As usual I've been both cranky and ill.
Someone (irritating) at work today said,
"...but i've seen you be cheerful and friendly before"
and before I could remember the cover story I replied
"It was a LIE."
So, it's out in the open. On the other hand, once one has cultivated even a minor reputation for eccentricity, nothing after that needs to make too much sense to be shrugged off as "just another thing." So you can tell the radical truth and it becomes outrageous entertainment.
"What do you think of so-and-so?"
"I love him and obsess over him in the long nights of my solitude."
Cue uproarious laughter.
It couldn't be any better if I actually wore a Jester's outfit.
But I digress.
For anyone who hasn't noticed it is pretty much the middle of the year. I considered some kind of sincere post, but I'm not up to it. The only goal-related thing I would say is that I am happy with my reading list so far this year, which has held up rather well despite being flooded this month by a series of works by Stephenie Meyer. The tally stands at 28 books in total and of these, 13 are non-fiction! Nearly exactly half!! WOOT! (gently mimes punching air so as not to dislodge reading glasses.
Of these, what books can I recommend to you my tasteful and clever audience?
A good question.
From January, Six Easy Pieces by Richard P. Feynman. Very thoughtfully re-published by Penguin in their charming $10 range (thank you Penguin and good idea going back to classic jacket designs!). Get into some Physics - it is already in you!!
February yielded some good quality reading in the form of The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain de Botton (another Penguin $10 winner). A novel about Tesla called The Invention of Everything Else by Samantha Hunt and a collection of Essays gifted to me by Mez called How to be Alone by Jonathan Franzen. I felt pretty clever by association after those highlights.
March needed a new flavour, so I read the new SF by Richard Morgan - The Black Man and I really liked it but I recommend it to SF readers with some qualifications (depending on your taste). The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman was lovely and had a little unsaid, which I like. The real standout this month was finishing The Invisibles by Grant Morrison which was a loaner from MsJaye and one of those books that infects and gives one a fever. I got through the fever, and now I can't wait to find out what I'm inoculated against or prepared for. Turns out I love anarchistic-chaos-magic. I want to do it again! (BTW for snobs - be warned - that one's a comic.)
April was quiet, I read some non-fic that was a bit dull and I re-read a favourite novel and then read a French SF novel called Babylon Babies (by Mauice Dantec, but I don't remember the translator. It wasn't Nicole Kidman so don't sweat it). I'd read some mixed reviews and of course the film (Babylon AD)was hopeless but actually i thought that the book was good. Not quite as fully anarchist chaos magical as The Invisibles, but possibly a good enough chaser. Lots of good themes and a clever central character and plenty of wild tech. I would like to read more SF from NESB (non english speaking background) as the flavours and textures are less predictable (all of which was pretty much removed for the film. Poor Vin Diesel. I bet he loved the original script.)
So May was not a big reading month, I was pretty sick, but I did finish Kimono: Fashioning Culture by Liza Dalby which I got on a whim and then was able to read nearly half of during a day of travel. It was fascinating, and I feel slightly more informed now when I watch Japanese cinema, or see modern women wearing Kimono. Actually, I'll fess up and say that I went out of my way to re-watch Memoirs of a Geisha just so I could look at all the kimono.
June, ah June. June has been the month of escapist reading. Binging on one-night-reads is something we all do sometimes, but that doesn't make me proud. In the middle of that I finished What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Darwin Knew: From fox-hunting to Whist - the facts of Daily life in 19th-Century England by Daniel Pool which I had been very eagerly awaiting. I was anticipating a detailed and exhaustive book, but actually this book ought to be subtitled "In Which Things that are Almost Obvious from The Context of the Novel are explained in length oftentimes using Quotations from Self-same Novels. Perhaps you ought to read more proper history books?"
Ah well. More than half of this puny book is pointless. I'm trying to think of a redeeming feature .... um .... it has some nice etchings.
I love to keep lists of books, I wish I'd given-in to the urge a long time ago instead of feeling furtive and dirty for wanting to do so. In a lot of ways it is a more interesting way of tracking the tides and flavours of my life than the dates of trips or the odd event. Movies and Knitting have both taken up a lot of time that I would otherwise have spent reading. But that's ok - ther'e more to come in the great Western Genre exploration, and Riley very nearly has his own bespoke cardigan.
Showing posts with label movie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movie. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Terminator: Salvation
(Spoiler Alert! Yes, again. Don't read this if you're seriously looking forward to the latest Terminator film. But really - who is?).
I swear to you, this blog is not going to devolve solely into me bagging the shit out of popular culture. I aim to bag the shit out of high-brow stuff occasionally as well.
Over the long weekend I went along to see Terminator: Salvation at my local cinema. There were many members of the public in attendance which I do not like. It is not (just) that I am anti-social, they are simply not fit to be in the public arena. Case in point: the 'gentleman' seated next to me wore thongs presumably so that when the urge came over him, he could pick his toes during the film without the irritation of having to remove any shoes. Charming.
But I digress.
Firstly, this film is badly misnamed (why do they think that dropping the numbers helps? Oh, that's right, because we're now scraping the prequel barrel and it confuses people to have non-linear sequences. An argument, perhaps, for using the Dewy system for films. But that's a subject for discussion at another time). Anyway. "Salvation" is a misnomer. This film should rightly have been subtitled "Survival" or even something like "have you ever seen a more gritty dystopian future prequel than this?! Holy Shit we're really all going to DIE!!! RUN - RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" but as a marketing person I wouldn't really recommend that - it's hard to make puns with for the actor profiles during promos.
I guess "Survival" was taken, but it is a shame, they should have saved Salvation for when they win the freakin war I would have thought. Not for a film where the resistance takes massive casualties, loses their entire command structure and basically get their arses kicked at every single point.
That leads me to my second point. I don't know a lot about war. Actually, I know very little about war on any level. I've made effort to avoid it personally. From what I have seen and heard it is a deeply unpleasant experience, and something not to be undertaken lightly. Which is why I would have suggested that someone in the Resistance who does know about war ought to read a little book by an old guy call Sun. In this book, which is kind of like a "War for Dummies1" he suggests that you should know everything you can about your enemy. In this film, that could be as simple as remembering that the machines you're fighting are very very smart. Maybe not the ones directly in front of you, but the ones that built them are. I reckon that odds are good that machines that have made themselves self-aware are going to be pretty bright. Hence, one ought to think things through as if you're playing a game of Chess or Go in which your opponent has a higher rank than you. That is to say, they're likely to set traps for you. I would, if I was clever.
