As an economist, I kinda like Paul Krugman...I read his blog, I've enjoyed a few of his books, and despite being somewhat leftist for my tastes has opinions I respect and often agree with. However, his text book is fucking terrible. I'm trying to study for my International Trade final, and maybe I'm just retarded but it's kinda hard to pick-up on math when rather than numerical examples - or even ready formulas - all I'm given is a few graphs (none of which are explained on the same page, which leads to really annoying constant, distracting page-flipping) and hypotheticals that really don't explain how to solve any actual problem. This would be fine if my test was just on concepts, cause conceptually I know exactly how all these tariffs are supposed to behave and could knock that shit out - but no, we're expected to solve and model situations with rather specific numbers attached to them and to hell if I know how to do that.
Here's an example: from a practice problem we've been given, we're supposed to calculate the effect of a .5 tariff on home/foreign prices, and the change in trade. There is no example of how to do this in the book. Instead, we get a graph and this "The increase in the price in Home, from Pw to Pt, is less than the amount of the tariff..." well fuck me, there goes my idea of just adding .5 to Pw and recalculating the volume of trade with that, and with no example of how to find Pt anywhere in this rather hefty tome how the fuck do you propose I do this, Paul Krugman? Magic? Go fuck yourself.
For those of you saying "Sean, I'm sure if you had payed attention in lecture the teacher did an example blah blah blah" go die in a fire. The lectures consist of Bulut reading the slides - provided by the publisher - that are essentially just a summary of each chapter. No real math is given, which really hasn't been terribly detrimental until now. Even if there weren't real examples, usable formulas have at least been given in the past. But in regards to tariffs? I'm pretty sure this is some pinko-commie bullshit Krugman is pulling so no one new will be able to stand up and say "tariffs are bad, and here's the math to prove it!" to the inevitable douchebags in public office that don't understand economics because no one in government ever understands economics (or history, for that matter. WTB semi-strenuous civil service exams) so Krugman can write more books about how fucked up our foreign and domestic policies are. God damn neo-Keynesian and his God damn example-less book.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Taboo is SRS BUSNESS
So the other night many of us gathered at Rob/Tiji's apartment for a game night; a brutal competition of sorts that truly brings out the worst of us all. We started out with a jovial game of Taboo, one that rather quickly escalated into a still unresolved rules dispute regarding intent and homonyms. Here's the situation: the word was "lint," and to get to that Doug described the Catholic "holiday" season preceding Easter, and I shouted out "Lent" - but because I'm from Georgia where people don't talk right and grew up with something of a speech impediment and pronounce some things oddly Lent and lint might as well be the same damn word because I'm basically incapable of pronouncing them differently (see aforementioned speech impediment and southern living). Now, according to Rob and Tiji, it didn't count because despite sounding the same I couldn't have been intending to say the right word. Doug and I claim that shouter intent doesn't matter, and using homonyms is an integral part of the game.
The official rules (as quoted from the Hasbro page) read thus: "Each time a teammate shouts out the correct Guess Word, the Clue-giver's team scores a point." Now, this rule is rather vague in regards to our argument, but if a guesser's intent was to be taken into account, it should say that somewhere in the directions, which it doesn't. Similarly, if homonyms weren't allowed as clues and guesses, it would actively forbid their use, but the directions don't do that. Ultimately the clues being given are irrelevant to the guesses they generate, and so my saying lint/lent counted.
Now, this argument wasn't like a one-time deal...it first came up towards the middle of the game, and after spending many minutes literally shouting at each other - over a Taboo ruling - we opted to note that round with an asterisk and revisit it at the end should it matter. Naturally, it did and the argument broke out with renewed fury, and was unabated when Ellington and his friend we didn't know finally got there. I can imagine it was all a bit unsettling for the kid - he walked into an apartment he'd never seen before to find 4 reasonably grown men in a shouting match over a game of Taboo. He looked terribly confused, to say the least. Ellington ultimately sided with Doug and I, by the bye, but Rob and Tiji still refused to concede the point and we dropped it - for now - to play Life.
If you haven't played Life before I hate you and don't care to explain the premise, but it turned us all into assholes. And by "us all" I primarily mean Doug, Rob, and myself as the others didn't seem to have quite our competitive streak. Rob won for "dickhead move of the game," performing a rather baited screwing of Ellington early on: Rob started off with the 30k salary, but got lucky and hit the very first switch salary spot on the board - opting to grab the 90k salary from Doug. This may not seem like much - just part of the game - but it goes deeper. At that time Ellington was rolling large, having just drawn the 100k salary, and people were confused as to why Rob didn't take that...it was a shrewd move on his part, as Doug's career allowed him to pay 4 life tiles and steal the 100k salary whenever he wanted. Which was exactly what he did on his turn, grabbing the 100k for himself and leaving El the measly 30k.
Before that the game had actually been pretty friendly (we were only like 3 turns in, after all), but that definitely set off a pattern of degradation and things quickly spiraled out of control. It wasn't until the game was over that I noticed that the "white people" had effectively teamed up to screw over the "minorities;" Rob, Doug, and myself were all over a million at the end, while neither Tiji, El, nor El's friend had half that. The entire game we would steal their life tiles when able, ensure they had the lowest salaries, and do whatever we could to ensure they finished at the bottom of Life's socio-economic ladder with very little recourse. I don't think Milton Bradley intended the game of Life to be about class struggle, but that game certainly was. (Side note: I cruised to an easy victory...cashing out at almost 2 mil with a good 700k lead. Suck it, Rob)
I also discovered the worst movie ever made that night, Stay On Point. This film makes Battlefield Earth seem like a fucking masterpiece. It's so bad that I'm actually considering returning it, as owning it makes me feel dirty. Fuck, it's bad enough that IMDB doesn't even have a rating for it! Actually, I've been amazed at how little information there is about it, period. Neither IMDB, amazon, rottentomatos, or yahoomovies have ANY reviews for it, or any information beyond what's on the back of the case; which admittedly is pretty great: "Stay On Point is as real as hip-hop gets [with that stunning appraisal alone how could I not buy it?] when $1M in cash and Ecstasy [I wasn't aware ex was a proper noun...maybe that's why this film is hip-hop, and I'm not] goes missing and everyone in the ghetto is a suspect [that seems much more impressive until you learn the ghetto is just five people, and they spent most of the time in the same room so there really isn't that much mystery to it all]. Get ready to bet it all - nobody's taking any prisoners. When it's all said and done, death before lock up [I have no idea why that's a relevant statement, but I assume it lends the film street cred or something].
