I’m bored, so you’re getting an update. See how this works?
Finally saw The Last Samurai. It’s the same old broken record of a plot. A man who’s fallen on hard times becomes a stranger in a strange land, learns to appreciate his life again through their foreign customs, and yet, he is also able to teach them how to appreciate what they already have. Yawn. Plot oversimplifications aside, the movie is laden with historical gobbledygook, which I won’t bother going into detail. That’s what Wikipedia’s for. I will say this though, while you’re watching the movie, know that all of those infantrymen in uniforms are raised up from the peasant class. Sure they may be conscripts, but they’ve been given training, a wage, and a chance at the military glory and respect that been the monopoly of the samurai class for centuries. Guys from regular families who finally have an opportunity to match their social superiors. Remember that while you root for the samurai.
Still, the movie is pretty to look at, but that alone is not good enough for a viewer with a decent enough level of intelligence. Even the fight scenes are just kind of average. And Tom Cruise doesn’t die at the end of a bloody last stand? The ONE foreigner just HAPPENS to be the sole survivor? I call bullshit on this movie and need a Kurosawa film to wash the taste out of my mouth. Where’s The Seven Samurai when I need it?
So I guess that was the bad news. Now the good news. Casino Royale is easily the best Bond film in a LOOOOOONG time. I guess it’s a franchise reboot, which, given the previous movie, is probably for the best. Anyway, it starts out with Bond becoming a Double O agent and trying to track down Le Chiffre, a sort of banker for the underworld. Double cross upon double cross fills the flick, and its nice to see a the “building” of Bond into what he is. Its refreshing. He starts driving a POS Ford and earns an Aston Martin. Two actually. And then of course, he falls in love (with the loveable Eva Green), which, as anyone who’s ever seen On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, knows can not possibly end well.
The movie gets a little outlandish here and there, but its all much more believable than space stations with death lasers, guys with metal teeth and a bleached blond Christopher Walken. All everyone’s after is a phenomenal amount of money. Again, refreshing.
And another wonderful little trick the movie does is give all of these dangerous and mysterious characters odd little characterizations. There’s a bomb maker with severe burn wounds all over and the agility of a spider monkey, Le Chiffre has a scarred eye that bleeds blood. We’re never told how he got it. Its not important. It just adds layers to the character, but isn’t important to the plot. Awesome.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Friday, January 05, 2007
No Resolutions
I woke up in a Cleveland hotel room on January first with a mouth tasting of cranberry juice and vodka. I’d fallen asleep with my glasses on, which is how I gauge how tired I was the night before. As the weekend’s events flooded back like the tide filling up Fundy, I got to thinking, first about whether or not I actually threw up some time around 3 AM, and then about what the new year offers. 2006 is dead, just as well.
New Year’s resolutions, when you think about them, are always so hollow. Oh sure, they’re usually things which a person ought to do generally, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to go on a diet this year if you need it, but come on. New Year’s resolutions are a mockery of self-improvement. Its done because its traditional, its something EVERYBODY does, and its just as traditional to break them within a week, and then laugh about it.
I say the hell with it. I don’t need to make a New Year’s Resolution, so it would be meaningless for me to do so. Hollow and hypocritical, so why bother? No. There will be no Resolution just because of the turn of the year. But I do vow one thing. Last year, despite all the shit I went through, I still managed to suck the marrow from life, and this year promises to offer even better opportunities to do so. And rest assured, I will do so.
New Year’s resolutions, when you think about them, are always so hollow. Oh sure, they’re usually things which a person ought to do generally, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to go on a diet this year if you need it, but come on. New Year’s resolutions are a mockery of self-improvement. Its done because its traditional, its something EVERYBODY does, and its just as traditional to break them within a week, and then laugh about it.
I say the hell with it. I don’t need to make a New Year’s Resolution, so it would be meaningless for me to do so. Hollow and hypocritical, so why bother? No. There will be no Resolution just because of the turn of the year. But I do vow one thing. Last year, despite all the shit I went through, I still managed to suck the marrow from life, and this year promises to offer even better opportunities to do so. And rest assured, I will do so.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Halloweekend '93 Part 7
Like Fred Durst, we’re rollin’ rollin’ rollin’, except instead of towards obscurity, we’re headed to Tiny Toon Adventures. This was a hell of a show back in the late 80s-early 90s, but it got overshadowed by Animaniacs, which was the new hotness by the mid-90s. Still, Tiny Toons had a good run, a big stable of characters which were basically remixes of classic Looney Tunes with a few curveballs thrown in, and enough pop culture references to make your head spin. It also hasn’t aged that well, since some of the characters just bleed “early 90s.” Like the valley-girl talking Loon, Shirley. But, they always did go all out for Halloween specials, so this was something to look forward to.
We start out with a bumper segment introducing us to “Elmyra, Mistress of the Dark,” which is basically Elmyra the creepy Elmer Fudd-like girl with a psychotic desire to cuddle animals into powder, in a poofy black wig. See, its funny since it’s a play on “Elvira,” but if you didn’t already figure it out, well, you disappoint me and you will most assuredly NOT be in MyCircle if I ever get it. Anyway, Elmyra plays host to this year’s special, The Horror of Slumber Party Mountain. Its your standard slapstick comedy with a “horror” twist much in the same vein as classic Looney Tunes or the old “Abbot & Costello Meet…” movies, which is fine by me. There’s a lot of that in this episode, which involves a taxidermy-revived Jackalope terrorizing the gang, which alone is worth the price of admission.
Best part of the show: after a bumper where Elmyra says she loves stuffed animals and starts shoving pillow stuffing into Furball, the resident unlucky cat, at the end of the show, when the Jackalope is revealed to have been Elmyra all along and the gang (Buster Bunny, Babs Bunny [no relation], Fifi, Shirley, Hamton & Plucky) make a break for it through the studio walls, Furball is seen rolling after them, a bloated stuffing-filled ball, which for some reason was the funniest thing all episode for me.
Long story short, Tiny Toons was great slapstick and didn’t insult your intelligent too much when you were a kid, so its aged pretty well. Except for those touches that are so early 90s they hurt.
Look, the main reason why I’m slipping in these is that I got Warhammer: 40000: Dark Crusade last week and I stormed through the campaign with the Tau Empire. Its crack-like in its addictiveness. Now I’m trying to readjust tactics for the Space Marine campaign, which is hard since I miss having more firepower than Monev the Gale (Yes that is a reference out of left field. No you don’t get anything from me for guessing where its from, but feel free to treat yourself to some Chips Ahoy in celebration).
Now, this is a complete non sequiteur : Sam & Max is back! Yay! So far, I haven‘t seen it available in a hard copy, just pay download only. Boo.
We start out with a bumper segment introducing us to “Elmyra, Mistress of the Dark,” which is basically Elmyra the creepy Elmer Fudd-like girl with a psychotic desire to cuddle animals into powder, in a poofy black wig. See, its funny since it’s a play on “Elvira,” but if you didn’t already figure it out, well, you disappoint me and you will most assuredly NOT be in MyCircle if I ever get it. Anyway, Elmyra plays host to this year’s special, The Horror of Slumber Party Mountain. Its your standard slapstick comedy with a “horror” twist much in the same vein as classic Looney Tunes or the old “Abbot & Costello Meet…” movies, which is fine by me. There’s a lot of that in this episode, which involves a taxidermy-revived Jackalope terrorizing the gang, which alone is worth the price of admission.
Best part of the show: after a bumper where Elmyra says she loves stuffed animals and starts shoving pillow stuffing into Furball, the resident unlucky cat, at the end of the show, when the Jackalope is revealed to have been Elmyra all along and the gang (Buster Bunny, Babs Bunny [no relation], Fifi, Shirley, Hamton & Plucky) make a break for it through the studio walls, Furball is seen rolling after them, a bloated stuffing-filled ball, which for some reason was the funniest thing all episode for me.
Long story short, Tiny Toons was great slapstick and didn’t insult your intelligent too much when you were a kid, so its aged pretty well. Except for those touches that are so early 90s they hurt.
Look, the main reason why I’m slipping in these is that I got Warhammer: 40000: Dark Crusade last week and I stormed through the campaign with the Tau Empire. Its crack-like in its addictiveness. Now I’m trying to readjust tactics for the Space Marine campaign, which is hard since I miss having more firepower than Monev the Gale (Yes that is a reference out of left field. No you don’t get anything from me for guessing where its from, but feel free to treat yourself to some Chips Ahoy in celebration).
