Scared to Say

Gritty Reboot Theater

2010-02-03T09:51:00.007-05:00

2 and a Half Men (2020): Angus T Jones plays his own aged older selves in this revisit to the classic material. Using the newest 'technology,' A-JO will be superimposed on the old models of adult actor to deliver their lines to his/their own young clone as he learns a little bit about growing up and watches one older self carry on questionable relations with a series of young women and develop a gambling addiction.
Runtime: 18 min. x 5 seasons.

Wizards of Waverly Place: A car crash at sea separates the three Russo siblings, forcing them to bond with new wizards at each of the various coasts they land on. In a struggle to survive, they each ally themselves for life to their own tribes. What will happen when the three groups meet with intent to destroy one another...with magic?
Runtime: 45 min. x 3 seasons

Bones: An actual skeleton detective takes over for Boreanas's Booth as 'Bones''s partner and love interest -- i'm talking about a real walking decaying skeleton here -- leaving 'Bones' with a quest for a less confusing nickname, and a quest to be a better detective than the new 'Bones'
Runtime: 50 min. x 2 seasons

Smallville: A giant Clark Kent while searching for substance with his magnification vision comes upon a tiny town not unlike his own Kansas hometown. Still refusing in actual Smallville, Kansas to use his powers freely, he flexes his giant sized muscles to become the god of these microscopic race of people. His own super-laugh becoming the force that eventually destroys the only people who worship him.
Runtime: 15 min. x .5 seasons

Cupid (2012): Jeremy Piven plays Jeremy Piven in a Piven heroine Piven Piven
Runtime: 6 min. + commercials = 42 min. x 3 seasons

Glee: After winning State, Nationals and World championships for Glee-ing, as they do. There is one place left to conquer. Partnering with Stargate SG-1 creator Brad Wright, the show runners look to have the 'team' take on another dimension with their song stylings. Opening up a portal to Hell, literally, Hell, the 'song and dance'(?) men and women battle for the earth's survival and the souls of eternity. Finale: A medley of Songs from Christian Metal Band Stryper's 'To Hell with the Devil' album.
Runtime: 52 min x a single 75 episode season

Biggest Loser: Taken in by the 'real drama' created within the early episodes of any season from the show, the network executives recast the roles of the contestants, who then act out the transcripts of the words from the show. Roles will be played by: Hugh Laurie, Mariska Hargitay, Felicity Huffman, James Spader, Tyson Beckford, Terri Hatcher, Eva Longoria, Taye Diggs, and Victoria Beckham.
Runtime: 48 min x 1 episode

the best films of the past 10 years, an objective list that can not be argued

2010-01-20T09:29:00.009-05:00

I'll be limiting myself to 2 sentences about each. And mentioning a favorite scene.

10. Spider-man 2 (Sam Raimi - 2004) The movie mixed brilliant elements of elaborate stunts and well defined character, giving us conflict not just in explosions but in emotions. It paid perfect homage to its source material while still finding a necessary heaviness and an original voice in its new media. Scene: Doctor Octopus wakes up in the operating room and wreaks Raimi-style havoc on the staff.

9. Cache (Michael Haneke - 2005) An ambiguous and quietly horrifying, unsettling film about memory and grudges, personal privacy and the French occupation of Algiers. Haneke revisits the grotesque, from his over indulgence in Funny Games, but to more startling minimalism and more frightening effect. Scene: Georges' nightmares and flashbacks.

8. About Schmidt/ Final chapter of Paris Je t'aime (Alexander Payne - 2002/2006) (cheater) The sadness and desolation of old age shown through the long stretches of Nebraska highway. All this flat sadness, these poor interactions with one-off characters add up to a crescendo ending that turns the film on its own ear. Payne was the only one who seemed to understand what the compendium film Paris Je t'aime was really supposed to be about, there were enjoyable moments in the other chapters but nothing like this. Scene: Schimdt putting on his wifes facial cream in the mirror

7. Adaptation (Jonze/Kaufmann - 2002) They took the meta-film Being John Malkovich and made it a meta-element in this meta meta meta... Nicolas Cage shows that he has just been cashing paychecks since this because he was beyond belief good here in a double role as Charlie Kaufmann and his twin Donald. Scene: Any scene where Meryl Streep is interacting with Chris Cooper, particularly the phone call when she is 'interested' in things.

6. Royal Tennenbaums (Wes Anderson - 2001) Anderson gets his schtick on here before it was the thing people expected from him; he takes the mundane and drives it to the point of being a starring character. Spectacular performances by a wide range of actors, Hackman should have won so many things for this. Scene: Royal telling Etheline he has cancer, then briefly doubting his plan, then sticking to his story.

5. No Country for Old Men (Cohen Brothers - 2007) I didn't think I loved it, I wasn't even sure I liked it, but I know that one thing is true: I cannot forget it; particularly the music choice or the lack of any, taken in a wrong direction this bleak period film could have devolved into a suspenseful serial killer romp, but its silence and eeriness speaks volumes. Scene: Chigurh in the bedroom waiting for Llewellyn's wife.

4. Punch-Drunk Love (Paul Thomas Anderson - 2002) The absolute best abuse of typecasting was putting the Adam Sandler character in a world out of his own creation and making us actually feel for him the madness of emotions he claims to convey in his other roles. Scene: Barry in the grocery store, plotting and dancing.

3. Dark Knight (Chris Nolan - 2008) Not so much a superhero film as a crime movie with a hero in a costume; Borrowing from several sources and building upon a mythology long established on screen, Nolan finds an acceptable reality for a costumed hero to be palpable. This is what any block buster should hope to be: awesome effects and surprises, excellent characters and performance, never over shadowing a story with heft to it. Scene: Interrogation scene.

2. Waltz with Bashir (Ari Folman - 2008) A war movie without a hero was the aim in this animated documentary; like Cache, it served to highlight a near forgotten tragedy, though more in your face about it. Folman had been involved in the Sabra and Shatila Massacre, and had virtually no memory of it, this, with a remarkable conclusion, is his quest to sort out details through interviews with his fellow soldiers. Scene: Good Morning, Lebanon.

1. Ratatouille (Brad Bird - 2007) High aims for children's entertainment, this movie seemed to say just what I needed to hear, and animate just what I needed to see, with so little of its material having been said or done in mature films to such great effect. Amid directorial troubles and a cliched character situation, (an animal who wants to be like people? crazy!) this movie rises above expectation and beyond what it should have or could have been to become a criticism of criticism, a treatise on art, and an admonition against mindless consumption that so many feel the need to educate against. Scene: Remy speaking to his father outside the butcher shop.

Honorable Mentions:
Unbreakable (M Night Shyamalan - 2000)
Michael Clayton (Tony Gilroy - 2007)
Humpday (Lynn Shelton - 2009)

Sean's List

Good Morning...

2009-10-30T10:38:00.004-04:00

On finding that a.) I had accidentally bought frozen pancakes instead of frozen waffles, and b.) they seal frozen pancakes in packages of 3 instead of any sensible number for something that is so obviously toaster bound, I looked to take it a step further.
Microwaving the three on a plate to rid them of their initial chill, I then removed them and placed them on an already hot frying pan to crisp them in to wondefullity. Noting that there was still room on my frying pan, and having once upon a time tried the exception that is the McDonald's McGriddle breakfast sandwich, I threw some deli sliced ham on the there as well for a little protein. Still didn't seem like enough. I continued and have thus far ended here:

That's a bottom pancake with cream cheese spread on it (actually neufchatel, but it's basically the same), another pancake with butter heaped upon it, two slices of deli sliced, frying pan warmed ham, the third and final pancake layered with now-melted butter and all topped with too much syrup.
Good morning, indeed.

Update: 5 hours after eating this, I feel sluggish, hungry, light headed, my fingers are shaky and I hope I can make it up stairs to eat my lunch.

Movie Tuesday: My Big Fat Jewish Weekend

2009-10-27T11:28:00.004-04:00

I was keeping it kosher to the extreme, and mostly by accident:

Rape of Europa (October 2009) - This is another documentary about stolen art. This art was systematically taken by a political power taking over europe in the 1930s and 1940s. The Nazis were really terrible. Surprise! This documentary shows the history of the Hitler led infatuation with fine art, to acquire what pleased him and destroy what was inferior. Starting in Vienna and moving then to Germany, Italy, France, Poland, Russia and all over, this movie shows us the path of theft and destruction that the Nazis took until the downfall. Of note were the sections on the Louvre and the Hermitage, where people from all over the areas came to each museum to help empty it out before the Nazis arrived and to stand guard when they attacked. Such sacrificial dedication shown and not just for the sake of pretty pictures. The Nazis weren't only seeking to end the cultures of those they deemed inferior, they wanted to undo their existence and rewrite history so those people never had existed and this documentary, through interviews and narration and vintage footage, shows this extra step in a harsh and real light. One of the most indiscriminate offenders shown in this was Hermann Goering, he was just a funny looking guy, hard to put it any other way, but how they painted his personality, as this uneducated dandy who sought only the appearance of sophistication without the other trappings, really fit with how he looked. He was like a clown in every picture shown. Also shown was some rarely seen video of groups of Nazis following Hitler around art museums which is a weird thought, but it happened, and was a signifier of the longer-lasting damage done to a people and culture. The happiest part is when the German collector, who spends his time tracking down the bells that adorn the torahs at synagogues, travels to America to reunite the disparate scroll with its intended decor.

A Serious Man (October 2009) - The Coens know how to get it done. They really do. In the Jewish suburbs of Minnesota, Larry Gopnick's world is crashing down around him. His wife is leaving him, he's up for tenure and someone is sending letters to his superiors about him, he is under threat of lawsuit from a student for an unjust grade, his brother is living in with him, his neighbor is encroaching on his property, it's just about the bleakest movie one can imagine, bleak enough that it took two to imagine it. All these terrible things are happening, and no one can account for their meaning or what they may all add up to, the beginning is an all-yiddish tragedy of farm life, then after three rabbis who prefer non-sequitor to actual help, Larry is perhaps best served by smoking pot with the sexy neighboress. All one can do is react to the world given here, and it's a wonder to think about, and though bleak and dark and sad, still holds on to being funny in the face of that, though most of the humor arises from the absurdity of the situation becoming worse and then even worse. It ends in an unbelievably paced crescendo of tragedy stepped up from everything else presented.

On the way home, I picked up Max Richter's album The Blue Notebooks, which is a collection that borrows from Kafka's Blue Octavo Notebooks. Then, on Sunday we studied the book of Nehemiah in class.

Movie Tuesday: The Big 80s

2009-10-13T11:57:00.005-04:00

The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension (August 2009) - The cultiest of cult classics. Peter Weller plays the title man about town who succeeds effortlessly in any of his endeavors. He is a neurosurgeon, test pilot, musician, bujitsu master, marksman, smooth talker who is constantly surrounded by the (male) leads in their own techincal fields. On a routine test of some inter-dimensional jet car, the same technology that did his parents in, Buckaroo is transported into a mountain, throught the 8th dimension and back out. What he's seen, no man can forget. His eyes are opened to the dangers of aliens among us, best played by Christopher Lloyd, with the help of an electrically charged phone call from a rebel sect of the aliens. There is such a mythos built around the character in this world, that when a boy overhears a call for help on the radio, he runs to tell his dad that, "Buckaroo Bazai is in trouble," His father's reply is to gas up the helicopter, no explanation for why he should care, the world just loves Buckaroo Bonzai. One element I liked was the disavowal that this is the first or last adventure to happen to Buckaroo and the Hong Kong Cavaliers, other characters and stories are alluded to throughout. Also, Orson Welles is blamed for the aliens infiltrating our society, maybe more in this world or science fiction should be blamed on Orson Welles ("The guy from those wine commercials?"). I didn't expect Goldblum, especially in big furry chaps, and Lithgow was a pleasant surprise, even if his alien/russian self couldn't decide on an accent.

Repo Man (July 2009) - "Repo Man's always intense!" The Aquabats sample this line for their song CD Repo Man, and that is where my inquiry started. Repo Man is the story of Otto, a punk New-waver who won't take it from anybody, and gives it out plenty. Young Emilio Esteves plays the punk, that you wouldn't want to be around for too long, especially if you're his boss. He meets Harry Dean Stanton when he is recruited into the Repo gang after losing another job. Stanton brings on a faux sincerity and shares his wisdom about the game in his inpenetrable quotes like the one above. What starts as a good set-up for a crime movie told from the legal vigilante side turns into a science fiction punk rock story. The supernatural element is centered on the Neutron Bomb, a suitecase sized bomb that destroys all living matter in its blast radius but will leave buildings standing. Each of the Repo-men have interesting characteristics to enact, and throughout the story we follow the driver of the high-price-on-its-hood Chevy Malibu, whose every line delivery is ripe for the picking. The other source I've heard Repo Man sampled is from hip hop artist Busdriver, he took a line from the conspiracy theorist who rides the bus, 'because the more you drive the stupider you get.' Stanton is good, and I'd like to see more of him. The extra features on the DVD are led by the director, recently, as he talks to the cast of the film today, he also speaks with Samuel Cohen the inventor of the actual Neutron Bomb and watches deleted scenes with him. The 'creepy Malibu driver' Fox Harris appears in character as J Frank Parnell to rehash some lines of his long dead self. This movie came out the same year I was born and has an edge to it that I wouldn't expect in a punk rock scifi adventure made today, it would probably try to skew more of a PG-13 demographic for the $$.
Well, well, I just heard that Alex Cox is premiering a sequel called Repo Chick at the Venice Film Festival.

The Monster Squad (October 2009) - Back when kids got to swear and get into real trouble. Sean and Patrick are two troublemaking kids whose extracirricular 'monster club' is getting in the way of their school time. But when Dracula makes an appearance in their hometown, calling all his monster friends, they get called to take action with their intimate expertise on the chilling subject of the disposal of monsters. Starring all of the classic Universal monsters, Creature from the Black Lagoon, Wolfman and Frankenstein, this is an 80s adventure where cool kids really do smoke cigarettes and the 'fat kid' (not a minor character) is named Fat Kid. Of course, there is a rap over the credits, called 'Monster Squad', performed by 'Monster Squad'. It's one part Goonies, another part Ghostbusters but mostly just senseless fun.

Somewhere 'round the 32nd hour of Tuesday

2009-08-19T08:02:00.003-04:00

Andrew O'Hehir's article is here.

Mumblecore the Genre. Andrew O'Hehir at Salon.com made an announcement in his review for Andrew Bujalski's latest film, Beeswax. "Mumblecore is Dead." Being that I've spent so much of my Netflix queue with the makers of these films, I feel compelled to respond. It's an interesting proposition, though I can't believe it's entirely accurate. His stance is that the members of the group, this 'collective' of filmmakers who coined the style and (ab)used the term aren't making that type of film anymore, and that may be so. But this low budget, low scripted, intelligent and intimate type of film never felt like an end.

Would Bujalski film such a small idea movie such as Funny Ha-Ha, (the story of a girl getting a temp job, and trying to remain friends with her best friend who ran off and got married without telling her) if he had the funding and the time to make a much bigger film? While integrity says 'Yes! of course, he's the same artist, why should he change his vision!?' Pragmatism says, 'He's playing for an audience now, and with wider reception comes bending to convention.' That is not to say he's made a film to please investors, as I'm sure the ending is sudden in unresolved. But to say that he can make movies of his own vision within the more traditional media and diction of bigger films. Mutual Appreciation is a wandering narrative about complexities in relationships, and it could be said that its climax comes fairly early on in the film, with the concert. He has spent his time and his money up to now making great films with what he has and about what he knows. And now he's bringing his sensibilities to a larger audience with more traditional means.

I like Bujalski, I really do, but I think Joe Swanberg might be the dark-horse-golden-child-chosen-one of this class of filmmakers. He takes risks and builds on motifs like they are refrains. He tells formulated stories with beginnings, middles and endings that are beyond satisfying. All this while at the same time maintaining a cast of his friends dealing with relationship problems but told through different lenses.

The Duplass brothers have, to this point, been more in the realm of the typical genre films. They made The Puffy Chair, that was a road movie. They made Baghead, that was a horror film. Both of these with the producers own weird twist on the formula to make it their own. Recently Mark Duplass starred in Humpday, a movie that was openly compared to an Apatow film in reviews. But still they are considered a part of the 'Bedhead cinema' group. They give us emotionally bare characters often in intense and sometimes unlikely situations, thus even adding their own twist to what has been called the 'genre' of Mumblecore.

That last sentence is the bulk of the picture I've been painting here, I don't think Mumblecore can be called a genre. It tells intimate stories of different events and focuses chiefly on the people that make up the stories, not the plot. Dance Party, USA focused on a guy coming to grips with some terrible things he had done to a person, Quiet City was a getting to know you film in the vein of Before Sunrise. There aren't single types of stories that are told by the Mumblers, but they are told in a certain way. I can't listen to this compression of something so much more complex into something so simplistic. It's an ugly world in Hollywood, and the dream is that anyone can be included in what it does, that it presents stories through pictures and sound to make us feel and experience certain things. What Bujalski, the Duplass brothers and Joe Swanberg have given us a glimpse of is possibility. The idea that by bending the conventional rules and upsetting expectations on a small, often technical scale, each of us has a chance to be heard.

O'Hehir, I doubt that Mumblecore can ever be pronounced dead. (Unfortunately, the public's perception of a label is out of anyone's control.) But its headlining and originating directors and stars are being given access to more traditional forms of filmmaking because they took the time to hone and concentrate their styles and niches with these smaller films. It could well be that they have moved on from their 'Slackavetes' class of films, but for those of us who are fans, we will follow the people we like and keep an eye on the incoming freshmen.

Keep on Trucking!

2009-08-11T22:13:00.005-04:00

My friend Naomi, ( here ) had some pictures taken with her husband, Jamey,

and accidentally made up a new dance craze. Here's how it goes, make yourself about six inches shorter than usual, arms akimbo (almost punching stance, or 'like you just don't care'), as far as I can tell there are two steps: Knees in, and knees straight. Here's the most important part, do your best, try your hardest to look only mildly excited about what you're doing. It IS great, let me tell you, but the best part of this dance is not to let anyone know how spectacular it is.

You can do it anywhere! Harlem!

Cambodia!

Hop on the train! Make it happen! Other Catchphrases!

Don't 'hog' all my blog entries, bro [pun implied, not realized]

2009-08-05T14:25:00.006-04:00

The Maltese Falcon (February 2009) - I read the book over Christmas, and it was everything I wanted, complete classic Detective Noir story. The film was accurate to a T, which wasn't much of a stretch, but getting the feel of the story was a great accomplishment. Peter Lorre was brilliant casting choice. This might have been my first time seeing a Bogart movie and it was a good one. I saw the movie at the Indianapolis Museum of Art's Toby Theater, preceding the movie was an animated short... something about a dancing frog.

