1 February 2008

Belly up to the buzzsaw.

Wide:

Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus: Best of Both Worlds Concert: Generally I think concert films count as documentaries and documentaries count as original, but in this case I'm willing to make an exception. TV show inspired concerts are out. Also, I recommend that if a local theater actually displays the entire title of this film on the marquee you should never go to that theater again. Not Original

The Eye: Remake of Hong Kong's Jian Gui. Also, it stars Jessica Alba as a concert violinist who sees dead people (or something). If Jessica Alba or derivative horror remakes do it for you, by all means check this out. If, however, the concert violinist angle piques your interest, you should probably steer clear of this one. Not Original

Strange Wilderness: Happy Madison has produced the following films which do not star Adam Sandler: Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo, The Animal, Joe Dirt, Master of Disguise, The Hot Chick, Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star, Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo, Grandma's Boy, The Benchwarmers, and Strange Wilderness. You've been warned. Original

Over Her Dead Body: Remember Ghost or Just Like Heaven or even Hello Again? The writer of this picture probably does, and, according to summaries and reviews, you will too if you watch Over Her Dead Body. Grudgingly Original

Limited:

Caramel: Sex and the City in Beirut? That comment should be considered alongside the several comparisons being drawn between this film and those of Pedro Almodovar. Lebanon's official selection for the Best Foreign Language Oscar. Original

The Witnesses: The War on Aids? As much as America loves to declare war on things, this is a French picture. By all accounts, it's a good and important one, so it's no surprise that I won't be able to see it until a DVD release. Original

Praying With Lior: Lior is an oddly named young man with Downs Syndrome who is touted as having a close connection to God. This is a documentary about Lior and those around him as he moves toward his bar mitzvah. Original

Vivere: From IMDB: "On Christmas Eve, Francesca sets out for Rotterdam in order to find her little sister, who has run off with her musician boyfriend. On the way, she picks up Gerlinde, a heartbroken older woman at the end of her rope." Original

The Silence Before Bach: This sucker is tough to categorize or really think about without seeing it, but since it is at least nominally a Bach biopic (as near as I can tell) it gets the unoriginal label.

Build a Ship, Sail to Sadness: Scottish musical travelogue about a mobile disco. Super-8 pseudo-documentary. Original

The Score:

total:
week: 7-3
year: 25-9

wide:
week: 2-2
year: 8-7

Since the originality of films receiving only limited release keeps the ratio high, I thought I would start keeping track of the originality of wide release films throughout the year. This is both to more accurately represent the films that most of us actually get a chance to see in theaters and to make my hypothesis about how many unoriginal things come out look stronger.

updated template...

lost all comments....
counter thing-y gone, too...
oxygen low....
running out of time...

Ignorance is bliss

I didn't know who John Gibson was until a few days ago. Now I do. What a dick.

I can't say it would surprise me if nothing was done about this. Fox news: ignorance and hate.

MUSIC: beirut: the penalty

Mandated

This is obligatory, so here we go:

I'm calling Picture and Director for No Country for Old Men.

The three best movies I saw this year were No Country, There Will Be Blood, and Zodiac.

Blood wins for actor.

Julie Christie is my guess for actress, but I'll hedge and say it could go to Cottillard or Linney as well. I haven't seen Juno, and the way it's advertised and put forward decreases my desire to do so. Blanchett does good work, but she didn't get an oscar for playing Elizabeth the first time, and this second film is, by all accounts, a lot worse.

Javier gets a statue, and maybe Cate gets one too. I really don't know about the actresses.

I'm going to go with Paul Thomas Anderson for adapted screenplay, and Tony Gilroy for original. This is the academy throwing a bone to the writer/directors that won't get the big prize.

Persepolis will not beat Ratatouille, but wouldn't it be nice?

If Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova don't get an oscar I will become enraged and possibly overthrow the academy. By the way, a lot of the songs in Once were created originally for this picture.

Taxi to the Dark Side wins documentary.

Also, I would like to mention that if that trailer put you in the mood for Czech, this is a good place to soak up some of that culture and actually understanding it.

Also, while I'm out linking stuff all over the place, let me mention someone I'm in love with who has things to say that are not all about movies.

MUSIC: What's the best album of the year? The first track is

25 January 2008

Certainly yes us, uh huh sir!

Wide:

Untraceable: The most original thing about it is that it doesn't star Sandra Bullock. Original

Rambo: One of the working titles Rambo IV: In the Cobra's Eye. Trailer appears to involve Stallone punching a man's head off. Not Original.

How She Move: So is the poor grammar in the title part of the formula for the atrocious "urban dance" genre? Is anyone else offended at all? My friends, we've all been served. Original.

Meet the Spartans: This film wants me to create a new category just for it. It isn't just unoriginal, it is metaunoriginal. This is atrocious. Unoriginal.

Limited:

The Air I Breathe: Yes! There's now even less degrees separating Idi Amin from Scooby Doo in six degrees of Kevin Bacon. Ghost Dog costars with Sarah Michelle Gellar who costars with a CG dog (though not, I think, in this movie). Original.

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days: Romanian period piece about the trials of illegal abortion in the tail end of the mother-worshiping Ceausescu era. Pregnancy is an unusually popular topic in movies recently, but this one doesn't appear to be aiming for laughs. Original.

Shootdown: Documentary about the Cuban military shooting down two American civilians in small planes attempting to aid people crossing to Florida. Original

Alice's House: Brazilian marital strife. Details are hard to find. If I lived anywhere near where this one's playing I'd probably see it just to protest the idea that no one wants to see it. By all accounts there're several good performances here. Original

Elite Squad: Another Brazilian picture. This one is about a street war to clear drugs and gangs out of Rio's slums before a visit from the Pope. For some reason the translated title made me think of 21 Jump Street. Based on a novel by André Batista. Not Original

Lost in Beijing: Romantic and sexual entanglements (not the same as bondage. calm down) in Beijing. The film is banned in China and the filmmakers are prohibited from making another movie for two years. Though it probably shouldn't, that makes me want to see it more. Original.

The Score:

week: 7-3
year: 18-6

Once again the limited releases save the day. The score for this week, if adjusted to represent everything Meet the Spartans "spoofs" would be, as near as I can tell, 7-12.

Topics on the IMDB message board for one of the Spartans directors:
-Goddammit, dude.
-Somebody kill this person
-I DEMAND AN APOLOGY FROM THIS GUY!

EDIT: Roger Ebert has informed me that Mad Money "is actually a remake of a 2001 TV movie... Britain's Granada made it about a team of cleaners who pull the same scam on the Bank of England. Two character first names are the same (Bridget and Jackie), but the last names of the Keaton and Danson characters are changed from Watmore to Cardigan." I am updating the count here and last week.

Dear Durham-Chapel Hill DOT,

I know it doesn't snow very often here, but occasionally there is a threat. The south is ill-prepared for snow, so read carefully.

I am a snow repellent.

I spent a winter in the Czech Republic, and we never saw more than three or four inches. The next year I checked. That town saw more than a foot of snow fall on more than two occasions. In 40 hours, at one point, more snow fell than in the entire previous winter.

The next winter I lived in Cincinnati, OH. According to wikipedia, Cincinnati averages 16 inches of snowfall per year. While I was in residence, we got about 3.

Consider yesterday. You guys were calling for 3-5 inches of snow. What did we actually get? A car coating of above-freezing crap. This is likely to be the norm for as long as I live here, so I propose that it is in your best interest to keep me here.

Here is the way to ensure I keep the snows at bay: pay me $500 a week. Does it cost more than that to trust to the forecasts and brine and salt all those streets? I think not. And don't think that the benefit can be had for free. You never know when I'll decide to move to some other random place (see dwellings for last 4 years: Asheville, Cullowhee, Brno, Cincinnati, Baltimore, Chapel Hill), and that would leave you all unprepared and unprotected from a massive snow storm. Your complacence during my residency would leave you devastated and unprepared.

So if you want all the "winter weather events" to be as tame and pathetic as the most recent one, I suggest putting me on the payroll. Otherwise, I might just travel away. Snow will blanket this place is my absence just to spite me. It's my curse.

