog doesn't care much for the difference between documentary and narrative, reality and unreality, and I'd prefer to believe it was supposed to happen that way.
I'm pretty sure I need to see Rescue Dawn again too. Maybe before Gone Baby Gone. I watched it in some earlier stages of my return (still pending) to normal human feeling. Full-body exhaustion, weakness, chemical withdrawal, and similar fun slices of lemon pie have made every viewing of a movie since November a kind of Zen-like, stoned overdrive. The movies mean a lot to me right now, and I interpret them through a lens of memory and regret (try quitting smoking while breaking your back at menial labor. Near as I can tell, that, on top of other things I'd already been grappling with, has been the culprit of my shortcomings lately).
Which brings me again to Herzog's previous film, one I didn't think of very often, until lately. It's a more or less plotless movie about trapped men, bonded slowly in insanity. That insanity is caused by the need to survive. Memories of cheeseburgers, home and freedom are all simply memories to those men.
When I was uhh... five or somethin', I was looking out the window, with my brother... and we see this fighter plane was coming right at us. I was not scared. I was mesmerized! Because for me, this pilot was this all-mighty being from the clouds. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to be him. I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to be a pilot.
Dieter Dengler, as portrayed by Christian Bale, gives that description of a pivotal childhood moment, one that echoes a crucial scene from Steven Spielberg's Empire of the Sun, where the thirteen year old protagonist sees American fighter planes fly over the camp he's interned in.
That thirteen year old protagonist was, of course, played by Christian Bale.
This is certainly a coincidence, as Rescue Dawn is based on fact (Empire of the Sun is based on a memoir). But Herzog doesn't care much for the difference between documentary and narrative, reality and unreality, and I'd prefer to believe it was supposed to happen that way.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
What'd I Miss?
Seeing Jef's Original/Unoriginal checklist on a weekly basis has reminded me that I want some kind of regular feature to write. Jef's cataloguing of films that come from a source vs. films that spring fresh from a screenwriter or director's head is an informative, funny time saver for me.
Jef's feature has a simplicity that would be dogged by my unstoppable neuroses. I would immediately start laying out my notion of the transmogrification of previous materials alchemizing a new and sometimes better, purer work (more original for being an update!).
That, however, would be too complex for such a feature, and thankfully, Jef doesn't muddy up the works like I would.
'Round these parts, muddy those works up I will, chiefly bringing front and center the perennial and but recently turned forty years old 2001: A Space Odyssey
This is a film which, by Jef's basic standards, is unoriginal, being gleaned from the Arthur C. Clarke (RIP) material eventually released under the same name. I've never read it, but Kubrick never left a work in its original state. He went Meta on its ass over what was always a long and freakishly psychic process.
The fact that Clarke was writing his book while Kubrick was shooting the film (from Clarke's primary short story, The Sentinel), and that Kubrick was also working (who knows with what fidelity) from a screenplay that he and Clarke had both worked on, leads one further into a quandary of who got it first.
Which leads me finally to my reason for posting, which was Kubrick's comment from an interview in which he rose to defend his film from its early critical (and often NY based) lacerations:
..I would say that there are elements in any good film that would increase the viewer's interest and appreciation on a second viewing; the momentum of a movie often prevents every stimulating detail or nuance from having a full impact the first time it's seen. The whole idea that a movie should be seen only once is an extension of our traditional conception of the film as an ephemeral entertainment rather than as a visual work of art. We don't believe that we should hear a great piece of music only once, or see a great painting once, or even read a great book just once. But the film has until recent years been exempted from the category of art—a situation I'm glad is finally changing.
I would say that of all the films I've seen in the past few months (it being the whirlwind of a year that it's been for excellent films), I definitely have a list of 'em I believe should be viewed more than once:
No Country For Old Men
Four Months, Three Weeks, and Two Days
Michael Clayton
Atonement (Love it or hate it, it might be worth seeing again simply to figure out whether you love it or hate it)
There Will Be Blood
Persepolis
The Darjeeling Limited
Once
In Bruges
Rescue Dawn
Eastern Promises
3:10 To Yuma
And of course, the one I'm most anxious to relive:
Gone Baby Gone
Jef's feature has a simplicity that would be dogged by my unstoppable neuroses. I would immediately start laying out my notion of the transmogrification of previous materials alchemizing a new and sometimes better, purer work (more original for being an update!).