Now, this is a complete non sequiteur : Sam & Max is back! Yay! So far, I haven‘t seen it available in a hard copy, just pay download only. Boo.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Halloweekend '93 Part 6
Oo! It is better. Its Eek! The Cat. Eek! was a great show at the time, even though it could wear a little thin. Basically, Eek! was the most altruistic being ever to walk the planet, who’s motto was “It never hurts to help.” Well, it often hurt quite a lot. In this episode, Eek! (the exclamation point’s there on purpose) is trying to help his family trick-or-treat. There’s two kids (both pretty high up on the “horrible kid” scale) in a chicken costume and they can’t see anything. Eek! gets involved and ends up being the head of the chicken and fails horribly at steering them anywhere good. Through that blind leadership, Eek! gets separated from the kids through an elaborate gratuitously complicated sequence of events involving a motorcycle, half of a horse costume and a jack-o-lantern that lands him in a cemetery that’s haunted by a ghost. A ghost who’s sobbing like Luke Skywalker talking about Toshi Station. Yeah, that simile didn’t work out like I wanted it to. Still, didn’t want to let it go to waste. Where was I?
Oh right. So Eek! and the little ghost set off in search of the rest of the missing spooks. Turns out, through an elaborate series of events involving a witch dressed like a skank, a reggae-speaking black cat, a spooky old house and a very large vacuum cleaner traps all of the ghosts roaming the city so they can be ground into cosmetic powder. I’m not making that up, nor am I going to try to defend that plot development. It’s a little more involved than that, but since this is already a week late, I’m trying to wrap this up as fast as possible. Best part of the episode, Eek! unhesitatingly volunteers to be a battering ram to break out of a glass, ghost-proof prison. Crisis averted and all the ghosts go back to the netherworld when Halloween night ends. Right, the episode was a lot more fun to watch than write about. Now we can move on to the next one.
Oh right. So Eek! and the little ghost set off in search of the rest of the missing spooks. Turns out, through an elaborate series of events involving a witch dressed like a skank, a reggae-speaking black cat, a spooky old house and a very large vacuum cleaner traps all of the ghosts roaming the city so they can be ground into cosmetic powder. I’m not making that up, nor am I going to try to defend that plot development. It’s a little more involved than that, but since this is already a week late, I’m trying to wrap this up as fast as possible. Best part of the episode, Eek! unhesitatingly volunteers to be a battering ram to break out of a glass, ghost-proof prison. Crisis averted and all the ghosts go back to the netherworld when Halloween night ends. Right, the episode was a lot more fun to watch than write about. Now we can move on to the next one.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Haloweekend '93 Part 5
Moving right along, we’ve got an episode of Droopy, Master Detective. I’ve never liked Droopy, with his monotone voice, I’ve never liked his sidekick/son Dripple, and I sure as hell couldn’t see why they called him a poodle since he doesn’t look like one. He looks more like former Presidential hopeful John Kerry to me. Anyway, the “Master Detective” part was more of an early 90s revamp to try and recycle the old jokes for a new generation. At least they stayed with the Halloween theme. The first segment was Droopy and his son having their car break down in front of an old creepy mansion, where inside, a mad scientist has created a woman. Droopy knocks on the door and the undead-woman with the Bride of Frankenstein hair opens and falls madly in love with him. That’s a staple of the Droopy routine, and I never ever saw why women were always falling head over heels for this dullard, but now I think I have an answer. Pheromones. It has to be pheromones. Of course, “hijinks” follow.
After the commercial break came a Tom & Jerry Kids segment. I always rooted for Tom, even though that’s like betting on the Washington Generals, but still, that cat was committed to his job. Shrinking the protagonists down in size (and age) didn’t really help with the “recycle the same old bit” strategy. Oh well, in this episode, we get Lil’ Tom chasing Lil’ Jerry into an old haunted castle haunted by the ghost of McLockjaw. Yeah, I forgot to mention they’re in Scotland for this bit, not like it matters to the plot. Anyway, Jerry finds the ghost dog, who tells him he’s cursed to haunt the castle until a friend can stay in the castle of his own free will until midnight. Sounds like a pretty low grade curse. I mean come on, not even till dawn? Anyway, the curse gets lifted despite Tom’s diligent attempts to catch that plague-carrying rodent almost succeed in getting the mouse out of the castle before midnight, but of course, our ghost dog wants out, so he intervenes and…oh look, let’s just forget about this. I don’t even feel like going over the 2nd Droopy segment since writing this is boring me to tears. I’ll sum it up in one sentence. It’s the same as the first segment, only with Droopy as a scientist himself, the spaz of a wolf creates a retarded monster-man and Droopy creates the undead woman himself. Other than that, same exact plot. I hope the next show’s better than this.
After the commercial break came a Tom & Jerry Kids segment. I always rooted for Tom, even though that’s like betting on the Washington Generals, but still, that cat was committed to his job. Shrinking the protagonists down in size (and age) didn’t really help with the “recycle the same old bit” strategy. Oh well, in this episode, we get Lil’ Tom chasing Lil’ Jerry into an old haunted castle haunted by the ghost of McLockjaw. Yeah, I forgot to mention they’re in Scotland for this bit, not like it matters to the plot. Anyway, Jerry finds the ghost dog, who tells him he’s cursed to haunt the castle until a friend can stay in the castle of his own free will until midnight. Sounds like a pretty low grade curse. I mean come on, not even till dawn? Anyway, the curse gets lifted despite Tom’s diligent attempts to catch that plague-carrying rodent almost succeed in getting the mouse out of the castle before midnight, but of course, our ghost dog wants out, so he intervenes and…oh look, let’s just forget about this. I don’t even feel like going over the 2nd Droopy segment since writing this is boring me to tears. I’ll sum it up in one sentence. It’s the same as the first segment, only with Droopy as a scientist himself, the spaz of a wolf creates a retarded monster-man and Droopy creates the undead woman himself. Other than that, same exact plot. I hope the next show’s better than this.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Halloweekend '93 Part 4 (Yes I Know Its Late)
Ah. Yes. After Dog City came one of the shows I hated the most on Saturday mornings, Bobby’s World. I’m not entirely sure exactly why I hated the show. It could’ve been Bobby’s screeching demon voice, it could’ve been Howie Mandel’s semi-mullet in the live action bumpers, it could’ve been Bobby’s enormous watermelon shaped head. Whatever it was, the Halloween special was actually the only episode I remember liking. The plot’s simple. Bobby wants to go trick-or-treating, he’s too young, instead, Uncle Ted (in an Elvis costume) is coming over to help pass out apple jerky at the door while Mom & Dad go out to a costume party. But Ted’s got other ideas. Using a bunch of household junk and way more cardboard boxes than any household would normally have room for, they construct the Tunnel of Terror. What follows is one of the best scams in cartoon history. Trick-or-treaters can work their way through the tunnel only if they fork over three pieces of candy and a buck. A buck! For “charity.” Bullshit! Now, Uncle Ted was my favorite character on the show because of this episode for two reasons. 1) Actually making this scheme a reality, and 2) Giving a “pretty mommy discount” to one lady who didn’t bring much money with her. Hey man, he means her kid can see the Tunnel of Terror for free, not anything that you’re thinking.
Anyway, the scheme totally pays off and Ted & Bobby end up making several hundred dollars and even more candy by the end of the night and pass out on the couch bloated with candy (and probably in Ted’s case, Beer. Its not actually stated, but the beer gut and Hawaiian shirt imply years spent scarfing wings and pitchers of lager). Mom & Dad come home all pissed off that the house is a mess, and the episode….just ends. It. Just. Ends. I don’t think there were every any repercussions of the Tunnel of Terror. They got away scot-free and never identified what “charity” they were going to donate the money to. Hate the show I did, but this episode earned the hallowed “slow clap” for taking Halloween to ridiculously lofty heights.
Anyway, the scheme totally pays off and Ted & Bobby end up making several hundred dollars and even more candy by the end of the night and pass out on the couch bloated with candy (and probably in Ted’s case, Beer. Its not actually stated, but the beer gut and Hawaiian shirt imply years spent scarfing wings and pitchers of lager). Mom & Dad come home all pissed off that the house is a mess, and the episode….just ends. It. Just. Ends. I don’t think there were every any repercussions of the Tunnel of Terror. They got away scot-free and never identified what “charity” they were going to donate the money to. Hate the show I did, but this episode earned the hallowed “slow clap” for taking Halloween to ridiculously lofty heights.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Haloweekend '93 Part 3
Ok, here we go, the real extravaganza started after Double Dragon. Dog City was up next. Don’t remember Dog City? It was a hybrid animated/Muppet show about a Muppet/dog cartoonist named Eliot Shag (ah the naivety of youth) who drew the animated adventures of Ace Hart, private eye. It was based on the, for lack of a better word, “short film” of the same name that aired on the Jim Henson Hour in the late 80s, which was all puppets and very sweet. I have that somewhere on tape too, but no idea where. This show was cool beans, man. It breached the fourth wall at every opportunity and threw endless sight gags and puns at the viewer. Nonstop puns. Anyway, the show was tremendously intelligent for Saturday Morning fare, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that it lasted for three seasons.