Not being clever brings me to my third, and final point. American action films have made a fruitful industry out of not worrying too much about clever if you can be very strong. This almost completely defines the action genre. It is about guys (usually) chasing each other, thumping each other and blowing shit up. This is where T:S comes home and delivers. It's got all the things you look for in an action flick: big guns (tick), attack helicopters (tick), funky secret commando hand signal stuff (tick), blowing shit up (tick, tick, tick), and best of all, big tough guys taking an absolute flogging (sadly I don't mean an actual flogging on a rack. I think the only SF film to deliver that particular delicacy must be Starship Troopers. If you know of any others please, please tell me). In this instance I mean fisty-cuffs to the snoz stuff.
This is what kept me going. I really liked seeing Sam Worthington2 get killed, take a nude mud bath, be beaten, shot at, beaten again, killed again, resurrected, beaten again, and then suicide. Not only is that a thrashing and a half, but it is also one heck of a character arc! And, he just eats it up. I want the next film to be about Marcus Wright stirring things up in the afterlife. OOOHHH - Marcus Wright Vs The Mummy!! I would so totally go and see that. The human equivalent of the bear vs shark question. Brilliant.
But I digress. Again.
On the way home I thought of a great drinking game for this film. It goes like this - first of all you need to get all resistance (shame they skipped the Steampunk possibilities - but one can't have everything) and build (or borrow if you're not well suited to experimental conditions) an alcohol distillation set up ("a still")and make some moonshine (Please remember to cut the juice you get!) then you and your mates all take a swig and settle down to watch this film. Once it starts, every time Marcus Wright does something brutal or has something brutal done to him you have another shot. I leave it up to you to decide if kissing Helena should count. In this way, if you are by some miracle still conscious by the end of the film, you really don't really care that most of the film made no sense and that John Connor is a total arse.
Everybody Wins!3
1. There is both a "Vietnam War for Dummies" and a "War on Terrorism for Dummies" actually published. I thought I was being funny, but it turns out satire is too easily just being inaccurate.
2. Who, BTW, was awesome as Macbeth. Man, I love that version. Even better than Polanski's. Really.
3. Except the humans. And Sam Worthington.
I swear to you, this blog is not going to devolve solely into me bagging the shit out of popular culture. I aim to bag the shit out of high-brow stuff occasionally as well.
Over the long weekend I went along to see Terminator: Salvation at my local cinema. There were many members of the public in attendance which I do not like. It is not (just) that I am anti-social, they are simply not fit to be in the public arena. Case in point: the 'gentleman' seated next to me wore thongs presumably so that when the urge came over him, he could pick his toes during the film without the irritation of having to remove any shoes. Charming.
But I digress.
Firstly, this film is badly misnamed (why do they think that dropping the numbers helps? Oh, that's right, because we're now scraping the prequel barrel and it confuses people to have non-linear sequences. An argument, perhaps, for using the Dewy system for films. But that's a subject for discussion at another time). Anyway. "Salvation" is a misnomer. This film should rightly have been subtitled "Survival" or even something like "have you ever seen a more gritty dystopian future prequel than this?! Holy Shit we're really all going to DIE!!! RUN - RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" but as a marketing person I wouldn't really recommend that - it's hard to make puns with for the actor profiles during promos.
I guess "Survival" was taken, but it is a shame, they should have saved Salvation for when they win the freakin war I would have thought. Not for a film where the resistance takes massive casualties, loses their entire command structure and basically get their arses kicked at every single point.
That leads me to my second point. I don't know a lot about war. Actually, I know very little about war on any level. I've made effort to avoid it personally. From what I have seen and heard it is a deeply unpleasant experience, and something not to be undertaken lightly. Which is why I would have suggested that someone in the Resistance who does know about war ought to read a little book by an old guy call Sun. In this book, which is kind of like a "War for Dummies1" he suggests that you should know everything you can about your enemy. In this film, that could be as simple as remembering that the machines you're fighting are very very smart. Maybe not the ones directly in front of you, but the ones that built them are. I reckon that odds are good that machines that have made themselves self-aware are going to be pretty bright. Hence, one ought to think things through as if you're playing a game of Chess or Go in which your opponent has a higher rank than you. That is to say, they're likely to set traps for you. I would, if I was clever.
Not being clever brings me to my third, and final point. American action films have made a fruitful industry out of not worrying too much about clever if you can be very strong. This almost completely defines the action genre. It is about guys (usually) chasing each other, thumping each other and blowing shit up. This is where T:S comes home and delivers. It's got all the things you look for in an action flick: big guns (tick), attack helicopters (tick), funky secret commando hand signal stuff (tick), blowing shit up (tick, tick, tick), and best of all, big tough guys taking an absolute flogging (sadly I don't mean an actual flogging on a rack. I think the only SF film to deliver that particular delicacy must be Starship Troopers. If you know of any others please, please tell me). In this instance I mean fisty-cuffs to the snoz stuff.
This is what kept me going. I really liked seeing Sam Worthington2 get killed, take a nude mud bath, be beaten, shot at, beaten again, killed again, resurrected, beaten again, and then suicide. Not only is that a thrashing and a half, but it is also one heck of a character arc! And, he just eats it up. I want the next film to be about Marcus Wright stirring things up in the afterlife. OOOHHH - Marcus Wright Vs The Mummy!! I would so totally go and see that. The human equivalent of the bear vs shark question. Brilliant.
But I digress. Again.
On the way home I thought of a great drinking game for this film. It goes like this - first of all you need to get all resistance (shame they skipped the Steampunk possibilities - but one can't have everything) and build (or borrow if you're not well suited to experimental conditions) an alcohol distillation set up ("a still")and make some moonshine (Please remember to cut the juice you get!) then you and your mates all take a swig and settle down to watch this film. Once it starts, every time Marcus Wright does something brutal or has something brutal done to him you have another shot. I leave it up to you to decide if kissing Helena should count. In this way, if you are by some miracle still conscious by the end of the film, you really don't really care that most of the film made no sense and that John Connor is a total arse.
Everybody Wins!3
1. There is both a "Vietnam War for Dummies" and a "War on Terrorism for Dummies" actually published. I thought I was being funny, but it turns out satire is too easily just being inaccurate.
2. Who, BTW, was awesome as Macbeth. Man, I love that version. Even better than Polanski's. Really.
3. Except the humans. And Sam Worthington.
Friday, May 15, 2009
The Western
I was lucky enough to be able to indulge recently in a little bit of fairly nerdy, high-def movie marathoning. We watched Serenity for entrees, Blade Runner (Director's cut) for mains, and finished (and I mention here that it is not a decision lightly made finding the right film to follow Blade Runner!) with an encore screening of Tombstone. A most excellent night, and as it was an exclusive viewing club, there was no guilt and much pleasure in talking over boring scenes, rewinding and freeze-framing, reciting dialogue along with the actors, in short all of the things that make re-watching great films fun.