So after reading that, and seeing the cast list was "Ghetto Ratz, NBZ, Bella Maf, Goon Squad, and KGB" I felt rather inclined to buy this film. I'm still particularly tickled by the name "ghetto ratz" referring to a singular person. That's just fantastic. Anyways, some things this film does (beyond making one's life irrevocably less worth living):
1) Alternate between different tint filters for every damn scene. Beyond being edited by a 12 year old with ADD and an imac, there was really no reason to do this. It certainly didn't disguise the fact that every scene was shot in one of three rooms, and it certainly didn't make me think "ooooh, there's a blue tint! SIGNIFICANCE!" It just made me hate Leonardo Gonzalez (the writer/director/producer who shockingly has done NOTHING ELSE. Seriously, even the Bloodz vs Wolvez homie got to make multiple movies...that should tell you how bad this movie is)
2) Have every character repeat the title. A lot. I swear every other line was "stay on point!" They just yelled it at each other like a fucking mantra, but it didn't seem to mean anything. A sample of dialogue: "Hey, n*gger, how's it going?" "Not bad, friend, stay on point!" I think one of them even yelled it at a fat stripper at one point. Subtle innuendo? Probably not.
3) Use a window-wipe transition. I've watched some pretty bad movies in my life, many using very cheap and cheezy wipe transitions, but I have NEVER seen the window-wipe used in a serious production. Stay On Point utilized it at *least* three times, as well as every other transition that exists in cheap editing software; you know, all the crazy obvious ones you figure out suck by like 8th grade? Yea...
4) Break into a rap video sporadically throughout the movie. Yep, at random intervals this "film" would literally become a rap video...complete with dancing hoes, random borders of flying money, and repeating the same shots like 4 times for no reason. The sequences didn't even make sense; it'd be something like "hey, I'm walking into the bathroom...RAP-STAR MODE ACTIVATE!"
5) Had characters named Cognac and Swoop Murder. Cognac? Really? How did that seem like a good idea?
6) Pointless cross-dressing. So in what I assume is the "climax" you see random guy (I couldn't really be bothered to keep track of who's-who's) put on a blonde wig, lipstick, and then walk into a building and shoot a bunch of people. Now, I'm sure you're thinking he was just in disguise, except the way it all played out a disguise was irrelevant. He walked into the building unmolested - no guards or anything, and came up behind his targets in a stairwell - so they couldn't even see him coming; they were just walking up the stairs - pulls out a few guns and starts shooting them all. The wig/makeup served no purpose! Did he just want to feel pretty while he murdered random people?
7) Start the film in medias res, then taking 10 minutes to show a bunch of random characters and describe who they are (half of which are already dead), flashing forward to a later event, then back to the normal time-line that's actually a flashback describing why the narrator is actually already dead but still narrating the ENTIRE FILM and then forgetting that it all is supposed to be a flashback, forgetting about the dead guy in the trunk at the start of the film, and continuing on it's merry fucking way. Confused? Yea, me too.
8) Starting out by saying "Based on true Ghetto Storiez" and then only telling one really shitty one. How bad were these "storiez" that combined they equaled this? Am I supposed to think better of your film because one time, in the hood, someone got shot over drugs? Fuck you, Leonardo Gonzalez.
9) Not knowing how fucking long you are. The box clearly says "Approx 71 mins." However, the movie is actually 84 minutes long...How the fuck do you screw that up? 71 is not a good approximation for 84, theta-hat does not equal theta, you lose.
10) Saying the DVD has special features, and then not actually having special features. That one is kinda self-explanatory.
Conclusion: DON'T BUY THIS MOVIE!!
Oh, and I didn't post this song on Nolan's Christmas song list as I didn't think of it, but it's pretty great in a weird way. It's done by a now non-existent Athens band called Porn Orchard, but they're doing pretty good impressions of Peter Murphy and Tom Waits. 99X plays it every year at Christmas; good stuff. Link since I don't feel like trying to get mp3's to play on my blog right now.
The official rules (as quoted from the Hasbro page) read thus: "Each time a teammate shouts out the correct Guess Word, the Clue-giver's team scores a point." Now, this rule is rather vague in regards to our argument, but if a guesser's intent was to be taken into account, it should say that somewhere in the directions, which it doesn't. Similarly, if homonyms weren't allowed as clues and guesses, it would actively forbid their use, but the directions don't do that. Ultimately the clues being given are irrelevant to the guesses they generate, and so my saying lint/lent counted.
Now, this argument wasn't like a one-time deal...it first came up towards the middle of the game, and after spending many minutes literally shouting at each other - over a Taboo ruling - we opted to note that round with an asterisk and revisit it at the end should it matter. Naturally, it did and the argument broke out with renewed fury, and was unabated when Ellington and his friend we didn't know finally got there. I can imagine it was all a bit unsettling for the kid - he walked into an apartment he'd never seen before to find 4 reasonably grown men in a shouting match over a game of Taboo. He looked terribly confused, to say the least. Ellington ultimately sided with Doug and I, by the bye, but Rob and Tiji still refused to concede the point and we dropped it - for now - to play Life.