Sincerely,

J. Vernon Johnson, esq.

18 January 2008

let's do this thing.

Opening Wide:

Cloverfield: It looks like The Blair Witch meets Godzilla but by god that's original enough. Plus, Blair Witch would have been a lot more enjoyable if Godzilla had shown up at the end, though Godzilla stick figures would have been tough to fabricate (especially with short, clawed dinosaur arms). It's worth noting that one of the most secretive movies in recent memory still screened for critics. If Abrams hush-hush whale-monster can be screened for critics then it's official: not screened = terrible. Original

27 Dresses: Having been knocked up since June, Heigl has apparently been trying like crazy to get hitched before illegitimacy sets in. At the bottom of the shotgun wedding barrel, Cyclops. He also played John Wilkes Boothe in Zoolander. Derivative as hell, but it counts as original.

Mad Money: A movie that, it appears, could actually be improved if Jim Cramer showed up and screamed at the entire cast. Aside from the overarching joke of Diane Keaton doing a movie about doing absurd, stupid things for money (Mama's Boy, Because I Said So), this seems bereft of comedy. Scratch that: there's a joke about robbery and ticket prices and movies that suck. It's not worth making. Original, I guess.

EDIT: Roger Ebert has informed me that Mad Money "is actually a remake of a 2001 TV movie... Britain's Granada made it about a team of cleaners who pull the same scam on the Bank of England. Two character first names are the same (Bridget and Jackie), but the last names of the Keaton and Danson characters are changed from Watmore to Cardigan." Not Original.

Opening Limited:

Teeth: Teenage sex comedies are a dime a dozen. What sets this one apart? Vagina Dentata. I wish I were joking. Original

Cassandra's Dream: As original as O Brother Where Art Thou, in that both are old Greek stories that have been reimagined by excellent writers/directors. I am inclined to call this one original despite the apparent adherence to the myth on which it's based. Discuss. Original

Taxi to the Dark Side: Documentary about what bastards we are. Afghanistan prisons and failures of American Coalition security. Original.

Day Zero: The draft is reinstated, and Uncle Sam wants Elijah Wood. Despite the beard and war overtones, no ring is believed to be involved. Original.




The score:
Week: 6-1
Year: 11-3

It would appear that a good week for originality does not mean a good week for film going. Luckily, There Will be Blood is opening up the street from me. It's on my bucket list.

Amanda's reaction upon watching her first Lars von Trier film:

"If that's your world view, why even bother to make a film? Why not just kill yourself? Why doesn't he just jump off a fucking cliff?"

11 January 2008

This week is the first of the year with more originals (or any).

Opening wide this week:

In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale: Why is the name so cumbersome? Well, there are two reasons. 1) Director Uwe Boll is a horrible filmmaker with no sense of the appropriate. 2) The name of the video game on which it is based (Dungeon Siege) had to be inserted into the title. There does not appear to be a dungeon in the film, but the presence of Ray Liotta suggests there was some threat of imprisonment afoot during the casting process. Not original.

First Sunday: If only using a day of the week in the title and casting Ice Cube qualified this film as a Friday remake. This is, for the purposes of score keeping, original. It is, however, clearly dreadfully unoriginal. Also, it was shot in Baltimore.

The Bucket List: "I know what stomach cancer looks like. I've seen it, and you don't eat three cheeseburgers a day with french fries when you got it." Or probably go on whirlwind sky diving adventures. Absurd and preposterous, but I guess it's original.

The Pirates Who Don't do Anything: A VeggieTales movie: Why is the name so cumbersome? Well, there are two reasons. 1) Director Mike Nawrocki is a horrible filmmaker with no sense of the appropriate. 2) The name of the bible-y video series on which it is based (VeggieTales) had to be inserted into the title. Not Original.

Opening limited:

The Grand: Improvisational picture about a poker tournament starring David Cross and Woody Harrelson and Dennis Farina and Shannon Elizabeth and Michael McKean and Werner Herzog. It is original, and most likely not playing near you.

Running with Arnold: Documentary on Schwarzenegger's gubernatorial campaign. original.

Liberty Kid: 9-11 cost you your job? You could always join the army... or deal drugs. Original.

The Business of Being Born: Documentary about the controversies of natural childbirth "are explored through intimate footage of several couples and their birthing experiences" (rottentomatoes.com). Thanks Ricki Lake. Original.


The Score:
week: 5-2
year: 5-5

note: 5 original films, but 3 are playing in two or less cities. My number-writing choices are inconsistent.

4 January 2008

It seems like fewer and fewer original movies get made, but I haven't really been keeping track. In the new year, I will make an effort to keep track. Hence the rechristianing.

It will work thusly: Every Friday I will list the releases for the week and call them original or not. I foresee a need for another category or two, but I'll tackle those when appropriate.

Not Original would include anything based on a book or play or real life (except for documentaries) as well as any sequels or remakes.

If there happen to be any sequels to remakes (Cheaper by the Dozen 2) or sequels to metasequels (Alien vs. Predator: Requiem) this year, they will be in the super derivative category.

Also, original movies that are based around other films or pop culture (the upcoming Be Kind Rewind) could bring about the creation of a fourth category. We'll keep up with it like a win-loss ratio. I suspect it will be a very bad year for originality.

Atonement: based on a novel by Ian McEwan.

One Missed Call: Remake of the Japanese film Chakushin Ari. Even if this weren't a remake, the "phone call kills you" premise seems like an unpleasant hybrid of The Ring and Scream, which might qualify it for "not original" all the same.

The Killing of John Lennon: Not a documentary. Not original.

The Score: 0-3 (Miami good)

note: All films getting a full release in 2008 will be considered (Atonement) as well as any film getting its first release in 2008 (which is why the 2006 Japanese film A Bloody Aria is getting no attention here despite it's limited release today).

Truthiness?

w00t!

The Carrboro film festival...

...is just as awesome as it sounds. Every time I let my mind wander for a moment, my brain finds cause to remind me of one film in particular. I can only imagine the casting meeting where the writer-director-star told the actor, "you know how black guys act on TV all the time? Just do that."

Atrocious.

yo quero death.

MUSIC: daft punk: harder, better, faster, stronger

Baltimore is crawling with Werewolves

Everyone knows that there have been a few werewolf villages from time to time in rural England or in probably Canada, but these were largely wiped out by Christopher Lee in the 40s and 50s. Lee's battle in 1973 with the werewolf queen (crudely reenacted in a 1985 mockumentary) was believed to have caused the extinction of Lycanthropy.

This belief, however, proved false.

Werewolves began to appear in America in the late 1970's but did not begin to gain a foothold until the election of Ronald Reagan. The Reagan era denial of the werewolf problem was due in large part to the myopic obsession with the USSR, and any attempt to draw federal attention to the problem was likely to be shrugged off with a joke about East Germany's female athletes. This high-level denial placed the burden for investigation and prevention squarely on democrat shoulders.

One of the up and coming anti-werewolf activists was a young Marylander named Martin O'Malley. After trying to aid in the fight nationwide, O'Malley dedicated himself to defending the city of Baltimore in particular when he joined the city council in 1991. Both as councilman and mayor, O'Malley kept the werewolf presence to a minimum... which won him some powerful enemies in the werewolf community.

These enemies found their opportunity to strike in January of 2007 when O'Malley left Baltimore after being elected Governor. Stymied for so long, the werewolves were quick to take advantage in January. An unstoppable horde of terror was unleashed on the city, and the terrified authorities could do nothing but try and conceal the problem.

So effective was the effort at concealing that I moved to the heart of the epidemic with narry a clue.

What must be understood is that most of the lycanthrope damage is totally unreported. What is reported comes through as drug-related murders or armed robberies gone awry. Here's the reported incidences (estimates are that actual kills or conversions number in the thousands). Here's where I moved to. I was surrounded.

The attacks were controlled for a short time because of the impending mayoral primaries... now that Baltimore was finally a werewolf playground, the last thing any lycanthrope wanted was to give the voters reason to elect an anti-werewolf candidate like Mike "Wolfsbane" Schaeffer. After Werewolf denier Sheila Dixon won the primary, virtually ensuring election in November, however, I knew it was time to go.