Casablanca (May 2009) - It's not the greatest movie ever made, but it's still obvious that it is rightfully a classic. Rick owns a bar in Casablanca, the last stop before the respite of America for many people fleeing World War II. In walks the love of his life from Paris who had stood him up at the last minute years before. He has some troubled past that we are not in on, and for the most part, it felt like she came off as an awful person. Classic charismas and beauties. A good story about tortured love and politics, particularly the political views of Americans early in their involvement in the War. The Warner Brothers (funny to think of them as living people not just a faceless entity) had always been outspoken in their opposition to the Nazi party and movement, and that sentiment, in the face of American un-involvement, is evident here. There is mention of concentration camps for dissidents and with that, the misunderstanding or mis-representation of their true nature. In all the seriousness and the drama and the romance, there were a few positive moments of humor that I really enjoyed.

the Fmumble! and the recovery!

2009-08-04T10:09:00.005-04:00

Hannah Takes the Stairs (March 2009) - Greta Gerwig stars as Hannah. Good credits, with a very home-made but not cheap feel. This was my first of the 'mumble-core' films. I didn't care for the story, Hannah just leaves her cool
boyfriend and a starts dating all the her other guy friends. These actors are so comfortable on camera, and the way it is filmed makes it the most realistic scripted film I've ever seen. It becomes hard not to believe that these people didn't actually go through everything presented in the film. In the end, I wished that there were more Mark Duplass in it. I thought the Brian Duges character was a little out of place in such a real world setting that the other characters live in, but in real life, some people are just wierd.

Mutual Appreciation (March 2009) - Some big city meandering, and praise of altruism. Conversations and performances, drugs and alcohol, record deals and credit cards. Alan (Justin Rice) moves from Boston to New York in hopes of moving forward with his band, that just broke up. He promotes on a radio show, finds a stand-in drummer and hooks up with the DJ. The guy looked like Amir Blumenfeld from CollegeHumor.com. The big centerpiece of the movie is his show on Thursday, as a showcase of both the actor and the musician, this film won me over. The music is from Bishop Allen, with Justin Rice as the lead singer. I've looked them up since then and they are a good band, too. It's in black and white, and there was less music than I would like, but it's personality, personal-ness and intrapersonal difficulties were all top notch. I really enjoy how we are privvy to these quiet conversations that aren't plot plot plot, but just the way people communicate. It reminded me, in that sense of the scene in Breathless in the bedroom, where the two characters are essentially trying to keep one another from leaving.

Baghead (April 2009) - Another Duplass Brothers film. Their follow up to The Puffy Chair, conceived while driving through the woods one night after filming a day of The Puffy Chair. It's not gory, it's not over the top, its really just enough to be scary. More of it is the atmosphere, and the feeling of fear overcoming the characters as what they create, inexplicably comes into existence, than showing all the details. It had it share of funny moments, and its frustrating romantic-mishap scenes. It's a good watch, and a promising look at low-budget films that are coherent, a worth-while. Funny was the film festival at the beginning and the groups attempt to get into the party. From there the group goes out to a cabin to try and make a movie, their movie idea quickly becomes about writing a movie in a cabin and scary things that would happen there, then scary things start happening there, to them. Greta Gerwig plays a fairly flawed character, but still so likable compared to the other girl.

Titles Betray Catharsis

2009-08-03T15:56:00.003-04:00

A quick wresting match with airplanes.
Back in the …eighties? …nineties? Not sure which, but in recent (failing) memory the government approved a financial bailout to the flailing airline industries so that they would not fall prey to the capitalistic survival of the fittest that they would otherwise so loudly praise. (respire if this sounds familiar in 2009, good.) On an earlier flight this morning, during requisite announcements, it was mentioned that this particular flight was ‘cash-free.’ That doesn’t scream of legality to me, being that the dollar I hold in my hand, occasionally, states that it, itself, is legal tender for all debts public or private. (I believe the ‘public or private’ addendum to be all of redundant, clarifying and necessary. In this case it is like a nail in... well it’s not really a coffin or a nail. I’ll say it’s like the ‘gum' in this ar‘gum’ent)
I then began forming my reasons, accusations, and belligerently phrased questions,
‘Well, how can you do this?’
‘This can’t be legal!’
‘What does this dollar say? Read it aloud to the growing crowd!’
‘Don’t make my money a LIAR! Don’t do it!’
I have good ones, too, not just neglected designs on a world-widely failing sheet of paper. We are in a little bit of a credit crisis, no? It would seem logical to deal in all currencies, particularly real ones, so as to cater to, and reap profits from all possible consumers. People don’t want to deal in credits or charges to get their Monster Energy Drink. Interest rates on a plastic glass of white wine, IMAGINE!
Next are the crazies… or the adulterers who don’t want their purchase of an airborne Tequila sunrise to be reported to the new world order… or their distant and distanced spouse.
After the crazies come the idealists. ‘The government throws you a lifeline, in that decade not so long ago and you people, that’s right you people, repay them by abandoning the common people’s government issued form of wages to fund the private banking companies and credit thieves in Delaware? Ohhhh, that’s low.’ (on the fly (haha) I’m actually a little impressed with this one myself, being that the credit companies are rocking out like Kate Winslet at the end of that Titanic movie. What if the ‘script’ was ‘flipped’ and it was Leonardo saying ‘I’ll never let go,’ That’s the situation I describe here.)
They say that this is the way things are going. Every flight will be a ‘cash-free-cabin’ Also inevitable is the standardization of Wi-fi internet on all aircraft. It, too, is coming. And, with that come the omniscient/faceless Hackers. And, where there is information to be found on an open or closed but still accessible network, it will be harvested. So, while an individual plane could argue that it is simpler and more cost effective and safer to keep no cash on the flight, it will soon risk not the few hundred dollars in physical greenbacks that used to populate a plane, assuming one would risk life and limb to actually hold up a plane like a ‘30s bank robber. But, with Wi-fi and the fake-money-only rules and standards on their way, so, too, come the risk of hundreds of thousands of dollars of passenger money and that risk must be calculated when on considers purchasing a Jack and Coke with no ice mid-way over the Eastern seaboard.
Landed, on a layover, having armed myself with an arsenal of well-reasoned passions and convictions, (upgraded for free since I started with just worries and wonders) I took to the information desk. Not one that was anywhere near my next flight, it was an extended layover but I wasn’t risking temporary holding cell or being recognized at my gate as the guy who called the informative desk workers ‘rebel facists’ or ‘the flag wavers of card carrying ungrateful industry beggars.’ I took these arguments to a desk in the form of a concise
‘Tell me about your cash free flights’ I first looked for an uncrowded desk so I wasn’t ruining anyone’s flight time or preference for an aisle seat with my idle, yet very important fighting of injustice. They politely explained that it is ‘more economical’ for the airline. It removes the worry of having to ask around the cabin for change. I tried my best to maintain a disapproving ‘I don’t quite get it’ stature, without coming off as stupid, or allowing my seething molten fury to show through. It was then that it became clear, one of these helpful ladies mentioned that she does not drink on flights. Lights came on: It’s only for alcoholic beverages (and Monster Energy Drinks), soft drinks, water and coffee and even tea are all provided by the airline. It is strictly on the luxury items that ‘the Benjamins’ would find themselves without a paddle.
BUT! BUT! BUT! My dollar still says ‘ALL Debts!’ George Washington could not tell a lie! So why are you doing this to the oaken-toothed one!? It was then one of the ladies asked if I wanted to purchase a drink coupon. And at the same moment that my argument, like a poodle and a still-burning cigar in too long a joke and far to esoteric an analogy flew out the window. If a Southwest customer really wanted, NAY, really needed an alcoholic (or Energy) based drink but did not want to divulge to any Aviation Authority or Big Brother their Credit Composition, they could with no trouble, but knowing before boarding, purchase drink coupons at the information desk (well-stocked with helpful women) with nothing more than the right amount of cash and probably an ID.

New Week, New Wave

2009-06-02T14:46:00.005-04:00

Looking at my Flickster account on Facebook I realized that I have seen several movies, several several movies that I don't remember feeling any distinct way about positive or negative, thus the 2.5/5 stars. So these quick reviews, coupled with my Netflix account are my attempt to halt this practice of 'forgettable film viewings.' Because it was the best film of 2008, barring Waltz with Bashir (I saw that in 2009) many of these movie-reviews/summaries will contain reference to The Dark Knight.

The 400 Blows (March 2009) - What is often called the first of the French New Wave movement. Truffaut's first autobiographical film delves into his rough childhood as the unwanted son of a free-wheeling mother. He acts out, maybe to get attention, but more likely because he doesn't want to fit into the confines of the path layed out for him. What is the star of Antoine's rebellion is his sneaking into the cinema to waste the day away after he has left school. This is where Truffaut found his true love. He had worked as a film critic before he wrote, basically, a list of theses about all films and how they could be better. After that he was doomed to be a filmmaker, and put his money where his mouth is. A key scene was when Antoine was caught 'plagiarising' a passage from French writer Balzac. This is interesting because it was this kind of re-appropriation of theme and style that Truffaut would be 'guilty' of in most of his films.

Godard's Breathless (February 2009) - A car theif trying to leave Paris, kills a cop and has to run back to Paris to hide with his American girlfriend. He wants to be Humphrey Bogart, he does this weird thing with his thumb all the time. I wasn't as taken with this as I would have liked to be. I found the jump-cuts interesting, as they provided an expressionistic/economic view of the world through film. It is cool. It is cool that the way that Godard cut the length of the movie because he was told by the studio to became known as a style.

Shoot The Piano Player (April 2009) - We meet Charlie a house band piano player when his hapless brother runs in to the bar looking for a place to hide. There are men chasing him. Soon after they decide that the best way to his brother is to 'get' Charlie. They follow him, a waitress falls in love with him, and he is forced, when they kidnap his younger brother, Fido, to return to his criminal family that he has forever been trying to outrun. In the process, we get a flashback of his old life, where he was a concert pianist who married a waitress that ended tragically. A lot of action, very little meditation, but that is for the viewer to consider on his own. It fun was having seen the audition tapes for The 400 Blows, that Fido was played by a little froggy kid who had sung for some reason. The meditation comes from the artist entering the commercial realm over the glory of the artistic community, just thought I'd spell that one out. I watched this in 3 sittings, because I'd start it later every time.

Movie Tuesday - BlogBuster Explosion!

2009-05-26T13:19:00.003-04:00

Watchmen (March 2009) - I was drawn in my the Noir-Mystery element of the movie. I thought the performances were great, particulary Jackie Earl Haley as Rorschach. A word about the opening credits. They were the best that I have seen in a movie, and I want to put some qualifier on this sentence, but I'm not sure one fits. (David Fincher has been slipping since Se7en as best credits, Reitman's Thank You for Smoking was good, and those fun 60's romps Down With Love and Catch Me If You Can stood as islands in the ocean of "white titles over establishing setting and mood.") As a whole, the art of credits has slipped in recent years, and these credits were used well. It would be impossible, in under 3 hours to cover all the story that was laid out in the comic books, in typical narrative form. This way, with the help of Bob Dylan, we get a glimpse of the satire coming our way, the depth of each character that will be featured, and the heroes importance to the world. The story necessitated these snapshots, and the director utilized them beautifully. A word about satire. This book is typically a understood as a satire of comic books and comic book heroes. (It's very complicated, to be writing something that is criticising the very thing you are writing.) So, being that comic book heroes are typical movie fare these days, a standard, and unfortunately becoming understoon as a genre, I wonder if they shouldn't have waited 10 years for mores and norms to arise in the comic book film and then adapt this social commentary to film form so that it can get more at what it is and make it more relevant to what it tries to align with. Just a thought.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine (May 2009) - An exercise in spoiling. For me the best part of Wolverine (the character) was his origin and the imminent mystery surrounding it. In the comics, it was 27 years of having a tormented mysterious character act out in front of us before a definitive origin story was publushed. Until then, it was so much of a guessing game, where hints and flashbacks gave us pieces of a puzzle that appeared pretty horrifying from what we knew. Because what our mind makes up is much more interesting than something fed to us from a single source's definition of what is interesting or worthwhile. That's why Hostel and Saw films are gross, and unsettling, but do they scare us when we think about them afterwards? Do we even think about or analyze them afterwards? So, truth be told, I didn't really agree with this film being made, there are plenty of Wolverine-centric adventures that could be had without spoon feeding us an origin story. For the most part it is a silly action movie. There were too many characters. The timeframe was impossible to pin down, which is important if they are trying to maintain a continuity with the other X-Men films, which 'they' seem to be. There were some decent fights, but most of the 'serious' stuff just felt like set up for why the next fight meant anything. Danny Huston gave an excellent performance as Brian Cox's Stryker character, that was my favorite part. Oh, can we just be done with good guys blowing things up and walking away from them like things aren't blowing up? It's really tired. Hancock, Iron Man, Wolverine. We get it. I was worried, having heard about the re-shoots that the film would have lost focus on the title character to set-up another franchise (the way they did with Daredevil) but the Wade Wilson thing didn't get in the way, and left me wanting more of Ryan Reynolds mouthing off and killing, so that's good. There was some yelling, maybe too much, causing one to forget that everyone in the cast (barring Will.i.am) has some strong acting experience. There were moments when the CGI was noticably unfinished and that is unfortunate, which is all that can be said. There are easter egg moments after the credits, which it turns out, are variable. So you might see one secret ending or another or even another, no one knows. From what I've seen online, they are equal set-up for different films.

Star Trek (May 2009) - Well-produced, well-written, well-acted and well, harmless. This was an action movie, there wasn't much more brought to the screen that we haven't experienced before, but it was perhaps, the first time we enjoyed it so much with these characters. I don't have a lot of background with the world of Star Trek, but I know that typically in it's original form, because it was a weekly TV show, it relied much more on complex thought and progressive message. That, of course led to didacticism with little veil of metaphor, preachiness that would be near appalling when tacked on the end of a film (see: I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, (but don't really see it)). It was all spelled out here, an origin story for the Starship Enterprise that I have seen more mocked than I have seen in its own form. There was little to figure out about its intentions that weren't intrinsic to the story, whereas, the Dark Knight gave us something that we are familiar with, almost archetypically now, and made us see our own world with its use of technology and power and choice. Star Trek was exciting, I was glad to see some grand explosions and weird aliens on screen, but because Sci-fi in film has become synonymous with Action, I worry that this new series (if that's what their going for) may never become important. Battlestar Galactica did sci-fi with political gravitas, and Dollhouse gave us a mental wrestling match over technology, progress and humanity. But TV has to be more about challenging ideas because not every second of a 26 episode season can be filled with swashbuckling and blowing things up. I enjoyed my time in the theater, but beyond this review, I doubt that I will think much about this movie afterwards.
Grazing over the blurbs on RottenTomatoes.com for this, I found quite a few backhandedly positive reviews people grading it well but giving it a pass in their comments. Like Brian Holcomb saying "the most startling thing about this new TREK is how it avoids being AWFUL." or Kevin Laforest: "A gigantic bore for more than half its running time, but it eventually grows surprisingly involving, thanks mostly to its great cast." (that's a positive review). We'll see how this one goes.

Multiple Mumblecore Movie Mentions

2009-05-19T09:46:00.004-04:00

The Puffy Chair (March 2009) - This seems to be the biggest of these small films that I've watched. It's a road movie, so there are several locations, and a quest to complete. At this point, I want Greta Gerwig back, but fortunately this is one non-stop Mark Duplass adventure. But if she had played the girlfriend, I would not think she's so great. There was a deleted scene that I think should have been left in, wherein the Josh character really speaks about his motivations for the way he acts, but maybe it was cut out so that the story didn't tell too much and just showed enough to let the viewer decide. Upon reflection, this might be the best offering of the 'bedhead cinema' collective, it's a cohesive story, it's well acted, the conflict is easy to relate to, as it's relient on our modern world, there is music and marriage and a big puffy chair.

LOL (March 2009) - Maybe best of what I've seen from the mumble-core corps. I really appreciated the interweaving of the youtube-like music collaborations throughout. I know that most all of the actors in this filmmaking collective are musical and it was good to see that as the focus of one of these 'episodes'. Once again, great performances transmit a palpable tension to the viewer. It doesn't the typical resolution of a Hollywood film, but it remains in its own real feeling world.

Before Sunrise (March 2009) - Linklater, Hawke and Delpy walk around Vienna for a night. Philosopy, experience and love are shared. It's everything I would expect a movie like this to be, but in the end it was lacking alot more Vienna. Perhaps the pre-cursor to this whole mumblecore thing I've been overdosing on. I wish that I would have seen this before going to Vienna, or even while I was there. But it's still fun to 're-visit' those sights and sites.

Before Sunset (March 2009) - Linklater, Hawke and Delpy return for more. They spend their day together catching up with one another on the past 9 years of their lives apart. It could only work as a sequel with the viewer having seen the first one. I loved the ending of this movie. This time, in Paris, we see the smaller parts of a much storied city, with shots filled mostly by the actors. It's fun to see their chemistry together and how they can still work together so naturally after 9 actual years. The special features on the DVD mentioned that they may consider returning to these characters again and again as the two actors age. That would really stand as a fascinating way to chronicle the lives and careers of these two actors.

Movie Tuesday - Mumblin'-more

2009-05-12T10:14:00.004-04:00

Kissing on the Mouth (April 2009) - Mumblecore. Hard Mumblin' Core. Hard Core Mumblin'. Joe Swanberg's directorial debut is competent and unflinching to say the least. I hadn't looked him up before, but he is the one responsible for the better and more anticipated 'core movies I've seen so far. It's starkness brings up questions about the purpose of film, the nature of the actor as character, and the importance of director as actor. I don't know if enjoyable would classify this movie. It was conflicted, and that wore off on me. These people make these choices, that I hate to see made, their flaws are given to us with no illusions about them. The sex scenes manage to be both intimate and scientifically distanced, but it's likely the character conflict that draws away from any more meaningful view of these relations as presented. When films are organically and on-set produced and written, etc. It's hard to figure that the makers had a mission in the films production. This isn't to say that all films have to have a message, and the vignette as statement may stand as important/valuable over time. If nothing else, it works as a snapshot of life, love lives, technology, and complex relationships in the 'naughties' (2000-2009). The film raises it own questions about itself and its production. Who are these people that film themselves and their friends in the shower and in comprimising positions? I know that now, two of the actors are married, but not two that were romantically involved in the film. They really go all out for their art, and are all comfortable on film. Too comfortable? Could be. Director Swanberg uses a device that he would apply in a different, less powerful, fashion in LOL: between scenes, and over some scenes where sound is not necessary, he has overlayed the audio of interviews with young people discussing sex and relationships and love, and it works here to great effect. Not for the faint of heart.