This episode was “The Bloodhound,” and our hard boiled detective has to track down a mysterious caped menace biting the citizens of the city at night. Of course, him being a hard boiled detective, Ace doesn’t want to bother with the case at all, calling all a bunch of hooey. Eddie, his plucky newsboy sidekick is all for it, taking every chance to tell Ace it’s the undead stalking the streets. Long story short, Ace tracks down the Bloodhound and reveals him to be a disgruntled mailman who’s sick of being bitten by every dog in the city every day. Actually, it wasn’t that great of an episode as far as the show went, but still…it was Halloween themed, and I loved Dog City, dammit! That’s got to count for something.
Usually it’s the crazier/stupider shows that are much more fun to write about since they’re so much easier to criticize. You’ll see what I mean tomorrow.
This episode was “The Bloodhound,” and our hard boiled detective has to track down a mysterious caped menace biting the citizens of the city at night. Of course, him being a hard boiled detective, Ace doesn’t want to bother with the case at all, calling all a bunch of hooey. Eddie, his plucky newsboy sidekick is all for it, taking every chance to tell Ace it’s the undead stalking the streets. Long story short, Ace tracks down the Bloodhound and reveals him to be a disgruntled mailman who’s sick of being bitten by every dog in the city every day. Actually, it wasn’t that great of an episode as far as the show went, but still…it was Halloween themed, and I loved Dog City, dammit! That’s got to count for something.
Usually it’s the crazier/stupider shows that are much more fun to write about since they’re so much easier to criticize. You’ll see what I mean tomorrow.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Halloweekend '93 Part 2
After Transformers, its over to FOX for the “not actually a part of the FOX Kids lineup but its still a cartoon that we’ll tack on to ride the coattails of the more popular shows.” Usually (for my part at least) it was King Arthur And The Knights Of Justice in that slot, leading to a lifelong fondness for that horrible show. But not this day. This day it was an episode of Double Dragon. Oh yes, even a straightforward beat ‘em up like Double Dragon got the animated series treatment in the heady days of the early 90s, complete with cheesy Nintendo sound effects.
The premise of the show has little to do with the original game (with its very simple introduction of Billy Lee’s girlfriend gets punched in the face and kidnapped by gang members and Billy subsequently sets out to get his woman back by beating up everyone on the street he sees). Here, Billy & his Brother Jimmy are “Special Deputies” for Metro City’s police force, fighting the Shadow Master’s syndicate of cartoonishly equipped bad guys. The thing is, Billy & Jimmy, who dress in blue and red versions of the same outfit, have a deep secret. Not only are they martial arts masters with their own dojo, but they fight crime as the Double Dragons, mask wearing swordsmen who dress exactly like Billy & Jimmy except for their undershirts mystically disappearing to reveal their double dragon “birthmarks.” Now, birthmarks don’t usually cover someone’s entire pecs and are green with an intricate level of detail. Hmm, sounds more like the description of a “tattoo.”
Anyway, this particular episode starts off with Jimmy Lee riding through Metro City on his oh so awesome tricycle, looking for some crime to bust. Little does he know he’s being watched by some guy in a van through closed circuit cameras, who puts out a call over the police band that sends Jimmy into “special deputy” mode. Long story short, it’s a setup and Jimmy gets arrested by some schmuck named Captain Tays. Jimmy gets railroaded at his trail in a moment that I’m sure would make any law students fall to the floor in a fit of giggling, and gets sent to “Rattica Prison,” (yeah, real creative) a place where they send “mutants AND hard cases.” I guess mutants who ARE hard cases have to go to an even more secure prison, or something. Anyway, Billy gets thrown into a cell with a mutant named Fireball, who meditates a lot since he tends to shoot hot death from his eyes when he gets angry. Turns out Fireball’s not really a bad guy, just some poor mook who got in with the wrong crowd. Hell, the worst thing he’s done is almost/nearly/clearly missed killing an innocent bystander. What follows is some blah-blah-blah stuff about gangs are bad, Billy trying to break INTO prison to rescue his brother, and Jimmy finding out he’s goin’ down hard in the exercise area the next day. What’s more interesting is the fact that even though he’s been convicted and imprisoned, Jimmy Lee is wearing the same exact clothes as he always does. How come the rest of the inmates have to wear regulation prison gray and he gets to keep his shoulder & knee pads? Lazy-ass animators or one of the perks of being a “special deputy?” I’m going with the lazy thing.
Anyway, the episode ends with a goofy fight scene in the prison common between Jimmy & a mutant with a bulldog’s head (man, Metro City needs a “House of M” event badly), then Shadow Master almost wins the day just by talking in his Awesome Voice, then Fireball does his thing to help out, and then all the bad guys get theirs (except Shadow Master, who escapes through the power of his Awesome Voice. Seriously, that guy’s voice is the best thing about the series) and Fireball ends up signing up with the Double Dragons after being paroled for some arbitrary reason.
Ok, weird show. Goofy show. But it did teach a few valuable life lessons. Like, uh, for instance… The, uh, justice system is a lot more laissze faire than the legal community has led us to believe. Seriously, if you’re a corrupt police captain, you can tell prison wardens what to do. Totally. And, uh, something about gangs are bad.
Look I know its not a Halloween episode! I still had to sit through it to get to the actual stuff. Besides, the existence of a Double Dragon cartoon is scary enough. The next show really is a Halloween special, I promise.
The premise of the show has little to do with the original game (with its very simple introduction of Billy Lee’s girlfriend gets punched in the face and kidnapped by gang members and Billy subsequently sets out to get his woman back by beating up everyone on the street he sees). Here, Billy & his Brother Jimmy are “Special Deputies” for Metro City’s police force, fighting the Shadow Master’s syndicate of cartoonishly equipped bad guys. The thing is, Billy & Jimmy, who dress in blue and red versions of the same outfit, have a deep secret. Not only are they martial arts masters with their own dojo, but they fight crime as the Double Dragons, mask wearing swordsmen who dress exactly like Billy & Jimmy except for their undershirts mystically disappearing to reveal their double dragon “birthmarks.” Now, birthmarks don’t usually cover someone’s entire pecs and are green with an intricate level of detail. Hmm, sounds more like the description of a “tattoo.”
Anyway, this particular episode starts off with Jimmy Lee riding through Metro City on his oh so awesome tricycle, looking for some crime to bust. Little does he know he’s being watched by some guy in a van through closed circuit cameras, who puts out a call over the police band that sends Jimmy into “special deputy” mode. Long story short, it’s a setup and Jimmy gets arrested by some schmuck named Captain Tays. Jimmy gets railroaded at his trail in a moment that I’m sure would make any law students fall to the floor in a fit of giggling, and gets sent to “Rattica Prison,” (yeah, real creative) a place where they send “mutants AND hard cases.” I guess mutants who ARE hard cases have to go to an even more secure prison, or something. Anyway, Billy gets thrown into a cell with a mutant named Fireball, who meditates a lot since he tends to shoot hot death from his eyes when he gets angry. Turns out Fireball’s not really a bad guy, just some poor mook who got in with the wrong crowd. Hell, the worst thing he’s done is almost/nearly/clearly missed killing an innocent bystander. What follows is some blah-blah-blah stuff about gangs are bad, Billy trying to break INTO prison to rescue his brother, and Jimmy finding out he’s goin’ down hard in the exercise area the next day. What’s more interesting is the fact that even though he’s been convicted and imprisoned, Jimmy Lee is wearing the same exact clothes as he always does. How come the rest of the inmates have to wear regulation prison gray and he gets to keep his shoulder & knee pads? Lazy-ass animators or one of the perks of being a “special deputy?” I’m going with the lazy thing.
Anyway, the episode ends with a goofy fight scene in the prison common between Jimmy & a mutant with a bulldog’s head (man, Metro City needs a “House of M” event badly), then Shadow Master almost wins the day just by talking in his Awesome Voice, then Fireball does his thing to help out, and then all the bad guys get theirs (except Shadow Master, who escapes through the power of his Awesome Voice. Seriously, that guy’s voice is the best thing about the series) and Fireball ends up signing up with the Double Dragons after being paroled for some arbitrary reason.