If you haven't played Life before I hate you and don't care to explain the premise, but it turned us all into assholes. And by "us all" I primarily mean Doug, Rob, and myself as the others didn't seem to have quite our competitive streak. Rob won for "dickhead move of the game," performing a rather baited screwing of Ellington early on: Rob started off with the 30k salary, but got lucky and hit the very first switch salary spot on the board - opting to grab the 90k salary from Doug. This may not seem like much - just part of the game - but it goes deeper. At that time Ellington was rolling large, having just drawn the 100k salary, and people were confused as to why Rob didn't take that...it was a shrewd move on his part, as Doug's career allowed him to pay 4 life tiles and steal the 100k salary whenever he wanted. Which was exactly what he did on his turn, grabbing the 100k for himself and leaving El the measly 30k.
Before that the game had actually been pretty friendly (we were only like 3 turns in, after all), but that definitely set off a pattern of degradation and things quickly spiraled out of control. It wasn't until the game was over that I noticed that the "white people" had effectively teamed up to screw over the "minorities;" Rob, Doug, and myself were all over a million at the end, while neither Tiji, El, nor El's friend had half that. The entire game we would steal their life tiles when able, ensure they had the lowest salaries, and do whatever we could to ensure they finished at the bottom of Life's socio-economic ladder with very little recourse. I don't think Milton Bradley intended the game of Life to be about class struggle, but that game certainly was. (Side note: I cruised to an easy victory...cashing out at almost 2 mil with a good 700k lead. Suck it, Rob)
I also discovered the worst movie ever made that night, Stay On Point. This film makes Battlefield Earth seem like a fucking masterpiece. It's so bad that I'm actually considering returning it, as owning it makes me feel dirty. Fuck, it's bad enough that IMDB doesn't even have a rating for it! Actually, I've been amazed at how little information there is about it, period. Neither IMDB, amazon, rottentomatos, or yahoomovies have ANY reviews for it, or any information beyond what's on the back of the case; which admittedly is pretty great: "Stay On Point is as real as hip-hop gets [with that stunning appraisal alone how could I not buy it?] when $1M in cash and Ecstasy [I wasn't aware ex was a proper noun...maybe that's why this film is hip-hop, and I'm not] goes missing and everyone in the ghetto is a suspect [that seems much more impressive until you learn the ghetto is just five people, and they spent most of the time in the same room so there really isn't that much mystery to it all]. Get ready to bet it all - nobody's taking any prisoners. When it's all said and done, death before lock up [I have no idea why that's a relevant statement, but I assume it lends the film street cred or something].
So after reading that, and seeing the cast list was "Ghetto Ratz, NBZ, Bella Maf, Goon Squad, and KGB" I felt rather inclined to buy this film. I'm still particularly tickled by the name "ghetto ratz" referring to a singular person. That's just fantastic. Anyways, some things this film does (beyond making one's life irrevocably less worth living):
1) Alternate between different tint filters for every damn scene. Beyond being edited by a 12 year old with ADD and an imac, there was really no reason to do this. It certainly didn't disguise the fact that every scene was shot in one of three rooms, and it certainly didn't make me think "ooooh, there's a blue tint! SIGNIFICANCE!" It just made me hate Leonardo Gonzalez (the writer/director/producer who shockingly has done NOTHING ELSE. Seriously, even the Bloodz vs Wolvez homie got to make multiple movies...that should tell you how bad this movie is)
2) Have every character repeat the title. A lot. I swear every other line was "stay on point!" They just yelled it at each other like a fucking mantra, but it didn't seem to mean anything. A sample of dialogue: "Hey, n*gger, how's it going?" "Not bad, friend, stay on point!" I think one of them even yelled it at a fat stripper at one point. Subtle innuendo? Probably not.
3) Use a window-wipe transition. I've watched some pretty bad movies in my life, many using very cheap and cheezy wipe transitions, but I have NEVER seen the window-wipe used in a serious production. Stay On Point utilized it at *least* three times, as well as every other transition that exists in cheap editing software; you know, all the crazy obvious ones you figure out suck by like 8th grade? Yea...
4) Break into a rap video sporadically throughout the movie. Yep, at random intervals this "film" would literally become a rap video...complete with dancing hoes, random borders of flying money, and repeating the same shots like 4 times for no reason. The sequences didn't even make sense; it'd be something like "hey, I'm walking into the bathroom...RAP-STAR MODE ACTIVATE!"
5) Had characters named Cognac and Swoop Murder. Cognac? Really? How did that seem like a good idea?
6) Pointless cross-dressing. So in what I assume is the "climax" you see random guy (I couldn't really be bothered to keep track of who's-who's) put on a blonde wig, lipstick, and then walk into a building and shoot a bunch of people. Now, I'm sure you're thinking he was just in disguise, except the way it all played out a disguise was irrelevant. He walked into the building unmolested - no guards or anything, and came up behind his targets in a stairwell - so they couldn't even see him coming; they were just walking up the stairs - pulls out a few guns and starts shooting them all. The wig/makeup served no purpose! Did he just want to feel pretty while he murdered random people?
7) Start the film in medias res, then taking 10 minutes to show a bunch of random characters and describe who they are (half of which are already dead), flashing forward to a later event, then back to the normal time-line that's actually a flashback describing why the narrator is actually already dead but still narrating the ENTIRE FILM and then forgetting that it all is supposed to be a flashback, forgetting about the dead guy in the trunk at the start of the film, and continuing on it's merry fucking way. Confused? Yea, me too.
8) Starting out by saying "Based on true Ghetto Storiez" and then only telling one really shitty one. How bad were these "storiez" that combined they equaled this? Am I supposed to think better of your film because one time, in the hood, someone got shot over drugs? Fuck you, Leonardo Gonzalez.
9) Not knowing how fucking long you are. The box clearly says "Approx 71 mins." However, the movie is actually 84 minutes long...How the fuck do you screw that up? 71 is not a good approximation for 84, theta-hat does not equal theta, you lose.
10) Saying the DVD has special features, and then not actually having special features. That one is kinda self-explanatory.
Conclusion: DON'T BUY THIS MOVIE!!