Movie Tuesday - Negative Nelly Edition

2009-05-05T10:06:00.009-04:00

The Guatemalan Handshake (April 2009) - If you want to be confused about the 'kids today' see this movie. I don't know how it ended up on my queue, but it's coming was warned to me by Netflix telling me it was being sent from a distant land instead of my local branch. That's fine, but it ended up at my house hours after I had put my previous two movies in the mail box, so it didn't even properly come here. In the introduction of the film, there is talk of demolition derby, which I think was used to have characters act however they want and 'demolish' themselves and others around them for seemingly no purpose. I would'nt want to pick apart acting jobs by people in this film, as it looks like most of them haven't done this before, but some of it was distractingly bad or over the top. The weirdness of the characters wasn't endearing but it felt more like an object for the viewer to make fun of, but not feel bad about because everything came off so artificial. It was an overdose on 'cuteness' and sophomoric intelligence for the most part. It's interesting that the website touts a quote from Jared Hess of Napoleon Dynamite fame, when the entire time watching, I felt like this movie wanted to be Napoleon Dynamite but try as it may, it was not.
--I just found out how Todd Rohal's Guatemalan Handshake got into my queue, he was a character in Hannah Takes the Stairs, Brian Duges. He had some interesting parts, he was made out to be the weirdest person in a film filled with realistic individuals. Weird for the sake of weirdness can work if it works, but otherwise can overwhelm and turn off the viewer. There was an outtake from Hannah Takes The Stairs where the Brian Duges character was sitting next to Hannah (I'm going to get this quote wrong) takes out his wallet counts the money in it and says aloud "Eighty-four dollars. Brian Duges." because most of that film is improv, that one thing alone makes him a little of a weirdness genius, but Guatemalan Handshake proves that a little can go too far.
I've recently discovered a small 'beef' between Wes Anderson and Will Oldham. Oldham called Anderson a cancer on filmmaking. This was in reference to Anderson's use of existing music in his films, as though he makes a movie and shoe-horns in whatever Kinks song grabs his fancy in the editing room. Now, people are allowed to have their opinions, and I would love to see his point, and was even coming around to it, then I saw this. Oldham himself covers a Kimya Dawson song in the film with a 'distant eerie tone' and lyrics that could 'intrigue'. I know he didn't make this movie, and likely didn't choose this song, but he did perform it, and specifically for this movie.

Perhaps it is my inexplicable distaste for the Moldy Peaches, but if they had asked me, the answer would be "No." Not that that alone would have saved this movie.

'Quirky' handmade aesthetic for marketing materials: Check.
Independent musician for some 'cred': Check.
A pregnant girl: Check.
Some mild slapstick : Check.
Silly names for characters like "Spank", "Ethel Firecracker", and "Donald Turnupseed": Check.

There were 12 deleted scenes on this DVD. And I had 1 of a 2 disc set. It also felt like a Todd Solondz movie, but with almost nothing to say. The thing is, this movie probably won't ever have a chance to bother most people because it ranks with the most obscure and weird that I'm not sure how it could reach the average person who wasn't even looking for it. For that reason, Rohal should be glad that he got Oldham for it because otherwise I can't imagine someone wanting to spend time with these people in this world.

Mumble-core MMTuesday!

2009-04-28T20:52:00.002-04:00

Looking at my Fickster account on Facebook I realized that I have seen several movies, several several movies that I don't remember feeling any distinct way about positive or negative, thus the 2.5/5 stars. So these quick reviews, coupled with my Netflix account are my attempt to halt this practice of 'forgettable film viewings.' Because it was the best film of 2008, barring Waltz with Bashir (I saw that in 2009) many of these movie-reviews/summaries will contain reference to The Dark Knight.

Funny Ha Ha (March 2009) - hmm Young adults in relationship trouble dealing with professional life. Well, that's the kind of movie these people make, and it works for them, and it works for me right now. Starting from the beginning of a phenomenon. This is an early example of 'mumble-core' and it shows, they are still well acted but the production is low-budget and lacking in professionalism. But they aren't professional filmmakers and that is part of the charm. It started the trend of the startling and fitting and just-right endings of the stories told. It's all well acted, and though they aren't saving the world from imminent destruction, the story is still good. I liked the part where Marnie makes a list of things to accomplish in her life. It's interesting to see things toned down to a graspable scale for these characters/directors: the turning point, where two of the characters butt heads was not over a car crash, or some big life risking action, it was where one throws a beer bottle off of a balcony. So, some complex relationship interaction, surrounded by loneliness and the search for new friends in the face of growing up. I don't have a rating system for movies... I don't think I'll get one.

BOOKS, CLOCK, CUTS

2009-04-27T22:29:00.003-04:00

Here's what happened: I was in the basement like I always am, and Jake was two floors above me minding his own business, I expect nothing more. Then I took my utility knife and applied a little too much force, and slipped a little and then

and I thought, 'well, that's no good.' I gave up for the day... and actually a few weeks. It was small but symbolic, as I grew further into the book, I've grown more frustrated and hurried. So, I fear, one night I'd be cutting in the basement Jake would be upstairs or even out of the house, unable to hear my desperate cries of blookdy murder. So I chickened out. I have since moved upstairs to work. But before I did:

we have an iron.

Movie Tuesday! - The Documentary Edition

2009-04-21T21:15:00.005-04:00

Looking at my Fickster account on Facebook I realized that I have seen several movies, several several movies that I don't remember feeling any distinct way about positive or negative, thus the 2.5/5 stars. So these quick reviews, coupled with my Netflix account are my attempt to halt this practice of 'forgettable film viewings.' Because it was the best film of 2008, barring Waltz with Bashir (I saw that in 2009) many of these movie-reviews/summaries will contain reference to The Dark Knight.

Billy The Kid (March 2009) - This is the documentary about a boy in Maine, who refuses to conform to the rest of the high school status quo. He's a little eccentric, and might display some characteristics of someone with autism or something else. He speaks like the proverbial 'old soul' but I imagine maybe that comes from being around/accepted by more adults than children in his development. Most of the film can really be gathered from the trailer, but there are a few surprises in there, too. It was interesting to watch the director talk about how they found him, and how the story told in the movie formed on its own, as reality is wont to do. But that interview is in the special features, and not part of the film. We, the viewer, are left to figure out much of this boy and where he will go or what makes him how he is. There is little being 'said' here as much as a portrait is being shown to us. That does not make it any less interesting.

Apple.

2009-04-21T10:59:00.002-04:00

If the newest iMac had a Blu-ray player/burner, I would buy one right now. I mean right now.

Movie Monday

2009-04-13T21:48:00.005-04:00

That something may be done - Movie Tuesday!

2009-04-09T11:40:00.006-04:00

Here is some more

2009-03-18T20:11:00.004-04:00

So here is an image of the growing maw i have carved in this book:

The way it was becoming so conically centered to the bottom i think it is beginning to look like the sand creature in Return of the Jedi

So I did what i had to, though i didn't really want to. it was either this or buy sharper knives, (which may happen eventually anyway):

I cut open the back and i will cut at the hole from under the mass of pages

As is taped here:

here is my growing pile of now-dull blades:

I've started the ol' cutting

2009-03-09T21:46:00.004-04:00

I go to my basement some days and cut for an hour.

Here is the clocking device, laid in its marks that will form the hole that will house its works.

Highlighted here are the strips of tape, that I thought would protect the corners better than it turns out they do.

I re-edited this one, not realizing I had already done so, but I think I like this one better.

The second most up-to-date photo of the growing maw.

Who Do You Think You Are?

2009-02-28T18:08:00.006-05:00

For a while the pictures will be kind of boring (ha ha) as I am cutting deeper into the book. So I'm padding it out with these slightly related posts.

What Gives You The Right?

pretty unassuming, right?

These are some pictures of a previously and successfully finished project of a similar nature to this whole clock thing. I used this book to lug around all my pencils and pens across Europe.

A few pages of cover, with notches cut out on the corners to facilitate a non-working velcro latch device. too bad, I settled for a rubber band. a series of rubber bands as they snapped sometimes.

And above is a look inside of the box. there is a ruler that i picked up in London at the national gallery. for an eraser I kept a putty-like kneaded eraser in there so it could hold any shape i was able to fill in the little space i had.

here is a close up. With as little as i flew around Europe, i was only asked about it once. It was passing through customs back into america. "Did you do this?" was the question. man i wish people in those positions could take jokes.

ITS GLUE

2009-02-24T20:26:00.003-05:00

To protect the first few pages from glue, i wrap them in the finest of Kroger bags.

Here is another step in the process. It's glue!

Once that is done and it has had time to dry. the pages form a solid box of paper. as such:

Adios Mr. FEAN

2009-02-22T19:32:00.007-05:00

Here is a view of all the supplies, there is glue, there are brushes, there are utility knives (3 for a dollar) and there are comic books... i need to have at least one surprise, the comic books will be it. there, of course are clock innards and lastly there is a big huge book. It only cost a dollar and has (probably) no literary value, so i don't feel bad about cutting it all up.

side note: a great big text book only cost a dollar. oh what a world.

there is the little matter of the identification scibbed on the side of pages. so before i brush this down with glue, i will whiteout the name, as follows.

Final result w/ the secret help of photoshop

yay New Post! New House! New Project!

2009-02-18T18:35:00.005-05:00

In my house there is a mantle and i keep glancing at it to see something that is not there, a clock. remembering that i once saw a clock made of books, i thought: i will buy it. problem. it is made in England and out of stock. then i thought, I will make it. I'm sure there are instructions online. there are not. so now i will make them. i am making the instructions for a clock made of books where the face is the spine (sounds like a an H. R. Giger painting). I have done something like this before, i made a box out of a book for my pencils and pens for when i was traveling, so i have some idea what i am doing, but not to this scale. bear with me, be patient, wish me luck.

Stage 01 Planning: (I actually did this in my head first and then did stage two, only to come back to stage one, so i have something to show for it.) Stage 01 Planning:

This is the flattest boringest look of the thing. but it is how it would best be viewed.

Here are some angles and ideas. perhaps velcro... perhaps not. i can't say til i get there. As you can see i have some clever ideas for the adjacent books, I am editing some classic sci-fi novel covers that i found on a website io9.com. my progress on those can be followed on my other blog 'a coating of salt'.

the (yellow) blueprint and cutaway. there is a compartment for the mechanism of the clock, and a bigger compartment apart from that to make the book lighter, because as the mechanism is about 2-3 inches wide, its going to be a thick heavy book.

Politico

2009-01-07T19:06:00.003-05:00

a political cartoon? nahh

I found this on the BBC news website, I had to take it with me. John Waters' advice to the president elect got INTERnational coverage. it must be some good advice. I might read it sometime. But for now, I'll make fun of it.

60th Post

2008-12-09T22:12:00.003-05:00

I actually think that I have enough material to warrant two separate blogs.

http://coatingofsalt.blogspot.com

welcome.

Synecdoche, New York

2008-12-09T11:25:00.004-05:00

Not a review. Just some ramblings.

So, why were clowns taking over the city?

This film is about trying to make something true, and real in a world that so often strays from that. The world I am referring to is both the one that Kaufman creates and the one the we all inhabit.

No, this movie is about dying. It's about growing old and trying to recreate and recollect the events from your life in a form that just makes a singular sense.

Or, could this film be about art? Is it the praised simple complexity of indie film with it's 'singular effect' achieved so well, over the vapid vacancy of the studio art film that has so many parts to it that any meaning and truth is boiled out and diluted? Like a 'magic eye' picture so complex it makes a single basic picture, and how interesting or clear and dissectable is it when you have to look at it 12 inches from your face with your eyes crossed? I think this idea is explored with the grandiose of the city-sized theatre versus the absolute minimalism of Adele's art. If trying to be true and real (really real), can a single idea be conveyed?

I'm concerned that most of this didn't happen in our sort of reality. But with that voiced concern drives the point that no movie ever has been set in our reality. There, of course, have been films set in our kind of reality, but with editing, truncating and summarizing, it has to be evident that an objective truth provided by one person or small group of person depicted in film is an absolute impossibility. In his quest for the portrayal of truth the main character ends up directing actors having a conversation that will never be seen and only muffledly heard. This is the insanity of micromanaging and taking full control of a situation that he himself has created from top to bottom, character to character, inside and out and inevitably loses any semblance of control only to be the object of someone else's direction.

Well, obviously this film is about dating, or the mortgage crisis, or totalitarianism.

There is an immensely detailed and subtle world shown, briefly, to us, outside of the production. Making this movie indescribably thought out and plotted. It was just over 2 hours, but it felt more like 3. But at the same time it gave me so little of a world that I wanted to know so much about. So much was left off screen and off stage for us to figure out and accept. This story is desperate and sprawling, obscenely ambitious and depressing, funny when not being sad, funny when being sad (and there is a ton of being sad). Over all, I'm glad that I saw it but, likely won't seek it out for further viewing.

Kaufman's Being John Malkovich is about acting.
Kaufman's Adaptation is about writing.
His Synecdoche, New York is about directing.
All three are about creation and interpretation.
And Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is about destruction.

What is this movie really trying to say? And why were clowns taking over the city?

The absolute Final post regarding my painting until next time.

2008-12-07T14:13:00.004-05:00

Here are the next three commemorative postcards.

This will make sense later:

I took special care that the ATL was in a place where it would not be obscured.

Here's another, in a different section of the painting.

And one more, I think this is Minnesota, or Milwaukee.

This is yet another of the mini-views, this is my 'signature' on the back of the canvas.

This was the presentation at the party. Where I found out that it was not completely dry. I'm sure it is now. maybe.

Here is the last of them, with a key.

A. Stage 01. Made of blocks of three colors with smaller sub-colors within them. I knew that I wouldn't be able to mix a large enough amount of each basic color of the paint, so I devised to work in blocks that were subtly different from one another. Shortly after I started painting, I realized I had thrown out the idea of subtle difference of shades. And i went with it.

B. This is the newspaper clipping that I found in the office that I decided was the perfect size to make my sub-color blocks out of.

C. Stage 02. I traced the outlines of all of the major Baseball parks based on their seating arrangements. I placed them in their relative locations if the U.S. was a big square. That's what the rocks were for.

D. These are the cut-outs of the parks that were outlined.

E. These are all the rubber stamps of the letters that I used to label the parks and sign my name.

F. The big tree. It outlines the MLB guy from that logo. But hopefully is more interesting and maybe more cryptic. It's a bare tree, because of fall and when the world series is played, etc. I projected a tree I made in photoshop and traced it then painted over the tracing. it was a pretty simple and cool process of turning pixels to paint. I might want to do that in a more exact and detailed way sometime...later.

So that's that painting. 2 months of work, I hope it is well liked by the guy who paid for it. I am off the market for these things for a while. So give me some time to recover.

More of the Finalities

2008-12-04T18:29:00.002-05:00

First here are some more of the invitations.

This was the presentation of the painting, ready to be unveiled later that night.

This is a smirched version of the actual final painting. next entry will be a full reveal and a break down of the painting in normal color and shape.

patience, patience

#ffffff

2008-12-02T19:11:00.006-05:00

This is done completely by the way... we even had a party:

I cut out images from mystery novels and pasted them on top of pages from the mystery novels. Then I brushed 'Phanco's Mystery Art Party 11-28-08' in India Ink. then I glued the whole thing on the 'Paint Your Own Post Cards' that I bought at the National Gallery in London. I took a stab at it the night before and made 12 on a whim. The party had exactly 12 guests.

Above is the end of stage 01b. complete.

Above is the beginning of stage 02. The rocks held some things down.

This is the end of stage 02. twisted.

back to the painting

2008-11-27T00:03:00.001-05:00

so many posts in a day.

there's no lakes part II

2008-11-26T16:05:00.000-05:00

It's that time of year again, when children come home and visit for a few days late in the semester. you saw them last maybe labor day, before those fall break trips, when they were two or three dating relationships younger... innocent. The boys come home looking more independent than you last saw them. They have that look of making their own decisions about who they are which is only evident in their appearance. A kind of late semester facial hair just screams independence they way a haircut and a new razor never could. They all sort of wake up one day and though their choice is a passive one, it is a choice: a choice to look like they made no choices at all.

The College of St. Expeditus, here in town, has made several attempts to keep the appearance of the student body as appropriate to the founders and academic board as possible. The first step has been the addition of the hair salon up by the student center. Problem being that there is no amount of effort or money small enough to drag the single boys to the campus hair salon, so often it is only populated by older women from down the street and out of state girls who just haven't found the special someone either to cut their hair or to appreciate it how it is.

Caleb Thursby had driven home for his thanksgiving holiday. Almost driven home, I should say. outside of town there is a truck stop where, until Wednesday night, he had never felt the need to park his car. He had been sitting at the bar in the cafe there, sipping his bottomless cup of coffee for about an hour, wondering. Through some fault of his own, he missed some morning classes and left for home early, so no one was expecting him for another hour or two. The waitress, so compulsively filling his mug, could tell a truck driver when she saw one and knew that he was not one.

"Been out for long?" though she pretended not to, topping off his coffee. He was slowly falling in love with this young woman, who wasn't quite that young in comparison to him, but still. Every time she had poured his coffee, she took the saucer and spun the cup so the handle was facing him. He had tested it twice, leaving it one way or the other, and every time she left, his cup was full and handle was accessible to him alone. At that moment, he decided that it was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him. But an hour of truck stop coffee can do strange things to one's memory.

"Hm?" was his only reply. She shook her head in a way that made him like her all the more.

"Can I get you anything else before you head out?" she asked. Though not trying to be rude, she knew that anyone who has been at a cafe in a truck stop for an hour had to be going soon.

"No, that's okay," he replied in almost a whisper. "I'm not sure if I want to go too soon, anyway." It's meetings like these, where both parties know that neither is leaving anytime in the near future, that tend to allow 10 to 15 minute pauses.

"Trouble waiting for you?" she asked. A group of truck drivers who frequent the place have a knack for old western dialect and conversation. It's something about these flat dry plains. She filled his cup again delicately turning the cup and saucer 90 degrees to the right.

"No, I'm headed home, I'm just," he sighed, "worried about the routine." Four or five days, four or five days, is all it is to kill the spirit of an excited active young college freshman. And then POW. No, not POW, its a hiss, a small hole in a tire that seeps the air of interesting-ness and youth over the course of that last day at home, it remarkable! He downed this cup of coffee quicker than the others. A few nights where he's not surrounded by 'the guys' goading each other to do something stupid for the imminent entertainment of 'the girls'. She filled his cup once more, turning the saucer a half rotation, as per his experiment. This time she smirked a little.

This was the time, he knew this, when he would set the precedent for every future vacation away from college. He would go home and eat the food his mother made, and watch the TV he couldn't at school, and walk the dog to the park and back, and take his sister to the gym and repeat and repeat, and it was just a frightening prospect. But as he watched that waitress, he realized he had forgotten how little it takes to be happy. In all his fear of routine, he had forgotten the beauty of the rosary, the joy of familiarity, the comfort of expectation without anxiety. He had forgotten home.