Ok, weird show. Goofy show. But it did teach a few valuable life lessons. Like, uh, for instance… The, uh, justice system is a lot more laissze faire than the legal community has led us to believe. Seriously, if you’re a corrupt police captain, you can tell prison wardens what to do. Totally. And, uh, something about gangs are bad.
Look I know its not a Halloween episode! I still had to sit through it to get to the actual stuff. Besides, the existence of a Double Dragon cartoon is scary enough. The next show really is a Halloween special, I promise.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Halloweekend ‘93 pt. 1
Wooo! Its October, baby!
Now here’s a diamond in the VHS rough. I dug out an old tape of Saturday Morning Cartoons (you know, back when that actually meant something). But not just any old tape of SMCs. This was one of the annual, pre-Halloween Saturdays, where you got a whole morning full of animated goodness shoving the Halloween spirit down your gullet. And I loved them for it. The only other holiday to get a regular special is/was Christmas.
Anyway, FOX Kids used to be one of the 800 lb. Gorillas of Saturday Morning programming for a couple years. It had a loaded line up of X-Men, Spider-Man, Eek! The Cat, Taz-Mania (and later The Tick and Carmen Sandiego) and others. It also had some shows that made me want to throw a shoe through the TV screen, but that’s beside the point (and they're probably on the tape) In 1993, the FOX Kids line up was running at full steam and life was good.
Well, the tape doesn’t start with FOX Kids. It starts on a different channel to catch most of an episode of Transformers. OK, Transformers: Generation 2, which was basically the same exact Transformers episodes, only with goofy CG transitions between scenes and a new credit sequence. Anyway, the episode du jur features a couple Autobots and Decepticons getting stuck in Medieval Times, where Starscream almost conquers Europe with Ramjet, Rumble & Ravage while Spike, Hoist & Warpath don’t really do much to help until a wizard kickstarts their metallic hearts with electricity. Warpath was almost a cool Autobot in my eyes. After all, he was a tank and had a weapons system that made some sense, but his penchant for onomatopoeia made him sound like a dork. And Hoist was just a tool with a gun for a right hand. Why? Doesn’t matter, he’s playing second banana to Warpath in this episode anyway. And despite Starscream actually being a serious threat in this episode, his whining and bitching reaches new heights when victory is snatched away from him. I’m serious, he gets beaten about five minutes before the end of the episode, and everything that comes out of his mouth from that point on is whining. Starscream’s a dick.
I'm not even going to start ranting about just how horribly flawed the episode is from a historical perspective, but that's like saying "dolphins can't snap their fingers." Yes, you could go into the "whys" of it, but its not worth the time. More to follow shortly.
Now here’s a diamond in the VHS rough. I dug out an old tape of Saturday Morning Cartoons (you know, back when that actually meant something). But not just any old tape of SMCs. This was one of the annual, pre-Halloween Saturdays, where you got a whole morning full of animated goodness shoving the Halloween spirit down your gullet. And I loved them for it. The only other holiday to get a regular special is/was Christmas.
Anyway, FOX Kids used to be one of the 800 lb. Gorillas of Saturday Morning programming for a couple years. It had a loaded line up of X-Men, Spider-Man, Eek! The Cat, Taz-Mania (and later The Tick and Carmen Sandiego) and others. It also had some shows that made me want to throw a shoe through the TV screen, but that’s beside the point (and they're probably on the tape) In 1993, the FOX Kids line up was running at full steam and life was good.
Well, the tape doesn’t start with FOX Kids. It starts on a different channel to catch most of an episode of Transformers. OK, Transformers: Generation 2, which was basically the same exact Transformers episodes, only with goofy CG transitions between scenes and a new credit sequence. Anyway, the episode du jur features a couple Autobots and Decepticons getting stuck in Medieval Times, where Starscream almost conquers Europe with Ramjet, Rumble & Ravage while Spike, Hoist & Warpath don’t really do much to help until a wizard kickstarts their metallic hearts with electricity. Warpath was almost a cool Autobot in my eyes. After all, he was a tank and had a weapons system that made some sense, but his penchant for onomatopoeia made him sound like a dork. And Hoist was just a tool with a gun for a right hand. Why? Doesn’t matter, he’s playing second banana to Warpath in this episode anyway. And despite Starscream actually being a serious threat in this episode, his whining and bitching reaches new heights when victory is snatched away from him. I’m serious, he gets beaten about five minutes before the end of the episode, and everything that comes out of his mouth from that point on is whining. Starscream’s a dick.
I'm not even going to start ranting about just how horribly flawed the episode is from a historical perspective, but that's like saying "dolphins can't snap their fingers." Yes, you could go into the "whys" of it, but its not worth the time. More to follow shortly.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Zombie Brides And Virgin Grooms! Sounds like a Pellet Review!
Being a currently unemployed cheap bastard, I'm something of a library whore. Free movies are free movies, so what if you run the risk of borrowing one that's scratched all to hell and won't let you finish watching the third disc of Superman The Animated Series, Season 1? Ok, yeah, I was rather bitter about that actually. Anywho, the library's a great way to finally check out that flick you weren't sure you wanted to spend money on when it was new. Last week I checked out (quite literally) Tim Burton's Corpse Bride and The 40-Year Old Virgin (and Shaun of the
Dead, but I've already seen that, I just didn't have time to watch again).
Ok, Lightning Round.
Corpse Bride impressed the hell out of me. First, the animation was astounding. All of the movements and artistry invovled in actually making the movie were stunning. The puppets had mechanisms in their heads that could be tweaked to change their facial expressions! That floored me. The movie looks great. Its also a musical, just so we're clear on that. The cast was also pretty solid, all around, (yes it has Johnny Depp in it as Victor) but Helena Bonham Carter carried the movie away as the Corpse Bride. Also, I have to give props to the movie for making an undead zombie woman so strangely, well, 'cute' I guess is the only word that comes to mind without someone inferring necrophilia. Now I feel dirty.
40 Year Old Virgin came out to a lot of hooplah last year. Its a filthy-mouthed comedy, certainly, but novel enough to make it work. Yes, its about Andy, the titular Virgin, and his relationship problems, but the three coworkers who end up dragging him kicking and screaming toward the dating scene have their share of problems too. Shit, that sounds so lame. Look, the movie's funny, surprisingly intelligent, runs a little too long, and resolves itself in a way that doesn't come off being too insipidly sacchirine. And they actually take the time to flesh out the supporting characters, which is nice since they avoid being boring stock characters interchangeable with one another. Its also kind of reassuring to see a character with an even more messed up relationship history than my own. I don't know what that says about me, but its actually a better movie than I thought it would be.
Dead, but I've already seen that, I just didn't have time to watch again).
Ok, Lightning Round.
Corpse Bride impressed the hell out of me. First, the animation was astounding. All of the movements and artistry invovled in actually making the movie were stunning. The puppets had mechanisms in their heads that could be tweaked to change their facial expressions! That floored me. The movie looks great. Its also a musical, just so we're clear on that. The cast was also pretty solid, all around, (yes it has Johnny Depp in it as Victor) but Helena Bonham Carter carried the movie away as the Corpse Bride. Also, I have to give props to the movie for making an undead zombie woman so strangely, well, 'cute' I guess is the only word that comes to mind without someone inferring necrophilia. Now I feel dirty.
40 Year Old Virgin came out to a lot of hooplah last year. Its a filthy-mouthed comedy, certainly, but novel enough to make it work. Yes, its about Andy, the titular Virgin, and his relationship problems, but the three coworkers who end up dragging him kicking and screaming toward the dating scene have their share of problems too. Shit, that sounds so lame. Look, the movie's funny, surprisingly intelligent, runs a little too long, and resolves itself in a way that doesn't come off being too insipidly sacchirine. And they actually take the time to flesh out the supporting characters, which is nice since they avoid being boring stock characters interchangeable with one another. Its also kind of reassuring to see a character with an even more messed up relationship history than my own. I don't know what that says about me, but its actually a better movie than I thought it would be.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Something to think about the next time you get dragged to a Julia Roberts movie
Let me tell you about Romantic Comedies. They’ve all got something in common, and its this: They’re all a bunch of lies. Most stories are. Sure, they can reveal truths about humanity and the universe, they can make us laugh and cry and occasionally think, but humans are innate liars, and that’s why our stories are so good. Every time we tell a story, it changes. Every memory slides further and further away from what really happened. That’s just the way it is.
There’s no such thing as “They all lived happily ever after.” That’s a lie right there. Even if a couple manages to survive the hazards of their own psychoses intact, they’re still going to die and the surviving partner is going to go through hell in grief. Touching and emotional yes, "happily ever after" not so much.