Oh, and I didn't post this song on Nolan's Christmas song list as I didn't think of it, but it's pretty great in a weird way. It's done by a now non-existent Athens band called Porn Orchard, but they're doing pretty good impressions of Peter Murphy and Tom Waits. 99X plays it every year at Christmas; good stuff. Link since I don't feel like trying to get mp3's to play on my blog right now.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Upcoming movies
Similar to how Nolan has the record industry as his cause, so to speak, I'm a big proponent of the movie industry. With that needless introduction out of the way, here's a list of stuff I'm looking forward to, or are at least intrigued by:
The Golden Compass
I read the His Dark Materials trilogy back in middle school and loved it, and so I really hope this movie can live up to it to some degree. I'm sure New Line is hoping the same, seeing as it cost upwards $180 million to make. Though honestly I'm happy just to be seeing giant cgi polar bears kicking ass (the polar bear is my favorite bear by far - it's almost stupid how much I value them over other rather viable bears like the grizzly), you all should go see it.
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Tim Burton, Johhny Depp, Alan Rickman, rousing musical numbers and people made into pies. Do I really need to say more? Go see this movie. Side note: I tried to link the trailer from the official site, but their flash code was really weird and I couldn't get an autoPlay=false command to work so I had to go with youtube.
There Will Be Blood
Daniel Day-Lewis alone makes this worth seeing. The trailer looks more intriguing than anything, but it promises big things and certainly looks compelling. Also, Jonny Greenwood (guitarist from Radiohead) is doing the score, which is kinda cool I guess.
Alvin and the Chipmunks
Honestly I'm a bit ashamed to be posting this here. I was horrified when I heard they were making an Alvin movie (despite a family tradition where we listen to the Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas record every holiday season and a tendency to watch the cartoon as a child and pretend I was actually watching Rescue Rangers, which was a bad-ass show.) and felt sorry for Jason Lee that he felt his career was over enough to sign on for a role like this. And then I saw the new trailer, and actually found myself laughing and such.
I'm still not sure about the film, but Jason Lee seems fairly on his game and will likely make or break it. There's a fair chance I won't actually see this one, regardless, but what the hell - that shouldn't stop you!
Black Devil Doll
Does a day go by where I'm not looking forward to Black Devil Doll? Not really, no. It stands to be the family feel-good movie of 2008. Calling it now. Though surprisingly enough it isn't even the first black devil doll movie; there was apparently a film "videoed" (the box's word, not mine) in 1984 called Black Devil Doll from Hell that according to IMDB has one named person in the cast. I'm pretty sure I need find and buy this movie.
The Golden Compass
I read the His Dark Materials trilogy back in middle school and loved it, and so I really hope this movie can live up to it to some degree. I'm sure New Line is hoping the same, seeing as it cost upwards $180 million to make. Though honestly I'm happy just to be seeing giant cgi polar bears kicking ass (the polar bear is my favorite bear by far - it's almost stupid how much I value them over other rather viable bears like the grizzly), you all should go see it.
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Tim Burton, Johhny Depp, Alan Rickman, rousing musical numbers and people made into pies. Do I really need to say more? Go see this movie. Side note: I tried to link the trailer from the official site, but their flash code was really weird and I couldn't get an autoPlay=false command to work so I had to go with youtube.
There Will Be Blood
Daniel Day-Lewis alone makes this worth seeing. The trailer looks more intriguing than anything, but it promises big things and certainly looks compelling. Also, Jonny Greenwood (guitarist from Radiohead) is doing the score, which is kinda cool I guess.
Alvin and the Chipmunks
Honestly I'm a bit ashamed to be posting this here. I was horrified when I heard they were making an Alvin movie (despite a family tradition where we listen to the Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas record every holiday season and a tendency to watch the cartoon as a child and pretend I was actually watching Rescue Rangers, which was a bad-ass show.) and felt sorry for Jason Lee that he felt his career was over enough to sign on for a role like this. And then I saw the new trailer, and actually found myself laughing and such.
I'm still not sure about the film, but Jason Lee seems fairly on his game and will likely make or break it. There's a fair chance I won't actually see this one, regardless, but what the hell - that shouldn't stop you!
Black Devil Doll
Does a day go by where I'm not looking forward to Black Devil Doll? Not really, no. It stands to be the family feel-good movie of 2008. Calling it now. Though surprisingly enough it isn't even the first black devil doll movie; there was apparently a film "videoed" (the box's word, not mine) in 1984 called Black Devil Doll from Hell that according to IMDB has one named person in the cast. I'm pretty sure I need find and buy this movie.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
a not-so-deep political debate
Since the presidential race started to pick up I've had a lot of people make the comment that Barack Obama voted against the Iraq war. Please stop saying this, because it is WRONG. Obama may have opposed the war, but he was not even a member of the Senate in 2002 when the vote happened; it's impossible for him to have voted against it, and yet people keep saying as much. If anything, his voting record suggests otherwise as he's voted for every bill funding the war since joining the Senate in 2005. Dennis fucking Kucinich is the only D. candidate to actually vote against the war at the time. On a related note, the stupid fucking facebook candidate chooser test thing matched me kinda high with Mr. Dennis fucking Kucinich, and I spent the rest of the day curled up in a corner crying and cutting myself. Oh, and in my Superior opinion, if you're determined to vote Democrat you should support Bill Richardson. He seems to suck markedly less than the other choices.
If you've ever bitched about illegal immigration (DEY TOOK OUR JEBS!!), or thought building a big-ass wall across the Mexican border seemed a sound decision, go read this: Classically Liberal: The logic of the anti-immigrant crowd. I see no compelling reason to add anything to this, seeing as he's done a fine job with it all and I'm lazy and kinda want to just go pretend to take a nap for a bit. On a related note, I re-watched Highlander last night and fuck is that a fantastic movie. Not only does it drop the pretense of using an article in the title (though the villain appropriately adopts one in reference to himself: he is not Kurgan, but rather THE Kurgan. Brilliant.); it also features the quintessential 80's movie ballad: a soaring tale of woeful longing composed by one Brian May specifically for the film after seeing a screening and being like "god damn, this movie is awesome. I want to write the entire soundtrack for it!" and they did, and it was great. Anyways this is relevant because [little known fact] Brian May and the rest of Queen were illegal immigrants and had we built a giant wall between the U.S. and Great Britain Highlander might have gone without it's quintessential 80's movie ballad theme and such a travesty would be like 9/11 times one thousand. That's right, nine hundred and eleven thousand! The fact that the whole Queen illegal immigration thing is nothing sort of farcical is irrelevant, as I assume it true for continuity alone.