"I think I'll take my check," he said getting up.

"So soon?"

comments

2008-11-26T07:57:00.003-05:00

WHOA! my blog does not inform me when someone has commented on my post! thus in an effort to acknowledge so many unacknowledged comments I devote this post to replying/accepting these comments:

RE: "John Cusack Should Have Painted Her A Picture"

Amy said...
I am a fan of everything about this post.

Thank You.

RE: "Painting 02"

Hi! I'm Kirsten... said...
Cool!!

Thank You, as well.

Molly said...
So do your coworkers know that you have hijacked this classroom as your studio?

Some do and some don't, it seems like new ones find out every week.

RE: "Updatre"

Molly said...
So mysterious.

Yes, yes it is.

RE: "Completion"

Molly said...
$6.59? Have you been to Prizm Art Supply store by my house? I always swore everything was cheaper there.

No, I have yet to go there. This tube was from Hobby Lobby, the nearest artish store to my office. I should like to visit the Priz some time soon.

Amy said...
Is this North Carolina Ben? Because I know other people in North Carolina-you should deliver the painting yourself and visit those people

No, this is not NoCar Ben and the Ben who is nearest NoCar is in Virginia, but a Ben in Indianapolis. When Jaron visited I realized that there are a handful of Ben's in my circle. Brother, Abbate, Virg, Indy, OKC etc.

So, thank you all for paying attention, even if I wasn't paying attention to any of you. Have a nice day.

a break from painting

2008-11-25T15:39:00.003-05:00

Today I have spent too much time trying to figure out one fact. While I was researching some info for a different blog entry, I came across the names "Simon and Garfunkel", you may have heard of them. That got my mind wondering to an essay I recalled seeing its author read on the Late Show with David Letterman, (turns out it was during the writers strike). I scoured the internet. I'm a pretty decent searcher when it comes to these things, but the library of congress search engine was no help as I had no title or author, and it's keyword search leaves something to be desired. then the servers went down before I could really get a handle on it all. amazon was no good for subject, and its categories are too broad. another contributing factor is that I thought it was a memoir, or a collection of essays. here's what I broke down to do. I emailed the CBS mailbag. I was polite and jocular, brief but not overly short, in fact here's the message:

From: Zak Lynn
To: cbsmailbag@aol.com
Sent: Tue, 25 Nov 2008 2:56 pm
Subject: Guest's name/work

Hello,
I have been hard at work all day at my job trying to find out the name and title of a guest that was on the Late Show a few years ago. He may have been a former writer on staff. The info that I can remember is that he was tall. He read an essay from his book which was a recollection of different stories from his youth as he is running the New York City Marathon. The story he told was about an English class wherein he plagiarized Simon and Garfunkel's 'The Boxer,' reciting it as his own poetry, at the end of which the class joins in a refrain of 'lie-la-lie, etc.'. Any info would be a great help.

Thank You
Zak Lynn
Indianapolis, IN

Also, don't worry that my job success relates to my finding this book, it's just a slow day here.

Included in this message is all of the terminology I was using for the search on google and later altavista. it was quite an exhaustive search, i must say. and doesn't that sound like intriguing reading? so here was the reply I got in a few short minutes from the arbiters of the CBS mailbag:

from: cbsmailbag@aol.com
to: zaklynn@gmail.com
date Tue, Nov 25, 2008 at 2:59 PM
subject Re: Guest's name/work
mailed-by aol.com

Hi Zak,
Thank you for your recent note about the show.

Because of the volume of requests, we are unable to provide any information on previous episodes of the LATE SHOW. However, if you go to www.google.com, click on the heading “groups”, and type alt.fan.letterman you should be able to access a website where some videos are available by request. You will find chat rooms where you can ask other fans if they may know the name of the guest you are looking for.
Thanks for your interest in the show.

Your pals at the LATE SHOW

I would really believe that someone took the time to read that. Though likely the subject triggered the sending of a form letter, but I'm okay with that. I also believe that, yes, there are alot of guests, and yes, my criteria was vague. So, I went to the site recommended and found:

I am hoping someone out there can help with this, but I'm afraid it's a pretty obscure description. I am looking for the name of an author(or the name of the book), who appeared on Letterman's show, some time during the writer's strike (we think). What my boss remembers is that the author read an excerpt from the book, and it was funny. What he remembers about the excerpt is that it had to do with a homework assignment to write a poem, and the author chose to write the lyrics to "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel as his poem. The teacher liked it and made him read it out loud to the class. When he got to the chorus, everyone joined in singing.

That's all I got my from boss, but I told him I'd see what I could find out. Any help is greatly appreciated.

Very similar to everything I had been searching, and yet, regular google did not have the answer on hand. I was a little let down by this, google has the chance to put all its resources to use at once, to provide the most comprehensive search possible and yet, I am still left trying to contact humans from the outside world. It's unbearable.

movin on up

2008-11-20T19:41:00.001-05:00

Today I finished stage 2. none of which has actually been pictured yet, as i have a back log of stage 01 pictures. this is a picture of stage 1b i think we'd call it. the layering on of paint over paint giving a worn denim look. this is where fat over lean should come in, but that was an adage i heard only after i had piled on the first layer. thus, thin over fat.

but... what color is it?

2008-11-18T20:04:00.001-05:00

so much is done on this. tomorrow i hit the big time and will probably finish Stage 2 (of three) (none pictured) More later

dryer

2008-11-15T11:50:00.002-05:00

here is what alot of my days have been. drying. taking 1 1/2 hours of a day to watch paint dry

Completion

2008-11-02T15:16:00.001-05:00

...of the project? no way. of the first paint tube? yes

Updatre

2008-10-30T18:49:00.003-04:00

quick one: , Part 01 of stage 01, soon there will more painted on top of this that will still count as stage 01

Whoa!

2008-10-29T19:37:00.003-04:00

Here is an update:
I added the other colors sometime ago. they are as follows:

well that doesn't clue one in too well...

I'll try again

still a secret, but get used to it.

more to follow

Painting 02

2008-10-09T20:54:00.005-04:00

Painting from Yesterday. I've moved locations which makes my canvas seem alot smaller, i just need to trust that relative size doesn't change its mind and become absolute.
Here is the new locale, the canvas across the bottom of the picture

Here is my easel, it looks alot like a desk, but anything is anything if you put your mind to it.

Here is a negative view of what i could have called my first day, but i kept on keeping on, like these photoshop filters.

Then i mocked up my lil canvas so i could have twinsies when i get a little farther on.

And here, showing a little more than i would like is a filtered version of what i have so far as of yesterday.

Tomorrow a new color!

John Cusack Should Have Painted Her A Picture

2008-10-02T18:49:00.003-04:00

What you are looking at is the first entry in a few that will follow my creation of a painting. It is not the scariest painting in the world as I have offered that I know the solution to, but it is one that I am increasingly interested in. I have been asked by Ben, my recently CPA approved friend to create for his bare walls some art. From left to right are the objects in the picture (neatly filtered to look as though they were painted):

1. A mini canvas of equal tooth and proportion to the larger one, so I can see how the colors will look on the final environment.
2. A tube of non matching white oil paint specifically labeled for the purpose of mixing
3. A plastic pallet... figured I should look more like a painter... even though little of this will be done in the standard "painting position"
4. A large tube of French Ultramarine Blue oil paint of student quality
5. A set of plastic paint knives that could have easily been substituted with plastic eating utensils.
6. A large tube of Lamp Black oil paint, I have a lot of black in my painting.

The big deals about this
a. I have never worked on anything of this scale before, I have printed large things from my computers at schools and things but never had this much room to think about what goes where and how to take up space.
b. I have never painted before. Sure, there were moments of water colors in middle school but nothing beyond that, those were frequently a mess. And oils are a HUGE deal. they are expensive and messy and take forever to dry... but they last forever. and hopefully this will be the kind of thing Ben would not mind having for a while.

This is a photo of the canvas, also made too look as though it were painted. in the corner is a quarter for scale, but if you must know, the size is 30x40 (inches). I picked all of this stuff up at Hobby Lobby, which I go to every once in a while and when shopping try to play 'name that Jesus song' because they typically play instrumental/lounge versions of christian music over the speakers. So these items took two trips just for ease, and because I was a little unsure about getting the canvas, but I went back after all and went straight back to the canvases. And while I was making my triumphant return to the back of the store, an instrumental cut of "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel was playing. It was so moving and hilarious, I felt like I was rescuing this piece of cloth from the hard labor at the store, if only it had been "Up Where We Belong".

2008-06-27T17:17:00.000-04:00

Area Temp Says "Forget It, I'm Wearing Shorts On Monday!"

parallel

2008-05-22T17:20:00.003-04:00

There's a scene in Cinderella Man where a large group of men are waiting at the gates of the docks to get in and work a day. The Boss guy shows up and says, "I need seven men," and he picks all the guys he deems worthy to move packages for a day. I'm the guy standing in front of Russel Crowe, saying over and over again, "Six, Six, Six!"

Little pieces

2008-05-04T01:31:00.003-04:00

the lighting is good

2008-03-06T15:54:00.002-05:00

It tasted good too. Fried eggs (surprise) on Red Beans and Rice, on Ham, on top of Corn Cakes. Later I added a Cajun Garlic sauce and it was delicious. I would have included cheese, but it honestly slipped my mind as a possibility as I was so excited about the Red Beans and Rice.

so much for presentation

2008-02-19T15:52:00.007-05:00

Here was breakfast-lunch today:
Fried egg on top of sliced sausage on top of provolone on cream cheese on honey wheat toast (4 setting). Then a dab of hot sauce served with Apple Passion Mango juice.

Well, when I had to leave the room to grab my phone, I left the eggs and sausage on the stove and so ran the whole way there and back, and couldn't slow myself down when I did get back. Results: a torn slice of provolone and a broken yolk.

oh yeah, it was delicious.

at least it's a foreign name

2008-02-18T16:31:00.013-05:00

On Friday night I packed a bag and was feeling very tired, very early in the evening. that was good because the next day I woke up before the sun, I showered and shaved in a hurried fashion, so that I could grab a cup of coffee, some portable breakfast and drive to ...

DES MOINES!!!

I made it to the city with no stops, traffic or trouble. I then skated on in to the parking garage of ScIowa. The Iowa science center located on the south of the city. I prepared for the chance that I would be waiting for the person I was meeting and so I did. I walked around the garage, got a picture, and figured out the means of leaving, where one pays and the like and returned to my car to read until I was no longer alone. While I was meandering through the cold, I saw teenage boys going into the science center carrying energy drinks and video game controllers. odd.

Adrienne, whom I was with, and I had discussed that it would be a waste of our short time together to go and see a movie, Spiderwick Chronicles, ... in Imax... Imax dome. So we resisted that urge when we got to the desk, and settled for the 'experience platforms' of the museum. Pretty standard fare for a child-centered science museum. On the top floor we found this guy:

He looks like he's missing the bottom half of himself, but I assure you he is completely fake... I mean fine. What was odd, was that the people around us were freely speaking to us if they had something to say. that had never happened in a foreign country to me. They are very friendly in Iowa. Also on the top floor was the destination for so many kids with energy drinks. there was some gamers competition in the outer space exhibit, so I learned nothing new about our solar system. Then we went to the best part of any learning experience. The Gift Shop. I bought a tiny coffee cup and an even tinier-saurus rex. I came upon a bouncy ball that I subsequently threw down the stairs to watch the science that occurred. Here are the days souvenirs

After that we went to find lunch, a real Iowan specialty. But the place I had chosen beforehand was not coming easy to us on our travels, so we did what I have done several times in traipsing across a city looking for food, settled. We found Mickey's Irish Pub.

I had a Reuben. it was very dark in there and we sat way in the back so the sun was quite a surprise when we got out. While there, I found the LAMEST arcade game I can imagine its called 'Bags.' and its a Bean Bag Toss Simulator. 3d rendered, fully interactive, and completely a waste of time and money. It was controlled by spinning a bearing to adjust your velocity. I would have played but it was a whole American dollar to have a go at 'Bags.' Here's a picture so you believe me.

Notice that it's a Target Toss Pro... so this is good practice for those professional Bean Bag Tossers.

Then I checked Google maps on my phone again and found out where we were supposed to go for lunch, and found that it was across the way from a Barnes and Noble. A very big Barnes and Noble. From the outside.

The inside was really a lot of negative space, and negative space in a book store is wasted space. I didn't buy anything. Following that we found more places to shop. And these are places that we both have no access to in our towns, so it was really a getaway to visit so much sick capitalism. Best Buy, World Market, and then Borders. Which, though often smaller than Barnes and Noble, I prefer. I bought Jeff Mangum Live at Jittery Joes, because it practically jumped off the shelf. I almost left with a Rufus Wainwright CD but after checking my funds, decided against it. We sat in the cafe to rest our weary feet and read free magazines... I suppose its more read magazines for free, but they don't make you buy them. We were both in bad shape energetically, so after 20 minutes of nearly falling asleep, we realized that we were sitting in a coffee shop. duhs. I ordered a vanilla latte and when Cashier asked me what name it should be under for when it's done, I misunderstood the question and said 'sure' but quiet enough that it passed for 'Drew', I didn't go far anyhow.
After weebling around borders we turned to winding our day down and went for dinner at Chili's. I had the fajita quesadillas which, I think, are turning into a regular thing for me these days, which is out of character for me, to have a regular thing at Chili's.

So came the return to the parking garage to pick up car and drive home. We found out, after having bought the $5.00 day pass that at the end of the day, it's free to leave. so whatevs. About 20 minutes out of the city, I stopped for gas and took this picture because it reminded me of London.

Got home at about 2am and that was that. A day in sweet Des Moines.

You have new Picture Mail!

2008-02-06T12:20:00.001-05:00

The real winner of the Super Bowl party. Cream Cheese-stuffed Jalepanos wrapped in bacon. The loser: my arteries.

You have new Picture Mail!

2008-01-22T01:31:00.001-05:00

Dinner tonight was left over chinese followed by: Gouda slices warmed on country ham set on baked beans covering butter spread on Bohemain Rye toast. Chased with a diet cream soda.

theres no lakes here to name anything after

2008-01-15T00:19:00.000-05:00

Last night I was walking the town after dinner after dark as i sometimes enjoy, and as i passed the college near my house i turned a little more than usual into Garrison Keillor.

      School is starting back up again at St Expeditus College here in town. St Expeditus, being named for the Patron Saint of Procrastination, gets an extra week of winter vacation every year. Leaving its students at home for an extra five days while all their out of state friends leave, not to be seen again until spring break or sometimes later.
     When passing by on these silent thick winter nights, one can always tell, at least when passing the women's dorm, that a break is over. I'd say its the only time that a hug is audible. And not simply audible but confusable for an incident where a emergency call box might be a necessity. I don't knwo what it is about women, but they have expressions that manifest themselves repeatedly, like a one-hit wonder at a concert. They cry when they are happy, and when they are sad. They scream when they are happy to see one another or when they are fearful. How often do men give a high-five because they furious or chest bump because at a funeral? it's just not known to happen. So, I could hear the screaming of women because, no doubt, of hair colors of because of boyfriends, or other less exciting reasoning. Things are much quieter over at the boys' dorms, the sounds of car doors slamming and muted grunts as boxes labeled 'heavy' are lifted with only the slightest youthful independence and discomfort.
     This is the brief time at St Expeditus, while moving in, that boys are allowed in girls' rooms and vice versa. More often the girls 'help' the boys get settled, which is something that wouldnt come as first nature to me, but they are the women. They lift boxes for boys and expect the resident advisors to be fooled that their boyfriend 'needs' help moving in. But its a lie that they all cash in on and that we all choose to believe.
     Franklin Jefferies returns to his single room as well at this point in time. He's later than he would have preferred but the traffic coming across the rolling Iowa caught him and most of I-80 off guard, such is life, such is not buying gas at the last chance before a mile of stopped traffic. Because he has no roommate, he has no one to welcome him back, he also knows that nothing of his has gone and moved or misplaced itself in his absence. He opened the door to his room that was partially blocked by an old guitar amplifier that rest where, as expected, he had left it.
     Though he knew nothing had been moved, it still looked messier than he had ever remembered leaving a room. But, in that sense, a messy room can look as a classical painting. You can return to it several times, knowing full well what to expect, knowing nothing has actually changed, but you still notice something new and different about it. A live seal under a table, a dead rabbit in a darkened corner. (one of those is from a painting, and one a dorm room, but I'll leave you to figure that out.)
     Franklin is maintaining his early declared interest in the humanities and has come back to school with intent of being an English Major. Looking someday to rewrite the great American Novel. He has, as his Composition A teacher insisted, accepted the idea that every good idea has been taken and so looks to title some future work, 'Another Great Gatsby' or 'Portrait of a Different Artist As a Young Man.' He's keeping this status in spite of the fact that his grades from his first semester of college never arrived at his home while he was gone. Every day his parents eagerly checked the mail then would idly threaten to make a donation to the school to get them online capability, but this nearly put him into a fit. Then when he returned there would be announcements and plaques, things saying 'Thank Franklin's Parents for the gracious donation.' and all of taht is just short term. In the worst case it would be named the 'Franklin's Parents Memorial Grade Checking Website' or something crudely and backhandedly complimentary.
     As he set his second load of boxes down on the floor he heard a crinkle beneath the case of microwave noodles his mother had bought him. Moving the box he found a piece of paper he had stepped on during his first load he brought it. He picked it up and flattened it out. After his break with no word from his school, he knew this could a note that let him know something very simple or that started a very complex series of events. It was dated at the top as the day after he left for home before Christmas. He made sure, with the speed and information avoiding skill he had learned along his 12 years of public schooling, not to gather any incriminating evidence before he called his parents. The gist of it was not pretty.
"Mr. Jefferies..."
"...some review..."
"...an issue..."
"...lack of attendance..."
"...full academic dismissal..."
It was soon obvious that of the two possible consequences this would be the latter. He barely understood what he almost read but he couldnt believe it. But it all had to be put on hold. He went back outside to his car and grabbed his guitar. He phoned his father while he was as far away from the letter as he could get. It went how many end of travel phone calls go.
"Car made it okay..."
"Made good time..."
"All in one piece..."
"8am class tomorrow..." in a lull, his father overheard a distant scream from the girls dorm. "No, everythings okay, I think. Talk to you later." Franklin hung up the phone, hearing a response scream to the other, he felt that the screaming was the only thing that suited his current state of mind.

I think my version of Woebegone is a little misogynistic

The ob

2007-12-27T01:11:00.001-05:00

This is the obligatory first mobile blog post. I'm sitting mere feet from my laptop. (not pictured)

I'm sorry it's been so long, and that this is such a jumbled mess

2007-11-22T14:47:00.000-05:00

I took a trip to Italy. The old boot, as no one calls it. Here is a recollection of all the places and things I saw. Here we go.