Initially, the plan was to go west. Werewolves hate California due to earthquakes, and the presence of an action hero governor is also a strong deterrent. Plus the shallow style-over-substance aesthetic in Hollywood has always offended the hairy, soulful werewolf. My lovely lady and I barricaded the door and stocked up on silver bullets and waited to hear from employers in the Pacific time zone. When we finally did, though, we were disappointed.

Research has since shown that the move to not hire me was motivated by fear of werewolves giving chase and coming to make war on the pretty boy Hollywood vampires, however, and not by any lack of skill or hireability on my part.

Finally, in desperation to escape, we sold most of our stuff and leapt into the car. The tiny Yaris was full to bursting, and with werewolves on our heels, we had to make haste. First we drove south through pretty much all over Virginia. Fearing that we would be smelled, we looped back and forth over our own tracks many times, going to Asheville, Chapel Hill, Clayton, Spartanburg, Durham, and Raleigh.



We think we finally lost them when we got our scents confused with a lot of apparently delicious farm animals.

It seems that werewolves can only keep one scent straight at a time. I tried cooking with lots of garlic and spice, and we definitely ate plenty of Thai food and even some Vietnamese, but it was to no avail. Bathing and cooking like normal over such a distance would have taken care of our werewolf pursuit problems most years, of course. This is not most years. The severe drought allows scent to carry further than usual without the interference of moisture. That plus the fact that we were being pursued by the werewolf that was once Ray Lewis meant we had a lot to contend with. Good thing werewolves can't resist the smell of baby livestock.

In the clear for the moment, I'm living with my brother and girlfriend in Chapel Hill. Ohio is giving me unemployment so I'm struggling to get some writing done. Bearings are being gotten and plans formulated. By the end of spring I will likely be on the run again.... if I survive that long.

MUSIC: wolf parade: modern world

Hiatus Schmiatus

The long hot drought the nation has endured is over! The dangerous thirst of the world is slaked! Drink deep of the life-giving errata of my prose and rejoice at my return unto the blogosphere!

Also, accept my apology for the tone above, I am watching reports on evangelists. (Note to Senate investigators: A man who changes his name to Creflo Dollar IS profiting overmuch from anything he is involved in.)

This spot will soon be full of an abbreviated update on the last three months during which I lost internet, car, state of residence, and a number of fantasy football games. Also, I'll throw some pictures and maybe some opinions about movies around willy nilly.

Should I join the WGA anytime soon, however, updates will cease until I get my iTunes residuals.

MUSIC: maritime: german engineering

Son, we sent Margot to live on a farm.

When I was a kid way back in Mocksville , I had a dog named Mutt. He got hit by a truck and got beaten up by a few cars, but he was a tough old bastard. One day when a neighbor was playing on a giant pile of mulch in our driveway (don't ask), he was bitten by his dog.

He liked his dog, so he claimed Mutt did it. It was decided that Mutt was a crotchety, child-biting mongrel. The only thing to do, my father and the kid's father determined, was to have Mutt humanely shot full of chemicals and killed. As I was only about 8 at the time, my father did not tell me that he had my dog euthanized. He instead told me that Mutt had been sent to live on a farm.

Well, son... I know you really liked old Gunmetal Margot... but... remember your old dog, Mutt?

Well... you're 25 now, so I'll tell you the truth. Mutt bit some kid and we put him down. And Margot... well, she got old and useless and has inoperable problems... basically the hobbit that turns the crank case is depressed and needs therapy. We need to get us a new hobbit. They's from the land beyond time... Land beyond time's also gonna hook us up with a unicorn for the radiator. I ain't even gonna tell you 'bout that haunted air condition. Then that air filter, that's made of plutonium, that's gonna require superman, so, you know, plus shipping from krypton. Then the cow, Jumped over the moon. So... we donated her to blind children or something.

May Gunmetal Margot rest in peace.

In a related story, I believe I am in contention for two positions at one company, and neither of the hire-ers is aware of the other seeking me. Hopefully this is all for the good.

Also, I went to a drive in and saw Harry Potter. Let me do some capsule reviews, in fact:

Harry Potter: Who is that seemingly nice besweatered fascist nailing up proclamations curtailing freedom and the Geneva Convention in the name of confused denial and governmental stupidity? For letting Gary Oldman use the costumes and hairstyles he took from his daylight Dracula escapades and casting Laura Bush as herself, I give you the rating of 2 tacos and 2 tostadas.

(Note about ratings: ratings based on the order of the talking hand Jennifer Lopez from that episode of South Park in her #1 hit song "Taco Flavored Kisses." The full order is "3 tacos, 2 tostadas, and a soda pop.")




Sunshine: The last half hour of this movie is so at odds with the rest of the picture that it's hard to imagine it didn't change hands. It feels like Danny Boyle was forced to change an ending that didn't test well or perhaps suffered horrible brain trauma or maybe thought it would be funny to edit in Event Horizon outtakes over the actual suspenseful or poetic (or both) ending he actually made. 2 tacos, 1 tostada, and a soda pop. (before last half hour: 3 tacos, 2 tostadas).

Once: You are lovely and shot well and very pleasant. I like your music a lot. There's some Czech in there, too. And you make me want to go to Dublin a lot. I wonder if it was really such a great idea to play that one song so much, though. I mean, it's good, but can you really afford to play a song 3 times in a 90 minute picture? 3 tacos, 2 tostadas.

Crazy Love: I know what you're thinking... does this movie star Julia Stiles? No, it does not. In fact, it is a documentary about a man who blinded the woman he loved with acid, went to prison, and then got out to marry her. They have been together now for some 30 years or so. The story is interesting, but the film is more of an extended episode of A&E's Biography show than a great piece of documentary filmmaking. 3 tacos, 2 tostadas.

DVD viewing:

Badlands: 3 tacos, 2 tostadas, and a soda pop
Mirrormask: 2 tacos, 2 tostadas, and a soda pop
Undertow: 3 tacos, 2 tostadas, and a soda pop
Mulholland Drive: 3 tacos, 1 tostada, and a soda pop
The Battle of Algiers: 3 tacos, 2 tostadas, and a soda pop

Also, here is a picture from the Yucatan Coast. It is just as hot here, but not as pretty.

MUSIC: the mountain goats: design your own container garden

Here is a jar with a snake in it

I was on a boat that went to from Fort Lauderdale to Key West to Cozumel to Belize City. I have never sweated so much in all my life.

In Mexico I went to a Mayan site and saw a man attacking the ground with a machete. In Key West I saw a lot of chickens but failed to eat any of them. Belize involved a very dark cave.

Upon returning to the Chesapeake I discovered that my car wants to retire. You know how Rocky Balboa keeps retiring in every single movie only to utterly fail to stay retired? Well my car's not doing that. The boxing commission (in this case the Maryland Motor Vehicle Administration) will not let Rocky (gunmetal margot) get back into the ring (drive) without undergoing extensive reconstructive surgery (thousands of dollars worth or repairs). Despite wanting to prove that he's (she's) still got it, the power of attorney crap in Rocky V makes it impossible (my being poor and wanting a new car makes it impossible). Rocky will now be forced to open a restaurant and tell stories of the good old days (gunmetal margot will be forced to be sold to a scrap yard and slowly fall apart).

On the plus side, though, I bought a flag of Belize that someone appears to have stolen from a school or government office.

Now, here is a jar with a snake in it.


MUSIC: Sunset Rubdown: Snake's Got a Leg III

Pittsburgh is crazy

Also, I have mice and my plane leaves at 5:30 in the morning.

Here's to tailoring and dishsoap and art museums that are actually someone's house.

MUSIC: the lemonheads: pittsburgh

move = success

This evening I came home to find my keys for my mailbox and laundry room waiting for me and my internet a-working. I have arrived and now feel like I actually live in this berg.

Look, I went down to Virginia.

There are caves.

Also, I picked up my copy of Homicide. It's getting official-er by the moment.