Obviously at some point the subject of The Western as a genre came up. It is kinda easy to see how Firefly (and so Serenity) qualify (plenty of ponies, sidearms and law of the fastest draw), and Tombstone which apart from the Latin-off is nearly a textbook Western ... or is it? In discussion about what great Western films should be watched (we like a list, oh yes, we like a list) Unforgiven came up. And it is an utterly brilliant film in itself, "But" I said in the slightly preachy and pretty annoying way that I have "you simply can not start with it. You have to know about westerns, at least have a feel for them, to really get why Unforgiven is so good." Rather than calling me a wanker, or pish-poshing my elitist stance, my co-nerd simply enquired "What then, do you suggest I watch first?" thus further endearing her to me.
I took a moment to think about it.
I took a deep breath, marshaled my feeble mental resources and began.
I took another moment.
As I thought about it, I realised there was quite a complex history and lineage to a film like Unforgiven (or indeed Firefly on a different branch) and although I'm a fan of the genre as I critically appraised my knowledge in order to provide a reasonable, purposeful and appropriate guide to suitable viewing for a keen neophyte I realised (not for the first time) that I was in over my head.
"I'll have a think about it, and I'll make you a list." Best I could do at the time.
That was over two weeks ago, and I've been thinking it over. I started a list, and it seemed inadequate. Then I started a second of films I've seen but forgotten, then a third of films I'd been recommended, but never got to, and then a fourth of westerns set in space. The myriad shifts and mutations in the genre, the massive and now difficult to grasp homogeneity and popularity of it in its heyday all these things somehow need to be encapsulated and yet there are a huge huge number of westerns, and really I have only seen a very tiny part of their whole. Also, to add a little more piquancy some films set "in the west" are not a Western, likewise a story can be on a moonbase and still be quintessentially a Western (so I think) so why is that? What is at the heart of this genre? What really defines it? Is it independence? Masculinity? Justice?
So I have not made the list, and in another fresh move for me, I am not turning to my reference books (much as I am tempted) but shall instead embark upon a course of viewings. I shall ramble my way through 70 years of Western films in all their guises with no deadline, no schedule, no roster, no real purpose other than for the journey itself and to share the glory and the pleasures of the trip with you, my beloved travelling companions.
Suggestions and recommendations are warmly welcomed. Reviews and notes or mentions of films may or may not appear here in the future after this next week - nothing much is certain in life. In the great tradition of the high-country cowgirls "we will be together on the ride until we aint" (BTW I made that up, that tradition and that little aphorism, but I promise, I'll take the reviews a lot more seriously. Actually, I had my fingers crossed then too. You're on your own. You'll need to cross-reference anything you find here that you want to quote, or believe, or otherwise propogate).
I've decided to start in the 40s and have borrowed 2 volumes (!) of the "John Wayne Collection" from my brother-in-law. I shall view selectively from this vast array lest I sicken and fall early into the undertaking.
Until next we meet, Ye-Har!
Obviously at some point the subject of The Western as a genre came up. It is kinda easy to see how Firefly (and so Serenity) qualify (plenty of ponies, sidearms and law of the fastest draw), and Tombstone which apart from the Latin-off is nearly a textbook Western ... or is it? In discussion about what great Western films should be watched (we like a list, oh yes, we like a list) Unforgiven came up. And it is an utterly brilliant film in itself, "But" I said in the slightly preachy and pretty annoying way that I have "you simply can not start with it. You have to know about westerns, at least have a feel for them, to really get why Unforgiven is so good." Rather than calling me a wanker, or pish-poshing my elitist stance, my co-nerd simply enquired "What then, do you suggest I watch first?" thus further endearing her to me.
I took a moment to think about it.
I took a deep breath, marshaled my feeble mental resources and began.
I took another moment.
As I thought about it, I realised there was quite a complex history and lineage to a film like Unforgiven (or indeed Firefly on a different branch) and although I'm a fan of the genre as I critically appraised my knowledge in order to provide a reasonable, purposeful and appropriate guide to suitable viewing for a keen neophyte I realised (not for the first time) that I was in over my head.
"I'll have a think about it, and I'll make you a list." Best I could do at the time.
That was over two weeks ago, and I've been thinking it over. I started a list, and it seemed inadequate. Then I started a second of films I've seen but forgotten, then a third of films I'd been recommended, but never got to, and then a fourth of westerns set in space. The myriad shifts and mutations in the genre, the massive and now difficult to grasp homogeneity and popularity of it in its heyday all these things somehow need to be encapsulated and yet there are a huge huge number of westerns, and really I have only seen a very tiny part of their whole. Also, to add a little more piquancy some films set "in the west" are not a Western, likewise a story can be on a moonbase and still be quintessentially a Western (so I think) so why is that? What is at the heart of this genre? What really defines it? Is it independence? Masculinity? Justice?
So I have not made the list, and in another fresh move for me, I am not turning to my reference books (much as I am tempted) but shall instead embark upon a course of viewings. I shall ramble my way through 70 years of Western films in all their guises with no deadline, no schedule, no roster, no real purpose other than for the journey itself and to share the glory and the pleasures of the trip with you, my beloved travelling companions.
Suggestions and recommendations are warmly welcomed. Reviews and notes or mentions of films may or may not appear here in the future after this next week - nothing much is certain in life. In the great tradition of the high-country cowgirls "we will be together on the ride until we aint" (BTW I made that up, that tradition and that little aphorism, but I promise, I'll take the reviews a lot more seriously. Actually, I had my fingers crossed then too. You're on your own. You'll need to cross-reference anything you find here that you want to quote, or believe, or otherwise propogate).
I've decided to start in the 40s and have borrowed 2 volumes (!) of the "John Wayne Collection" from my brother-in-law. I shall view selectively from this vast array lest I sicken and fall early into the undertaking.
Until next we meet, Ye-Har!
Friday, May 08, 2009
Push Me, Pull Me
Tonight I had a fresh run-in with the hidden mechanism to social networking - gated communities.
Yes, I know they've been around the whole time. After all, before it was the interwebs it was ARPAnet and if that wasn't the biggest on-line gated community to begin with I'm a chartered accountant. I didn't even have to make that up about ARPAnet. I noes that from reading a book! Thank you Bruce Sterling!! You too can read The Hacker Crackdown if you're old school and don't mind reading things on that scratchy stuff called paper, or, if you prefer, here's the wiki link on it.) (Oh, how droll, i just went to find a link to the book, and actually, it's gone digital. MIT is hosting a copy here. Thank you Bruce Sterling and MIT, you rock.)
But I digress.
I've been getting recommendations for a particular site1 from different persons of varying trust levels (ie knowledgeable strangers in shops and friends), and in the end, I remembered to write it down on something and put it into my weberciser. Well, jolly jumbucks if it isn't by invitation only! It isn't truly closed - I didn't have to get invited by someone I know (like gmail used to be) and I didn't have to provide in 25 words or less why I would like to be included, or justify my inclusion on the grounds of skills and expected contribution. No, I just asked to be invited, and got told that 1500 invitations go out a day, so I'm 3thousand 6hundred something something in the queue, so I'll have to wait about 3 days.