If you've ever bitched about illegal immigration (DEY TOOK OUR JEBS!!), or thought building a big-ass wall across the Mexican border seemed a sound decision, go read this: Classically Liberal: The logic of the anti-immigrant crowd. I see no compelling reason to add anything to this, seeing as he's done a fine job with it all and I'm lazy and kinda want to just go pretend to take a nap for a bit. On a related note, I re-watched Highlander last night and fuck is that a fantastic movie. Not only does it drop the pretense of using an article in the title (though the villain appropriately adopts one in reference to himself: he is not Kurgan, but rather THE Kurgan. Brilliant.); it also features the quintessential 80's movie ballad: a soaring tale of woeful longing composed by one Brian May specifically for the film after seeing a screening and being like "god damn, this movie is awesome. I want to write the entire soundtrack for it!" and they did, and it was great. Anyways this is relevant because [little known fact] Brian May and the rest of Queen were illegal immigrants and had we built a giant wall between the U.S. and Great Britain Highlander might have gone without it's quintessential 80's movie ballad theme and such a travesty would be like 9/11 times one thousand. That's right, nine hundred and eleven thousand! The fact that the whole Queen illegal immigration thing is nothing sort of farcical is irrelevant, as I assume it true for continuity alone.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
still anger
So I've now spent a substantial bulk of the past half hour trying to jimmy the lock on the aforementioned roommate's door, but have accomplished little beyond splintering a once useful Borders rewards card. His clock is seemingly of the persistent, never-ending beeping variety as opposed to the much jollier shuts itself off after 5 minutes type that I cherish so greatly right now. I might just be losing it, but I swear the damn thing is actually getting louder. It's really hard to describe just how upset I am about all of this, but it's likely John will be getting many poorly scribed hate letters rammed under his door before this morning is over because lord knows I will always choose the passive aggressive angry missive over anything bordering confrontation. Not that it matters seeing as I doubt he'll be back anywhere near close enough to RIGHT NOW for my liking. I'm going to go cry now.
anger
For some reason I can't quite fathom, my roommate's alarm clock is going off right now. Normally this would be closer to all well and good, except for the fact that he isn't back from Thanksgiving break rendering the entire alarm thing rather pointless unless he just decided that I needed to be woken at 6 am on this particular Sunday morning because otherwise it just wouldn't be a special enough day or some shit. Imagine that was clever, because at the moment I'm way too irritated by the rather loud incessant beeping coming from his room to bother exercising my particular brand of sardonic wit. Did I mention that he locked his door so I can't go in and shut the damn thing off? Yea, that's really cool. God damn it.
Monday, November 19, 2007
We're caught in a trap...
I obsess about the weirdest things sometimes. Essentially since waking up yesterday afternoon the only song I’ve wanted to listen to was Elvis Presley’s Suspicious Minds. I just keep listening to it. Over and over again. Initially I didn’t even know what song it was; I had the tune stuck in my head but for the life of me couldn’t come up with a single lyric. The solution? Frantically downloading every Elvis song I could find and skipping through them until I finally found the one I needed so badly. The odd part about all of this being that I don’t think I’ve ever purposely sought out an Elvis Presley song to listen to. Fuck me, I’m not even sure how I came up with this song to begin with; I’m keen on proclaiming latent psychic prowess but feel it might be somewhat premature. Or at the least manifested in a stupidly useless way – baring that life-or-death scenario where someone, anyone must think of and secure an Elvis song they may or may not have heard before and find it thus deterring a terrorist plot and saving the day leading to a massive celebration and hardy handshakes with top military brass and the girl finally being won for the unlikely hero and the roaring 80’s song as the credits start to roll so that no one in the audience has to see what happens 15 minutes later when everyone stops caring and remembers why said hero was so unlikely and leave him alone to wallow in his past glory while slowly killing himself at the bar – that would be a depressing story and not the proper fodder for summer blockbusters; even if George Clooney is somehow convinced to be a part of it all…On that note no one go see Michael Clayton, unless you like sitting around for 2 hours wondering what the fuck is the point of this movie and when is something – anything – going to happen that I even remotely care about and then just having it end for no real reason. There are literally horses running about for NO FUCKING REASON. It would make more sense if those horses could talk, because then we might’ve gotten some reasonable exposition, but nooooo that’s asking too fucking much of Tom Gilroy it would seem. What the fuck am I talking about?
Right, so I obsess over rather weird things at times. Somewhere during the whole Suspicious Minds on repeat thing my mind wandered from the usual combination of painful reminiscing, inner monologue, and weird anime fantasies where I’m generally some form of ninja to envisioning an ultimate Elvis showdown – a post-apocalyptic brawl between Elvis Presley and Elvis Costello. It would have to take place in an old Vegas lounge – now the castle throne of the King and would involve Costello cutting his way through King’s legions of mutant followers before a final climatic battle that would rage for eternity; Essentially Ragnarok, only rocking more capes and rhinestones. Suspicious Minds is of course the theme du jour as I feel it adequately mirrors the clashing of titans locked in epic everlasting combat. Did I mention they fight armed only with katanas and flourish? That’s important. Anyways, I’ve yet to develop a motive for Costello’s journey, suffice to say that this duel is preceded by him fighting and singing his way across the desert ruins of society – not entirely unlike Resident Evil: Apocalypse which is another movie no one should go see – struggling against the cannibalistic mutant survivors in order to reach the King and engage him in glorious battle. And before you say anything, this is a Reagan era commie fearing apocalyptic future, so the culprit is obviously NUCLEAR WAR and not some pussy modern day people-ender like GLOBAL WARMING (Ooooooh! The scariness that is gradual temperature increases…in 30 years I might not need quite so heavy a jacket come winter!). Moreover, NUCLEAR WAR always results in cannibalistic mutant survivors (it’s a well documented fact) and I believe Elvis Costello to be the best man for eradicating them.