MUSIC: they might be giants: experimental film

Update: gypsy curse

Bullets again... can't think... so angry...

• The three eldest brothers of the Johnson-Lorenz family merger were going to make a journey to move. The truck was going to cost 300 bucks.
  
• 2nd and 3rd eldest got goddamn wrecked into at 1 a.m. friday morning. Jackass was speeding and swerved into them along with 2nd's lady and crushed the wheel well like nobody's business. 2nd could no longer go on trip, and all three stood around blocking traffic until 2:30 a.m.
• 1st showed up Saturday afternoon. Truck actually cost 500 bucks.
• 1st and 3rd drove to Cincinnati where there was an e-mail waiting to tell them that this incredibly expensive truck was not available at any of the dozens of U-haul locations in Cincinnati and so they would have to drive the next morning to Verona fucking Kentucky.
• The drive from Cincinnati to Baltimore took approximately 1 million years longer than it should have. The duo was forced to stop for the night.
• Tired of fast food, the pair arrived at Denny's (not much better, I know) at 10:25 to see a sign posted in the window that explained that, starting at 10, Denny's would not be serving food aside from dessert and salad until the morning.
  
• Cursing, the pair headed for Taco Bell
• Taco Bell was closed
• McDonald's was repeatedly informed that they should make sure to give plenty of sweet and sour sauce
• Back at the hotel, it is discovered that no sweet and sour sauce was given
• There was no parking in Baltimore
• The previous tenant of the apartment had not moved out
• Not comfortable with moving stuff into an apartment that was still full of someone else's stuff, 3rd and 1st angrily sought to get storage and be done with it.
• The U-haul location did not exist.
• The other U-Haul location gave one month in a storage unit for free.
• That last bit was actually good news. Savor.
• The drive back which should have taken 8 hours took 11.
• Alien abduction
• The Crushanator
• Cell phone service must be replaced. Good, because I'm made of money.
• Deposit.
• 28 hours in a car
• poor
• smashing pumpkins in Asheville... sold out.
• ughh

MUSIC: mountain goats: going to maryland

Letters of Thanks

Dear Amanda,

Baltimore would've been much more difficult without your help. Also, you are amazing.

Thanks.

Dear Hotwire.com

I had a pizza delivered to my hotel room on friday night, and I bragged to the delivery guy about how sweet you are. I stayed in a 12th floor South tower suite in the Baltimore City Center three blocks from the inner harbor for less than fifty bucks a night. I'd be way broker than I am without your cheap hotels.

Thanks.

Dear Gunmetal Margot.

You are so badass it's unbelievable.

Love,

-Jef

"I got the jet packed strapped to my back....

...and I am waiting for you to come around..."

The fix is in, cats and kittens. Today is monday and tomorrow is May. Jesse Williams will have a year on me for a few months, and he can celebrate with Guy Maddin and a shindig I wish I could be around for.

Further down the line the Jenga tower is sturdier than this stack of blocks in front of me ought to suggest. I'm feeling very metaphorical this evening.

First, the past:

Last monday I was given a new assignment at work, and this made me feel like I ought to tell the powers in the office about my plans to flee. There was a late meeting going on, so I sent an e-mail to ask for a sit-down the next day. I came back to work in the morning with an e-mail telling me that the sit-down would have to wait because the person I was to sit down with was currently in California.

More or less immediately thereafter I succumbed to some kind of nightmare plague. I went to bed early on Tuesday and really didn't get up until Saturday afternoon. There were long, long periods of sleep and dream jumbled with reading The Blind Assassin again and watching Arrested Development and the first season of The X-Files. At some point I went into work for a half day. It was like mono except I ate a lot. The impressions left in my mind are surreal.

I made myself stay out of bed and awake on saturday whether I liked it or not. I did not.

It worked, though, and sunday was mostly normal.

The illness makes you stupid (keys left in lock overnight, thinking I called in on Friday when this was in fact a dream, for example). I had taken some work home and left it beside my keys so I would not forget it. I forgot it. I left work after ten minutes to drive back home (with the waning rush) and get it.

Then the long delayed meeting:

• I am moving to Baltimore after my contract ends on May 13
• May 13 is a Sunday, so I am buggering off after the 11th
• Would I be interested in continuing my current project as a freelance?
• This would mean I get paid the same hourly wage and do the same work, submitting my finished product through e-mail.
• I would lose my benefits, though
• And I could probably count on doing this through August with no change in my income.
• And I could do it from home IN BALTIMORE....
• WHILE LOOKING FOR A JOB!
• would I still be interested?

The Present:

You've got to be fucking kidding me. Work from home on my own schedule by the Chesapeake all summer? Be able to go work for a week in Asheville if I so choose? Have a steady income and time to find a really good position? Would I be interested? I would.

The Future:

I am going to Baltimore on the 13. I will go from there to Asheville. In Asheville I will shanghai a car and some pairs of hands, and we will trek up to Cincinnati. We will load a truck with my possessions, give my abode a quick scrubbing and caravan back to Baltimore to get me moved in and situated. Then it's back to asheville to drink more whiskey than Brendan Behan and get my car back (events to be separated by at least one night's sleep).

I will work with my feet propped up, windows open, music loud. I will drink watered-down orange juice and wear pajamas and do 40 hours a week through June. I will get dressed up after my workday and learn my new town. I will not frequent Ray Lewis's barbecue place except as a joke.

At the end of June I will return to the Paris of the South (which is Asheville no matter what anyone says) and take a day or two to relax (because I'll need it) before the whole clan saddles up to head to Ft. Lauderdale to catch our cruise ship. Some Key and Cozumel and Belize will happen, and then I'll take another day or two before returning to my backbreaking labor in Baltimore.

I will, at this point, have about a month more to find work and will, hopefully, begin interviewing and actively seeking a permanent position. With eight months of experience in educational publishing and some glowing references, I should do okay.

"This is an adventure."

MUSIC: antony and the johnsons: free at last

I was going to post a picture...

4-24-2007-13
Originally uploaded by Vocal Shrapnel.

...from my weekend excursion to downtown Cincinnati, but then I figured "hey, if a zombie smoking a cigar won't get you to check out my pictures, nothing will."

Needless to say, I also developed my pictures from the Asheville zombie walk way back in october.

also I bought some cough drops.

MUSIC: belle and sebastian: another sunny day

My car,

Gunmetal Margot, had a lot of problems. One of them was very long-standing. So far as I know, she had an absurd electrical wiring issue that involved one plastic fuse as part of the power flow to her headlights, interior lights, cd player, and brake lights since before I got her. This was stupid. She managed to do all right with it until a short appeared in February.

I replaced the fuse at least once a day until finally Margot rebelled and killed the fuse I put in. She melted it so that no other fuse could be inserted. If you tried, you could hold it while Margot quickly and sparkily melted it into a hot metal nub hugging the transparent green plastic. Needless to say, this display did not make the headlights work.

Gunmetal Margot and I went to see the car-electrical-problems doctor (I'd say it was the car equivalent of a neurologist) and got her brains rewired. Everything works so well that I actually bothered to set the clock on the CD player. I don't have to worry that it's a waste of time, because I KNOW that when I drive over railroad tracks it won't short out and go dead.

Alas, my life is apparently incomplete without electrical problems. I woke up yesterday morning to watch Matt Lauer squint at people in Blacksburg on the Today show before work, and lo, the television did not work. A cursory investigation led me to discover that the sockets in the wall in my living room had become ornamental.

I reset the breakers. All of them. Twice. Nothing.

I called my landlord and she suggested I get an extension cord if I wanted to watch TV. She'd get someone to check it out ASAP, but that usually means, in her experience, a week.

As if that didn't suck enough, there's this happening. It opens in June, so I probably won't be living in the area any more. Is it better that I won't be around to go? Something tells me that they wouldn't take too kindly to my uncontrollable laughter.

Unfortunately, this is not really a joke.

MUSIC: rilo kiley: three hopeful thoughts

Is it the increasing smallness of the world that makes us notice,

or is the world really that much more fucked up?