So my point here, and I do have one, is that pull marketing works.
And that humans still like to be a bit exclusive.
Finally, that the idea that the perfect anything/everything is out there somewhere secret and I don't know about it because I am not in the right circles is traumatising - thus identifying me as a vulnerable under-developed idiot ripe for clever marketing (read = "pretty normal").
Can you tell I've been compulsively watching Mad Men2 lately?
Ah, Advertising, my dirty secret.
So I go and look up a bot more about the site and discover it's in Beta (since 2007 - no rush guys!) and has tools based around organising everything for one's hobby. That's what F'book lacks - a hobby connection (apart from tagging in photos). It would be good to cross-sort tools/books across various interests. But now I'm speculating, I still haven't tried to use it.
Something they don't talk up and I will be heartily surprised if it doesn't happen, is targeted advertising inside that room. Once you've asked to enter, you're self-identified as a consumer for linked products and people like me (wearing a work hat for a second) salivate at such a target-rich environment.
We have to make due at work with putting ads in the paper. LEFT.BE-HIND. people, we are being left behind. I cannot tell my eager potential customers about our wonderful range of products - because I have No pull! NO PULL! People are not queued up 3thousand 6hundred something deep to get the latest news about the next tribute show being hosted in Ipswich (it's John Denver in case you're interested, and then Sinatra next month. All happening at the Civic Hall!! peeps). But there has to be an answer to my work problem out there somewhere, somehow...
Which takes me into another tangent. One of the writers for the show (Mad Men) set up a twitter account for the lead character and had the character twittering to fans. Brilliant idea! Other characters got in on the act (hi-larious!) BUT WAIT - the studio that owns the show asked Twitter to shut it down! Oh Dear! You can read about this over here.
So I guess I'm not the only one trying to get more people involved in my product, and engaged in what we offer but then still completely and utterly trying to control how that happens and when. The sheltered workshop has a very strong stance - no interactive stuff! No blogs! No f'books! No relationships. We are push only! PUSH I say! So we push.
We do letter campaigns - no blip in sales. Email campaigns- no blip in sales. Radio - nothing. Yet some shows sell out with barely any work from us. Word of mouth. We have to get the right mouths going. Or book better acts. That the major variable that we don't really like to mention. Paul Kelly played our venue for half the price he played in Brisbane. Any wonder he sold out? Different proposition trying to fill "standing room only" (there's optimism for you) for the Noiseworks re-union tour that no-one was clamouring for.
Life isn't about buying things, it is about being in relationships. That's why we love movies and TV shows - we want to share in those extra relationships. We want to do things and go places with our friends and loved-ones and that's where the pull is, so be pull-able! But being pullable means letting go of the push a bit. We have to loosen up, flow with the breeze, be more like bamboo. Strong yet flexible.
There it is folks. We have to be more like bamboo.
Don Draper would be pleased with that.
There's the concept, work up some art for it.
Have a whiskey everyone.
1. It is www.ravelry.com if you're interested. It's a knitting thing. I really can't tell you anything else until I can have a peek inside.
2. Not just for the eye candy either, although that is a consideration, but for the thoughtful discussion of themes and issues yes, really, I'm watching it for the articles.
Yes, I know they've been around the whole time. After all, before it was the interwebs it was ARPAnet and if that wasn't the biggest on-line gated community to begin with I'm a chartered accountant. I didn't even have to make that up about ARPAnet. I noes that from reading a book! Thank you Bruce Sterling!! You too can read The Hacker Crackdown if you're old school and don't mind reading things on that scratchy stuff called paper, or, if you prefer, here's the wiki link on it.) (Oh, how droll, i just went to find a link to the book, and actually, it's gone digital. MIT is hosting a copy here. Thank you Bruce Sterling and MIT, you rock.)
But I digress.
I've been getting recommendations for a particular site1 from different persons of varying trust levels (ie knowledgeable strangers in shops and friends), and in the end, I remembered to write it down on something and put it into my weberciser. Well, jolly jumbucks if it isn't by invitation only! It isn't truly closed - I didn't have to get invited by someone I know (like gmail used to be) and I didn't have to provide in 25 words or less why I would like to be included, or justify my inclusion on the grounds of skills and expected contribution. No, I just asked to be invited, and got told that 1500 invitations go out a day, so I'm 3thousand 6hundred something something in the queue, so I'll have to wait about 3 days.
So my point here, and I do have one, is that pull marketing works.
And that humans still like to be a bit exclusive.
Finally, that the idea that the perfect anything/everything is out there somewhere secret and I don't know about it because I am not in the right circles is traumatising - thus identifying me as a vulnerable under-developed idiot ripe for clever marketing (read = "pretty normal").
Can you tell I've been compulsively watching Mad Men2 lately?
Ah, Advertising, my dirty secret.
So I go and look up a bot more about the site and discover it's in Beta (since 2007 - no rush guys!) and has tools based around organising everything for one's hobby. That's what F'book lacks - a hobby connection (apart from tagging in photos). It would be good to cross-sort tools/books across various interests. But now I'm speculating, I still haven't tried to use it.
Something they don't talk up and I will be heartily surprised if it doesn't happen, is targeted advertising inside that room. Once you've asked to enter, you're self-identified as a consumer for linked products and people like me (wearing a work hat for a second) salivate at such a target-rich environment.
We have to make due at work with putting ads in the paper. LEFT.BE-HIND. people, we are being left behind. I cannot tell my eager potential customers about our wonderful range of products - because I have No pull! NO PULL! People are not queued up 3thousand 6hundred something deep to get the latest news about the next tribute show being hosted in Ipswich (it's John Denver in case you're interested, and then Sinatra next month. All happening at the Civic Hall!! peeps). But there has to be an answer to my work problem out there somewhere, somehow...
Which takes me into another tangent. One of the writers for the show (Mad Men) set up a twitter account for the lead character and had the character twittering to fans. Brilliant idea! Other characters got in on the act (hi-larious!) BUT WAIT - the studio that owns the show asked Twitter to shut it down! Oh Dear! You can read about this over here.
So I guess I'm not the only one trying to get more people involved in my product, and engaged in what we offer but then still completely and utterly trying to control how that happens and when. The sheltered workshop has a very strong stance - no interactive stuff! No blogs! No f'books! No relationships. We are push only! PUSH I say! So we push.
We do letter campaigns - no blip in sales. Email campaigns- no blip in sales. Radio - nothing. Yet some shows sell out with barely any work from us. Word of mouth. We have to get the right mouths going. Or book better acts. That the major variable that we don't really like to mention. Paul Kelly played our venue for half the price he played in Brisbane. Any wonder he sold out? Different proposition trying to fill "standing room only" (there's optimism for you) for the Noiseworks re-union tour that no-one was clamouring for.