That, however, would be too complex for such a feature, and thankfully, Jef doesn't muddy up the works like I would.
'Round these parts, muddy those works up I will, chiefly bringing front and center the perennial and but recently turned forty years old 2001: A Space Odyssey
This is a film which, by Jef's basic standards, is unoriginal, being gleaned from the Arthur C. Clarke (RIP) material eventually released under the same name. I've never read it, but Kubrick never left a work in its original state. He went Meta on its ass over what was always a long and freakishly psychic process.
The fact that Clarke was writing his book while Kubrick was shooting the film (from Clarke's primary short story, The Sentinel), and that Kubrick was also working (who knows with what fidelity) from a screenplay that he and Clarke had both worked on, leads one further into a quandary of who got it first.
Which leads me finally to my reason for posting, which was Kubrick's comment from an interview in which he rose to defend his film from its early critical (and often NY based) lacerations:
..I would say that there are elements in any good film that would increase the viewer's interest and appreciation on a second viewing; the momentum of a movie often prevents every stimulating detail or nuance from having a full impact the first time it's seen. The whole idea that a movie should be seen only once is an extension of our traditional conception of the film as an ephemeral entertainment rather than as a visual work of art. We don't believe that we should hear a great piece of music only once, or see a great painting once, or even read a great book just once. But the film has until recent years been exempted from the category of art—a situation I'm glad is finally changing.
I would say that of all the films I've seen in the past few months (it being the whirlwind of a year that it's been for excellent films), I definitely have a list of 'em I believe should be viewed more than once:
No Country For Old Men
Four Months, Three Weeks, and Two Days
Michael Clayton
Atonement (Love it or hate it, it might be worth seeing again simply to figure out whether you love it or hate it)
There Will Be Blood
Persepolis
The Darjeeling Limited
Once
In Bruges
Rescue Dawn
Eastern Promises
3:10 To Yuma
And of course, the one I'm most anxious to relive:
Gone Baby Gone
Mind. On. Brink.
Things Keeping Me Going:
Renewing Synapses vis. smoking cessation.
Ishiguru's The Remains of the Day
HBO's John Adams, with Abigail coming off as much less of a bitch than I've heard (but we all knew I'd go for her)
All the freakin' music. Viddy well the charts, down where it says 'charts'.
My 2 new Gigs of RAM.
Things too crazy to handle:
My synapses renewing vis. smoking cessation (or maybe not. I just know my body's changing to something new)
The never-ending exhaustion I've been enduring since November.
The Future.
The Past.
Renewing Synapses vis. smoking cessation.
Ishiguru's The Remains of the Day
HBO's John Adams, with Abigail coming off as much less of a bitch than I've heard (but we all knew I'd go for her)
All the freakin' music. Viddy well the charts, down where it says 'charts'.
My 2 new Gigs of RAM.
Things too crazy to handle:
My synapses renewing vis. smoking cessation (or maybe not. I just know my body's changing to something new)
The never-ending exhaustion I've been enduring since November.
The Future.
The Past.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Those Black Skinned Blue-Eyed Boys Ain't Gonna Fight No Wars
Fresh off some kind of liquid Tylenol daze I'm not sure I entirely fathom, Holly just had to go and cap off the recounting of her Vegas trip with mention of hearing Adam Freeland's new set.
Go Here to download. Right Click. Save As.