MUSIC: eels: things the grandchildren should know

bullets (in no particular order)

• I have no story to surround this with, but late at night this week I woke up and briefly outlined a scene wherein a character gets fired from an acting job after repeatedly saying "Macbeth" in the presence of Al Pacino. Example: "I've even done some Shakespeare before. I played the same role as Mel Gibson... um..." Pacino looks dumbfounded. "Macbeth, right?" Then it cuts to him sitting on some steps with a friend. "I didn't get the part... I think I cursed Pacino." "I wouldn't think he'd have a problem with that. Have you seen scarface?" "Not cursed at."
  
• It is snowing in cincinnati today. It has recently been warm enough for this sort of thing to have happened. This is a good time to remind everyone that I'm still looking for work and a town to move to. Between the weather and the firemen, I think it best that I go.
• I caved in and got an ipod when my cd player snuffed it. I get it, it's awesome.
• Zodiac was awesome. I read a review after I saw it that compared it to spending two and a half hours in a filing cabinet. If you can understand how this is actually a great thing, check it (if it's even still in theaters).
• Romany Malco and I first met when he played MC Hammer in "Too Legit: the MC Hammer Story." After that, I never forgot the name, and when I saw it in the opening credits of "The 40 Year Old Virgin" I was concerned. Lucky for both Mr. Malco and me, he was awesome. Now I've seen him in Weeds, and I think I might need to buy him a drink for ever having doubted him. (In my defense: MC Hammer.)
• Alia Shawkat is turning 18 this month. Is noting that any worse than what George Michael was on about all three seasons? Just in case I would also like to wish a happy 43rd to David Cross in April as well.
• Modest Mouse wants to have a dance party with Dashboard off the new album.
  
• Does anyone else feel like that throw-away episode of Lost with the Brazilian guy and his Billy Dee Williams-hanging-out-with ho was a retread of some really obvious twilight zone or outer limits episode? Replace Sawyer with Rod Serling at the end with the shovel and give him some, "Paolo and Nikki thought they were only trapped on a deserted island, but through their twisted web of lies and betrayal, they found themselves somewhere far darker. They found themselves in... the twilight zone" line to go out on and tell me it doesn't reek of the dimension between the pit of men's fear and the sum of his knowledge.
• Those ads back in the day about how great that apple-mango detergent smells are dead on.
• I have given up eating animals with four legs as a way to avoid eating the chili. Does that look good to you?
• I am arranging the table of contents. This is as much fun as it sounds.
  

MUSIC: rock plaza central: anthem for the already defeated

Spring, like a kitten with attention deficit disorder,

has sprung and then gotten distracted by something that flicked around more and run off. The Ohio River Valley has invested in a sizable piece of string and thinks that spring will be lured back again later this week.

Striking a careful balance between usefulness and enjoyment, I have been running about the area exploring. Though not without it's pleasure (who'd have guessed mexican food in muncie would be a pleasure?), the motivation here is to milk the region so that the likelihood of feeling the least bit guilty for running away in a few months will be decreased.

Speaking of fleeing, some of the attempted usefulness lately has been an effort to find work. The criteria are as follows: work that pays all right that I'm qualified for and that is close to some people I dig. The search has been largely confined to DC, Atlanta, and Asheville. The search has so far been fruitless. Anyone who spots something locally that fits the 'qualified and pays all right' criteria should let me know. The odds of it meeting the other criterion are pretty well assured since, if you're reading this, the position will probably be close to you.

See how that works?

North of Cincinnati, about halfway between here and Dayton, is this thing.



Known locally as "touchdown jesus," this is probably the best whatever it is ever. I think that, by having arms, it cannot be called a 'bust,' technically. I will call it the most stunning example of 1/3-body statuary of the messiah to be found, at the very least, in the greater cincinnati area.

More to the north is Dayton. It's one of those places that we've all heard of but none of us really knows why. Well, having been through town, I can't tell you why. There is a small and pretentious region called "Oregon" that boasts artsy shops and record stores to draw in college kids and tourists yet inexplicably contains some kind of adult shop (videos, novelties, risque garments) on each and every block. Outside oregon, Dayton seems to be pretty well an industrial and suburban wasteland. Also, the Dayton Newspaper's offices are located approximately 21 miles south of town.



This was also in Dayton. Your guess is as good as mine.

MUSIC: joanna newsom: the book of right-on

"Oscar-winning screenwriter Ben Affleck."

.
.
okay... I think I'm good.
.
.
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
.
sorry.

I'm okay now.

Seriously, though. Next year I hope they tack on "and star of Daredevil,"

Having watched the man win an oscar, I still find myself with an unexplainable distaste for Forest Whitaker. Certainly this has a lot to do with having seen Phenomenon, Battlefield Earth, and Phone Booth, but even in the good movies I've seen him in, I still never got hip to the man. Interviews and acceptance speeches and anything else I've seen public speaking-wise hasn't swayed me, either.

I'm not saying he's not a good actor, but I am saying that so far, from what I've seen (and I admit to not having seen Ghost Dog or The Last King of Scotland), he hasn't managed to show me anything that overcomes my inexplicable distaste for Mr. Whitaker.

I also have a lot of dislike for Bill Condon, but this is, I think, entirely splicable. Gods and Monsters was cool and all... but between Chicago and Dream Girls all your street cred is long spent.

Also I would like to point out that Al Gore could win a Nobel Prize in addition to his Oscar. Anyone see that coming back when he was guest spotting on Futurama offering a bag of moon sapphires?

Other related commentary includes radically disapproving of the reduction in pomp. Certainly it would be great if they kept things low key and unfunny (Ellen!) and managed to bring the thing to an end in two hours, but if it's going to be a four hour fiasco anyway, let's have some goddamn fireworks. Also, maybe next year you save the Will Ferrell/Jack Black/John C. Reilly number for another hour or two... you tipped your hand, tiresome awards show. And one final note: flesh tone dresses? seriously?

Next year's best actor category is already developing. I predict a three way split between Daniel Day-Lewis in "There Will be Blood," and Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman for "The Bucket List," which will clear the way for Nicholas Cage to get #2 for "Ghost Rider."

There will be a time when "Oscar winning actor Nicholas Cage" will sound as stupid as the Ben Affleck bit. I thought we got past this with the Vampire's Kiss.

MUSIC: clap your hands say yeah!: in this home on ice

P.S. I really didn't think we'd gotten past this, Nick... I just wanted to bring up the vampire's kiss, you scenery chewing woman punching bear, you.

Quick! Guess whose car doesn't have heat or defrost capabilities

MUSIC: pixies: dig for fire

monday?

check.

There's some killer ohio ice storm coming (by the way, ohio... if you're still trying to win my heart, ice storms are the wrong sort of winter weather with which to do it), so that may have been it for work at the office for the next day or two.

That may also be it for electricity for the next day or two, so I have tried to get my idiotic website reading intake up this evening. As a result, I managed to stumble across the something awful notes on "trapped in the closet" only a little too late. The glossary notes under chapter three made me grin like an idiot and made all the secretaries give me weird looks and probably assume I was deranged or in love.

More 'a' than 'b.'

But if you don't chuckle at the definition of "Y'all ass is crazy" then I'm afraid that we can never hang out again. ever.

also, go watch this and tell me that you're not a little upset that you didn't go see it in the theater. I know I am.

Bring on the snow but keep the ice.

MUSIC: madvillain: rhinestone cowboy

Nice try, Ohio

And who could resist going to take pictures of a waterslide covered in snow leading into a pool that is, in fact, a giant sheet of variously-thick ice.

MUSIC: tom mcrae: ghost of a shark

I'm worried about what happens at the Oscars.

Dear Politicians,

Thanks for the civility, but don't forget that we're still on a swiftboat to clusterfuckville.

Sincerely,

Jef

MUSIC: guided by voices: the official ironmen rally song

Finally

In a birthday reversal, it appears that Holly has delivered the snow that mistakenly got sent to LA my way.

Thanks.

Also, happy Birthday.



MUSIC: cat power: the moon

Did I miss a meeting?