People are crazy, and when they meet each other, they try to hide the crazy from each other. It never really works. The crazy always find a way out. The lucky couples are the ones who actually don’t mind the quirks they see in each other, they even find them charming and cute. The unlucky ones pretend the quirks don’t exist and spend the rest of their lives in misery while trying to figure out excuses to stay with someone who’s guts they hate. Then there’s the ones who hate the quirks and end things because they aren’t working out. Hopefully they don’t have the emotional baggage of 2.5 kids and a complicated alimony settlement when they do come to that revelation.
Couples argue. Couples fight. Dishes get thrown sometimes. Feelings get hurt. It happens. All the time. Some couples survive, others end after one fight too many. The lucky ones find an avenue of communication and compromise to get through. The unlucky ones profess in full denial of the truth that they love their husband, even after he got drunk and broke her nose with a bottle of Miller Lite. Again.
Sex is an investment. Mating is quick. Gestating and producing another human being takes a while. Ensuring that new human being survives to buy a car and try to mate in the back seat takes even longer. We’re not sea turtles. We don’t fuck for one night, then lay our eggs in the beach and six months later hope that some of the little buggers make it to the ocean without getting snatched up by the seagulls. For one thing, we get emotional about that kind of stuff. We rarely eat our young. We believe in nurturing our spawn, and loving them and “raising them right and proper.” Unfortunately we’re all neurotic monkeys, so all we’re really doing is just raising more neurotic monkeys.
There is no magic potion to make people fall in love. We’re on our own to figure out Love, and the instructions we’ve got all sound like those incomprehensible translations of Korean VHS player manuals. Its hard to fit slot A into Tab 16 when neither was included in the box. Even worse, males and females all have a knack for confusing the hell out of the other gender and complaining about not being understood. Men don’t get women. Women don’t get men. And yet Romantic Comedies provide countless hours of footage and characters that seem to be typical of their genders. You know, archetypes. The bad boy, the loveable fat guy sidekick who never gets the girl, the mousy girl with a wild side, the hooker with a heart of gold. The list goes on and on and on. They’re just broad caricatures. An umbrella category.
People are a hell of a lot more complicated than that. The loveable fat guy is probably throwing himself full force into being loveable because he’s so insecure about his weight and undesirability to the other sex, and if he weren’t appreciated for his funniness, he’d probably get so depressed and lonely that one morning he’s not going to wake up from the sleeping pills and vodka. The hooker with the heart of gold might just have been a promising med student when one unfortunate night at a sorority party, she got addicted to heroin, flunked out of school after a painful semester and ended up on the streets, plying her trade in order to get her next fix, all while her sober moments are filled with regret and self-hatred, so she might do a good deed as an unconscious plea for help before the last vestiges of her spirit get broken. That’s two stock characters made more complex by the infusion of tragedy. And they’re more true to life. Real people’s lives are rife with sorrow, tragedy and despair. That’s why we like Romantic Comedies. They help us laugh through the pain (well, the good ones at least, the bad ones just add to it) and make us believe even for an instant that its all going to be ok as long as your heart’s in the right place and you’ve got courage when you need it the most.
The real world doesn’t act that way. There the bad boy asshole does marry the prom queen, they have three kids, move out to the suburbs and he cheats on her with his young, vivacious secretary while the wife unconsciously injects the kids with her pent up hatred for him. Then, when she finally gets sick enough of his verbal abuse and tells him she’s leaving, he jealously flips out and beats her to death with an iron before putting a gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger, unaware that his five year old son just saw the whole thing. The honest shy guy spends years trying to muster the courage to express his feelings for the friend that he loves, berating himself night after night for failing to do so, until one day he can’t take it anymore and tells her at the most inopportune time, like say at her wedding. But unlike a RomCom, the bride to be has never loved the shy guy and yells at him for trying to ruin her wedding. He then runs out of the church crying and spends the next ten years drinking himself into a stupor just so he can get to sleep and contracts cirrhosis of the liver and dies a painful, lonely death. Those kinds of stories happen all the time. We get hints of them on the nightly news.
Romantic comedies are lies, but they tend to be beautiful lies. More importantly, they make us feel that, despite all the fucked up shit that goes on in the lives of everyone, maybe somewhere, at the right moment, standing on the roof of your car in the rain outside a girl’s house with Prince’s Purple Rain blaring out of the cheap stock stereo can win her heart. Because we hate to think that doing that will only get shoes thrown at us, threats about calling the cops, and a silent drive home interrupted only by the loud sobbing of the driver as his heart lies broken in her driveway next to the bouquet of roses he dropped on the ground.
There’s no such thing as “They all lived happily ever after.” That’s a lie right there. Even if a couple manages to survive the hazards of their own psychoses intact, they’re still going to die and the surviving partner is going to go through hell in grief. Touching and emotional yes, "happily ever after" not so much.
People are crazy, and when they meet each other, they try to hide the crazy from each other. It never really works. The crazy always find a way out. The lucky couples are the ones who actually don’t mind the quirks they see in each other, they even find them charming and cute. The unlucky ones pretend the quirks don’t exist and spend the rest of their lives in misery while trying to figure out excuses to stay with someone who’s guts they hate. Then there’s the ones who hate the quirks and end things because they aren’t working out. Hopefully they don’t have the emotional baggage of 2.5 kids and a complicated alimony settlement when they do come to that revelation.
Couples argue. Couples fight. Dishes get thrown sometimes. Feelings get hurt. It happens. All the time. Some couples survive, others end after one fight too many. The lucky ones find an avenue of communication and compromise to get through. The unlucky ones profess in full denial of the truth that they love their husband, even after he got drunk and broke her nose with a bottle of Miller Lite. Again.
Sex is an investment. Mating is quick. Gestating and producing another human being takes a while. Ensuring that new human being survives to buy a car and try to mate in the back seat takes even longer. We’re not sea turtles. We don’t fuck for one night, then lay our eggs in the beach and six months later hope that some of the little buggers make it to the ocean without getting snatched up by the seagulls. For one thing, we get emotional about that kind of stuff. We rarely eat our young. We believe in nurturing our spawn, and loving them and “raising them right and proper.” Unfortunately we’re all neurotic monkeys, so all we’re really doing is just raising more neurotic monkeys.
There is no magic potion to make people fall in love. We’re on our own to figure out Love, and the instructions we’ve got all sound like those incomprehensible translations of Korean VHS player manuals. Its hard to fit slot A into Tab 16 when neither was included in the box. Even worse, males and females all have a knack for confusing the hell out of the other gender and complaining about not being understood. Men don’t get women. Women don’t get men. And yet Romantic Comedies provide countless hours of footage and characters that seem to be typical of their genders. You know, archetypes. The bad boy, the loveable fat guy sidekick who never gets the girl, the mousy girl with a wild side, the hooker with a heart of gold. The list goes on and on and on. They’re just broad caricatures. An umbrella category.
People are a hell of a lot more complicated than that. The loveable fat guy is probably throwing himself full force into being loveable because he’s so insecure about his weight and undesirability to the other sex, and if he weren’t appreciated for his funniness, he’d probably get so depressed and lonely that one morning he’s not going to wake up from the sleeping pills and vodka. The hooker with the heart of gold might just have been a promising med student when one unfortunate night at a sorority party, she got addicted to heroin, flunked out of school after a painful semester and ended up on the streets, plying her trade in order to get her next fix, all while her sober moments are filled with regret and self-hatred, so she might do a good deed as an unconscious plea for help before the last vestiges of her spirit get broken. That’s two stock characters made more complex by the infusion of tragedy. And they’re more true to life. Real people’s lives are rife with sorrow, tragedy and despair. That’s why we like Romantic Comedies. They help us laugh through the pain (well, the good ones at least, the bad ones just add to it) and make us believe even for an instant that its all going to be ok as long as your heart’s in the right place and you’ve got courage when you need it the most.
The real world doesn’t act that way. There the bad boy asshole does marry the prom queen, they have three kids, move out to the suburbs and he cheats on her with his young, vivacious secretary while the wife unconsciously injects the kids with her pent up hatred for him. Then, when she finally gets sick enough of his verbal abuse and tells him she’s leaving, he jealously flips out and beats her to death with an iron before putting a gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger, unaware that his five year old son just saw the whole thing. The honest shy guy spends years trying to muster the courage to express his feelings for the friend that he loves, berating himself night after night for failing to do so, until one day he can’t take it anymore and tells her at the most inopportune time, like say at her wedding. But unlike a RomCom, the bride to be has never loved the shy guy and yells at him for trying to ruin her wedding. He then runs out of the church crying and spends the next ten years drinking himself into a stupor just so he can get to sleep and contracts cirrhosis of the liver and dies a painful, lonely death. Those kinds of stories happen all the time. We get hints of them on the nightly news.