Night train to Rome. I didn't sleep to well, here. Then, we arrived in the morning light over the city of Roma and went to our hotel. We stood, jumbled in the archway leading to the front door of the place for a while as the sponsors worked out our places of birth and names etc. You cannot stuff 40 people in a long area like that, that is an entry way to a public business, and not have to move every once in a while as a resident comes or goes. So, after the third or fourth time of telling people to move to the left or right to let people in or out, I shortened my call as two people moved from the door to the archway to: "Make a tunnel!" So, two confused strangers exiting for a day on the streets of Rome were surprised with an exit having fanfare like that of a high school football team. "Not literally!" I called.

Carpe Diem, Call 'em like I see 'em:

We, then, went to the great Colosseum. Here we are, taking a confused tourist picture, holding up the Colosseum. Quite the site that 'Seum. It's what you expect when you think about it, but it is awe inspiring to picture it all put together with 20,000 bloodthirsty romans screaming for a tiger vs gladiator fight. One thing that was over looked, at least by all the plaques I read, was the practice of flooding the floor for Mock Naval battles. Looking at the arena, I'm not sure how this would have been done, but it was an obscure fact I always remember from my history books and wanted to know more about. Then next door, we got lost in Pallantine hill, a compound of ruins. We didn't know so much about them, so I took the opportunity to make some things up. We found a needlessly boxed in area overlooking the ruins of the Roman Forum.
"Does anyone know who visited this spot in the summer of 1978? Sasquatch? No. Bigfoot? No. It was actually Harry from Harry and the Hendersons, a wood yeti, also known as a Sasquatch or Bigfoot. He came here and stood, looked out over the city and said, Rome, I give you my blessing. Then, he waved, he wept, he left."
It got rainy and cold here, but it was supposed to be heavy rains the next day, so we stuck to all the out door things.

Here is the Trevi fountain, it had recently recovered from looking like

this. All better now. People throw coins in, if they want to return to Rome someday, but Rome hadn't won me over yet, so I didn't throw.
The next place I went to was the Pantheon, temple to all gods. Paul was here once, I think. I didn't care for the outside, but the inside was neat. Since it's such an old dome, they still haven't covered the center of it, so there was a roped off area where the cold rain fell to the tile floor.
Then we walked to Spanish steps, they can cascade like no other Spaniards. At the top is an obelisk that was under restoration. like most of the things in Europe that are worth seeing while I am here. But they were grand and white and deserted by the time I got there. They could be really pretty in the daytime when there are flowers all over them, I got a postcard.
Near the steps is the most unique McDonald's in the world. It was regal to say the least. There was a gelato stand in the foyer across from the coffee stand. Then, down some steps and up some steps was a humongous dining area where they had fresh pineapple and other unique things. The bathrooms were wonderful, too.

--Now we are about two weeks since I started this post... so let's piece together the best parts of it.

The next day was the Vatican. Ooo that Vatican. Its the smallest country in the world, at least the EU. It's the home of the Pope and several popes in the past. There were several museums. Within that was some famous Raphael paintings. My favorite was one on the ceiling of a room. It was of a hall in a church with a crucifix hanging in front of a window facing out toward Rome. in front of the Crucifix was a fallen and crumbled statue of a Roman god. There were no people in the painting, only the statues and the dome of the Cathedral in the background, an interesting allegory told with 0 (zero) people.
A while down the line was the Sistine Chapel it was what it was and it was tremendous and hurt my neck look at. But it was pretty incredible. It's hard to think about undertaking that huge of a project with the help of any amount of people. But I think it would be comparable to making a movie in todays world, though with a little more permanence. He had this idea, he sketched it out, called all of his friends to help bring it to life, and with the help of a few Medici dollars, it was done. Director, artisans/teamsters, Producers, works of art. If only the major productions of today had as many important messages to transmit.

The next stop after that Rome was Florence with a bed like

this.
Florence was a little too touristed feeling. I spent the first day alone. It is good to do that in a foreign country every once in a while. Even though I would later be discounted as such, I was mistaken thrice on the first day for an Italian. One shopkeep asked me if I was Italian before I had said anything. An Irishman said, 'Scusi,' and motioned with his hands for me to take a picture of him and his family in front of the

Ponte Vecchio. Later that night, I was speeding back to my hotel to catch my friend Ben, and was asked for directions in Italian, by a semi-local. I think its obvious, Tourists travel in packs, locals travel alone.
I had dinner with

the Ben Lamb . We ate at a place that he frequents and may have sat next to Harry Shearer or Barry Williams, I can't decide, maybe both of their brother.
The next day I saw the David. It was really everything it is cracked up to be. you go expecting greatness and it is there at the end of a hall when you turn a corner. I wish that you could see it and it alone, instead of a hallway of other works of art. We were not allowed to take pictures in the Accademia, but there are always plenty of awkward postcard to buy. There was a painting on the way in that was called the Man of Sorrows. It was of Christ in the tomb sitting next to his grave clothes and the nails, just looking as though, looking the way a person who literally wears the weight of the world on their shoulders ought to look. He was contemplative and harrowed. I think many religious paintings, if you saw them actually happening, they would be very loud. and this one, without a doubt was a quiet image, and I liked to see the contrast.
Something modern, something grotesque. On my day alone I came across this statue that I wasn't sure what it was for, Ben explained it later but I forget now.

This is one angle, I saw this and thought, 'What a cool statue,' then I took some pictures and walked around it. Then I turned to walk back to the Uffizi to meet my folkies. And I saw this:

And I said, 'wow,' what a great graf-feat!' those Italians can art it up.

From Florence we went to the Venice and Venice. I dunno.

It started out like this and this was wonderful. Oh so good. It was sunny and the water was blue blue green.

We knew where to be and we could find our way. I, for the first time in any of these cities we've been to, kept thinking of books and movies and video games I had read and watched and played that I really wanted to watch again. (Never Ending Story, Italian Job, Tomb Raider II) and it was dream-like. Then we wandered and night fell and it turned not so good. We felt we had to go out, because we were in Venice, VENICE! It was colder, then it got rainish, then we got lost. We had NO idea where we were, I could recount all of our being lost and wrong turns, but you would sooner choose a different Blog to read. We ended up on a 6 Euro water-taxi ride back to our hotel.
The next day had a similar end, only colder and wetter. But a much tougher story. It was infuriating, I will share it in person and make you bored and angry with the human race. So I wish Venice had been so much more, because it started out that way. Sorry to all and to myself, but I was so frustrated that I stopped taking pictures, maybe I would have enjoyed it better if I were snapping all the photos. Our return to our hotel came to this: Amy bought a map, Danelle and I danced to 'Beyond the Sea' in a Glass store, We turned around and boarded another water-taxi.
So, Italy with the group got progressively more and more uninteresting and less and less functional. Soon enough, Deborah and Ben and I would go to Sorrento, a little below the knee on the old boot. We will visit Pompeii and the Isle of Capri. I will share those things later, we'll have a good time.
Until next time:

Keep cool.

Newspaper article for the Shield

2007-11-05T15:02:00.000-05:00

Wax Philosophic About Vienna

There are things, actions or people, often in our pasts, that our minds focus on and won't seem to let go. When left unvoiced they can become a lens through which we see the world. And so it's best, at this point, to bring forth one of my silent obsessions since we have come to Vienna. To start, the first of "old Vienna" that we saw, when we came here, was a statue in honor of Maria Theresa. She was a respected, old matron, mother of Marie Antoinette, and reformer of a dying dynasty. Right there in the middle of the city, she sits poised high above a grand court, with her arm reaching out over her people and in her other hand rests a stinger-- no, scepter. It goes on.
We set off for the train, waiting in the cool underground. We hear the hum and buzz of the train as it nears the station. It stops and hisses we step on, and fly away to the next stop to pollinate and spread last stop's passengers, picking up new ones to go and grow things that have never existed, combinations even Mendel never dreamt. In the reflection on the window in the tube, I see my reflection of the yellow of my T-shirt and the black stripe of a back pack circling my arms.
We fly out of the underground to spot the tallest peaks -- St. Stephen's Cathedral -- in sight. The most foreboding of the steeples is under restoration. From top to roof it's encircled with rings of scaffolding -- looking much like the mask of an apiarist. Once inside, we marvel at the accomplishments of man. "How could he be endowed with the vision to build this?" The answer is he was just fulfilling his purpose, that of worshiping his Lord, by making a home for passers-by and a place for the community.
Looking out, the hexagonal windows cast diffracting shadows on the swarms of people flashing their cameras, because their short term memories only last for five seconds as recent tests have shown. Leaving, the beggars in the doors, their larva --young ones , in tow, sing in desperation. They emit a single note, dissonant to the nearest fellow, causing this Buddhist-like drone to shake and buzz the passers by.
We stop for some nectar-- dinner at a cafe. Immediately, the sting of smoke hits us, but it is quickly treated. We take in the sweetthicksmoothness of a cappuccino in the land where it was perfected. We point our antennae to the subway where we carry more things more places, be they souvenirs or tips on the best spots to eat.
All of us are welcome at whatever stop we make because, at the base of it all, we share a common belief that, if our choices, feelings, and treatment are good for ourselves, then it must be good for the species as a whole. We spread our knowledge with our contact and our interactions, and regardless of what we think about our opinions, we all have something to share.

Every day I find more live bees in my bedroom. They are tired and slow, most cannot fly. They are dying. I do not kill them, as I have decided that aggressive actions against the dying are not necessary. They have been drugged and are spiraling and coughing for clean air . I have become a bit of a hospice for these creatures. I can live with the bees. That is what I have told myself since I got here. Einstein is often ill- assigned the statement that if all the bees perish then mankind will die within four years. From that we can gather the cosmic and ironic equation they have faced us with: a bee thinks, "You bother me, I sting you, I die," as they die whenever they sting. If we take our annoyance to the extent of reacting in a capital fashion, our thoughts are, "You bother me, I smash or spray you, and everyone dies." Genius bees. I would finish this thought by saying that we have so much to learn from the bees, but we already imitate them in so many ways. Marx and Napoleon, though not the most positive historical examples, were right in choosing them as an icon. A bee is a hard worker who understands, wholly, what we try so desperately to communicate the importance of: Community. And above all of the pollination techniques, the interesting choice of descriptive words or the selection of my wardrobe, Community is what I have found here as was promised before I left.

As a final step to this dance, a friend, whom I can now call a friend because of our time here, treated me to a gift as I was recovering from some minor illness. With no knowledge of my infestation in this golden-colored hive we call home or fixation in this hyperactive-pollen-hungry mind, she brought me flowers.

Shake shake shake, Shake shake shake, shake your Buda... pest.

2007-10-23T13:41:00.000-04:00

My trip to Budapest.

We arrived in the town by jumping off the moving train at the wrong station. So, this happened with Amy rolling on the ground, and myself stepping off successfully and gracefully 15 feet down the platform. I'll say that our impressions of Eastern Europeans were cemented in our minds as the people on the platform did not blink when we hit the ground. After this revelation to us, by someone who believed that waving motions and scoffing noises were more universal than numbers written on a page or anything, we literally ran to a train that started moving as soon as we stepped on. Then came the real Budapest. We met with a suspicious Tourist info provider that at first tried to convince us that 80 Euro was equivalent to 80 Hungarian Forints, truth is... about 19,000 (that's nineteen thousand) Forints were equal to that amount. So here is a picture of the money I withdrew from the ATM:

Bling Bling!

Our first mission the next day was to find the famed Budapest Pedicures for the girls... I forewent the opportunity to have my soles scraped. I then went to the House of Terror. Which looks like this:

It presented the history of its housing, it headquartered the Nazi higher ups in World War II, and the Communist Executioners until the 1980s. The most interesting, and I guess universal thing there, as the plaques and most information was presented in ... the Hungarian language, was the prison cells in the basement. I haven't spent a whole lot of time thinking about them, but standing in a room just big enough for me to stand in and do nothing else could really affect anyone, I think. We finished the night with bread and cheese for dinner. As the bellhop (they're still called that right?) was installing the DVD player so we could watch "As Good As It Gets," he asked if we weren't going to the party. Then he told us all the locations for us to be at the party, but we just stayed in that night.

The next day was a seriously cool location. We hopped the bus for the Statue Park. Memorial park is where they have placed all of the sculptures and art built to commemorate the Communist Heroes and state of mind. There's a mixed tone in the air. A confused one where I wasn't sure to be somber about what all this means or victorious that these people need not live in the fear of such corrupt power. I guess Rick Steves says that most of the visitors to the park are communists, so it goes. The sky was blue that day, so I got some very idyllic pictures of these monuments. Here's one:

And me giving a high five to one:

Also there is an oversized replica of Stalin's boots inside, where it was not windy or cold. Here I am with those:

(I think they are the second biggest boots I've seen in my life.)

Then we found a neat antique store where I bought some art... well I think they are just computer print-offs but I'll frame them, Oh, I'll frame them. And if it's in a frame... its art. Once that was done, I went to the better Tourist Info point and begged them to find the memorial of Franz Kafka. I could swear that I had seen it talked about on the internet before we left. He was born there, in Budapest. But there is no form of remembrance for him, in Budapest. Everything to memorialize him is in Prague, in a whole other country. Lame. So then we got on the train that night and returned to Wien for the weekend.

Saturday our plan had been to visit the village Melk for the day, but the forecast called for Rain and sleet all day so we nixed it, and went to the Kunsthalle to see the True Romance exhibit... all about love. Then on Sunday we went, in the evening to see the Strauss Ballet Coppelia. Its like Frankenstein or Pinocchio without much of any social importance. The last act was, as I said leaving the theatre, an ounce of Plot and about three pounds of dancing... but I guess in EU it would be a Decigram of plot and a Kiloton of dancing, but I've never been good at conversions.

That was another weekend, here in Europe. Crazy, dangerous, terror-fied, artistic, well traveled. come to Europe, jump off of trains, it's great.

Weekend at Bern-ies

2007-10-15T17:40:00.000-04:00

To recapitulate a fortnight of European Travel:

1. Salzburg.
Here, we saw the birthplace of Mozart. Woo. It was a nice town, we tailed some monks, hoping they would reveal to us the secrets of Salzburg, but for shame, we were just led through some construction and pretty much no where before we gave up. One of our numbers went to the Sound of Music Tour, after we spent some time in a park and a hedge maze.

2. Munich. I hoped to run into my friend from high school, Stefan, here. He was to show us all the wonders of his near-hometown. But, alas, our paths did not cross. So, we went through the history of the town, visited Hofbrauhaus, in the midst of Oktoberfest, it was the hoppinest. Afterwards, we went to the site of the actual Oktoberfest. It is like the biggest State Fair, but like 20 times bigger than you think you could imagine.

3. Paris.--- but before that. The train to Paris. It was pretty awful. But logically, it had every right to be. It was an overnight train from the biggest drinking party in the world. There is a detailed account that if asked for, I can, in person recount.

4. Paris.
then

It was great. I saw all of the stuff I knew I should. But the best time was the stuff that I wanted to see. We went, one night to the Left Bank, home of intellectual revolutionaries of the 60s and before. Namely Jean-Paul Sartre, whom i did a report on. As we walked by a cafe, the bartender there coaxed us into coming in. When we asked if he had any food, he suggested that we go pick up food, then bring it back to his place to eat it in seats he would save for us. We brought back pizza, and with the condition that we "air it out" before coming in, we could have the seats prepared for us. So there we sat and shared our pizza with strangers and had a grand old time.
I caught the tail end of the D'orsay as it was closing, and wished i would have done before the Louvre. Rick Steves helped me through the Louvre, and I probably should have left after he had finished his iPod tour. But a good day to see art, I had a good time there.

5. Barcelona.
then

I arrived to disappointment. I found that as we came on a Sunday and planned to leave on a Tuesday morning, i would not be able to go to the Dali Museum as was my only plan in Barcelona. But I did enjoy the architecture provided by Gaudi, and since returning I've been told i have a tan from my time at the beach.

6. Avignon. Small town, racked up a taxi bill of 20 Euro. Ate pizza (but that could really go in any of these cities) and saw the palace of the popes, Home of the Schism.

7. Marseilles.
Land of daily flea markets. Land of Track suits for 10 euro. Land of some gas related disaster. We got to see Chateau d'If (of Count of Monte Cristo fame) in the sunset. I had wondered where in France this place existed, and really believed it to be made up. But as we turned a corner, there was an island prison, and a plaque! that said "Chateau d'If!" wow! history all up in my grill! We returned to the hotel for homemade dinner and sleeping.

8. Bern.
O Bern. you were to be Geneva, but i appreciate your Bern-ness. Bern is the home of Chocolate and Cheese, knives and clocks, banks and neutrality. and secretly expensive shopping. Because they are on the Swiss Franc, things have bigger numbers on their costs, but you exchange things and its just confusing and you over estimate. But, it was a good place to have a last stop.

9. The train ride back, revealed the Alps to us and the water in the rivers that high up is so beautiful. It has this odd blue green clearish-opaque hue to it that is just beyond ... description.

So those are where I went and where i slept for the past two weeks. I had a good time and i hope we can talk about it someday.

The final countdown in Europe (haha)

2007-09-29T10:58:00.000-04:00

September, 29 2007

This is the last entry from the castle before I head out for my 10 day. But my ten day is a 14 day. It is our first time out on our own and the longest time. It's a little scary.

We've gotten a handle on the Viennese mass transit system and it great. There's an honor system about whether you have your ticket, and they rarely check, anyhow. They've never checked me, anyway. We have to change or buy new tickets everywhere we go which by the way is:

Salzburg
Munich
Paris
Barcelona
Avignon
Marseilles
Geneve
back to Vienna

And once we get back, we are here for a total of three (3) days. Three days to recollect our stuff for another period of four days of travel. BAM. I say all this with a tinge of annoyance. And I say it because I have been sick for the past 2 days.
When I left the castle on Thursday with the intent to reserve trains and to visit the Ephesus museum in the Hofburg, I first bought a liter of Multi-Vitamin 12-fruit juice to carry around with me, because I felt it coming on. I intended to carry it around town with me all day, in the hopes that I would be completely better after spending the day medicating myself with this healthy, non-chemical alternative. But as I reached the base, here, I hit bottom. My throat was in awful condition and my body needed rest, badly. I ate some chicken noodle soup, drank more juice, bought some cough drops (Ricola, the Alpine favorite.) Then went to my room and crashed (with an echo.) it was about 6:30p then and the next time I got up and left the 3rd floor it was 6:30p on Friday. It was rough. I am very tired of sleeping. But, on the bright side, there's a chance I developed spider-powers, right? Even then I was up for about 2 hours, and went right back to bed until 7a today.

I am feeling a little better, now, but nothing to write home about, which is kind of what I am doing here, anyway. My throat still is in pain, notably less, and I still feel cloudy and a bit lethargic, but I don't want to go to my bed.