I thought it snowed here. I just saw the news. Footage of snow in LA... in Texas?

Over the last week, there has been an ice storm that swept the entire country, coast to coast. It ravaged the north east, dipped down toward Louisiana, meandered up the Mississippi, terrorized Missouri, and attacked New England with a vengeance. It is simply not possible that this storm missed the Ohio River Valley.

But it did.

what?

There has been enough snow, so far this season in Ohio, that, if you kicked around a little, you might be able to hide a dvd case under it.

this is totally unacceptable.

If it doesn't snow within two weeks, I am going to have to... continue to be powerless and unhappy with the weather.

MUSIC: joanna newsom: cosmia

It's a secret...

and I'll tell you.

MUSIC: rogue wave: eyes

One down,

a bunch to go.

The year in review:

Culture and I haven't been getting along all that well this year, so despite my fondness for lists, we won't be doing top anythings this year.

I will say that I was pleased with The Illusionist and The Departed and distressed and dissatisfied with Pirates of the Carribean 2 and Happy Feet. I did not see a lot else in the theaters. The music that made my day this year was Maritime and Maps and Atlases and Regina Spektor (again). I read Mysteries of Pittsburgh and Bee Season and And you Shall Know Our Velocity. For those seeking recommendations, those are in reverse order of quality.

It was a bad year for snow and a good year for rain.

It was an excellent year for the midwest and for midwestern girls and for getting out of college.

It is impossible to judge if it was a good year for summer school or not. I imagine it never is.

The year will end with Champagne.

The new year will start with sleeping late.

Who could ask for anything more?

MUSIC: ben lee: begin

The highway is calling, and I'm a pushover.

Tomorrow, santa-like, I will climb into my sleigh and set out across the globe to deliver modest good cheer and not even once think about going down a chimney.

Early rise and in to work. christmas party, drive west, stop for a while, drive east, stop for a while, drive east, stop for a while, drive west, stop for longer than twelve hours (which will be great).

I keep listening to two songs: Scrooge from Muppet Christmas Carol ('don't ask him for a favor 'cause his nastiness increases' etc...) and, oddly enough, if I had a boat by Lyle Lovett. Just take a look at those lyrics and tell me it isn't amazing.

I quote: "If I had a boat, I'd go out on the ocean; and if I had a pony, I'd ride him on my boat."

I finally know what Julia Roberts saw in him.

...

...

Also, Holly... I've a favor. Can you see if you can't talk to people out there and get them to stop saying "Winner of (insert number) Golden Globe nominations" in advertisements. My ability to make analogies has abandoned me, but you know what's wrong with this.

If I had more energy I might do something clever here like throw together some kind of matching game where you try and figure out what insane book I bought goes to which brother... but I am conserving my energy for a day of rainslicked driving and possible caffeine highs and lows like nobody's business.

"Me up on my pony on my boat."

Merry christmas.

MUSIC: muppets: it feels like christmas

merry christmas everyone

except my lasagna

"and god bless us, everyone."

Christmas is on the way, and Hanukkah is upon us. I feel now is the best time to encourage the whole world to:

A: consider giving someone the Frank Capra box set. If they don't like it, they don't know what they're talking about.

B: watch santa claus is coming to town and learn all the words to "first toymaker to the king."

C: Wash the rankin bass taste out of your mouth with the version of A Christmas Carol starting George C. Scott. (Or better yet, read it.)

D: Watch santa claus conquers the martians, but only if it's the mst3k version. Learn all the words to 'hooray for santa claus' (which is easy because they put the words on the screen over the odd series of colors and squiggles).

E: wash the terrible flavor of boppo's comic timing out of your mouth by caroling with 'a patrick swayze christmas' and 'father christmas' and 'marley and marley' and any of the sufjan stevens original christmas songs.

F: read this. it's festive in that it makes you smile. or laugh out loud at work and get odd looks from the secretaries.

G: watch at least one special christmas episode of futurama.

H: hear 'christmastime' by the smashing pumpkins and try not to shudder or blush. also, try not to let anyone see you smile.

MUSIC: smashing pumpkins: christmastime

I tried to take a picture of the skyline...

...but I completely botched that on account of driving while trying to take the picture. Plus my camera is pretty much crap. So if you want to see the Cincinnati Skyline, you'll have to come and visit (or take nine seconds out of your life to find a picture somewhere else... or... you know... look at the logo for skyline chili... whatever)

In lieu of that picture, which I attempted on a beautiful sunday afternoon after meeting Louisville, I have supplied a less sunny image.





Flurries in Cincinnati? Hot damn, we'd better drive slower than reason.

Also, it has been brought to my attention that at some point in the tenacious D picture, Jack Black prays to Ronnie James Dio. You may not be sold, but I am.

MUSIC: run dmc: christmas in hollis

vanity and being girly

also, look at my house

today was apocalypse weather...

...and so the weekend begins.

Cincinnati was utterly friendly when first I made her my home. She had sunshine and unseasonably warm temperature and I didn't hurt for the fact that I had no coat.

Today started 60 degrees and cloudy and windy and ominous. The clouds whipped across the sky like the future in Terminator 2 and it looked dangerous and the leaves could not sit still.

I sat down at my desk and stowed my apple and got coffee and worked. I wrote questions about Asia and the Middle East between 1300 and 1800 for hours. I ate my apple. I reminisced about how poorly my first lasagna in the new place turned out. I started planning the new World War II maps. I had more coffee. I dug through the trash at one point (don't ask).

Outside my window the sky got darker and darker and by noon some sort of cruel almost-snow was tumbling from the sky. The temperature dropped 10 degrees an hour for those first 3 hours I was at work. The windows of the office fogged up as though everyone inside was up to something inappropriate.

Now I am thrilled that my father saw fit to get me a coat over thanksgiving.

A train on the B and O railroad held up my commute home by a bit. Today was the first day of December and the first day I've been paid for my labor.

I will eat more of my subpar lasagna.

MUSIC: regina spektor: december

It's official.

Before the end of the week, I will be among the lonesome, crowded west. Cincinnati is paying me to live there and work there and be there, and I will oblige.

I'm staying here long enough to vote and pack and then I'm gone.

I would write more but I have, as you can imagine, things to do.

"ain't no city like Cincinnati. Here we are in Utopia"

-Distillers: "Cincinnati"

The birthday cycle ends today.

The ages are all in order again now: boys in a row, Johnson, Lorenz, 21-26.

Still no job, and the fair I wasted time at today will manage to keep me from seeing the decemberists in atlanta.

On the plus side....

MUSIC: calexico: accordian waltz

Do not trust street signs.

Originally uploaded by Vocal Shrapnel.

Despite what they may tell you, zombies are not, in fact, down. They are carrying the sign in a surprising display of tact considering how undead they are.

As the sun was starting to go down in asheville, dozens of these clever zombies made their way out from the Montford Park graveyard and made their way through downtown Asheville. Among them were at least two who inexplicably supported Charles Taylor (R. NC), possibly in a confused effort to weed out brainless people based on their political affiliations.

Luckily, the hearty immune systems of Jef Johnson and Peter Lorenz proved too much for the zombitude to fully conquer, and it seems that after some beer and vegetarian pizza and lots of french fries, the two young men got over their 'bout of the deads.'

Incidentally, Jef seems convinced that when he gets his film developed he will have far more and far better pictures of the carnage that ensued.

Braaaaaains!

MUSIC: built to spill: traces

"Guy in a skeleton costume...

Originally uploaded by Vocal Shrapnel.

...comes up to the guy in the superman suit... runs through him with a broadsword!"

Pasadena is apparently not happening, but tomorrow could bring a summons from Cincinnati. Barring that, I start monday at an unpleasant hotel position.

(Interview excerpt: "How do you feel about plunging toilets?")

Flickr is loaded with fresh new trespassing adventures starring Pete Lorenz which were accompanied by a recurring chorus of "The Cheat is not dead!" I am writing and keeping fingers crossed.

I accidentally bleached many things I should not have. Don't tell 50 cent that I ruined a pair of his jeans.