Check this fucking set list:
Billy Nayer - Ship Alarm (BSG Records)
Siriusmo - Girls Rock (Bungalow)
Unkle – Restless [loop] (Surrender All)
Evil Nine – They Live(unmixed demo) (Marine Parade)
Rogerseventytwo – Imagination (Tiger Trax)
Grinderman - No Pussy Blues [Adam Freeland Edit] (CDR)
Adam Freeland – Glowstix (Marine Parade)
Boys Noize - Let's Buy Happiness (Boys Noize Records)
Autolux – Blanket [Adam Freeland Mix] (Full Time Hobby)
Junkie XL - Cities in Dust [Glimmers Mix] (Artwerk)
Hot Chip - Ready For The Floor [Soulwax Mix (EMI)
Shadow Dancer - End Hit (Boys Noize Records)
Alan Braxe – Addicted (Vulture)
U.N.K.L.E. – Restless (Surrender All)
Blake Baxter/Mark Romboy - House Ya [Bootleg] (CDR)
Alex Metric – Pins (Marine Parade)
Crookers - Love To Edit (Crack Crack Records)
Bloody Beetroots – Butter (Crack Crack Records)
DJ Shadow - Right thing/Ztrip - Set off the party (Island)
Freeland – Do Ya(unmixed demo) (Marine Parade)
Map Of Africa - Black Skin Blue Eyed Boys (Whatever We Want)
Black Strobe - Shining Brightstar [Phones Mix] (Playlouder / Beggars France)
Sebasien Tellier - Sexual Sportswear [SebastiAn Mix] (Record Makers)
Breakbot – Happy Rabbit (Moshi Moshi)
Tepr - Midniut Jacuzzi [Data Mix] (Wall of Sound)
Soulwax – Krack [Nite Version] (Play It Again Sam)
Midnight Juggernaughts - Road to Discovery (Siberia Records)
Adam Freeland – Hate (Marine Parade)
Freeland - How To Fake Your Life(unmixed demo) (Marine Parade)
Splitter - All Alone [Alex Metric Mix] (Eye Industries)
Can – Mothersky (United Artists Records)
Swayzak - Smile & Receive [Apparat Mix] (K7!)
Simple Minds - Theme for Great Cities (Sanctuary)
Caribou – Niobe [Adam Freeland Edit] (CDR)
Just reading that caused to stand on end the numerous hairs on my body.
I am Up All Night.
Addendum: Never much used drugs. I don't have to. I have music like this. I thought last year was a peak. Thank God these people got the madness.
Go Here to download. Right Click. Save As.
Check this fucking set list:
Billy Nayer - Ship Alarm (BSG Records)
Siriusmo - Girls Rock (Bungalow)
Unkle – Restless [loop] (Surrender All)
Evil Nine – They Live(unmixed demo) (Marine Parade)
Rogerseventytwo – Imagination (Tiger Trax)
Grinderman - No Pussy Blues [Adam Freeland Edit] (CDR)
Adam Freeland – Glowstix (Marine Parade)
Boys Noize - Let's Buy Happiness (Boys Noize Records)
Autolux – Blanket [Adam Freeland Mix] (Full Time Hobby)
Junkie XL - Cities in Dust [Glimmers Mix] (Artwerk)
Hot Chip - Ready For The Floor [Soulwax Mix (EMI)
Shadow Dancer - End Hit (Boys Noize Records)
Alan Braxe – Addicted (Vulture)
U.N.K.L.E. – Restless (Surrender All)
Blake Baxter/Mark Romboy - House Ya [Bootleg] (CDR)
Alex Metric – Pins (Marine Parade)
Crookers - Love To Edit (Crack Crack Records)
Bloody Beetroots – Butter (Crack Crack Records)
DJ Shadow - Right thing/Ztrip - Set off the party (Island)
Freeland – Do Ya(unmixed demo) (Marine Parade)
Map Of Africa - Black Skin Blue Eyed Boys (Whatever We Want)
Black Strobe - Shining Brightstar [Phones Mix] (Playlouder / Beggars France)
Sebasien Tellier - Sexual Sportswear [SebastiAn Mix] (Record Makers)
Breakbot – Happy Rabbit (Moshi Moshi)
Tepr - Midniut Jacuzzi [Data Mix] (Wall of Sound)
Soulwax – Krack [Nite Version] (Play It Again Sam)
Midnight Juggernaughts - Road to Discovery (Siberia Records)
Adam Freeland – Hate (Marine Parade)
Freeland - How To Fake Your Life(unmixed demo) (Marine Parade)
Splitter - All Alone [Alex Metric Mix] (Eye Industries)
Can – Mothersky (United Artists Records)
Swayzak - Smile & Receive [Apparat Mix] (K7!)
Simple Minds - Theme for Great Cities (Sanctuary)
Caribou – Niobe [Adam Freeland Edit] (CDR)
Just reading that caused to stand on end the numerous hairs on my body.
I am Up All Night.