Life isn't about buying things, it is about being in relationships. That's why we love movies and TV shows - we want to share in those extra relationships. We want to do things and go places with our friends and loved-ones and that's where the pull is, so be pull-able! But being pullable means letting go of the push a bit. We have to loosen up, flow with the breeze, be more like bamboo. Strong yet flexible.
There it is folks. We have to be more like bamboo.
Don Draper would be pleased with that.
There's the concept, work up some art for it.
Have a whiskey everyone.
1. It is www.ravelry.com if you're interested. It's a knitting thing. I really can't tell you anything else until I can have a peek inside.
2. Not just for the eye candy either, although that is a consideration, but for the thoughtful discussion of themes and issues yes, really, I'm watching it for the articles.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Oh Happy Day
Along with millions of other people this morning, I'm in love all over again. Barack Obama has been inaugurated as the 44th President of the United States of America. He and his family and his team and supporters have created a king tide of hope that sloughed off the mud and spite thrown during the electoral process to wash into office. The swelling pride in the unfolding of this historic event (a first African-American President) took pauses to see if the corruptions we were hurt so badly by in the past would try again (the Florida polling fiasco, dodgy sexual shenanigans, or worst of all, a successful assassination attempt), but they did not. And day by day we came closer to this, Inauguration Day.
I feel like I have been holding my breath since last November. Something akin to living in a movie where the best president in the world has taken office and wrongs begin to be set right, and any moment now the credits will roll and I'll have to walk out into harsh reality. The first US President I remember was Ronald Reagan and his UK counterpart, the Woman who Wore the Pants (or Pearls whichever you prefer), Margaret Thatcher. I've grown up and lived my life in the cold shadow of cynicism that was cast by these people. Their rule was for the benefit of business, of the material, of fear and aggression. I have had my heart broken by the promises of politicians over and over again. For so long it was an abusive relationship of co-dependence and I had to withdraw from it, and turn my heart to the same stone of the people I had despised just so it would stop hurting.
Today that hard stone has melted. There's wisdom and strength in his leadership, and it is shared through a warm confident voice that pitches us sombre speeches of responsibility that ask us all to find a more courageous path towards a better world. History happened today, and not just the facts of firsts and the dates of transitions. Millions of people listened to the same words and together reflected on our relationship to this manifesto. For he spoke to each of us. Here is a tiny excerpt from his speech.
"And so, to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and we are ready to lead once more.
Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with the sturdy alliances and enduring convictions.
They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use. Our security emanates from the justness of our cause; the force of our example; the tempering qualities of humility and restraint."
This is a magnificent day.
I want to believe that this is real, that it is really happening. Even more, I want to not feel like a fool in a year's time for daring to hope that we can heed this call. I'm inspired by the crafting of this speech (as are many others) and I hold a cherished anticipation of what it heralds for America, and because we're all in this together, for all of us.
A happy day indeed.
I feel like I have been holding my breath since last November. Something akin to living in a movie where the best president in the world has taken office and wrongs begin to be set right, and any moment now the credits will roll and I'll have to walk out into harsh reality. The first US President I remember was Ronald Reagan and his UK counterpart, the Woman who Wore the Pants (or Pearls whichever you prefer), Margaret Thatcher. I've grown up and lived my life in the cold shadow of cynicism that was cast by these people. Their rule was for the benefit of business, of the material, of fear and aggression. I have had my heart broken by the promises of politicians over and over again. For so long it was an abusive relationship of co-dependence and I had to withdraw from it, and turn my heart to the same stone of the people I had despised just so it would stop hurting.
Today that hard stone has melted. There's wisdom and strength in his leadership, and it is shared through a warm confident voice that pitches us sombre speeches of responsibility that ask us all to find a more courageous path towards a better world. History happened today, and not just the facts of firsts and the dates of transitions. Millions of people listened to the same words and together reflected on our relationship to this manifesto. For he spoke to each of us. Here is a tiny excerpt from his speech.
"And so, to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and we are ready to lead once more.
Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with the sturdy alliances and enduring convictions.
They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use. Our security emanates from the justness of our cause; the force of our example; the tempering qualities of humility and restraint."
This is a magnificent day.
I want to believe that this is real, that it is really happening. Even more, I want to not feel like a fool in a year's time for daring to hope that we can heed this call. I'm inspired by the crafting of this speech (as are many others) and I hold a cherished anticipation of what it heralds for America, and because we're all in this together, for all of us.
A happy day indeed.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
A year in Review. Ish.
It's the last day of the year. OMG so many things that just didn't get done, and the house is a sty and the family are descending in T minus 85 minutes and it is 40 degrees. I've sloshed out of the tub of cold water I was quelling the heat induced nausea in, and reeled around the house wondering if I should put my mobile in the fridge (do you think when it is so hot that all the interior surfaces of the house are at greater than blood heat it's a good idea to put important pieces of tech into a cool place?).
But I digress.
So what exactly did get done in 2008? Well, there was 52 weekly paycheques collected. Pass Go! Thank you very much Sheltered Workshop. 59 books read (Percentage trash approx 80%) which is not great, but not really despicable either. 14 hours spent doing yoga - that's pathetic. Really pathetic. Weight lost - unknown. Gave up tracking that in August. There's a lesson in that, if only I could understand it. 10 films seen at the cinema (it feels like less, but at least I made it into double digits - enough to stay moderately in touch with popular culture). All bills paid, all contracts fulfilled, all obligations met.
87 blog posts, 18 ooo words for Nano and enough emails to paper the moon.
Best experience was seeing Neil Gaiman in May (thanks everyone who made that special treat happen) at Kinokuniya and Kev saying Sorry.
Look it's not much of a review, I know that. I'm grateful for all the good things that happened and that my house is flood-proof and the widow-maker has only crippled the clothesline. Not bad for a year of natural catastrophes. Everyone in the family still has their limbs and air travel is still possible. Frankly I'm stoked.
May 2009 bring everybody more nice moments (I'd like more hugs this year) and less crappy shit. Yes, that is a tautology, sorry.
May your sovereign state stay solvent.
But I digress.
So what exactly did get done in 2008? Well, there was 52 weekly paycheques collected. Pass Go! Thank you very much Sheltered Workshop. 59 books read (Percentage trash approx 80%) which is not great, but not really despicable either. 14 hours spent doing yoga - that's pathetic. Really pathetic. Weight lost - unknown. Gave up tracking that in August. There's a lesson in that, if only I could understand it. 10 films seen at the cinema (it feels like less, but at least I made it into double digits - enough to stay moderately in touch with popular culture). All bills paid, all contracts fulfilled, all obligations met.
87 blog posts, 18 ooo words for Nano and enough emails to paper the moon.
Best experience was seeing Neil Gaiman in May (thanks everyone who made that special treat happen) at Kinokuniya and Kev saying Sorry.