Tomorrow we are going to Mauthausen for a tour. it was the last liberated concentration camp in Europe after, or during, World War II. It should be interesting, to say the least. Then on Monday we go back to the train station to start on our exodus across Europe. Some are jealous of us, but in this condition, I am jealous of those who don't have to travel. We literally can't be here on our two 10(14) days because the castle gets used for conferences while we're gone for those. So, we have to pack up the castle as though we had never been there and try to feel at home when we get back.

Off.

alpiest alps ever

2007-09-25T09:18:00.000-04:00

Here is the recap of all those alps.
This is Bedroom Number:

4!
This weekend we hopped a bus up a mountain, and ended up in a little town called Kleinzell in the Austrian Alps. We had been warned about a curvyish ride up to the top so I took some drama mean before hand which, socially, may not have been the best because I was all quoozzy when ever I did anything for the rest of the night. Once our bus landed we only had an hour hike to get to our cabin where our clothes and things, if we didn't carry them, were waiting for us after a tractor ride of shorter duration. We unpacked and chose rooms and took a look at the alps. this is the view from our deck at the Schwarzwaldeckhaus. It was funny because all day during the weekend, men and women and families would just pass through on the deck, I guess one of the signs said that was okay, or there was a trail marking next to our gate, but we always welcomed them with a cheery, ,,Gruss Gott!"
The weather was nice and I was comfortable in a zip up hoody, so if you make it out to the alps in September don't worry about a heavy coat. we had a camp fire on every night so there was singing, as can be expected, and it was warm and homely in the room with the wood stove.
The next day there, we had a goal. one of great importance that, if you had asked me before hand, was of much greater ease as described by Sara Barton. She made it seem this quiet march up a hill, with a light breeze and some silent devotional time atop a mountain where the sight of a cross surprised you when you got there. Well, we didn't find the trail, or rather, we had a trail that didn't take us where we wanted to go. Once we had reached the other side of the mountain, where we knew the cross was, we decided to make our own path. We climbed up a near vertical hill, with feet and feet of ruined trees and rocks and when we reached to top of that part, and found a clearing that led to a trail. That trail led to more mountain, but... we just skipped the trail and, knowing that up = up on a mountain, we crawled through some forest and found a tiny bit more mountain and a Nordic walker. which is a good sign, when looking for a summit.

Nordic walking is a form of walking using modified ski poles. It started as a way of exercising during the summer in Nordic Europe. Nordic Walking was first developed in Finland by Cross Country Skiers, who are considered the most fit athletes in the world, as part of their summer training. Nordic Walking combines the positive training effects of running combined with the advantages of cross-country skiing.

Where we followed him we found this:

and this:

i wasn't actually waiting there, but this lone promontory was.

quite a view up there.

Had it been as quiet and simple and solemn as Sara Barton had led us to believe, I doubt we would have appreciated it near as much. There was a sense of accomplishment and awe that was present when we hit the top. A feeling of community and trust in the leaders of the group to make decisions was instilled as we kept making the snap decisions to crawl under barbed wire and ignore the trails that will obviously be easier but may not lead us in the right direction. This struggle, this pain, this sweat and suffer ended at the foot of a cross on top of a mountain. I can think of no more appropriate metaphor to be concretely explored, to examine a rightly lived Christian life.
The next day was one of relaxation. That climb is the big task, in about 4 hours we trekked 8 or so miles total, most of that up and on the sunny side of a mountain. But the climb is also the big task to accomplish whenever a team of students go to visit Schwarzwaldeckhaus. So, I was perfectly fine sitting around the next day. If for no other reason than to recuperate my body from such intense use.
Sunday morning rolled around and the cowbell rang clear at 5:45am. We were off to a hillside to watch the sunrise and have a church service as the light came over the mountains. The view that morning was of orange and purple with clouds over the high mountains and fog filling the low valleys. I didn't take any pictures because it seems that that can often dim a memory, but I'll steal someone else's from the group and show it here:

We had a speedy trip down the mountain with a few close calls, but after some interesting chorus tours, I have learned to trust bus drivers in whatever situation. I got pretty car sick because I didn't take drama mean until right before we left so that was not a lot of fun. I couldn't shower immediately when I got back because everyone else was so the water pressure was dead. I took a tram to the Kebab stand and borrowed one from someone. When I returned I took a shower and wanted to take a nap, because my sheets weren't on my bed. I lay down at 5:30pm and woke up about 5:30 am at that point I considered starting my day, but just slept until 7:30 instead. yeah I slept for 14 hours on Sunday night. quite an adventure to end it all.

Tag in the life of...

2007-09-18T16:09:00.000-04:00

A typical day in Vienna on the OC/CC/RC studying abroad program.
1. Wake up.

A first in any nation

2. Decide whether to shower

Familiar for college students

3. Shower or descend the castle steps for breakfast.

Here is where a schism between normal life and the Viennese exists. I live in room 306 in Schloss Neuwaldegg and in Europe, the ground floor is floor 0. So, before I can really go anywhere, I first collect anything I might need before breakfast, or after breakfast, or after lunch. I really just leave my room for the day at about 8 because its such a hassle. There are 4 original ways up and down the stairs to my room, none of the shorter than the other, but the spiral staircase wears me out and makes me dizzy. Also I will walk the length of the castle on the ground floor because it has tile and feels more like I am crossing the floor of a castle.

4. Class from 9 til noon.

Pretty plain here, we sit and interact and learn for three hours and then are set free from learning in a classroom setting. It is fitting and not unlike the lower grades of school here in Vienna because they all get out of school at noon.

5. Lunch is often provided by our cooks.

I eat this. We are divided into groups called pods to evenly distribute the kitchen cleaning responsibility so sometimes I clean up here and other times I clean up in the morning. My group is called the Von Trapp family and they all sing songs, though not constantly, from the Sound of Music, i, perhaps was not as nurtured on Julie Andrews World War II masterpiece growing up so I'll just listen. I usually clean surfaces and sweep floors, something I practiced for a lot this summer while I was a janitor.

6. We are then set free.

We can take the rest of the day to sit at the castle and do homework, which I have done very little. Or we can take a tram to town and explore. Some days we have required sites to go see when we choose, but this way we can all have it fresh in our minds when we get together to discuss it later. We deal with the young ones piling on to the trains at this time, but its not so bad. It is a surprise to see so many kids using the public transport system with no supervision and sometimes completely alone. I guess when it's such a plain and simple thing, a reliable and safe form of transport, it can be Kid Tested and Mother Approved.
Today in particular I used the (cloudy) day for shopping. I have seen too much of H&M, which I would describe as an Abercrombie & Fitch of Europe. It has nice style but it is just so popular. There are three on one street here and its a walking street, so they aren't far apart. I almost considered it for T-shirts but I prefer Threadless' designs so much. Also, this season, I'm not impressed with their Men's coat styles. I know it will cost me more, but I think my choice will last longer if I go somewhere else. I went to Bernhart. I found a 2 coats of a good make and equal price and completely different styles but both I liked. so after an almost coin flip, I chose the one that made more sense for the price. A bomber jacket ordeal that is super warm.
Other days, like yesterday, I went to the Imperial Apartments and the Sisi Museum. Unfortunately, for the outside of the Glorious Hofburg Complex, they were cleaning up from the ErntDankFest that happened in the main courtyard. Sisi was the beloved wife of Franz Joseph, his cousin, Elisabeth. Our Sisi tickets gave us a free audio tour so we didn't have to do all that pesky reading. The nation loved her, probably because they did not get to see too much of her and she was assassinated, but maybe young royalty is always very popular, and then left eternally so after an untimely death. Such grandeur, once again, in this, the summer palace of the Hapsburg.
ErntDankFest was this past weekend and it was a hoot. It is a bit like Thanksgiving but usually only celebrated in the country and I guess this was the first time they did anything with it in the city. My first interaction with it was not a positive one, and most of my interactions with state fairs don't ring to be so positive anyway. But, I was basically forced out of my seat from drawing a picture of a statue so that a van could be parked closer to a building (i.e. right in front of a park bench). the first thing I found when I went to ErntDankFest in search of a pretzel was the Bauern Golf stand. this means Farmer's golf. It could be compared to horseshoes but maybe not. I saw a wheel barrow and people were throwing big rubber boots (people shoes?) into it, from not that far a distance. Every country has something silly like this I'm sure. I then walked around the bull riding stand and every tent offering fresh meat and cheeses and I found a pretzel and headed back to the castle as the men in leder hosen took the stage to dance to techno music. quite a day at ErntDankFest.

7. Dinner Time

We are on our own for dinner in the evenings. I usually fill this void by grabbing a Kebab at the stand at Alser Strasse station. they are only 2,80, and they are delicious. The stand that I get mine from are spicy and made of 100% Huhn (chicken). Other stands may mix meats or be cheaper, but they won't be as great. The other night at around 10 or so, those of us with little to do and little to have eaten went to the station to have a late night Kebab, just like a Taco Bell run at home.

8. Return to castle for homework of not-homework

This is like at school or home, except in a castle... in Vienna.

The beauty and the grandeur of Vienna, Austria.

2007-09-09T17:10:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure it can be put into words which is a pity, this being a text based blog, that and I haven't taken any pictures. We went for an amazing race style trip where our goal was to see a lot but not spend much time at each place, which is also a pity. But it served to help us know where to go in the city to see the best sites. Our first stop was the statue of Maria Teresa. It is gigantic and beautiful but it is also accompanied by a large yard to make itself seem as the largest thing for miles. It makes a person feel so small which, I'm sure, was a goal of a lot of royalty. Also, they would never have the chance to be pictured next to or compared to their own likeness because there were no cameras. And I guess the statues weren't for the people they looked like, they were for the people to remember them. All in all, an efficient and rewarding adventure across the city. Our team took a nicely paced stroll and knew where we were going each time and came in first to later receive the prize of a Milka bar. Milka is delicious. You can usually find them in America in the international section of a supermarket, I would encourage anyone to try them.

There are a lot of Dogs around the city. They are a common occurrence on trains and at supermarkets and in restaurants. Yesterday, I went to Cafe de l' Europe and had a Spaghetti Eis, which may sound gross, but is Ice cream extruded like spaghetti and served under strawberry sauce and over schlagobers, which is whipping cream, as well as a cappuccino. Anyway, the service took a long time, which I prepared for and so should everyone when dining out, but it was quite relaxing. I quipped, (who says quipped?) that it's no wonder people smoke in restaurants in Europe, because it just gives you something to do while waiting. But there was a dog that came in with a couple, on a leash, the dog not the couple, and it sat quietly and did not hardly move the whole time. Children came by and were rather uninterested in it, which I can't imagine an American 4-year-old leaving a dog in a restaurant alone. I wonder if they have some kind of strict standardized training for dogs around the cities.

People aren't openly friendly here, they don't often acknowledge a person they are passing on the street or path. Our teacher said that its just like that in the city, not the country, so it's really not so different from America, maybe.

I love to hear the German language. Out of the mouths of children it is adorable, and of old women it is classic, I like to be around people learning it, because I know enough to be able to help them out. This, lingually has been a very positive experience thus far. Though when I asked for the toilet in that cafe, (,,Wo ist die toilette?”) he replied ,,Grund.” while waving his hand in a direction, I wasn't sure what he meant, but after getting up I knew, I knew he meant it was down the stairs. I feel a lot of fear about speaking to strange people in their language, but then again, I feel a lot of fear speaking to strange people in our language. I think I might be in more danger of making a mistake and being unintelligible than the ones just learning because I think I know better but may be wholly off base. But, one must make mistakes to know that one must learn.

MORAL: One must make mistakes to know that one must learn

All of my blogger instructions are in German. Hilf Mir!

2007-09-07T09:01:00.000-04:00

Recounting London #1
Effectually Broadcasting from:

London!

From Sunday until Thursday morning I was in London doing all sorts of London things, that in my journal took up 3-5 pages per day. I won't be recalling every detail, but in a way to make my journalling seem futile and overbearing this is what I've decided.

How to write about my trip to London in a summary that is succinct and interesting...
Haiku in a 5-7-5 +2 format. There is a bonus 2 syllable line somewhere in each poem.

Sunday, 2 September. The day of arrival, being lost and National Museum.

Airplane lands. Temp? Warm.
Tube, great.
Guard change? too late. Museum? Old.
Sleep for three hours

(I woke up and got ready for the day early, believing it to be six am. It was midnight)

Monday, 3 September. The day of British Library, Westminster abbey and a subway disaster.

British Books. Fish, chips
Westminster Church, GOTHIC!
Tube strike.
Walking to Les Mis

Tuesday, 4 September. Victoria and Albert, National Gallery and more.

Walking V and A
HUGE national Gallery
Busses
Tate, Cell gone, Globe, Sleep.

(Yes, I lost my cell phone.)

Wednesday, 5 September. Tower of London, Saint Paul's and Show.

Strike done, Tower Bridge.
Cell Phound!
St. Paul's Eucharist, tired legs
Box seats, burger King.

(And then I found my cell phone at the lost and found of the Tate Modern!)

2007-08-31T15:51:00.000-04:00

A quick one broadcast from:
OKC!!

This is the last day in America. I will be calling alot of you, if any of you read this. Pretty soon this blog will only recall the things that i do in a day, perhaps in a checklist fashion. We, as students, are writing in paper notebooks to be turned in for a grade, so the detail here would be double the time and effort (sorry). There will be anecdotes and anecdonts I'm sure but perhaps given sparsley, like parsely. The occasional picture, especially of each of my bedrooms will be posted.

Tomorrow we take off for Dallas, then London, London, London. It's almost happening here. Unfortunately, Big Ben is covered and broken or something, so the pictures won't look like everyone else's, and maybe that is a good thing. We'll get along just fine.

Keep it real.

demark + embark

2007-08-30T00:33:00.000-04:00

Wednesday August 29th 2007
Recounting: first few days of Orientation

Last night we had foreign food number 3:

Foreign foods number 1 & 2 were both taken up by Chick-Fil-A.

We have been hearing lecture after lecture about things that I am sure are important, and I will be glad that I have heard them when I am in London or trying to cope with Vienna. But, right now, all I want to do is hop a plane and fly until I land and embark. That is incredibly rude, I know. These people put a lot of work into these lectures and know, know that these things are what they wish they had heard before they traveled abroad. Anyway, we received our T-shirts, and I can barely stomach a compliment. We took our cross cultural adaptability inventory, and I am 88, 44, something, something. That means, according to the test, assuming I did not lie, that I am emotionally resilient, a lot. My graph of the four aspects looked like an egg my E.R. was so high. We have to take it before and after to see how much we change while we are there.
We also received our Eurail timetables and our schedules for the trip. I will soon begin planning my first 10 day, which might actually be a 14 day, so I can take it slow. My Google Calendar is linked on the "Other Mes" section to the left. It will grow more and more detailed. I'll put up my trips as I finish them up, and change them as they need changed, like babies.
Foreign food number 4 was Fazoli's today. Once everyone had eaten, a couple of girls took a pan of bread sticks around to all the tables, just like at the restaurant. Funny.
We played some crazy Spoons, with plastic forks, and returned ourselves to Sonic. We did criticize the Oklahomans or just the OC students for driving everywhere, especially to Sonic which is across the road, but, how many times, in all my years at school, have I walked to K-mart or to Rochester Church? Fewer times than I drove.

Daytime tomorrow is some Bible Lectures which, if all goes to my plan will result in the finishing of the bible course work so there is no work to be done once we depart. Likelihood of said happening: little. Some more presentations from students, as well ,will be taking place.
Tomorrow is dinner at the Rice's and coffee with Kara, Todd and a whole host of Australian folk who are in the area. Free laundry, and dinner, some coffee with accents, sounds like a nice night.
And that's whats going on

Flug, schnell, FLUG!

2007-08-27T16:40:00.001-04:00

Blog Entry August 27th Monday
Location: Somewhere above Illinois, now
Recounting: Michigan in the Fall
When do I leave? BAM. Gone.

The Weekend. I made it to the school an hour before I had to be there for assembly, had time to shower, but didn't shave because I thought it better to look more haggard, but less smelly after a trip like that. We had our casual luncheon which was all of Mr. Pita in the Student Center. We were then supposed to have an orientation meeting in the library at 1:30, which, after having set my alarm for 1:30am I slept through, hopefully not a preview of how things will be in Oklahoma. After hanging out in the Student Development office for a while, Dawn took me to the bank, thank you, Dawn. Then the storms that my parents drove through the night before hit up Detroit for a long time. I hung about waiting for the welcome back party to finish, though the planned portions were pretty much over when the rain slammed the campus. Then some Ram's Horn and walking with Jaron to finish off the night.

I slept late on Saturday, so I didn't get all the work done I wish I had. Paul showed up and we waited for Ben and Sean and Amy to see a movie. (here's something: this would all be more interesting if it were in Europe.) I hadn't eaten all day when we showed up at Taco Loco. I knew that this would have happened when I had the nachos at Ram's Horn the night previous, and thus figured that I wouldn't mind eating more of the same the following night, but I got weirdly ill. I knew I needed to eat, but felt like I would throw up. On the plus side: very clean bathrooms at Taco Loco, much more so than Chili's. So I spent all that friend time sitting outside on a bench in front of a hair salon, trying to make myself throw up in a flower bed. So untimely.

Sunday. Church, Ruby Tuesday, an hour of Homework, Mark's House, Library time, Pack, sleep, pack.

Monday: I don't know why but it seems impossible for a School Van to stay on 75 until it runs into 94, and one can exit quickly to the airport. Our traffic was awful, as someone had tried to take a short cut across 39 (?). But we made it in good time, especially since our seats are numbered, unlike some airlines.

So now I am coasting over the oceans of the plains states, on my way to the European Speed bump that is Oklahoma!

Location: Somewhere above Nebraska, now.

2007-08-25T13:10:00.000-04:00

Blog Entry: August 23rd Thursday and on
Location: York, NE, Omaha, NE, Chicago IL
Recounting: The flight, the fight, the wait
The amount of rotations of the earth on its axis before I leave: IV

It's 3:00 am. I don't know what 'it' is that is so 3:00, but it is. I have slept a little I guess, curled in an airport chair with a strap of my back pack wrapped around my leg my eyes blinking often and longer as I held fantasia on my iPod in a death grip, my ears in pain from my anything-but-ergonomic headphones, but my feet: comfy with their new Active-Gel inserts, Thank you Active-Gel!! I had always intended to kill time in an airport, or some other mass transit hub, by watching Fantasia on my iPod, but I thought I would be in France when I did it, but well: Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear.

When I arrived at the Eppley Airfield in Omaha, I checked into find that my (seriously, as I saw it) under-packed bag, out of which I will live for the next three months was overweight by four pounds. And being the fatalist mooch, I quickly begged for help and it was taken care of. Then at the Security checkpoint, I accidentally left my cell phone in my pocket, which caused the buzzer to go off, but the officer suggested, my belt was also a culprit, I know this to be false, but being the fatalist people pleaser, I complied and removed my belt. Once seated to wait on my plane, I took the time to replace my laptop in its special position within my backpack, then heard a call for a passenger who left their cell phone and belt at the security checkpoint, and promptly ignored it. Once I heard it again, I thought, they must have a lot of situations like mine, "Oh, right, mine" and I went to reclaim it.