Addendum: Never much used drugs. I don't have to. I have music like this. I thought last year was a peak. Thank God these people got the madness.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
I Used To Be Much Older
First: See In Bruges. I'm not at all the first to sing about it, but I haven't seen anything quite so zany that wasn't also drowned in whimsy. It pulls no punches, it takes unbelievable chances, and to top it all off, most of it is hysterical.
Second: Two movies I'm developing a larger appetite for:
and
Second: Two movies I'm developing a larger appetite for:
and
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Hope Floats
Yes. Like the rest of you, heard the Obama speech in all its Obamity. His speech was easily the best campaign speech on race the world has ever heard. This is not a small thing.
And then this shows up.
Neither one of them is giving us much but from the mouths of babes, here. I've never understood how Hillary could play the experience card. She hasn't got that much on Obama at all.
Then there's this:
A little disenchantment with Obama could turn out to be a good thing. Too much idealism can blind a leader to reality as surely as too much ideology can.
-From Cozy Curmudgeonly Dowd's response column today.
Obama was forced to examine his alliance with extreme characters, and responded to controversy, trying to confront his shortcomings.
To be forthright is a breath of fresh air after the past eight years, hell, after the past several decades.
Elect him. If he isn't up to the job, we'll replace him in four years. So long as we're making choices bravely, no matter what we're offered, the choices so offered might get better.
He'll still be better suited than Bush, or perhaps, so will she.
Besides, all of the experience in the world isn't alone going to put this place back together again. Experience gave us the atom bomb as well the New Deal.
Obama has the power to move us, and he may very well have the power to lead us. What the hell, let's find out.
And then this shows up.
Neither one of them is giving us much but from the mouths of babes, here. I've never understood how Hillary could play the experience card. She hasn't got that much on Obama at all.
Then there's this:
A little disenchantment with Obama could turn out to be a good thing. Too much idealism can blind a leader to reality as surely as too much ideology can.
-From Cozy Curmudgeonly Dowd's response column today.
Obama was forced to examine his alliance with extreme characters, and responded to controversy, trying to confront his shortcomings.
To be forthright is a breath of fresh air after the past eight years, hell, after the past several decades.
Elect him. If he isn't up to the job, we'll replace him in four years. So long as we're making choices bravely, no matter what we're offered, the choices so offered might get better.
He'll still be better suited than Bush, or perhaps, so will she.
Besides, all of the experience in the world isn't alone going to put this place back together again. Experience gave us the atom bomb as well the New Deal.
Obama has the power to move us, and he may very well have the power to lead us. What the hell, let's find out.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Eucharist of this Our Age
the object in its Journey, comes nigh, among the excursions of Chance, the sins of ministers, the inscriptions upon walls of Gate-posts, -- the birth of the 'Sandwhich' at this exact moment in Christianity,-- one of the Noble and Fallen for its Angel! Disks of secular Bread, --enclosing whilst concealing slices of real Flesh, yet a-sop with Blood, under the earthly guise of British Beef, all,-- but for the Species of course,--Consubstantiate, thus...the Sandwhich, Eucharist of this our Age.
- From Mason and Dixon - Thomas Pynchon
The above was a summer spent reading when I should have been tending to more important things, but either way, I get easily distracted by dense, very possibly crackpot writing, and I had this strange, elusive piece as a part of my FB profile for the longest time, unable to take it down due to a fascination with it that I can't quite put my finger on.
I'm intrigued by theology, by belief systems as they affect society, both the good and bad effects those may be (I find it more enlightening to focus on the good things, since we've been dealing too heavily with the results of bad theology in recent years). I find as much good in Religious belief as most Agnostics find bad, which is a turnaround from the cranky Atheist I left behind from my teen years.
Most of all, I kept the quote up for two years because I love language that can find meter, humor and a wily confusion in anything religious, and seriously, have you picked up a copy of Mason & Dixon? It's like 7,000 pages the fuck long and I'll never find that quote again. Yeesh. Gotta save it somewhere.
- From Mason and Dixon - Thomas Pynchon
The above was a summer spent reading when I should have been tending to more important things, but either way, I get easily distracted by dense, very possibly crackpot writing, and I had this strange, elusive piece as a part of my FB profile for the longest time, unable to take it down due to a fascination with it that I can't quite put my finger on.