Romantic comedies are lies, but they tend to be beautiful lies. More importantly, they make us feel that, despite all the fucked up shit that goes on in the lives of everyone, maybe somewhere, at the right moment, standing on the roof of your car in the rain outside a girl’s house with Prince’s Purple Rain blaring out of the cheap stock stereo can win her heart. Because we hate to think that doing that will only get shoes thrown at us, threats about calling the cops, and a silent drive home interrupted only by the loud sobbing of the driver as his heart lies broken in her driveway next to the bouquet of roses he dropped on the ground.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Demoted by Science!!
Well, well, well. After being the subject of a few years’ debate, the planet Pluto’s been demoted to a “dwarf planet” asteroid-thingy.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/space/20060911/sc_space/plutoisnowjustanumber134340;_ylt=Au9ByhJKXBQPJaypPQPEji3637YB;_ylu=X3oDMTA5aHJvMDdwBHNlYwN5bmNhdA--
Henceforth, “Pluto” is now forbidden from using that name as its legal moniker and has been assigned the ultra-sexy NEW name of 134340. In the past, Pluto has caused much consternation and scratching of heads among the scientific community. What does it look like exactly? What’s it made of? Why the hell is its orbit all wonky? 134340 is now being joined by rookie Eris (formerly 2003 UB313), a slightly larger mysterious space rock a little further out, in the dwarf planet class. Thus spake the International Astronomical Union!
Yeah, I can’t really say that with a straight face. Look, Pluto is still the same weird-ass space rock it was a week ago. Its still going to float out there and get inside Uranus’ orbit every now and then. Big rocks don’t care what they’re called. Or maybe they do, and when word of this reaches its orbit, Pluto’s going to be so pissed off that its going to let Jupiter’s gravitational pull upset its orbit and the former planet’s going to come screaming out of the heavens towards Earth, looking for vengeance!
Look, I appreciate Science’s continuing tweaking of the things it considers to be valid information, and humans are by nature a classifying species, but really, 134340? We’re still going to call it Pluto since its easier to remember and spell. As for the new kid, Eris, well, we (and by “we” I mean “Science”) know its bigger than Pluto, its got a “moon” and that’s about it. The real silly thing about it is our tendency to make big dramatic stories out of new scientific discoveries that aren’t necessarily “action packed.” The discovery of Eris was a big deal, since finding something further out and bigger than Pluto raises questions of a tenth planet and/or if it really is a planet. The name change is really just semantics at this point. Again, Pluto’s going to keep on doing what its doing, regardless what a thus-far lucky group of apes has to say about it. We’re not the boss of Pluto.
Incidentally, I’ve always wondered why Walt Disney went and named Mickey’s dog after the Roman god of the underworld. A god I might add, who forcibly kidnapped his future wife Penelope (Persephone) and dragged her to said underworld because he wanted to “get some.” Pluto wasn’t exactly evil, but he was kind of a dick. Here’s a challenge to make you feel uncomfortable watching those old cartoons. Every time they say “Pluto,” replace it with “Hades.” Or for added mythological comedy value, “Cerberus.” Now, I foresee this having two possible outcomes. 1) your sensibilities are shaken by the possibility that “Uncle Walt” was up to something sinister in naming a loveable cartoon dog after a god of the dead or 2) it’s a bit of absolutely hilarious unintentional humor.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/space/20060911/sc_space/plutoisnowjustanumber134340;_ylt=Au9ByhJKXBQPJaypPQPEji3637YB;_ylu=X3oDMTA5aHJvMDdwBHNlYwN5bmNhdA--
Henceforth, “Pluto” is now forbidden from using that name as its legal moniker and has been assigned the ultra-sexy NEW name of 134340. In the past, Pluto has caused much consternation and scratching of heads among the scientific community. What does it look like exactly? What’s it made of? Why the hell is its orbit all wonky? 134340 is now being joined by rookie Eris (formerly 2003 UB313), a slightly larger mysterious space rock a little further out, in the dwarf planet class. Thus spake the International Astronomical Union!
Yeah, I can’t really say that with a straight face. Look, Pluto is still the same weird-ass space rock it was a week ago. Its still going to float out there and get inside Uranus’ orbit every now and then. Big rocks don’t care what they’re called. Or maybe they do, and when word of this reaches its orbit, Pluto’s going to be so pissed off that its going to let Jupiter’s gravitational pull upset its orbit and the former planet’s going to come screaming out of the heavens towards Earth, looking for vengeance!
Look, I appreciate Science’s continuing tweaking of the things it considers to be valid information, and humans are by nature a classifying species, but really, 134340? We’re still going to call it Pluto since its easier to remember and spell. As for the new kid, Eris, well, we (and by “we” I mean “Science”) know its bigger than Pluto, its got a “moon” and that’s about it. The real silly thing about it is our tendency to make big dramatic stories out of new scientific discoveries that aren’t necessarily “action packed.” The discovery of Eris was a big deal, since finding something further out and bigger than Pluto raises questions of a tenth planet and/or if it really is a planet. The name change is really just semantics at this point. Again, Pluto’s going to keep on doing what its doing, regardless what a thus-far lucky group of apes has to say about it. We’re not the boss of Pluto.
Incidentally, I’ve always wondered why Walt Disney went and named Mickey’s dog after the Roman god of the underworld. A god I might add, who forcibly kidnapped his future wife Penelope (Persephone) and dragged her to said underworld because he wanted to “get some.” Pluto wasn’t exactly evil, but he was kind of a dick. Here’s a challenge to make you feel uncomfortable watching those old cartoons. Every time they say “Pluto,” replace it with “Hades.” Or for added mythological comedy value, “Cerberus.” Now, I foresee this having two possible outcomes. 1) your sensibilities are shaken by the possibility that “Uncle Walt” was up to something sinister in naming a loveable cartoon dog after a god of the dead or 2) it’s a bit of absolutely hilarious unintentional humor.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Gruss Gott!
Ahem. Yes. Well. I've returned from Europe none the worse for wear. Its also very, very difficult to try and distill the sheer sensory overload that three weeks of hard traveling will do. So, instead of breaking it down into a massive succession of posts, here's the nutshell review.
Ireland rocks. The country's booming, cheerful, and has a level of friendliness that makes Canada look like a bunch of curmudgeons. Its also got so many people from all over the world there, living, working or just visiting. Prices are expensive, food's good, the women are beautiful and the beer is excellent. I recommend going there. Dublin and Kilkenny are fantastic places, Blarney, despite the kitch, is worth visiting, and Cork, well, you can probably live a long, fulfilling life without having seen Cork.
Lithuania rocks. The country is recovering from decades of Soviet oppression. Prices are cheap, the food is good and/or interesting, the women are beautiful (Ireland has more though), the beer is very good (and cheap), the country is beautiful (if a little midwestern-y) and its also worth visiting and bringing tourist dollars there to boost up the economy. Vilnius is booming and undergoing a berserker building/remodeling campaign. There's a lot of grafitti and most people drive like lunatics, but the country's a great place to go.
Austria rocks. The Alps are staggering in their beauty. The food is superb, the beer is excellent, the cities are clean (aside from all the cigarette butts), and they have beautiful women (though Lithuania has more). Salzburg, Sound of Music kitsch aside, is a gorgeous storybook city that lives and breathes music (and capitalizing on Mozart). Graz is a quirky university city mixing ancient traditions with the hyper-modern weirdness that grows out of having university professors all over the place, and deserves your tourist dollars.
Well, that's a nutshell of the experience, though completely inadequate to explain anything. The best thing I can do is say travel for yourself, see what you want to see, step outside the lines of where you normally operate, and never, ever forget where your passport is.
Ireland rocks. The country's booming, cheerful, and has a level of friendliness that makes Canada look like a bunch of curmudgeons. Its also got so many people from all over the world there, living, working or just visiting. Prices are expensive, food's good, the women are beautiful and the beer is excellent. I recommend going there. Dublin and Kilkenny are fantastic places, Blarney, despite the kitch, is worth visiting, and Cork, well, you can probably live a long, fulfilling life without having seen Cork.