Look it's not much of a review, I know that. I'm grateful for all the good things that happened and that my house is flood-proof and the widow-maker has only crippled the clothesline. Not bad for a year of natural catastrophes. Everyone in the family still has their limbs and air travel is still possible. Frankly I'm stoked.
May 2009 bring everybody more nice moments (I'd like more hugs this year) and less crappy shit. Yes, that is a tautology, sorry.
May your sovereign state stay solvent.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Twilight: The Neutered Boy-Band of Vampire Films
Sometimes I leave a series of books to build up, so that then I get to read them in a binge. The Stephanie Meyer Twilight series is one I've saved, so all comments about this film are based simply on the film. Such as it is.
I Pine, I Swoon. I Pine Again.
Wuv, twoo Wuv is tough for vampires, especially if they got turned in their teens. One episode of Moonlight showed just how nasty this can be - 170 years of acne would turn me into a serial killer too. Thankfully for the Cullen nest they all had really good nutrition and clean pores before they became "vegetarian" vampires. Not that I'm going to pick this film apart on plot points. No Sireee, that just wouldn't be sporting. Besides, that's not why one goes to see fare like this. No, one goes to sigh over perfect cheekbones and the lips of an ... angel wouldn't quite be right, but let's just say that I'm surprised that Robert Pattinson didn't insist on equal billing for his hair/lips and jaw. They certainly get the bulk of the screen time. Rightly so. there's not a lot of dialogue getting in the way of the brooding. You get a fair amount of time to look around too, and I've gotta tell you, the scenery in this film is gorgeous. After 10 years of drought, I would watch this just for all the rain scenes and the über-green forest. But I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah - pining for a love that cannot be.
Forbidden Love
*sigh*
For masochists, there can be a deep satisfaction in the denial of pleasure. A tautness to the desire that builds and builds to a blunt edge of pain and it is the pain itself and the endurance of it which becomes a muted pleasure (of a kind) until the eventual release (yes, even masochists get release, unlike Twilight fans). These children hash around at it and it pretty much goes nowhere but I'm betting the books give it a better build-up. It is, after all, the kind of thing that is easier to understand with an internal monologue. Otherwise you're just watching people with a kindof pained expression on their face and you wonder - are they having gut cramps? There's not really a lot of denial going on here either, she pretty much just throws herself at him and it is he, the gallant vegetarian vamp who turns his head away and says no. So she tries again. Who can blame her, he sparkles like a My Little Pony unicorn and declares he feels "strongly protective" of her. Woo - the kids are *wild*!
Bring Back the Teeth
Colour me weird, but I always found that it was the danger that made the Vamps sexy. There's no fangs in this film. There's a little eyeball action (the black guy gets red ones, but Darth Maul's were way scarier) and no blood. OK, a tiny smear in the big confrontation when her (SPOILER ALERT) femoral artery is meant to bleeding out ( I promised I wasn't going to get picky, but c'mon guys you bleed out of a femoral artery in something of the order of 3 minutes - let's not pick that part of the story for some wooden dialogue and pissing around with moral qualms), but only one of the 6 vamps in the room seems to have even a twinge about the snack spilling.
Ok, I'm not even going to go there. I'm totally backing out of this critical direction.
Why Her?!
I get that she would go for him. He can play Debussy (despite the massive handicap of his hair/eyebrows/lips), can climb huge firs in an effortless scramble, sparkles like a My Little Pony unicorn (did I mention he sparkles?) and he lives in the stunning architectural mansion in the forest. But she's a whiny nobody who's only allure seems to be that she smells good. I think Rum Balls smell good, but I don't date them. I think cigars and carrots smell good, but I don't tie myself up in knots wondering if they like me. Oh, and he can't read her thoughts, where he can read everyone else's. Big Woop. I can read most people's thoughts too when they're this complicated: QUOTE "Sex. Money. Sex. Sex. Money." UN-QUOTE nothing startling there.
And So...
If you like your boys pretty and your vampires fangless and all Emo-fied, then you'll probably laugh a lot less in this film than I did and possibly even think it's a pretty neat love story. Basically, this film is an utterly hi-larious trashy b-grade teen flick and I recommend we all get wasted and go see it together, and laugh our guts up. I can't wait for the second one. We'll watch The Craft first tho - ok? and Heathers for afters.
Remember - pine, then swoon.
I Pine, I Swoon. I Pine Again.
Wuv, twoo Wuv is tough for vampires, especially if they got turned in their teens. One episode of Moonlight showed just how nasty this can be - 170 years of acne would turn me into a serial killer too. Thankfully for the Cullen nest they all had really good nutrition and clean pores before they became "vegetarian" vampires. Not that I'm going to pick this film apart on plot points. No Sireee, that just wouldn't be sporting. Besides, that's not why one goes to see fare like this. No, one goes to sigh over perfect cheekbones and the lips of an ... angel wouldn't quite be right, but let's just say that I'm surprised that Robert Pattinson didn't insist on equal billing for his hair/lips and jaw. They certainly get the bulk of the screen time. Rightly so. there's not a lot of dialogue getting in the way of the brooding. You get a fair amount of time to look around too, and I've gotta tell you, the scenery in this film is gorgeous. After 10 years of drought, I would watch this just for all the rain scenes and the über-green forest. But I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah - pining for a love that cannot be.
Forbidden Love
*sigh*
For masochists, there can be a deep satisfaction in the denial of pleasure. A tautness to the desire that builds and builds to a blunt edge of pain and it is the pain itself and the endurance of it which becomes a muted pleasure (of a kind) until the eventual release (yes, even masochists get release, unlike Twilight fans). These children hash around at it and it pretty much goes nowhere but I'm betting the books give it a better build-up. It is, after all, the kind of thing that is easier to understand with an internal monologue. Otherwise you're just watching people with a kindof pained expression on their face and you wonder - are they having gut cramps? There's not really a lot of denial going on here either, she pretty much just throws herself at him and it is he, the gallant vegetarian vamp who turns his head away and says no. So she tries again. Who can blame her, he sparkles like a My Little Pony unicorn and declares he feels "strongly protective" of her. Woo - the kids are *wild*!
Bring Back the Teeth
Colour me weird, but I always found that it was the danger that made the Vamps sexy. There's no fangs in this film. There's a little eyeball action (the black guy gets red ones, but Darth Maul's were way scarier) and no blood. OK, a tiny smear in the big confrontation when her (SPOILER ALERT) femoral artery is meant to bleeding out ( I promised I wasn't going to get picky, but c'mon guys you bleed out of a femoral artery in something of the order of 3 minutes - let's not pick that part of the story for some wooden dialogue and pissing around with moral qualms), but only one of the 6 vamps in the room seems to have even a twinge about the snack spilling.
Ok, I'm not even going to go there. I'm totally backing out of this critical direction.
Why Her?!