I'm intrigued by theology, by belief systems as they affect society, both the good and bad effects those may be (I find it more enlightening to focus on the good things, since we've been dealing too heavily with the results of bad theology in recent years). I find as much good in Religious belief as most Agnostics find bad, which is a turnaround from the cranky Atheist I left behind from my teen years.
Most of all, I kept the quote up for two years because I love language that can find meter, humor and a wily confusion in anything religious, and seriously, have you picked up a copy of Mason & Dixon? It's like 7,000 pages the fuck long and I'll never find that quote again. Yeesh. Gotta save it somewhere.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Auteur Poseur?
"I started out by calling Mr. Haneke a sadist, but it seems to me that he may be too naïve, too delicate, to merit that designation, which should be reserved only for the greatest filmmakers."
- A.O. Scott, reviewing Michael Haneke's remake of his 1998 film Funny Games
I'd hate to do this, but I already agree with A.O. Scott, and must link his Funny Games review. Have I seen Haneke's update? No, I've seen the original German version, and the new one is a shot-by-shot American version, the director's first film in English.
I'll do without. I was propelled, by a fascination with The Piano Teacher and Caché, to see another Haneke feature, Netflixed the original Funny Games (unaware, at the time, of its impending remake), and was thoroughly unhappy for a few days after watching it.
I don't care that that is partly his intention. I don't care that he's deconstructing 'our' predilection for or 'enjoyment' of violence. Nor am I impressed that he lets us know it's all only a movie.
If you want to see acting on a level you've rarely seen, rent the original version. I don't doubt that Naomi Watts, Tim Roth, Michael Pitt and others give performances that are equally powerful, but I know all the twists and turns, and don't wish to return to Hell.
The horror we witness on the screen during your film is borne so realistically and painfully by your actors that it's most certainly hypocritical to deride us for the natural, primal attention we give it in return. But deride us you do. You mock us for wanting them to survive it all, as if you're taking us to task for rubber-necking.
Doddering, curmudgeonly, pomo nonsense like that cheapens both the humanity of your film's suffering actors and the accomplishment of their performances, which, in your original version are considerably brave ones.
Michael Haneke, you make Lars Von Trier look like Marc Forster.
- A.O. Scott, reviewing Michael Haneke's remake of his 1998 film Funny Games
I'd hate to do this, but I already agree with A.O. Scott, and must link his Funny Games review. Have I seen Haneke's update? No, I've seen the original German version, and the new one is a shot-by-shot American version, the director's first film in English.
I'll do without. I was propelled, by a fascination with The Piano Teacher and Caché, to see another Haneke feature, Netflixed the original Funny Games (unaware, at the time, of its impending remake), and was thoroughly unhappy for a few days after watching it.
I don't care that that is partly his intention. I don't care that he's deconstructing 'our' predilection for or 'enjoyment' of violence. Nor am I impressed that he lets us know it's all only a movie.
If you want to see acting on a level you've rarely seen, rent the original version. I don't doubt that Naomi Watts, Tim Roth, Michael Pitt and others give performances that are equally powerful, but I know all the twists and turns, and don't wish to return to Hell.
The horror we witness on the screen during your film is borne so realistically and painfully by your actors that it's most certainly hypocritical to deride us for the natural, primal attention we give it in return. But deride us you do. You mock us for wanting them to survive it all, as if you're taking us to task for rubber-necking.
Doddering, curmudgeonly, pomo nonsense like that cheapens both the humanity of your film's suffering actors and the accomplishment of their performances, which, in your original version are considerably brave ones.
Michael Haneke, you make Lars Von Trier look like Marc Forster.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
My Favorites
Are winning.
Tilda Swinton
Coens
Robert Elswit
Fuckin' Glen and Marketa repr'zent!
This never happens.
Tilda Swinton
Coens
Robert Elswit
Fuckin' Glen and Marketa repr'zent!
This never happens.