The movie version I think should star Jake Gyllenhaal as Elvis Costello. It’s a bold move, I know, but I’m going for a darker, jaded Donnie Darko Costello here and it gives me an excuse to have my man crush wear buddy holly glasses and fuck people up with a katana. Bruce Campbell would obviously reprise his role as the King (and if you don’t know who Bruce Campbell is I hate you, and if you didn’t know he was ever Elvis Presley I compel you to go buy Bubba Ho-Tep and learn the error of your ways) and automatically it becomes the manliest film ever conceived let alone made. If Clive fucking Turner were to direct it I feel the world might end due to an awesome overload. That would be an entirely cannibalistic mutant-free apocalypse world, by the way, but I’d like to think would feature ninjas and pirates fighting in Napoleonic grandeur. And maybe a robot army or two.
edit: I decided on the title after writing all this, and now I can't stop laughing because I keep envisioning the robot chicken Admiral Ackbar yelling "it's a trap!" and then his cereal: "your tongues can not repel flavor of that magnitude!" Also, I'm delighted that I was able to get the title in italics.
Friday, November 16, 2007
the moon is down: overheard in class
So today in class some douchebag tried to convince us of the importance of the US going back to the moon and establishing a base there:
Some Douchebag: "It's pivotal that we establish ourselves on the moon before the Chinese, otherwise they'll lay claim to the fossil fuel surpluses there and we all know we could use them."
Ow. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow. I weep for our futures.
Some Douchebag: "It's pivotal that we establish ourselves on the moon before the Chinese, otherwise they'll lay claim to the fossil fuel surpluses there and we all know we could use them."
Ow. Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow. I weep for our futures.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
PA, PA, PANTS MAN!
Or: "The Japanese are Really Fucking Weird"
I don't even know where to begin on this, just watch the video:
Wow.
On an oddly related note, Sonny Perdue is a fucking idiot. You want to relieve some of the stress caused by Georgia's current drought? RAISE FUCKING WATER PRICES. Higher prices means people will actually be forced to *care* about water as a commodity. Just telling people they have to stop watering their lawns and washing their cars isn't enough, because Americans are selfish. Anyone who's taken a basic economics class should understand this, but apparently good ole boy Sonny thinks calling a prayer meeting is a better course of action. I hate this state.
I don't even know where to begin on this, just watch the video:
Wow.
On an oddly related note, Sonny Perdue is a fucking idiot. You want to relieve some of the stress caused by Georgia's current drought? RAISE FUCKING WATER PRICES. Higher prices means people will actually be forced to *care* about water as a commodity. Just telling people they have to stop watering their lawns and washing their cars isn't enough, because Americans are selfish. Anyone who's taken a basic economics class should understand this, but apparently good ole boy Sonny thinks calling a prayer meeting is a better course of action. I hate this state.
Friday, November 9, 2007
K-K-K-K-KRANG!
So while walking to class today I was assaulted not once, but twice! by flying acorns. Not being under a tree, my initial fear involved mutant wing-ed acorns - perhaps the result of improperly dumped radioactive waste, or the illegal designs of an overzealous genetic scientist. Such fears are justified this day and age, and I depend on Al Gore to protect me from the EVIL.
My fears proved unwarranted (at least for the moment - I'm always on the look out for radical nut elements; the acorn is clearly the Al-Qaeda to the Walnut's majestic democracy. And almonds are the ninjas. I digress.) as I noticed some asshole throwing - like a girl or Sean Nolan - acorns towards a tree on the quad. I can't begin to figure out why he was doing it, but his aim was so poor I'm almost forced to believe he was hurling these terrorist projectiles at me, and just happened to hit the tree in passing. An odd accusation, to be sure, but who sits around throwing acorns? I mean, really; it's not like this is 2nd grade and you're waging a war on L.Blanchard and her girl minions. Those were dark times, and drastic measures had to be taken. Seasons change, time passes on, and this jackass was throwing acorns around the quad.
The most harrowing aspect of it all was my realization that the perpetrator was none other than my imaginary friend! To clarify I don't mean to imply that this friend is a figment of my imagination. That would mean I was throwing acorns at myself, which is just silly. Rather, this person is real and I just like to imagine he is my friend. I have talked to him exactly once, back sophomore year when he was in my tennis class. I figure he's an econ major, though, since I've had a few classes with him since. I think his name is Jay, but I call him Patrick Stumpie (the "ie" is specific here. Fuck ending "y's") because he looks like a slimmer Patrick Stump and wears a lot of trucker hats and argyle. I'm not sure when I started considering him an imaginary friend, but I swear it's not as weird or creepy as it seems.
Regardless, when I saw Patrick Stumpie throwing acorns at me I was aghast. I gave him a shocked look, as if to say "dude, we've been friends for years and this is how you treat me?" but he paid it no heed. Hell, he didn't even look at me. Of course the rest of the way to class I tried to figure out how I had slighted him. I mean, he was my friend, right? It must have been pretty severe for him to completely trash our imaginary friendship. I wanted to run to him, apologizw profusely and beg forgiveness for my imagined slight but assumed this real-life action might seem out of place to him.
As it turns out Patrick Stumpie is in my International Trade class - which is where I was heading. By the time he strolled in he had become my nemesis; that position formerly being held solely by Green Shirt Kid. Not really being able to pluralize nemesis, by definition, my mind melded them into one SUPER nemesis. Imagine Super Shredder from the end of the Secret of the Ooze only wearing a green shirt and the face of a slimmer Patrick Stump. Oh, and a trucker hat. Everything else is the exact same, right down to the Vanilla Ice background beat and the villainous zeal to break shit. I glared at him meaningful, glibly - trying to portray to him his newly acquired position WITH MY EYES! But rather than acknowledge my animosity he just walked past and took a seat somewhere behind me. Well played, Green Shirt Stumpie...we shall meet again.