I get that she would go for him. He can play Debussy (despite the massive handicap of his hair/eyebrows/lips), can climb huge firs in an effortless scramble, sparkles like a My Little Pony unicorn (did I mention he sparkles?) and he lives in the stunning architectural mansion in the forest. But she's a whiny nobody who's only allure seems to be that she smells good. I think Rum Balls smell good, but I don't date them. I think cigars and carrots smell good, but I don't tie myself up in knots wondering if they like me. Oh, and he can't read her thoughts, where he can read everyone else's. Big Woop. I can read most people's thoughts too when they're this complicated: QUOTE "Sex. Money. Sex. Sex. Money." UN-QUOTE nothing startling there.
And So...
If you like your boys pretty and your vampires fangless and all Emo-fied, then you'll probably laugh a lot less in this film than I did and possibly even think it's a pretty neat love story. Basically, this film is an utterly hi-larious trashy b-grade teen flick and I recommend we all get wasted and go see it together, and laugh our guts up. I can't wait for the second one. We'll watch The Craft first tho - ok? and Heathers for afters.
Remember - pine, then swoon.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Weeping on the First/Second Date
The severe cut-backs on media intake continue to be painful and are not yielding any improvement in mental capacities or creative output. Perhaps this is like that period smokers go through when they reduce the number of cigarettes a day hoping to gain the best of both worlds. I am merely prolonging the worst aspects.
On saturday I went to the cinemas again with The Jugger, and of his list of proposed films 3 were on war, 1 a surrealist montage and 1 about running marathons. The only one in english was "The Hunger", and I know enough about Bobby Sands to know I didn't want to experience any of that so I chose war: Waltz with Bashir. Partly because I had heard a little about the production and it sounded interesting. They used a similar animation process to 'Through a Scanner Darkly' and I find this blending of techniques interesting. Apart from that, I knew it was set in the Lebannon war of 82 via flashback. But I ask you - what's wrong with a romantic comedy for a second/first date? (I must mention the protocols of internet dating - first date is a coffee date. I can be over as quickly as it takes to say "Soy?! Decaff?! I'm outta here" and part of this arrangement is there's no hard feelings. It was just a coffee - no biggie. If that goes well, one may progress to the next stage - what used to be the first date - where as a couple you might tackle the challenge of formally dining together, or perhaps enjoying the air-conditioning of a cinema, perhaps seeing if that 'GSOH' actually translates into the both of you laughing at anywhere near the same things, people, lines, ideas and so on). Or even, what's wrong with seeing a film you've already seen if you know it's good? I've done that, I think it's polite, after all, the function is to spend some time together not to critique David Stratton's interpretation!
I've always been someone who easily suspends disbelief and enters into the world of a film. Sometimes this results in a wonderful journey into a time and place I would never have access to otherwise, sometimes I get lost in that world and have trouble coming back (LOTR) and sometimes, it just really hurts because the story isn't a fantasy or an escape, or a comedy, it's a freaking documentary about a genocide. Heightened by my withdrawal from the world of moving pictures this was an arduous, painful 90minutes for me, and I was glad of my nana instincts to always travel with tissues, because I needed them. It's a great film, a well told story, visually interesting, political from a personal point of view and so on. I'm sure David probably gave it a great round up. He should have anyway, and there's some great humour in it, and some dream sequences, and a bit of german porn and I really loved the visual impact of the way they'd done the animation, it's just that I wept. It was sad, it was horrible and it was distressing because despite the animation and the other tricks, it was real. This man we get to know, he unearthed this memory, and it was his memory because he was there when this atrocity occurred. It. Was. Real. Bodies. Death. Blood. Everywhere.
BAM.
No getting around it. This is what bearing witness is all about isn't it?! To listen and feel with an open heart a story, a memory, a confession and hold it. Just hold it. I can't change it, I can't fix it, heal it or wipe it away. I can honour the memory of the people who died, and the pain of those who survived by acknowledging it.
So hours later when I got home and sat in the quiet room, I'm sorry memory of the people who died and pain of those who survived, but I really wanted to escape your reality and wash it away. So I used fire against fire. I watched another movie. The Fifth Element which is possibly the only intentionally positive, feel good, happy ending SF film.... oh maybe also Galaxy Quest. as distinct to SF films one laughs at (Starship Troopers!!). So much for giving up movies - two in one day!!
Maybe I should have chosen the marathon one afterall.
On saturday I went to the cinemas again with The Jugger, and of his list of proposed films 3 were on war, 1 a surrealist montage and 1 about running marathons. The only one in english was "The Hunger", and I know enough about Bobby Sands to know I didn't want to experience any of that so I chose war: Waltz with Bashir. Partly because I had heard a little about the production and it sounded interesting. They used a similar animation process to 'Through a Scanner Darkly' and I find this blending of techniques interesting. Apart from that, I knew it was set in the Lebannon war of 82 via flashback. But I ask you - what's wrong with a romantic comedy for a second/first date? (I must mention the protocols of internet dating - first date is a coffee date. I can be over as quickly as it takes to say "Soy?! Decaff?! I'm outta here" and part of this arrangement is there's no hard feelings. It was just a coffee - no biggie. If that goes well, one may progress to the next stage - what used to be the first date - where as a couple you might tackle the challenge of formally dining together, or perhaps enjoying the air-conditioning of a cinema, perhaps seeing if that 'GSOH' actually translates into the both of you laughing at anywhere near the same things, people, lines, ideas and so on). Or even, what's wrong with seeing a film you've already seen if you know it's good? I've done that, I think it's polite, after all, the function is to spend some time together not to critique David Stratton's interpretation!
I've always been someone who easily suspends disbelief and enters into the world of a film. Sometimes this results in a wonderful journey into a time and place I would never have access to otherwise, sometimes I get lost in that world and have trouble coming back (LOTR) and sometimes, it just really hurts because the story isn't a fantasy or an escape, or a comedy, it's a freaking documentary about a genocide. Heightened by my withdrawal from the world of moving pictures this was an arduous, painful 90minutes for me, and I was glad of my nana instincts to always travel with tissues, because I needed them. It's a great film, a well told story, visually interesting, political from a personal point of view and so on. I'm sure David probably gave it a great round up. He should have anyway, and there's some great humour in it, and some dream sequences, and a bit of german porn and I really loved the visual impact of the way they'd done the animation, it's just that I wept. It was sad, it was horrible and it was distressing because despite the animation and the other tricks, it was real. This man we get to know, he unearthed this memory, and it was his memory because he was there when this atrocity occurred. It. Was. Real. Bodies. Death. Blood. Everywhere.
BAM.
No getting around it. This is what bearing witness is all about isn't it?! To listen and feel with an open heart a story, a memory, a confession and hold it. Just hold it. I can't change it, I can't fix it, heal it or wipe it away. I can honour the memory of the people who died, and the pain of those who survived by acknowledging it.