Call It
Song
Winner: Falling Slowly (Once)
My Fav: Falling Slowly (Once)
Editing
Winner: No Country For Old Men
My Fav: No Country For Old Men
Cinematography
Winner: Atonement
My Fav: There Will Be Blood
Art Direction
Winner: Atonement
My Fav: There Will Be Blood
Original Screenplay
Winner: Juno
My Fav: Juno
Adapted Screenplay
Winner: No Country For Old Men
My Fav: No Country For Old Men
Foreign Film
Haven't seen any of this category, but will mention it because Romania's 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days is a chilling, superbly acted and directed film that should've been at least nominated.
Best Director
Winner: Joel and Ethan Coen (No Country For Old Men)
My Fav: Joel-Paul Thomas Coen Ethan-Anderson Fuck
Supporting Actress
Winner: Ruby Dee (American Gangster)
My Fav: Tilda Swinton (Michael Clayton)
Supporting Actor
Winner: Javier Bardem (No Country For Old Men)
My Fav: Javier Bardem (No Country For Old Men)
Actress
Winner: Julie Christie (Away From Her)
My Fav: Ellen Page (Juno)
Actor
Winner: Daniel DAY Lewis (There Will Be Blood)
My Fav: Daniel DAY Lewis (There Will Be Blood)
Best Picture
Winner: No Country For Old Men
My Fav: There Will Be Blood
Winner: Falling Slowly (Once)
My Fav: Falling Slowly (Once)
Editing
Winner: No Country For Old Men
My Fav: No Country For Old Men
Cinematography
Winner: Atonement
My Fav: There Will Be Blood
Art Direction
Winner: Atonement
My Fav: There Will Be Blood
Original Screenplay
Winner: Juno
My Fav: Juno
Adapted Screenplay
Winner: No Country For Old Men
My Fav: No Country For Old Men
Foreign Film
Haven't seen any of this category, but will mention it because Romania's 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days is a chilling, superbly acted and directed film that should've been at least nominated.
Best Director
Winner: Joel and Ethan Coen (No Country For Old Men)
My Fav: Joel-Paul Thomas Coen Ethan-Anderson Fuck
Supporting Actress
Winner: Ruby Dee (American Gangster)
My Fav: Tilda Swinton (Michael Clayton)
Supporting Actor
Winner: Javier Bardem (No Country For Old Men)
My Fav: Javier Bardem (No Country For Old Men)
Actress
Winner: Julie Christie (Away From Her)
My Fav: Ellen Page (Juno)
Actor
Winner: Daniel DAY Lewis (There Will Be Blood)
My Fav: Daniel DAY Lewis (There Will Be Blood)
Best Picture
Winner: No Country For Old Men
My Fav: There Will Be Blood
Friday, February 22, 2008
I Say Thee Write Your Own Original Content...
Because I have to post a section of this article verbatim here, in anticipation of the most significant Oscar Night I've ever seen (in my short life):
From The Carpetbagger:
A Critic’s Critic
Paul Thomas Anderson, apart from being the holy vessel of hope and aspiration for critics and cineastes, is known in the industry as both a straight shooter and a barrel of monkeys — someone who takes the work seriously, but not himself. On Thursday night at STK, he did not disappoint.
He was in full cry with his mates, staying late and talking with all comers. The Bagger, who has admitted here that he finds “There Will Be Blood” more admirable than convincing, introduced himself. Mr. Anderson laughed for a while. And then he laughed a bunch more.
“You know you don’t know a thing about movies,” he said.
Um, gee, the Bagger thought, maybe this is the point where he should change the topic to “Punch-Drunk Love,” another movie by Mr. Anderson, one of his favorite films of all time? But the filmmaker just kept laughing.
“ ‘There Will Be Blood’ was the best movie of the year,” Mr. Anderson said. “Except for maybe ‘Juno.’ And ‘Clayton.’ And ‘Atonement.’ Other than that, it was the best movie of the year.”
Um, there seems to be one omission in that gracious tick-tock, the Bagger noted. The one that sent the Bagger into fan-boy convulsions. The Coen brothers’ “No Country for Old Men.”
“You really think that movie was better than ours!” Mr. Anderson said, scoffing. “C’mon, do you really believe that?” Mr. Anderson laughed one more time, clapped the Bagger on his back and wished him on his merry, misguided way.