My fears proved unwarranted (at least for the moment - I'm always on the look out for radical nut elements; the acorn is clearly the Al-Qaeda to the Walnut's majestic democracy. And almonds are the ninjas. I digress.) as I noticed some asshole throwing - like a girl or Sean Nolan - acorns towards a tree on the quad. I can't begin to figure out why he was doing it, but his aim was so poor I'm almost forced to believe he was hurling these terrorist projectiles at me, and just happened to hit the tree in passing. An odd accusation, to be sure, but who sits around throwing acorns? I mean, really; it's not like this is 2nd grade and you're waging a war on L.Blanchard and her girl minions. Those were dark times, and drastic measures had to be taken. Seasons change, time passes on, and this jackass was throwing acorns around the quad.
The most harrowing aspect of it all was my realization that the perpetrator was none other than my imaginary friend! To clarify I don't mean to imply that this friend is a figment of my imagination. That would mean I was throwing acorns at myself, which is just silly. Rather, this person is real and I just like to imagine he is my friend. I have talked to him exactly once, back sophomore year when he was in my tennis class. I figure he's an econ major, though, since I've had a few classes with him since. I think his name is Jay, but I call him Patrick Stumpie (the "ie" is specific here. Fuck ending "y's") because he looks like a slimmer Patrick Stump and wears a lot of trucker hats and argyle. I'm not sure when I started considering him an imaginary friend, but I swear it's not as weird or creepy as it seems.
Regardless, when I saw Patrick Stumpie throwing acorns at me I was aghast. I gave him a shocked look, as if to say "dude, we've been friends for years and this is how you treat me?" but he paid it no heed. Hell, he didn't even look at me. Of course the rest of the way to class I tried to figure out how I had slighted him. I mean, he was my friend, right? It must have been pretty severe for him to completely trash our imaginary friendship. I wanted to run to him, apologizw profusely and beg forgiveness for my imagined slight but assumed this real-life action might seem out of place to him.
As it turns out Patrick Stumpie is in my International Trade class - which is where I was heading. By the time he strolled in he had become my nemesis; that position formerly being held solely by Green Shirt Kid. Not really being able to pluralize nemesis, by definition, my mind melded them into one SUPER nemesis. Imagine Super Shredder from the end of the Secret of the Ooze only wearing a green shirt and the face of a slimmer Patrick Stump. Oh, and a trucker hat. Everything else is the exact same, right down to the Vanilla Ice background beat and the villainous zeal to break shit. I glared at him meaningful, glibly - trying to portray to him his newly acquired position WITH MY EYES! But rather than acknowledge my animosity he just walked past and took a seat somewhere behind me. Well played, Green Shirt Stumpie...we shall meet again.
Fuck the strike, watch 30 Rock
So I just got around to watching last night's 30 Rock, and you all need to go to nbc.com and watch it RIGHT NOW. Definitely the funniest episode this season, and being the cleverest sitcom on TV right now (yes, it's better than the Office - I've declared it so) that means a lot. I laughed harder than I do at the Schrodinger picture. I mean, it managed to make David Schwimmer seem funny. DAVID FUCKING SCHWIMMER! I wouldn't believe it if I didn't watch the episode myself.
"Mr. Lutz, you ate all of my parakeet's medication. Thanks to you Sonny Crocket has been having seizures all morning."
"Mr. Jordan, I saw you steal my sink"
Fucking classic.
"Mr. Lutz, you ate all of my parakeet's medication. Thanks to you Sonny Crocket has been having seizures all morning."
"Mr. Jordan, I saw you steal my sink"
Fucking classic.
Overheard: IHOP[apotamus]
So today I was up somewhere around ungodly early (for me, at least) for an appointment, and afterwards decided to treat myself to das ihop. Ihop always entertains, providing interesting characters and conversations to overhear, but generally you don't get three such conversations. And yes, unlike the masses who just use quotation marks, colons, and fanciful names to illustrate overheard conversations, I stay true to narrative structures. That's right, I went there.
ANYWAYS, back to conversation numero uno. They were literally sitting right next to me which was needlessly awkward (ihop has an odd center divider that isn't really a divider so much as a token barrier) and the entire time the woman did nothing but complain about how the syrup wasn't warm enough. 25 fucking minutes of not warm syrup. Oh, and her boy-toy talked about robbing MARTA. Seriously. "If those n*ggers aren't careful, I'm going to show up on payday with a ski mask and my glock. Get what's fucking mine." I practically died choking on my coffee when he said, and both he and syrup girl looked over at me, seemingly irate. I tried to ignore them and focus on casually smearing jam on a piece of toast, but I'm pretty sure they saw right through my act.
Conversation the two. College couple, obviously the awkward post-coital breakfast. The "bro" rocking sweats and a hoody - and a rather douchebag visor, while the "chick" had adorned herself in classic hood-rat club attire. Including stiletto heels (and no, knowing what a stiletto is does not make me gay. It just means I have occasional interesting thursday nights; those things are a bitch to dance on stage with, but I'm getting fairly good), so I'm assuming she is probably just working towards her MRS. Or is just a prostitute. Regardless, I didn't really hear much of what they talked about; I honestly tried, but said strumpet just rambled on and on using a goddamn baby voice, and I kept flashing back to directed study senior yet. It's a matter of personal pride that I didn't snap and pour hot coffee on her face; God knows I still want to.