Lithuania rocks. The country is recovering from decades of Soviet oppression. Prices are cheap, the food is good and/or interesting, the women are beautiful (Ireland has more though), the beer is very good (and cheap), the country is beautiful (if a little midwestern-y) and its also worth visiting and bringing tourist dollars there to boost up the economy. Vilnius is booming and undergoing a berserker building/remodeling campaign. There's a lot of grafitti and most people drive like lunatics, but the country's a great place to go.
Austria rocks. The Alps are staggering in their beauty. The food is superb, the beer is excellent, the cities are clean (aside from all the cigarette butts), and they have beautiful women (though Lithuania has more). Salzburg, Sound of Music kitsch aside, is a gorgeous storybook city that lives and breathes music (and capitalizing on Mozart). Graz is a quirky university city mixing ancient traditions with the hyper-modern weirdness that grows out of having university professors all over the place, and deserves your tourist dollars.
Well, that's a nutshell of the experience, though completely inadequate to explain anything. The best thing I can do is say travel for yourself, see what you want to see, step outside the lines of where you normally operate, and never, ever forget where your passport is.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Its been a long, strange day
There is a lot going on right now. I'm in a net cafe in Cork. Seriously. A traveloque is being kept, but there isn't nearly enough time to get into everything right now.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Books you ought not to ignore
I generally try to avoid discussing uber-nerdy things like video games and comics on this blog (that's what the other one's for), but I feel the need to express my meaningless endorsement for Neil Gaiman & John Romita Jr.'s Eternals mini series. Yes, it is a comic book. A Marvel comic book to be exact. Yeah, it mentions guys like Spider-Man and all that. It also ties heavily into the previous history of the Eternals (a near-godlike race of ancient supermen genetically---look, its complicated, ok?) Right, so, Marvel continuity gets touched on, but its not essential to the story. There's a whole big "Civil War" event going on over Superhuman Registration that gets mentioned, but isn't important here. You don't have to know about it to enjoy what's going on. Gaiman's writing is good. The guys got an ear for dialogue and can deliver on off-the-wall concepts, and the Eternals, created by comic god Jack Kirby, definitely are. There's a whole bunch of plot threads going on, but I get the feeling that "all will be revealed" when its all said and done. And Romita Jr.'s art is really damn good. Sometimes he's a little "blocky" for me (like some of his Punisher stuff), but not here. Its all good. I've gotta say, if you're looking for an inroad into the world of comics as deeply rewarding storytelling, this may not be as artsy as an indie comic (or Vertigo, for that matter-->See Gaiman's Sandman), but its a good way to ease into parts of the Marvel Universe that don't involve Spider-Man or Wolverine.
And for Pete's sake, if there's one thing comics need less of right now, its Wolverine.
Besides, its a mini, so six issues and you can pretend you never stepped into a comic shop.
And for Pete's sake, if there's one thing comics need less of right now, its Wolverine.
Besides, its a mini, so six issues and you can pretend you never stepped into a comic shop.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Reservations and the lack thereof
Well, its about a week till I climb aboard a heavier-than-air marvel of engineering and hope I safely land in Dublin. And if not that, then at least the peanuts had better be good. Its strange. Most of the flight arrangements have been taken care of. I’ve begun test packing to see what I’m going to have to exclude from the suitcase, figuring out what book to read on the flight, little stuff like that. Basically, it’s a lull in the action, much like the point where you realize you’ve strapped yourself into the roller coaster, but the fun part hasn’t started yet. Its that middle part in between, where every second that goes by with another clunk is a stark reminder that bit by bit, the comfort of the ground is slowly slipping away whether you want it to or not. At least there’s no ratcheting “Klink klink klink” sound as you get dragged to the crest of the hill. It’s not quite the eerie silence before the plummet where you begin to have reservations on it being good idea after all. It’s the moment when you realize that the eerie silence is close at hand.
Surprisingly, I’ve managed to find time for television amid all this chaos. Not a whole lot of television, so most of that time’s been spent on the Travel Channel. Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations is a show I’ve been slowly getting into over the last couple of months here and there, but its finally won me over. The premise is simple; famous author and chef travels around the world and tells you what he thinks. It’s a great show because he eats everything, even the nasty stuff. Greater still is his command of language and imagery. The guy knows his narrative stuff. Now, on a completely opposite end of the spectrum is Passport to Europe which, while showing interesting places in Europe, just doesn’t have the whole “I want to go out of my way to watch this” factor. Actually the only reason I did watch it was because they went to Dublin.
And I’ve just run out of stuff to say, so I’ll stop.
Surprisingly, I’ve managed to find time for television amid all this chaos. Not a whole lot of television, so most of that time’s been spent on the Travel Channel. Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations is a show I’ve been slowly getting into over the last couple of months here and there, but its finally won me over. The premise is simple; famous author and chef travels around the world and tells you what he thinks. It’s a great show because he eats everything, even the nasty stuff. Greater still is his command of language and imagery. The guy knows his narrative stuff. Now, on a completely opposite end of the spectrum is Passport to Europe which, while showing interesting places in Europe, just doesn’t have the whole “I want to go out of my way to watch this” factor. Actually the only reason I did watch it was because they went to Dublin.
And I’ve just run out of stuff to say, so I’ll stop.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Tto the MAXXX!!
So I’m sitting here wondering what to write about. Ah, what the hell. Here’s a book review. I mean, uh, a book review so X-TREEEM it’ll rip your face off and wear it to a masquerade ball!
Miyamoto Musashi’s “A Book of Five Rings” is like a lesser known “Art of War.” Basically, it’s a treatise on strategy and warfare written just before the samurai’s death. Its written in short, economic sentences. What’s interesting about it (and completely contrary to pretty much any anime out there) is that he advocates learning to be tactically flexible, study the enemy, adapt tactics, and use any weapon at your disposal to win. He has no “super-ultimate” attack that’s guaranteed to win. In fact, he shows scorn on martial arts styles that limit themselves to only one style of combat. He says long swords, short swords, bows, spears, guns, cannon whatever all have tactical uses and a victorious warrior will never look down any of them. Adding weight to his argument is his resume of winning over sixty duels before he turned thirty. One of those duels was won with an oar. He killed a man with an OAR.
X-TREEEM!!!!!
Miyamoto Musashi’s “A Book of Five Rings” is like a lesser known “Art of War.” Basically, it’s a treatise on strategy and warfare written just before the samurai’s death. Its written in short, economic sentences. What’s interesting about it (and completely contrary to pretty much any anime out there) is that he advocates learning to be tactically flexible, study the enemy, adapt tactics, and use any weapon at your disposal to win. He has no “super-ultimate” attack that’s guaranteed to win. In fact, he shows scorn on martial arts styles that limit themselves to only one style of combat. He says long swords, short swords, bows, spears, guns, cannon whatever all have tactical uses and a victorious warrior will never look down any of them. Adding weight to his argument is his resume of winning over sixty duels before he turned thirty. One of those duels was won with an oar. He killed a man with an OAR.
X-TREEEM!!!!!
Thursday, July 13, 2006
A Symphony of Terror for Moog and Slide Whistle
Well, it was a late work night last night, so I didn’t get this posted before collapsing from exhaustion. So its getting posted now. And through the miracle of the “internet” if you’re reading the archive for fun (though what madness could impel that idea escapes me) it’ll appear in a sequential format, and it’ll be like there was no missing day at all. Except for this incriminating paragraph. Curses! Foiled by my own verbosity!
Rounding out my foray into classics of early German cinema is F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu. Its from 1922, so it predates Metropolis by five years and it definitely lacks the polish and film quality of the latter. Still, it definitely deserves its place in the hallowed halls of film classics. The plot is essentially an unauthorized bastardization of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Guy goes to Transylvania and is essentially responsible for bringing a vampire to his home town. Vampire takes a ship and kills the crew before leaving a bloody mess in said town before finally being stopped. There’s even a crazy lunatic. Ok, so the plot’s pretty straightforward.
Admittedly, the directing is also usually straightforward too. But there are moments of visual awesomeness. You’ve probably seen the hunched and spooky shadow of a figure creeping up a stairway? That’s from Nosferatu. And its one of the best shots ever. Also, Count Orlock is probably my favorite movie vampire ever. Freaky looking as all hell and a downright monster with creepy monster hands. Another interesting technique Murnau used was adding different filters to set the mood of the place. This being a monochrome picture, it’s a little difficult to tell a lot of the time whether its day or night outdoors (since they probably filmed all the outdoor stuff during daylight so it would come up on film), so a blue tint was added to make it look a little more like night time without being nearly as dark as actual night.
The only real complaint I have about the movie is that, well, the soundtrack does sound rather digitized. This being a silent film and all, the original score must’ve deteriorated, so a substitute was put in. It does get the job done, but it doesn’t sound nearly as good as Metropolis’. And yes, parts of it do sound like a slide whistle.