MUSIC: mountain goats: oceanographer's choice

Clouds ate asheville.

But it was a good night.

MUSIC: tilly and the wall - reckless

It's not so much a Haiku maker

as it is a Haiku finder.

Haiku2 for santoritimes
pollution and thick thick clouds the summer's last full moon is hiding
@ aboutmylife.netblogger.comblogs.gnome.orgblogspot.comdeadjournal.comgreatestjournal.comlivejournal.commyspace.comspaces.msn.com
Created by Grahame

MUSIC: galaxie 500: it's getting late

The moon is allegedly full...

...but it's all a waste on this whole region. Somewhere behind the light pollution and thick, thick clouds, the summer's last full moon is hiding.

I could not find it.

I did find what I had initially imagined to be the bent knees of a napping, plastic-pantsed giant. On further consideration it proved to resemble a pair of oversized gravestones, possibly for novelty purposes or serious, serious mourning.

I also found an odd sense of nostalgia walking by my old high school and recalling, years before I actually attended, how it felt to walk around what I now laughingly call 'the campus.' I remember the awe of separate buildings and the majesty and tranquility of a little gravel footpath around behind the gym. I remember more recently and, I fear, more accurately, how that path was actually as close to a skid row or hell's kitchen as rural North Carolina high school's get.

I also found a strong and growing desire for an excuse to wear one of my shiny new suits.

MUSIC: badly drawn boy: easy love

I found this old post...

...and decided to ressurrect it. The original is from March 2005.

Here're the rules
Step 1: Get your playlist together, put it on random, and play.
Step 2: Pick your favorite lines from the first 15 songs that play.
Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song the lines come from.
Step 4: Underline the songs when someone guesses correctly. Mine have ***.

1 - "he thought an Albertson's Stir Fry Dinner would make his apartment a home."
***Built to Spill - Big Dipper***

2 - "coincidence makes sense only with you."
***Bjork - Joga***

3 - "and do I really have a hand in my forgetting?"
***Nico - Fairest of the Season***

4 - "it's amazing to be alive, to see the words that you said..."
***Tilly and the Wall - In Bed All Day***

5 - "tell my mother, my dog, and clowns"
***David Bowie - Life on Mars*** Andrew

6 - "I've got no sense of direction... I guess I've got no sense at all"
***Magnetic Fields - All the Umbrellas in London***

7 - "I'm watching from your wall as in the streets we fight..."
***PJ Harvey - One Line***

8 - "The freaks who suspect they could never love anyone 'cept the freaks who suspect they could never love anyone..."
***Aimee Mann - Save Me***

9 - "In the middle of a worm on a fish hook you're the wave (you're the wave you're the wave)"
***Bush - Swallowed***

10 - "And not a single soul in these woods ever saw a jaw drop so low as is mine at the moment"
***Architecture in Helsinki - Imaginary/Ordinary***

11 - "I hear in my mind all this music and it breaks my heart."
***Regina Spektor - Fidelity***

12 - "I lay down with the southern range. Swallows drop in and dash the sky, tracing lines of cursive on the horizon."
***Ugly Cassanova - Cat Faces***

13 - "Their voices are bringing the trees to their knees with nothing to say when they're speaking..."
***Bonnie 'Prince' Billy - Brute Choir***

14 - "drive my car into the ocean. You'll think I'm dead..."
***Pixies - Wave of Mutilation***

15 - "There's nothing you could never do to ever let me down, and remember that I'll always love you."
***Badly Drawn Boy - A Minor Incident***

The rain falls hard on this humdrum town, incidentally.

MUSIC: archers of loaf: chumming the ocean

In anticipation of an office job,

I have ordered the main poster I will require for decoration of said office.



In fact, this is probably all I need.

Despite the allergic reaction I seem to have every time Malcolm cooks, my evening of tacos and x-files seems to have taken care of my foot pain. And at least, my mildly feverish, broken-out days have been accompanied by plenty of Labour Day-inspired Sci Fi Channel Originals Marathons.

Fight the future.

MUSIC: wilco: hummingbird

we sail tonight for Singapore.

FADE IN:

INT. ROGER’S BEDROOM -- MORNING

ROGER is lying in bed, sprawled out, diagonal, alone. He’s a narrow late twenties guy, and by the look of the place he’s single. A blanket blocks the light from spilling in through the curtainless window. The clock by the bed reads 7:36 a.m.

Clothes and food containers decorate the room in lieu of knickknacks. Draped across a chair in front of a closed laptop is a white button down, tie still knotted loosely, hanging from the collar.

The clock changes to 7:37. An imperceptible whine starts to issue from it. The whine grows louder slowly and Roger turns on his side.

The whine grows louder and Roger, eyes still closed, wraps a pillow around his head.
The clock is screeching now and Roger sits up slow and awkward. He rolls over toward it and flails toward the button that will make the noise stop.

He misses and leans up more, stretching out over the divide between bedside table and mattress. He reaches for the clock, slaps clumsily out at it. He misses.

The momentum takes him, with a cry, tumbling out of bed. All the sheets come off with him as he falls off the side of the bed, the alarm still screeching away.

Beside the bed, where Roger and his sheet ought to be, there is nothing but dirty floor.

EXT. OCEAN -- DAY

Waves lap against the hull of a ship. Despite the fact that the material comprising it resembles nothing so much as cast iron, the ship is, otherwise, a pirate vessel. It sails effortlessly on a gentle wind over the calm seas and under the clear blue sky.

The Iron Boat is sailing alone on the open ocean, no land in sight.

Suddenly, from far up in the sky, something falls.

The object is too far to be clearly discerned as it falls, though it falls from a great, great height. It does look to be human-shaped, though. And it appears to be trailing bed sheets.

It stop abruptly as the silhouette of falling object is intercepted by the Iron Boat. A thud is heard.

MUSIC: the decemberists: california one/youth and beauty brigade

(P.S. the preceeding is the beginning, finally, of what I've been getting ready to write for two months.)

(P.P.S. "We're lining up the light-loafered and the bored bench warmers, castaways and cutouts, fill it up. Come join the youth and beauty brigade.")

It's well over now,

the Ghost Festival, that is. Dear sons and daughters of hungry ghosts, I am afraid that your next chance to appease and free, albeit culturally cross-wise, will be November 1.

I hope they can wait, because otherwise we've a trite horror movie on our hands.

And speaking of trite horror movies, is it wrong to be purposefully derivative if it's in a lauditory, self-aware, original way? Can you be derivative in an original way, you ask? And in response I direct you to numerous episodes of the X-Files as well as The Man Who Wasn't There and the script I intend to start outlining once I get my hands on a copy of Shadow of A Doubt.

I spent one dollar on a local paper today which has given me absolutely no leads in the hunt for work. I spent five dollars today on lottery tickets. It's either a waste of money five times as great or a fantastic investment. Though I believe it to be the former, clearly my money, literally, is on it being the latter.

Adventures ought to happen for free.

MUSIC: Godspeed you black emperor: providence

cotton

"This song is for the rats who hurled themselves into the ocean when they saw that the explosives in the cargo hold were just about to blow.

This song is for the soil that's toxic clear down to the bedrock, where no thing of consequence can grow. Drop your seeds there, let them go. Let them go.

Let them all go.
Let 'em all go.

This song is for the people who tell their families that they're sorry for things they can't and won't feel sorry for.

And once there was a desk, and now it's in a storage locker somewhere, and this song is for the stick pins and the cottons I left in the top drawer.

Let 'em all go.
Let 'em all go.

I wanna sing one for the cars that are right now headed silent down the highway, and it's dark and there is nobody driving, and something has got to give.

I saw you waiting by the roadside. You didn't know that I was watching.

Now you know.

Let it all go.

Let 'em all go.
Let it all go."

-The Mountain Goats

I'm on my way...

...to becoming either a bond company stooge or a waiter (again). Tomorrow I will buy lottery tickets.

MUSIC: the pixies: caribou

"Best summer ever:

stickers."

Thanks, old navy.

though your inexpensive clearance shorts are grand.