So hours later when I got home and sat in the quiet room, I'm sorry memory of the people who died and pain of those who survived, but I really wanted to escape your reality and wash it away. So I used fire against fire. I watched another movie. The Fifth Element which is possibly the only intentionally positive, feel good, happy ending SF film.... oh maybe also Galaxy Quest. as distinct to SF films one laughs at (Starship Troopers!!). So much for giving up movies - two in one day!!
Maybe I should have chosen the marathon one afterall.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Flopping around on the couch like a pale moonworm
I had this fleeting idea for a good post the other day, and I didn't write it down, so guess what? Yeah, I totally forgot it.
So I've been sick. Let's not talk about it. It's very boring to to talk about being ill, particularly when it's not a new or exotic thing - just the same round of stuff.
I've read a few books lately - the two Vampire Academy books (Vampire Academy and Frostbite) and two "Mortal Instruments" (City of Bones & City of Ashes by Clare) these are good fun. Particularly if you like stories about vampires. If you don't like stories about vampires, well you won't really like these, and you've got other issues anyway. I'm currently reading the new Monthly and a dodgy e-book called "Palace of Paradise" or something. It sounds like it might be a saucy romance, but actually it's really an edited listserv doc for a type of therapy called Emotional Freedom Therapy. As you can tell by the name, there's not a lot of science to this therapy! It's only 140 pages but it's taking me ages to read it. I got recommended it, so I'm staying the distance... In more exciting reading news I've have started the new Neal Stephenson (Anathem) and have only got about 50 pages in and decided to draw it out, so have put it down until the weekend. ooooohhh - delicious fiction! It's way clever, and I expect it will get quite complicated. I've just ordered 'Babylon Babies' by Maurice Dantec (a French author, so it's in translation) as Sister and I went to the movies last weekend to see the movie that's been loosely based on it - Babylon AD and we enjoyed it. I'm not necessarily recommending it mind you, just saying that as huge Riddick fans, we were fanging for some butch-camp sci-fi, and this was just the ticket! I was very upset this week to realise that the new Riddick "film" I thought I saw listing on IMDB was actually just a video game. D'oH!!
While I was ill, all of my seedlings died. The backyard is so overgrown that I will only walk on the concrete paths because I am afraid of snakes. This is hurting the fig and lemon trees, as they're not currently getting the laundry water on the weekends. It feels terribly wasteful to let all of that water just go down the drain, but even if I could walk to the trees, I wasn't in a fit state to carry the buckets. That's ok, we'll start again next weekend. Maybe.
So I've been sick. Let's not talk about it. It's very boring to to talk about being ill, particularly when it's not a new or exotic thing - just the same round of stuff.
I've read a few books lately - the two Vampire Academy books (Vampire Academy and Frostbite) and two "Mortal Instruments" (City of Bones & City of Ashes by Clare) these are good fun. Particularly if you like stories about vampires. If you don't like stories about vampires, well you won't really like these, and you've got other issues anyway. I'm currently reading the new Monthly and a dodgy e-book called "Palace of Paradise" or something. It sounds like it might be a saucy romance, but actually it's really an edited listserv doc for a type of therapy called Emotional Freedom Therapy. As you can tell by the name, there's not a lot of science to this therapy! It's only 140 pages but it's taking me ages to read it. I got recommended it, so I'm staying the distance... In more exciting reading news I've have started the new Neal Stephenson (Anathem) and have only got about 50 pages in and decided to draw it out, so have put it down until the weekend. ooooohhh - delicious fiction! It's way clever, and I expect it will get quite complicated. I've just ordered 'Babylon Babies' by Maurice Dantec (a French author, so it's in translation) as Sister and I went to the movies last weekend to see the movie that's been loosely based on it - Babylon AD and we enjoyed it. I'm not necessarily recommending it mind you, just saying that as huge Riddick fans, we were fanging for some butch-camp sci-fi, and this was just the ticket! I was very upset this week to realise that the new Riddick "film" I thought I saw listing on IMDB was actually just a video game. D'oH!!
While I was ill, all of my seedlings died. The backyard is so overgrown that I will only walk on the concrete paths because I am afraid of snakes. This is hurting the fig and lemon trees, as they're not currently getting the laundry water on the weekends. It feels terribly wasteful to let all of that water just go down the drain, but even if I could walk to the trees, I wasn't in a fit state to carry the buckets. That's ok, we'll start again next weekend. Maybe.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Mummy Tomb of the Dragon Emperor
I have low expectations about films like this, but I was well disappointed by this boring, lacklustre doin it by the numbers effort.
Such a shame. The playful spark of the 1999 The Mummy (no subtitle needed) with the sassy librarian and the boof-head boy (played with lovely comic timing by Brendan Fraser) was well paced, unpretentious and featured plenty of just-enough pommy plummery to flavour.
Not so this bloated and lost monstrosity.
The second film got a bit bogged down in the 'family' backstory and the laboured plot devises to bring the Scorpion King, the Mummy and Rick O'Connell into a massive three-way fight was lightened only by the girl-on-girl king fu knives in egyptian scanties action. You can watch it, but you really need to be nailed to the couch by beers and ennui to do so. This third film makes the second one seem fresh.
I thought Jet Li would totally rock out as an evil powerful emperor, but he seemed to have a bad headache and a stick up his arse. *sigh* The hot and sweet Rachel Weisz is missing, and the new girl Maria Bello ... well let's just say the chemistry isn't there. I don't care that Rick and Evie's parenting has been a bit lacklustre, where the hell's Arnold Vosloo oiled and in a loincloth? Jet Li spends the whole film encased in a piece of Bauhaus architecture.
Don't go see this film. Seriously, you'll have more fun re categorising your cds.
Such a shame. The playful spark of the 1999 The Mummy (no subtitle needed) with the sassy librarian and the boof-head boy (played with lovely comic timing by Brendan Fraser) was well paced, unpretentious and featured plenty of just-enough pommy plummery to flavour.
Not so this bloated and lost monstrosity.
The second film got a bit bogged down in the 'family' backstory and the laboured plot devises to bring the Scorpion King, the Mummy and Rick O'Connell into a massive three-way fight was lightened only by the girl-on-girl king fu knives in egyptian scanties action. You can watch it, but you really need to be nailed to the couch by beers and ennui to do so. This third film makes the second one seem fresh.
I thought Jet Li would totally rock out as an evil powerful emperor, but he seemed to have a bad headache and a stick up his arse. *sigh* The hot and sweet Rachel Weisz is missing, and the new girl Maria Bello ... well let's just say the chemistry isn't there. I don't care that Rick and Evie's parenting has been a bit lacklustre, where the hell's Arnold Vosloo oiled and in a loincloth? Jet Li spends the whole film encased in a piece of Bauhaus architecture.
Don't go see this film. Seriously, you'll have more fun re categorising your cds.
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