My original content for the day? Why, if I encounter one more article reminding us of the "obscurity" of this year's noms, I'm going to just drink the editor's fuckin' milkshake. Seriously, I know you have stuff to do, people, but you've gotta be kidding me. Y'all went to see Hayden Christensen refuse to use a damned car door this weekend, right?!! C'mon, eejits.
From The Carpetbagger:
A Critic’s Critic
Paul Thomas Anderson, apart from being the holy vessel of hope and aspiration for critics and cineastes, is known in the industry as both a straight shooter and a barrel of monkeys — someone who takes the work seriously, but not himself. On Thursday night at STK, he did not disappoint.
He was in full cry with his mates, staying late and talking with all comers. The Bagger, who has admitted here that he finds “There Will Be Blood” more admirable than convincing, introduced himself. Mr. Anderson laughed for a while. And then he laughed a bunch more.
“You know you don’t know a thing about movies,” he said.
Um, gee, the Bagger thought, maybe this is the point where he should change the topic to “Punch-Drunk Love,” another movie by Mr. Anderson, one of his favorite films of all time? But the filmmaker just kept laughing.
“ ‘There Will Be Blood’ was the best movie of the year,” Mr. Anderson said. “Except for maybe ‘Juno.’ And ‘Clayton.’ And ‘Atonement.’ Other than that, it was the best movie of the year.”
Um, there seems to be one omission in that gracious tick-tock, the Bagger noted. The one that sent the Bagger into fan-boy convulsions. The Coen brothers’ “No Country for Old Men.”
“You really think that movie was better than ours!” Mr. Anderson said, scoffing. “C’mon, do you really believe that?” Mr. Anderson laughed one more time, clapped the Bagger on his back and wished him on his merry, misguided way.
My original content for the day? Why, if I encounter one more article reminding us of the "obscurity" of this year's noms, I'm going to just drink the editor's fuckin' milkshake. Seriously, I know you have stuff to do, people, but you've gotta be kidding me. Y'all went to see Hayden Christensen refuse to use a damned car door this weekend, right?!! C'mon, eejits.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Of Course...
...none of the previous post means for a second that Terry Gilliam's solution isn't worth noting.
Your Mother Should Know
These past few months have been the most chemical imbalancy, abject, crazy-town, gut-wrenchingful months of a life full of 'em, and I figure culminating stress found fulmination finally in a fight or flight response that squarely found itself in column "flight".
Not, mind you, the kind of flight that makes me reparations for being a twenty five year old with a B.A. in Theatre and no discernible future on the horizon, save for the obvious future of time. Consequently, that flight was the kind which shuts you down and cold cocks your system but good. I ran out of "fight" for the first time in my life, and am just left with the angry.
So we're in recuperation land, have been shuffling there in all possible ways since early November, and who knows what bright patch or dark patch we might land into? Keep fastened your seatbelts, because around the corner it's the end of delayed adolescence land, that white elephantine part of yourself that you've concocted with the help of a Protestant-like devotion to films, breakbeats, literature, intense and worthy friendships, theatre, and other forms of worship that were a part of an ego-involved attempt to be a good boy.
I didn't want to be the next disaster in my family. I spent the next eleven years more or less exceeding that expectation. There are many, many things I'd desperately like to keep from those years, least of which are my dreams. My Protestantism, however, needs to make peace with a personal life of some kind.
This should be interesting.
Not, mind you, the kind of flight that makes me reparations for being a twenty five year old with a B.A. in Theatre and no discernible future on the horizon, save for the obvious future of time. Consequently, that flight was the kind which shuts you down and cold cocks your system but good. I ran out of "fight" for the first time in my life, and am just left with the angry.
So we're in recuperation land, have been shuffling there in all possible ways since early November, and who knows what bright patch or dark patch we might land into? Keep fastened your seatbelts, because around the corner it's the end of delayed adolescence land, that white elephantine part of yourself that you've concocted with the help of a Protestant-like devotion to films, breakbeats, literature, intense and worthy friendships, theatre, and other forms of worship that were a part of an ego-involved attempt to be a good boy.
I didn't want to be the next disaster in my family. I spent the next eleven years more or less exceeding that expectation. There are many, many things I'd desperately like to keep from those years, least of which are my dreams. My Protestantism, however, needs to make peace with a personal life of some kind.
This should be interesting.
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