In other news: the heatwave has broken, at least for the moment. Dramatically, the heat wave shattered over 36 hours of downpour, and now it's not even 65.

"Spidoors are go!" -Joel Robinson.

MUSIC: lambchop: something's going on

An educational film:

Here we see Jef carrying what appears to be a computer monitor. Now, Jef appears to be a strapping young lad, fully capable of carrying a monitor to the very ends of the earth...

but what if I were to tell you that Jef hasn't eaten in three days?

You see, without proper nutrition and a reasonable caloric intake, Jef here is as weak as a kitten. The way it works is, each night when Jef is asleep, his body takes what it needs to repair itself, not from the food he's eaten, but from itself. So when he wakes up and should feel refreshed and ready for the day, he is actually sluggish and weak as a kitten.

Oh! Good job, Jef... you nearly lost it there.

Let's hope Jef gets a good meal tonight... and let's not watch him try to get the refrigerator.

(and such was the inner monologue during my move out.)

MUSIC: the cure: the end of the world

(note: college accomplished)

The end of the semester...

... and the end of college are conspiring with my birthday to make it seem like I suddenly became far, far older over the weekend.

Mealcard spent, the eating isn't happening too often, and every waking moment is spent with either reading or writing. There is no significant difference between being 23 years, 11 months and 29 days old and being 24 years and two days old, but somewhere between there I lost enough sleep and got enough work to feel like an old man.

old old old old old.

You kids turn down that damned rock and/or roll, I'm trying to write a research paper on the Plastic People in the form of a script for an after school special. Back in my day we had respect for people who took slightly less than six years to finish a bachelor's degree.

Just wait until your father gets home.

MUSIC: regina spektor: oedipus

Factual errors

amdb

Factual errors: People do not turn into vampires when bitten by skeletons.
Factual errors: Napoleon was not a centaur.
Factual errors: District attorneys do not have the power to commandeer airplanes.
Factual errors: Alex fires his Colt Python revolver 167 times without reloading. This gun holds fewer than 100 bullets.
Factual errors: Winston Churchill was not killed by a swinging log trap; he died of a stroke in 1965 (although he was twice gravely injured by swinging log traps in his home).


MUSIC: the new pornographers: streets of fire

(EDIT: I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's. His hair was perfect.)

Everyone had given up hope.

Originally uploaded by Vocal Shrapnel.

The night was too dark, the fog too thick. On board the plane a priest had been invited to the cockpit. The loudspeaker was resonating with the last rights. The muslim couple aboard were praying. The Rabbi considered saying something about the insensitivity of a Catholic sacrament being given to a religiously and ethnically diverse planeload, but thought better of it as the plane dipped precariously.

The families inside the airport were slowly coming to grips with the impending fate of their loved ones. Signs made to greet the arrivals sat foot-printed and forgotten on the linoleum. It seemed clear that the anticipated arrival which they were heralding would never come.

Just then, an idea struck -- so simple and yet so elusive. Running onto the airstrip, a hand clutching sticks, the other holding a lighter, was Shleeve.

Grief, everyone assumed.

He'd gone mad with grief. Running onto the tarmac through the mist and the shadows, unable to cope with the imminent disaster.

Then a glimmer.

Then a flame.

Sparklers!

They cut the fog. The landing was perfect.

The rabbi sued, but the case was dismissed. "Don't be a dick," the judge said.

Shleeve got a parade.

MUSIC: clinic: the second line

"It's already July...

Shleeve blows
Originally uploaded by Vocal Shrapnel.

...summer's passing us by..."

So the fourth is here and gone France is going to win a world cup and my little sister's in Italy for the last game and Pete and Shleeve and my dad are older.

I will never have to take a math class again for the rest of my life.

Michael Collins' girlfriend was real, I have learned to my chagrin.

"She said she loved me like fireworks...

MUSIC: ben lee: catch my disease

...and that's the way I like it"

Letter from Belgium

"Martin calls to say he's sending old electrical equipment.
That's good we can always use some more electrical equipment.

In the cold clear light of day down here
Everyone's a monster
That's cool with all of us
We've been past the point of help since early April

Susan and her notebook
Freehand drawings of Lon Chaney
Blueprints for geodesic domes
Recipes for cake

Yeah we're all here
Chewing our tongues off
Waiting for the fever to break

When we walk out in the sunlight we tell every we know it hurts our eyes
When the real reason we don't like it is that it makes us wonder if we're dying

And Martin's found an old trunk full of stage makeup in the basement
And he's sending it along
We can always use more makeup
Yeah more creams and powders

And Carrie's got the feeling
That the people next door
Will close in like a wolf pack
Should we make one small mistake

Yeah we're all here
Chewing our tongues off
Waiting for the fever to break."

-the mountain goats

Harrison Ford is driving down the road...

...and he looks out his window. Instead of the idyllic small town scene he expects, there is a fucking volkswagen completely ingulfed in flames in a bank parking lot. This scene produced by Jerry Bruckheimer.

Except that I was driving down the road and there was a fucking volkswagen completely ingulfed in flames in a bank parking lot.



Walmart, it turns out, does not have hummus. I searched high and low. I asked. No, Walmart does not have hummus. So I bought my bagels and orange juice and drove down to ingles for hummus. As I neared ingles, I noticed that there was a particularly horrible odor in the air, even for papermill country. And there was an awful lot of smoke blowing across the road.

Some crazy hillbilly no doubt burning trash, I thought, and turned into the parking lot at ingles and fucking christ is that a car on fire?! I parked sideways and ran to cross the street, but the one fireman there wouldn't let that happen.



He couldn't do anything except watch, the fire was uncontainable. The red VW bus was flaming bumper to bumper and just sitting there. There was a tiny car-sized fire extinguisher sitting in the parking lot, obviously used up to no avail. I tried to zoom in, but my camera was shitty. I'd have killed for my canon, but at least I had something.

I called Pete... I had to tell someone. There is a goddamn car on fire! I am watching it!

Glass and metal fell burning to the asphalt spreading debris and making the firemen jump back. I couldn't feel the heat in a physical sense.

How in hell does this even happen?

Finally a truck showed up, and there was more attention paid to extinguishing the van than to a kid running across traffic.

Perhaps I am a horrible person, I didn't even think to ask if there'd been anyone inside until after it was well out. There had been, but they had, after exhausting their fire extinguisher, gotten the hell out and watched it burn.

Go to flickr.

Goddamn.

MUSIC: guided by voices: the finest joke is upon us

"for my heart's a boat in in tow...

fertilizer., originally uploaded by Vocal Shrapnel.

...and I'd give the world to know..." why I signed up for statistics five days a week.

Writing until way past four then getting up at nine for an exam... I took my first nap in at least a decade and woke up hungry and with the odd feeling that I'd dreamt of an easy statistics exam.

That's the first full week behind me, and it only gets better. I get to start eating somewhere other than Brown (though this is the name of the cafeteria, it also describes all the food served in it) and my history class starts up.

My advisor miscounted, so I was set to be ONE HOUR short of graduating this august. The head of the department has given agreed to give me the hour credit for an 8+ page paper in which I assault the historical accuracy of the film Michael Collins and discuss the pitfalls and compromises of history as film.

This is, of course, the Michael Collins who bribed and blew up English people and not the Michael Collins who flew around the moon while Neil and Buzz quipped about stepping on mankind.

(or for... who knows?)

On my deadman's walk to Brown today I saw that the ground had been... colored. I suspect it's fertilizer, but the color suggests it could also be actual paint. Someone did a bad job of matching the colors, but the idea, I surmise, is to cover all those bald patches on the lawn like some giant Ron Popeil commercial. This bottle has also been fertilized.

I was carrying my camera because yesterday the sewer lid had been open and I wanted to get a ninja-turtles-esque picture of that. Alas, it was sealed today.

Everyone and their mom should go to youtube and seach for 'quiet as a mouse.' Find the video for said song by Margot and the Nuclear So and So's and watch it. Oil painting animation has never made cats look like such bastards.

Neil Gaiman's Smoke and Mirrors is probably the best book to keep by your bed, ever.

MUSIC: coco rosie: terrible angels