The weather is bad in Chicago and has been all day, so by 4:00, my 3:30 flight had not yet left, but because the air traffic control towers had been evacuated in Chi-town, due to Tornadoes, they could not tell us when they could tell us we could leave. Our plane was right there. But, even at 4:00, an half hour after we were to leave our flight was listed as "boarding" on the screens. Bureaucracy. Because we had not been told we were delayed, we were still on time. There's something here but I can't get to it.

We pulled into Chicago at 6:30, my connecting flight was at 6:10... but good for me!:my connecting flight had been delayed an hour because of the biggest lightning storm I have ever seen. So 7:30 and our planes not there, 8:30: no plane, but an explanation. Our plane was diverted to Tulsa. That's somethin'! So as they wait out the storm we find that we won't be leaving until 9:55 as our plane will get there 10 minutes prior. 9:45 rolled around and no plane, and no updates, so we start asking questions. Our Plane won't be here till 11, Our plane wont be here till 12. No. No plane, flight's canceled, tool. So I began wandering the airport, I guess to blow off some steam before I had to deal with people, then found this inevitable and found out where to go and waited in line and on the phone, as phone was recommended by the girl at the foot of the line (I think that's an accurate way to describe line position: head and foot.) Becky at 1-800-I-Fly-*** quickly got my things together and I was on a new flight, out of Chicago-go at 6:10 am to return to Detroit at 8:10ish. Allegedly, my bag will meet me there, as I did not have to recheck it, we'll see. As long as it gets to me by Monday, it will be okay

So what to do with all my time, from, now, 12:00 till 6:10am... I walked down and up concourse B because I knew the end could provide a nice huddling or leaning place, but it was so jam-packed with people, I turned right around and went toward A. In A I was surprised to find what the airport provides for people. Like a refugee camp, or survivors of some great tragedy, cots lined the walls two and three deep as strangers lay with strangers under cover of jackets and heads rested on flattened, free pillows. I was not interested and found an empty terminal, far away from all that cot action, moved some chairs around so that when I lay, I was covered by them, albeit, not in the most comfortable position, but I was fine. On the arrival of another flight that, I guess as it is called, left people stranded, cots were moved into my area, and I guess I'm not against sleeping like that, but I didn't want to be around people 'settling in.' Also when the children nearest my head first lay on theirs they began to complain, and loudly, "NO!" "This is HORRIBLE!" So I was off again and met up where I began. People started to arrive, as to leave, in the terminal where I was actually beginning to sleep, so I had to be off and up out. Good thing I didn't sleep as my contacts nearly dried off my face.

SuperLativo!!

2007-08-23T01:22:00.000-04:00

Blog Entry August 22nd Wednesday
Location: York, NE
Recounting: packed and ready to go
5 days remain before I: leave

-Last day in York, hopefully, ideally, allegedly last day without responsibility. I should have a job or be in close pursuit of one the next time I return here. My life should be on its way toward that great goal of contribution of the capitalism we are born into. Unless someone out there needs a trophy husband to keep around... someone who--- forget it.

-Packed up a lot of stuff into two suitcases, not as much as I had packed before I got to York, obviously.

-It is storming up a storm right now, there was a-whole bunch of lightning and thunder but it has since quieted down. I want my flight to be on time tomorrow, as it should be, ideally, allegedly my last weekend in Rochester.

-I hung flags up on the ceiling in the room I stay in. two from Scotland, one from Australia. This room used to be called the Zachary Lynn Memorial Suite, I think. And then the princess suite, or maybe in reverse order. But how about the Niche of Nations? I'll get more flags, that's a guarantee.

-I haven't watched Drake or Josh in a few days.

-My brother went off to college, and today I took in the opening convocation at York College, a lot of Pomp and Circumstance: flags, and caps and faculty introductions and Alma Mater singing. But I saw my little brother and in like four days he's nearly got a full goatee. What like you go to college and your face just does what every other college freshman does? Is this the realization of body trends within generations?

-I don't think Niche of Nations would actually catch on because no one really knows how to pronounce the word 'Niche'

-Played a rockin' good game of baseball and tennis and bowling on the Wii tonight.

- My dream about Vienna last night: well, I really just woke up, as though I had fallen asleep here and woke up there-- in a castle, I woke up there and looked out the window at all the Europeans bathing, and was for a short time reminded of waking up and going to my figure Illustration class, then I looked around the room and all the Oklahoma people were sitting around talking like it was all no big deal. What scares me, or saddens me, is that there will be a time when waking up in a castle in Vienna is no big deal. Everyone takes everything for granted, its inevitable.

Land of colorful skies and a white populace

2007-08-22T01:30:00.000-04:00

Blog Entry August 21th Tuesday
Location: York, NE
Recounting: success number zwei
6 days until: you know what

Today I finished my paper on Albrecht Durer, artist and mathematician. I'm pretty sure that I did my best to recreate some of his stuff in either my freshman year or when I had that figure drawing class, though I really prefer Rubens. How I wish. How I wish I would have finished all of this stuff so much earlier in my trip; it was all a matter of sitting down and doing it, now I have one day only to pack and to clean up my room before I go. cry cry cry. Tonight is the first night in a while that I am sleeping at a normal hour. Rudy Maxa took me on a trip to Vienna his way yesterday thank you to the magic of HD PBS, seems like a nice place, maybe I'll live there for a month. I am at such a standstill about what I should bring for luggage. I've had this plan to take the suitcase I took to Australia, that was for a month, and I can fit in this thing, man. It's Humongous. I should ask the others before I leave on Thursday.

I took a picture of a rainstorm yesterday and it turned out very surprising. I had been out trying to get a good view of the contours of the clouds from the back yard with the Rebel XT and I was going to continue and get the colors of the clouds over the green green grass from the front yard, but for some reason I stopped and grabbed my little Nikon 7900, good thing I did. Right as I pressed the button lightning struck right where I was aiming and I said to myself, “I hope I got that.” but when I looked at the screen I couldn't see it so I kept taking pictures. But I just knew, it was right when I pressed the button it had to be on there somewhat, just a residual or something, so I looked closer and yes, it was there, up and down the whole gray blue sky. my first lightning shot, forkin' off left and right like in a magazine, could be my last but who knows.

Tonight, as storms raged in the north of us, the sunset was gold and pink, so I grabbed a camera and ran down the street to get a publicity shot of the glowinest sunset you ever saw behind the clock tower at York College. It got a bunch dimmer and lower and as I neared the building it obstructed a lot of the color. But it still looked good. I'm thinking of putting up the picture with a caption says, “You can thank ethanol for that!”

I think I've been typing with an accent since I got here.

Toaster Boaster

2007-08-20T00:30:00.001-04:00

Blog Entry August 19th Sunday
Location: York, NE
Recounting: success and others
8 days until: this soul's reunion with history

Today I went to church, then Taco Johns, then home where I did the most productive thing in several days (for me, it would be sad if this were the most productive thing overall for all things.). I took the final for my Vienna's History Class. Not a History of Vienna class, but well. It's a class that covered all of the recorded history of the western civilization and I took a 40 question test that covered it all. How would you, as a Roman statesman, like all of your, no doubt, complex and conflicted decisions about how to treat the Jews super-condensed, over-simplified, and generally generalized into a single question? Well, it was.

Yesterday, I watched an old favorite and learned some things about it. The Brave Little Toaster. I think it was another nod to my cyclical – maybe not cyclical but streamlined/unified/recurring – interests. I've repeatedly liked: Vincent Price (both his drawing show when younger then his horror movie repertoire when I grew older) Alan J. Higgins – sit-com writer (both Newsradio then Malcolm in the Middle) Conan O'Brien – Simpson's consultant/writer of the Monorail Episode then talk show host. And now the reasons to return to Brave Little Toaster.

1. I found out that, maybe the best part, the songs, are by Van Dyke Parks, the man who has so greatly affected music today in production and other aspects. And knowing his love of the strings and his contribution to Joanna Newsom's Ys last year it was very evident the impact he had to have had on the score of the movie. He is still well used in my music scene, and I have really liked the songs since an early age as well as Brian Wilson's SMiLE when it came out a few years ago.

2. Vocal Talent: Jon Lovitz (as a Radio) and Phil Hartman (as an Air Conditioner and a Peter Lorre lamp (in a song that mentions Vincent Price, no less.)). Lampy, who has hilarious just a hilarious voice, and this one is a surprise to me as of seconds ago: is the guy from Son of the Beach. The Vacuum, Kirby, is one of the most classic and well used Disney stock voice actors, he was Tony the Tiger and the “You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.” singer. My favorite the Blanket, though doomed to obscurity, Timothy Day nails this character in every weak and clingy line he gives. I have yet to see the sequels that don't have him, but I doubt if they can hold a candle to this performance.

3. The characters: Lampy calls Toaster “Slots.” Radio calls Kirby “Carpet Breath.” Blanket is constantly rejected and mistreated by the others, but makes himself into a tent in the forest, first thing. Kirby hides behind a corner and dances when no one can see him. The Toaster tries to explain the feeling of being kind to Lampy, while searching for the words in a vocabulary that a lamp and a toaster have in common. Radio makes a couple of fake news announcements to congratulate the others. Toaster has the scariest nightmare clown drown him in a bath. All of them have their flaws but also genuinely need each other and care for each other to assist the greater good of reaching the master.

4. That line in the first song that Radio gives, “Master is a man, who lays his hand across the land!” If The Ant Bully is about Communism, I think this one could lean towards Fascism. Several minions who live only to serve their Master, who is flawless in every way, travel across the country to find his favor. What was the last pro-fascist children's entertainment to be released in the states? I might be discussing it right here.

That's all I got for now.

commis-roommate

2007-08-19T00:59:00.000-04:00

Blog Entry August 18th Saturday
Location: York, NE
Recounting: remember how much I play video games?
9 is: the magic number.

Today, I continued my yesterday-begun quest to save the princess. And fortunately for my school and for my future, I got stumped enough to stop trying, it was a good distraction while it lasted, and now it's on to bigger and better things, bigger at least.

So I finished the day doing that yesterday, started the day doing that today, then went on some missions with my parents. I helped my brother go for the shopping for college. Then helped him move in, (he's got a private room) I know I didn't appreciate my roommate situation when I first got to college, but I think I am glad that a single room wasnt even an option. It seems like leaving the house to go to, for me at a totally foreign school, complete isolation would have been too much. But having a curfew in a town where, just a block and a half away you don't have curfew, that'd be hard to bear. So, if nothing else, a first semester roommate is good for: sounding board to complain about curfew and equivalently miserable about being away from home, is the word commiserate? I think so.

2007-08-18T01:53:00.000-04:00

Blog Entry August 17th Friday
Location: York, NE
Recounting: second day of general ignorance of responsibility
Austria:10 days away.

Interesting Question: How much nothing can a person get away with? That is odd because when a person thinks of nothing, one thinks of an absence of anything and there fore nothing can infinitely occupy anything, no, everything. Therefore I should be able to escape from everything into a world of nothing but. That is ridiculous. Nothing, when stretch over any amount of time, occupies everything. Ergo, within everything, activity-wise, is nothing rearing its head trying to look as though it's got it going on. Where did nothing go wrong that this is a completely false assumption and belief?
Laziness, laziness, laziness, the diversion from the things we must accomplish. The pause that, as a VCR, does not move to Stop after Five minutes.

In third, maybe second grade, Mrs. Moses, the school librarian, was giving us some lecture, involving a video taped program, she paused to help us, and then got mad that the VCR went to static as we had all taken too long to learn, and ask questions of her. Whose fault was this? All our schooling previous? The woman who did not qualify for teaching any specific grade in our school system or but that needed some job in the district where her husband principaled? Or the weak library system of Dewey decimal and read, read, read anything imposed at such a young age in public schooling? Answers lie not in the present or the past but instead on some plane that we can never reach. We may never know the answers to the questions we have of the past and maybe that is for the best because this way, the way we are subjected to with any other option, we ha e something to suppose about, to say : "Well, it could have been like this: All our schooling previous? The woman who dot dot dot?."

Such is life. Such is the problem of philosophy and theology: we will NEVER have the answers we search for we can only pray to be right in any sense of supposition we make. Life is without resolution or a fully cyclical narrative like so many Hollywood films. So I have resigned myself to stop questioning much of anything, which unfortunately leads a person to a pluralistic laissez-fare sense of being and existence? And then: what is the point of all of this? What is the good in anything?

Evidence #10: A CORNDOG in Josh's pants was the result of bullying

Whut were you thinkin'

2007-08-17T00:54:00.000-04:00

Blog Entry August 16th Thursday
Location: York, NE
Recounting: first day of general ignorance of responsibility
Until departure: 11 Days remaining

I am sitting shirtless behind a desk that I do not own. I have done all but nothing today and have yet to regret it. Though deadlines approach, I know that closer is my bed time and that is non-negotiable. Tomorrow I will get things done, oh yes, I will complete the world in a single day because I believe myself to be better than those that have set me free from my own rib cage. I can act as though I am productive or I can tell the truth about it, and the truth is that tomorrow I will be. I would prefer to watch, on TV, on a chair that has potential access to the whole world, all the things that I could do in France rather than take the necessary steps for me to get there. I woke up before my alarm once again and read the most negative reviews of the best movies, as well as the most positive reviews of the worst movies, perhaps i, someday, shall shine as either one, one that gets noticed, though to be truly bad is to be forgettably bad, and that's no way to fail: mediocrity. So finish your drinks, ladies and gentlemen, he's got a piano bar next to his bed and contradictions against what watchmakers have told us to believe. They set things in motion and forget about us but that's the last thing anyone wants is to be forgotten which is why a reeled-up-snot-fisted blow to the face is so much better than walking away. Man, oh man, do you got it bad when all you think about is that someone forgot something you thought you contributed to life but, no. I think that if you walk away with all your dignity in tact then you have yet to make a mark in fact, you've just made a great mistake. You gotta beg for recognition if you did somethin' right, good, that the deserter just doesn't care about. Light up a bud and burn yourself from the inside out, then you'll see what's worth leavin' behind round these parts.

I am generally concerned that I am the only interesting person in the world; but then again, I wouldn't want to get to know me if I met my self on the street. But that's because of the fact I stated above. Left or right side doesn't matter because compassion is all that can. But whut do you do when all your care is spent on someone else, you may never know.

-Yikes, pal, that is some rough stuff to swallow

-mostly cause its all lies?

-Lies?

-No not like that, but like the lies you gotta tell to get out of somethin' even if it was the truth. Listen, she doesn't want you and for all she knows you never wanted her so what's the loss? You'd do well to be forgotten by her, but what about the one they praise?

-I've always held that those who deserve praise and recognition are the ones who seldom receive it.

-For that you may be right but it's about time you put yourself in your own shoes for once and felt something. The only end you can achieve is your own, write that one down. Fight it all you may but its your name gonna be on that head stone come lunch time, when they ring the bell. To make that mark you gotta forget about everyone else, down that rum, start that car and know that your name will be in the paper for a week if you die and for years if you kill.

-you're just an awful person

-You wouldn't call Jesus and awful person.

-Jesus wouldn't be so wrong.

-I'm just tellin' the truth, boy, and its the truth by how our ancesters and theirs made it the truth in our world. There ain't no escapin' it, but I'm sick as I'll ever be: hangin' on to edge of a toilet seat in the dark so that even I don't have to let myself down by my sorry sight. That's low. Memorably low. Something to come back from, something to know that it is not how it oughtta be. Where you're not coastin' from speed bump to speed bump but your DRIVING, man. You're on top one minute and bawlin' your eyes out the next. Swervin' in and out as 66 carves itself along your twisted backbone because you wouldn't listen when your teacher tole you to sit up straight. Boy, did you hate her, hate like you haven't known since then, but it was like she didn't deserve it but you can never ever ever! Forget her, man. Someone who knows whut's best for you when you don't agree: THAT'S UNFORGETTABLE. And she's still doin' it too, man, tellin' little 7 year olds that they ain't doin' this right or that right. And they'll grow up and hate her too, but she just knew the difference between bein' experienced and bein' smart. It don't matter how smart you KNOW you are in grade 2, you could divide the empire state building by three, I don't care, but one thing your teacher got on you is experience like you wouldn't believe. Like you wouldn't believe! So, break your bones in two, and leave out the back, cause this bar-fight is ov-ah! That's how they'd say it: oh-VAH!

Evidence #8: BUTTERMILK allegedly spilled on geek's laptop: propelled whole episode
Evidence #9: Cell phone allegedly dropped in SOUP, Drake and Josh stranded by the side of the road.

consider yourselves ruffled

2007-08-16T01:02:00.000-04:00

Blog Entry August 15th Wednesday
Location: York, NE
Recounting: first day of productivity
12 Days until departure: left

As stated above: today was a productive kind of day. I Woke up before my alarm went off so I was able to relax a bit before doing much of anything. I had breakfast which is not something I was able to do much of this summer. I had some monkee bread and for the sake of having all parts of this complete breakfast I had a bowl of honey bunches of oats. Then, as I had planned when I woke up, I took that bonus after-breakfast time to clear a space for me to work on my homework which I have too much of for being a college graduate. I wrote some things about Sartre and I checked some things out about Durer. Curious thing about the public library here: when I need/want to check something out, it is closed. So I made my way to the college library which is closer and so much more foreign to me, as last time I lived here I was but a young sprout with no need for much more than a children's/young adult/judo instructional section. SO i, in my scheduled time, had only time to check out and read a bit about ole Albrecht before it was time for the next scheduled event: lunch. Then back to the room for some resume writing/revisions. I'm movin' up in the world. After that was done I visited an old friend named Music Making. I broke out garage band and iDrum and put together a little ditty as well as started on a just-terrible cover that I have wanted to record/remix for a while, it should be shameful when done, or brilliant. I then took my brother to track practice again and ate ribs. I'm stocking up on barbecue as I don't think it will be around in Europe or easy to find or cheap.