Rounding out my foray into classics of early German cinema is F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu. Its from 1922, so it predates Metropolis by five years and it definitely lacks the polish and film quality of the latter. Still, it definitely deserves its place in the hallowed halls of film classics. The plot is essentially an unauthorized bastardization of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Guy goes to Transylvania and is essentially responsible for bringing a vampire to his home town. Vampire takes a ship and kills the crew before leaving a bloody mess in said town before finally being stopped. There’s even a crazy lunatic. Ok, so the plot’s pretty straightforward.
Admittedly, the directing is also usually straightforward too. But there are moments of visual awesomeness. You’ve probably seen the hunched and spooky shadow of a figure creeping up a stairway? That’s from Nosferatu. And its one of the best shots ever. Also, Count Orlock is probably my favorite movie vampire ever. Freaky looking as all hell and a downright monster with creepy monster hands. Another interesting technique Murnau used was adding different filters to set the mood of the place. This being a monochrome picture, it’s a little difficult to tell a lot of the time whether its day or night outdoors (since they probably filmed all the outdoor stuff during daylight so it would come up on film), so a blue tint was added to make it look a little more like night time without being nearly as dark as actual night.
The only real complaint I have about the movie is that, well, the soundtrack does sound rather digitized. This being a silent film and all, the original score must’ve deteriorated, so a substitute was put in. It does get the job done, but it doesn’t sound nearly as good as Metropolis’. And yes, parts of it do sound like a slide whistle.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Undead Monkey Ahoy
Right, so, as I loosely promised last night, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest was on the plate for today (yeah, I’m a few days behind the curve. I know).
I must admit to being a little torn about it. Visually, the movie knocks it out of the park. ILM did a hell of a job with Davey Jones and the Flying Dutchman’s crew. The story was great for an action movie, with the plot and subplots all moving forward at a nice clip. Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow is exactly as he should be and the movie lets you know that he’s the center of the POTC universe, and that’s a good thing. Keira Knightley is still sigh-inducingly beautiful. It’s a great movie. There’s no doubt about that. You will leave the theatre thoroughly entertained.
Its just that the POTC: Curse of the Black Pearl left me leaving the theatre with the heady euphoria of seeing something extraordinarily new and original. While there’s no lack of big awe-inspiring moments in Dead Man’s Chest, some of the sense of wonder is missing. Part of has to be the fact that the Disney Marketing Machine™ has put their entire weight behind this movie, unlike the previous one. The toys and books have been out since at least May, so Davey Jones isn’t nearly as surprising when you first see him. Oh sure, there’s stuff later on that provides some great surprises. In the first film, Jack Sparrow’s an unstoppable force. Crazy as a loon, yes, but someone with an ace up his sleeve whenever he needs it. It feels slightly less like that in this movie. He’s still Jack Sparrow, but he’s unnerved this time around.
One thing that was an absolute joy about this sequel was that it kept a lot of characters around from the first one. Some, like Jack’s crew, are logical nods to continuity. Others make for some great surprises that I’m not going to spoil here. The great thing about them is that even the side characters actually get to grow and develop too. Be prepared for a “to be continued” ending though. Although Empire Strikes Back ending on a similar note, so its not a big deal. Audiences loved the first one, they love the second one, and they’re going to keep on lovin’ the franchise. At least as long as they don’t decide they want to make prequels.
And yes, there is an undead monkey that Jack loves to shoot. S’wonderful, really.
I must admit to being a little torn about it. Visually, the movie knocks it out of the park. ILM did a hell of a job with Davey Jones and the Flying Dutchman’s crew. The story was great for an action movie, with the plot and subplots all moving forward at a nice clip. Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow is exactly as he should be and the movie lets you know that he’s the center of the POTC universe, and that’s a good thing. Keira Knightley is still sigh-inducingly beautiful. It’s a great movie. There’s no doubt about that. You will leave the theatre thoroughly entertained.
Its just that the POTC: Curse of the Black Pearl left me leaving the theatre with the heady euphoria of seeing something extraordinarily new and original. While there’s no lack of big awe-inspiring moments in Dead Man’s Chest, some of the sense of wonder is missing. Part of has to be the fact that the Disney Marketing Machine™ has put their entire weight behind this movie, unlike the previous one. The toys and books have been out since at least May, so Davey Jones isn’t nearly as surprising when you first see him. Oh sure, there’s stuff later on that provides some great surprises. In the first film, Jack Sparrow’s an unstoppable force. Crazy as a loon, yes, but someone with an ace up his sleeve whenever he needs it. It feels slightly less like that in this movie. He’s still Jack Sparrow, but he’s unnerved this time around.
One thing that was an absolute joy about this sequel was that it kept a lot of characters around from the first one. Some, like Jack’s crew, are logical nods to continuity. Others make for some great surprises that I’m not going to spoil here. The great thing about them is that even the side characters actually get to grow and develop too. Be prepared for a “to be continued” ending though. Although Empire Strikes Back ending on a similar note, so its not a big deal. Audiences loved the first one, they love the second one, and they’re going to keep on lovin’ the franchise. At least as long as they don’t decide they want to make prequels.
And yes, there is an undead monkey that Jack loves to shoot. S’wonderful, really.
Not Your Superman’s Metropolis
Wow.
I have just had sweet cinema lovin’ made to me. No. Its not Pirates of the Caribbean (that’s tomorrow). I’m talking about Fritz Lang’s 1927 silent masterpiece, Metropolis. Man, I’m still soaking it all in. The Germans know operatic, and this, this WAS operatic. Take a city of the future, built on the backs of drudging workers. Have the son of the genius behind the city discover that there’s more than fornication in a pleasure garden. Add a love interest that gets replaced by a robot duplicate by a crazy old guy with a mechanical hand and you’ve got a swiftly complicating plotline. At first, it seems like the movie’s going to go all “downtrodden workers rising up against the corporate masters,” and it does…in a way. Then it goes and spits in Marx’s face (I love when that happens) by going biblical. Great Flood kind of biblical. Tower of Babel kind of biblical. And the special effects are just about as good as they can get for being an 80 year old film. The “mascot” of the movie, the robot woman (they called it a machine-man in the movie) was really well done, and you can see where Lucas got the idea for C-3PO. Hell, there’s even a surreal stripshow, so there’s something for everybody.
I have to recommend this movie. If you call yourself a film buff, you’ve probably already seen it, unless of course you’re a filthy liar or just a misguided soul like I was who simply hadn’t had the chance to see this work of wonder. If you’re a fan of Modernism, its got stuff you’d like. Hell, even if you just casually like movies (like most of the people in the world) give this film a look. Some of the acting (particularly by the character of Maria) is just so crazy and brilliant at the same time. The lighting of the film is phenomenal. There are some shots where I was simply floored by the innovation and imagery used.
Look-just--Its good--Oh for heaven’s sake, just see the movie for yourself!
I have just had sweet cinema lovin’ made to me. No. Its not Pirates of the Caribbean (that’s tomorrow). I’m talking about Fritz Lang’s 1927 silent masterpiece, Metropolis. Man, I’m still soaking it all in. The Germans know operatic, and this, this WAS operatic. Take a city of the future, built on the backs of drudging workers. Have the son of the genius behind the city discover that there’s more than fornication in a pleasure garden. Add a love interest that gets replaced by a robot duplicate by a crazy old guy with a mechanical hand and you’ve got a swiftly complicating plotline. At first, it seems like the movie’s going to go all “downtrodden workers rising up against the corporate masters,” and it does…in a way. Then it goes and spits in Marx’s face (I love when that happens) by going biblical. Great Flood kind of biblical. Tower of Babel kind of biblical. And the special effects are just about as good as they can get for being an 80 year old film. The “mascot” of the movie, the robot woman (they called it a machine-man in the movie) was really well done, and you can see where Lucas got the idea for C-3PO. Hell, there’s even a surreal stripshow, so there’s something for everybody.
I have to recommend this movie. If you call yourself a film buff, you’ve probably already seen it, unless of course you’re a filthy liar or just a misguided soul like I was who simply hadn’t had the chance to see this work of wonder. If you’re a fan of Modernism, its got stuff you’d like. Hell, even if you just casually like movies (like most of the people in the world) give this film a look. Some of the acting (particularly by the character of Maria) is just so crazy and brilliant at the same time. The lighting of the film is phenomenal. There are some shots where I was simply floored by the innovation and imagery used.
Look-just--Its good--Oh for heaven’s sake, just see the movie for yourself!
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