Church time rolled around and I found Rick Eldred: Song Leader pronouncing the name of the children's program the lord's army as the Lord's ar-ME! Like in the song, over and over he pronounced it that way and I giggled and giggled. I have my reservations (more pacifist longings ahead) about we Christians using such militaristic imagery in times of war. It's wrong to say that Christians are not constantly in a struggle greater than world-war like proportions, but it seems like when we submit to the familiar imagery of a modern, American army it gives the wrong impression to the children. It was fitting that the class that I attended tonight was focusing on the 6th commandment, “thou shall not kill”. We discussed at length the difference between killing and murder. And the oldest man that, I think, has ever lived talked about when he was twenty, because of his translation of the bible (King James Version) he would sooner go to jail than put on a uniform because the KJ says “kill” instead of the newer translation “murder”. He said that once those translations came out that he changed his entire philosophy. I can't imagine doing such a thing. Being married to a text for so long and agreeing with it wholeheartedly, and knowing that it is right, but when a slight change is made to switch over on ideals. To go from an extreme to, not another extreme 'cause I think that would be kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out, a more moderate view because a book , basically, changed its mind. The teacher of the class mentioned that early on, until WWI that our fellowship was a pacifist one, we did not fight in the Civil war because we knew that we would be fighting our Christian brothers, but when that first World War hit we were ready to take up arms. Did nationalism sink into our brotherhood? Or did we just want blood for blood? Is it wrong to say that we lost our way and standards somewhere? Because with our constant backing of a party and the government in general, I believe that is not wholly off base to say. When was the last time that the Church of Christ stood to ruffle feathers in the establishment? Give me an example! As I left I peered into a window and saw the children with camouflage headbands on as if ready to hide out and do battle. As I was leaving I thought: I think tomorrow I'll go into cherry hill where my brothers and I used to play army men in the tall grass and thick trees.

I doubt if any one one of you can reach your own ideals.

Evidence #5: POPCORN got Drake fired.
Evidence #6: CHOWDER was in a list of Grievances against Drake and his pool hustling.
Evidence #7: A cue ball landed in a plate of NACHOS that almost got Drake and Josh beaten up.

Eat until we starve

2007-08-15T01:15:00.000-04:00

Blog Entry August 14th Tuesday
Location: York, NE
Recounting: First full day home
Only: 13 Days until departure

Today was the first day that I slipped into the haze of sleepy town. I woke up around 10:30 which does not fall in line with the schedule for completion of several assignments that I have made. But how quickly do I fall into the laze that I can let it slide... y'know, it's my first day back, and my brother starts school tomorrow, I shouldn't work so hard today, I'll get it tomorrow. So I bummed around the house took some pictures and sewed a patch on a bag. A patch of myself. Which sounds as a scary garden scene. Since I broke the armpit of one of my many Focus 2005 shirts, I cut myself out and put myself in stitches under a flap. I experienced my brothers' unbridled creativity: painted babies and marketable propaganda buttons and the like. I'd like to think that if I had the room, I could achieve that kind of creation. More bumming. Watched the Soup, eh? The soup! Well.

Felt generally useless I guess, though I did take my brother to his track practice. Last night my mom had noticed the title of one of my vinyls and asked how to pronounce Sufjan and then mentioned that he had been on PBS for a concert. I figured it was Austin City Limits and that I had missed it so I checked on the website and watched a quiktime of Casimir Pulaski Day, but felt the loss. UNTIL! I was searching the HD channels on the cable box and saw that tonight was an HD replay of the Sufjan Stevens/Calexico concerts. So I recorded it and watched it and soon realized that I still can offer the world something, not sure what; but it served as a small reminder that there is a bigger world out there that I can still be connected to.

I watched an episode of Drake and Josh not because I wanted to, because there is a lot of other things on the cable here, but out of habit, like a daily sugar rush or a hit of cocaine, I just had to have Drake and Josh on while I ate my lunch, like most days these past few weeks. So on was Drake and Josh and Josh went to the hospital and I realized there is a theme to the whole show: Food hurts people.

Evidence #1: Josh dropped a Barbell on his foot when a POTATO gun shot him.
Evidence #2: Drake almost operated on a woman who got her foot caught in a FOOD Processor
Evidence #3: The dad ate some SOUP that was actually underwear water.
Evidence #4: Their TV movie Really Big Shrimp was about how SHRIMP ruined the working relation ship of Drake and Josh.

There will be more, I assure you.

And it is bizarre to watch Josh Peck and to know John Wriston.

fahren

2007-08-14T02:42:00.000-04:00

Blog Entry August 13th Monday
Location: York, NE
Recounting: Drive from Rochester, MI
T-minus: 14 Days until departure

This morning I got up for presents and presence of Naomi as we are parting ways until we meet again. She delivered a mix CD and card, I began driving around 7ish. My Google map instructions told me that my trip would be about 13 hours and 2 minutes long, sooo approximate. For the first 6 hours, on this the most humid among several past humid Augusts, I had air conditioning. I listened to music as well as a sermon by Dr. David Fleer whilst singing along to both of them, and went along my merry way.

Long about 1:30 pm central time, as I had made 'the switch' at that point, the AC had had enough of me enjoying myself, not sweating, too cold in fact, but I knew, I knew it was too good to last much so I shivered and grit my chattering teeth, the subtle promise of heat to come on the distant horizon. So, it, like so many youthful local marching band members quit, and my car itself began to sweat as if to comfort me in my perspiration. I had my air conditioning checked before I left on this past Friday, but it was not a mere freon recharge or some other adjustment, no, it required a compressor clutch or some other shenanigans; they would have to order it for me and I would have to return to the shop on who knows what day and wait there for who knows how long and pay who knows how much. (by the way, Chuck at Al Dean Auto probably knows all of the above.) Anyway, the mechanic looking at my car, with the hood up said that whenever the compressor stopped, he would Tap it. He had to Tap it, it sticks so he would Tap it. Not having cool air won't impede my drive home or anything, Air conditioning being the ne'er-overrated un-necessity that it is. His suggestion was, because the percussive maintenance was so easily effective, to have someone suspended beneath the car to Tap the fan/belt/clutch/whatever whenever it stuck. Believe it or not, no one volunteered for that. So that was a no-go but my solution was to aim for every pot-hole that got in my way when the compressor was stuck. Here's the kicker: I-80 is in pristine condition as far as pot-holes go.

Before I got to Chicago I stopped at Wendy's to fill my stomach with something: what does Wendy's serve for Breakfast? Nothing. So I got a chicken sandwich and some fries for some reason and sat down to enjoy my lonely meal. The national news channel that was on was reporting Gas prices, which I was then at a half tank on my gauge. The national average this morning was at $2.77 per gallon. Low in some place in Ohio: $2.5? and the high in Chicago: $3.15. So I sat knowing full well where I was headed, knowing that I needed gasoline, but continue to pay no attention to this, drive on and buy gas from Chicago for an astounding $3.15 per gallon.

So my solution for the AC dropping out, as opposed to pulling over opening hood and tapping various parts of my engine, was simple. I switched the dial to vent, endured about 10 minutes of blazing fan vent water steam hot air, and switched it back to find cold air waiting for me. In these lucid moments of delusional heat, I even considered ... driving with my shirt off. But, because my car was filled with my life and I hadn't yet hit the Iowa Border, I didn't want to fill the stereotype that my gun rack bearing Subaru Impreza gives off, that's very confusing sarcasm. Also, in high school as I was walking down a street in Tennessee, I told Jake, walking next to me, as we looked on in the wavy air a low riding car with tattoo chested young men drove by and I said, “Jake, if ever I am driving without a shirt on, just go ahead and pull the trigger there, that'll be it for me, thank you.”

Driving, Driving...

Next Stop: buy gas. And use bathroom. This bathroom at ... somewhere near Des Moines. I walked into the store and headed for the opposite direction as the Easter European Collar Flippers and toward the Bathroom. I turned the handle and pushed open the door to find out that: a. it was a 'single-seater' and b. there was a guy using it. To expound and share the awkwardness of this: guys have a few choices when it comes to using the bathroom, one of them is obvious the other is rare. This 'other' option involves no unbuckling of any sort but a simple pant leg lift of the shorts. So that's the view, from behind, that was waiting in the bathroom. Not all. Then I backed away and stared at a nearby shelf of cigarettes, or chips or something else I didn't care about until the Men's room was free. When I heard the door open I turned in anticipation of the use of said room and the guy, seeing me and remembering me, said, “Hu-hey, just used to the fair, I just walk in, don't look at the door.” the best was just that he talked to me, that he really needed to explain himself to me. I wonder if he is afraid of getting old. Making excuses like that to total strangers for an honest mistake. I think most people would be embarrassed and let it be what it was but no, not a pants leg lifter upper he's not embarrassed about anything.

Same stop: buy iced coffee. As I approached the desk I saw that the clerk there looked like my little brother, a lot like my little brother. I was actually poised and ready to say something about it. Say, “you look just like my little brother,” having no picture on hand to prove it but just to say something in sleepy old Iowa. But as I neared Max, as that was his name, comment all ready in my vocal cords, He began to have a bit of a tourettes fit knocking his head habitually against his shoulder 5or 6 times. I quickly decided against saying anything, not troubling him with this information at all, especially since my little brother doesn't do that.

Currently safe at home, unpacked for the first time here, sleeping

Jenn, durr!

2007-08-03T22:57:00.000-04:00

I had gone to Starbucks with a friend to drink coffee(?) but I didn't want to spend money on coffee and the place was full of loud people, so we went to sit on a stairwell. Shortly after, said-friend offered up some Nerds brand candies that she had purchased on an impulse, which I, having skipped dinner at this 8:30 in the evening, began to eat as though they were food.
So after a 5 meal all-pizza-streak, I knew my body could not take much more so I sought to remedy the situation.
I went to Chili's, as I always do, and ordered something I never do, a salad. The name of the salad is the Quesadilla Explosion Salad. Not some fruit and nut ordeal or anything like that; this is an EXPLOSION!! Not unlike the kind Michael Bay or Jerry Bruckheimer would shove down our throats, which I was about to engage in. I couldn't ask for a
manlier salad.
Salad ordered, server Megan sent for them, all is well as the chips and salsa are bottomless. So for some reason, things got a little mixxed (oh yeah 2 x's) up in the kitchen and Megan wasn't able to bring out my salad. some blond girl comes out and sets my salad down where no one is sitting, I have moved my accumulated water glasses apart so as to make room for salad. she lifts up the plate so as to fulfill her duties as Megan's temporary replacement and says, "Who had the salad?" and I replied, less than eager, yet still hungry, but understanding of the stigma attached in such a situation, "I have the salad." (It's explosive.)
"Oh, uhh, here you go," and as she was leaving, I had almost gotten off scott free, look of oddity free, but as she was leaving, before she turned she said, "seems like something a lady would order."
My reply as she was going, "well, that's not something you should say to a patron." but she didn't hear me.
SO, I completely expect that in the society we live in that I will be judged for ordering something that is not primarily meat based, It is assumed that because my chromosome are dissimilar, that it would be out of the ordinary for me to not kill as many things as possible when i sit down to eat.
BUT
you can't say that to someone who is paying you and your company.

if she were Megan, I would have stiffed her on the tip.

summed

2007-07-25T15:24:00.000-04:00

Some days, I walk up and down 8 rows of a total of 246 chairs
making sure that they go from looking like this:

to looking like this:

And I say to myself at the loudest I can when I am alone,
"This is so important, so important, so IMPORTANT!"
Only I say it the way my bible school teacher said it every wednesday,
"impordent" because I hated it, and there was nothing I could do about it.

what i know so far

2007-07-18T22:59:00.000-04:00

I have figured out that...

If you order from a 3rd party seller on amazon, there is no guarantee about anything... anything.
If my contacts are stinging it's only a few days until I can barely see out of the respective eye.
If I call smarter child enough names he will school me

Me
"i hate your hair"

SmarterChild
"Oh yes? It's interesting, especially since other people I've talked to say they like my hair."

If I wake up wth my voice sounding several octaves lower than usual or
If I wake up and there is a sufficient amount of drool present, I slept pretty well.
If I am brushing my teeth and I accidentally brush my chin, then that is a speedy and powerful brushing.
If I concentrate real hard, I can take 10 minutes to cross a single auditorium floor
If I work the same job all summer and don't miss a single day, I really want to quit.

the ramparts red glare

2007-07-11T15:04:00.000-04:00

I had hinted at fireworks in a previous post and I have feelings about them. They make me uncomfortable. Here is the story. When I came back from australia in the summer of 2004, it was the start of July and I immediately went south to see my friends in Indianapolis. They said my hair looked like a 14 year olds it was funny ha ha. Anyway after we met up we headed down to the baseball field where masses of people had ... amassed. they were there for the Zionsville Fireworks in the park. We sat in the dug out so as t ohave a seat and covering to be exclusive; whatever. On went the show and as every boom got louder and plume got brigher, the crowd seemed awed and to me, it seemed odd. I thought of my brother who, at that time, i believe, was in Iraq or on a boat circling the area. I remember a message about his feelings for the people of the area and how little they have, but one thing in particular the constant warfare surrounging their lives. For them to be kept up all night because of firestorms and nearby cataclysm was just the norm, I guess it made me think about what we "oo" and Ahhh" about and if we should really admire the beauty that can equally cause so much pain and suffering. Is this what patriotism has become, is this what it always has been? A raucus simululation and nose up to the world that has to suffer through a reality of pain? Our independence came from war, but our existence can be celebrated in peace. Until firworks shows are all that gunpowder is used for, perhaps we shouldn't indulge so completely in the sparkle, sizzle and boom.

--BUT--

Still a dichotomy stands... my favorite thing about the Celebration of Independence day is to take my own fireworks and set them off in the driveway. Lighting them and throwing them far too late. smoke bombs are my favorite, there are plenty of neat tricks to be had with those, you just may not know it. And in the comfort of a front lawn, the most that can happen is the loss of a finger or two, sometimes a little temprary hearing loss and the occasional house fire but: don't ask don't tell

bytes

2007-07-08T01:16:00.000-04:00

... and more marketing
Went to Tastefest (the former tastefest, it is now Comerica City Fest, didn't know I lived so close to Comerica City) and saw Yo La Tengo. Good experience all around, the weather was perfect, the music not too loud, the drunken dancing was just right. I figured out that the indie band that Tastefest (still calling it that) puts on on friday nights is usually around the same type of band, Wilco, New Pornographers, YoLa... . But here's what grabbed my attention, flyers get passed around at every concert anywhere, people get them and throw them away often without reading them, except for this one, and it wasn't about what the flyer said it was about the way in which it was delivered: a guy, usual concert flyer looking guy walks down a whole row of people, all with their backs equally to him, reaches around Jaron's friend Steve and hands him a single quarter sheet of pink paper advertising a jazz-fusion-punk-rock-show (all combined into one genre). Now this begs the question why do I remember what it was for? because it was handed to one person in many, I just had to wonder: what's he got that i don't? why was he invited? I have to know what that flyer is aaaalll about! i have to look tell me steve show me! and it was honestly nothing special, but because of the speciality of the delivery I could not ignore it.
That is how the white noise of advertising can be broken through: personalization. sure, it, like all strategies, will die off and people will ignore it. and granted it's used in email all of all the time, (how else would they know that I want a bigger credit rating?) But for now, when it comes to the tangible advertising that we can so easily ignore and withstand with all our might, we need to find a way to make it outlandishly pointed at the single viewer, and for sure the message has to spread, bot because of and in spite of its exclusivity.

Bytes

In high school i bought the sega dreamcast when it came out on 9/9/99. (sparing nostalgic prose) the first and greatest game I bought was Soul Calibur, I played alot and beat it wholly to unlock the (fanfare: dun dun dun DAH!!) gold menu screen. anyway tonight i was loading up the game from the original memory card and instead of loading from the default nothing completed game... i saved. I erased it, i lost a file that i had wored on for years basically, all the records of fights that i had late into the night with my oldest brother, all the campaigns and unlocked Items and costumes and fan art and etc etc etc all gone with the instance of the start button. gone. no more gold menu screen. and that's how important video games are: all that 'work' all that time 'invested' into something is gone without even the chance to get anything out of it. there's nothing to do about it, you can swear and hit stuff, but if you break something, at this point, it will cost a lot of money to replace a dreamcast controller/system/memory card its just not worth it to be angry about the loss of something we seek after for our own diversion. I can still play the game, and with a little work and maybe some money i could download a similar save game to my memory card, (that's how great sega is) but i think i have bigger fish to fry at this point, maybe I'll be able to later on but for now: the soul still burns

Transformers: More on it... moron it

2007-07-07T02:03:00.001-04:00

this will not be a productive movie review.

1. Shia La bouf is the best part of this movie.
- a. the producers realized this and really shoved him in your face.
- b. the scene in his room where he is getting the glasses went on for waaay too long, cashing in on the awkwardness of, that common teenage problem, hiding 50 foot robots in your back yard.
2. Optimus Prime is some kind of well-meaning moral character.
- a. he will not hurt humans. something something about destiny
- b. he won't let Megatron hurt humans. something something about their choices in life.
- c. he is so smart.
- d. he actually has a really cool voice
3. Anthony Anderson is good.
- a. no, he's not.
- b. I agree with the above point: he is awful, and a "b." is required in an outline form
4. The 8 year old sitting next to me.
- a. He must have had ADHD. or just the H part of it.
- b. He was totally into the movie like I could never be, well not at this age.
- c. His mom kept shushing him for the whole time because he was too excited about every robot, all of whose names he knew, that appeared on screen.
5. The robots were very detailed
- a. They were made up of alot of little moving parts that looked real in motion, well done, Bay.
- b. all the fights were too close, so: these new machines, that we have never seen before, are difficult to decifer when a
- mass of shiny metal is filling a whole wall of a room.
- c. wide shots are grossly underused in action movies.
6. Theres that thing that action movies do.
- a. Here's something at the beginning. then bring up the same thing again in the third act.
- b. ...
- c. ...
- d. ok, well I cant think of any examples from Transformers right now but:
  - i. the wink in I, Robot.
  - ii. and that's all I can think of right now. crap.
7. are we... is it okay if... can we... i guess we're crashing airplanes into buildings again now...
8. there is a certain type of humor that is innate in all action movies. Big/little "jokes" is all i can say to describe it.
- a. Example: A huge gunfight in a building lobby where all but two die and the carnage is unbelievable! then an elevator dings. (Matrix)
- b. Example: A gigantic robot comes out of a swimming pool destroying all in its path, narrowly missing a little girl who should be deathly afraid, but is only concerned with the tooth fairy. isn't that so funny?
- c. Example: There is an enourmous asteroid storm, which causes fearsome looking robots with 'great' personalities (thank you Darius McCrary) to assemble and know that they have to save the Earth then a screen full of donuts.
- d. this happens alot in action movies these day, this 'comic relief,' but this movie was never serious enough to need any relief

so. about marketing.

2007-07-07T01:04:00.000-04:00

After seeing Transformers, not a reccommended rental, see it in the theatre to...enjoy explosions(?) cause that's what we like to in these part: set off colorful explosions, go to theatres to watch explosions, then mourn for the presence of actual exlosions in other countries... rant over, for now. So we went to seven-11 afterwards and they are running a promotion for the Simpsons Movie, they sell Squishees instead of Slurpees, Krusty-Os instead of Cheerios, and best of all:
Buzz Cola instead of coke.
I think I undertstand how Transformers worked in the 80s.