Conversation the last. The stereotype, with a twist! They were sitting off in a corner, and I'm about 47% sure they'll end up on the news later tonight. Ma and Pa were yelling at each other in a deep inbred mountain-folk voice, while junior added a prominent lisp to the dialect. Yes, we're talking about a gay hillbilly here. It really shouldn't be funny, because Pa spent most of the time talking about beating his "queer ass boy" while Ma cried into her biscuits n' gravy. I felt especially proud of my state with Pa's "I sware ta God, wife, you call the cops agin an ay'll fuckin' shoot ya" outburst. How the hell are you supposed to respond to that? Probably better options out there than quickly eating the last piece of toast and skedaddling out of there before being forced to give a police statement and incriminate the dude from texas chainsaw massacre. Last thing I need in my life is Gunnar Hansen (or even the less intimidating but perhaps creepier Mathew McConaughey) chasing me around with an old chainsaw and a comically large flagon of moonshine.
ANYWAYS, back to conversation numero uno. They were literally sitting right next to me which was needlessly awkward (ihop has an odd center divider that isn't really a divider so much as a token barrier) and the entire time the woman did nothing but complain about how the syrup wasn't warm enough. 25 fucking minutes of not warm syrup. Oh, and her boy-toy talked about robbing MARTA. Seriously. "If those n*ggers aren't careful, I'm going to show up on payday with a ski mask and my glock. Get what's fucking mine." I practically died choking on my coffee when he said, and both he and syrup girl looked over at me, seemingly irate. I tried to ignore them and focus on casually smearing jam on a piece of toast, but I'm pretty sure they saw right through my act.
Conversation the two. College couple, obviously the awkward post-coital breakfast. The "bro" rocking sweats and a hoody - and a rather douchebag visor, while the "chick" had adorned herself in classic hood-rat club attire. Including stiletto heels (and no, knowing what a stiletto is does not make me gay. It just means I have occasional interesting thursday nights; those things are a bitch to dance on stage with, but I'm getting fairly good), so I'm assuming she is probably just working towards her MRS. Or is just a prostitute. Regardless, I didn't really hear much of what they talked about; I honestly tried, but said strumpet just rambled on and on using a goddamn baby voice, and I kept flashing back to directed study senior yet. It's a matter of personal pride that I didn't snap and pour hot coffee on her face; God knows I still want to.
Conversation the last. The stereotype, with a twist! They were sitting off in a corner, and I'm about 47% sure they'll end up on the news later tonight. Ma and Pa were yelling at each other in a deep inbred mountain-folk voice, while junior added a prominent lisp to the dialect. Yes, we're talking about a gay hillbilly here. It really shouldn't be funny, because Pa spent most of the time talking about beating his "queer ass boy" while Ma cried into her biscuits n' gravy. I felt especially proud of my state with Pa's "I sware ta God, wife, you call the cops agin an ay'll fuckin' shoot ya" outburst. How the hell are you supposed to respond to that? Probably better options out there than quickly eating the last piece of toast and skedaddling out of there before being forced to give a police statement and incriminate the dude from texas chainsaw massacre. Last thing I need in my life is Gunnar Hansen (or even the less intimidating but perhaps creepier Mathew McConaughey) chasing me around with an old chainsaw and a comically large flagon of moonshine.
I laugh at nerdy things sometime. OK, most of the time
So tonight while browsing the web I stumbled across two things I find insultingly amusing; insulting because I generally don't laugh that heartily, it's a character flaw, but both of these things had me cracking up.
1) http://www.progenywow.com/zulaman.php
For the record, don't click this if you have something important open that you're working on. Because you will forget about it and accomplish nothing new for as long as this site is open. Don't say I didn't warn you
2)
Yes, I'm a huge nerd, but I emit deep belly laughs every time I look at this picture. Maybe it's the look of utter contempt on Heir Doctor's face...or maybe it's how I imagine his voice being John Stewart's Dick Cheney impersonation; taunting me with obtuse particle physics terminology. Side note: anyone else moderately excited about Cheney potentially being impeached? Dennis Kucinich actually proposed something I can support. What are the odds? Probably similar to whether...I'm sorry, this sentence was going to be clever and poignant, but I just looked at the picture again and started laughing. Clever comment goes poof! and I'm left with a poorly constructed sentence featuring rather adroit onomatopoeia usage. Not my intent, surely, but I'm satisfied because I got to use the word onomatopoeia. Twice!
1) http://www.progenywow.com/zulaman.php
For the record, don't click this if you have something important open that you're working on. Because you will forget about it and accomplish nothing new for as long as this site is open. Don't say I didn't warn you
2)
Yes, I'm a huge nerd, but I emit deep belly laughs every time I look at this picture. Maybe it's the look of utter contempt on Heir Doctor's face...or maybe it's how I imagine his voice being John Stewart's Dick Cheney impersonation; taunting me with obtuse particle physics terminology. Side note: anyone else moderately excited about Cheney potentially being impeached? Dennis Kucinich actually proposed something I can support. What are the odds? Probably similar to whether...I'm sorry, this sentence was going to be clever and poignant, but I just looked at the picture again and started laughing. Clever comment goes poof! and I'm left with a poorly constructed sentence featuring rather adroit onomatopoeia usage. Not my intent, surely, but I'm satisfied because I got to use the word onomatopoeia. Twice!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
HE ONLY GETS MAD BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU
So it might be the lack of sleep, or just the dementia brought on by combining ghastly quantities of cold medication, caffeine, and powdered donuts, but I feel enlightened watching this video. Seriously. I'm on like my 4th fucking viewing in a row. The one in orange is needlessly smug, and reminds me of the time Mr. Lindahl fucked a pig. The one in green is just straight fly - he has the most svelte jacket I've ever seen. And can seemingly control the weather. So he's Storm. Only slightly fat and Indian. So not really Storm at all. I think my eyes are bleeding.
Oh and things I don't like? My calculator's batteries dying right as I start to take a test. My cell phone's pitiful excuse for a calculator just does not cut it when one is trying to perform calculus. Instead I relied on scribbling demonic icons and conjuring maths via archaic words of power. It was less than fruitful. My test also featured a graph that existed somewhere between my imagination and the land of wrong (tunak tunak tun, take #5). Here's hoping for partial credit. I'm going to go commandeer a box of kleenex and pass out.
Oh and things I don't like? My calculator's batteries dying right as I start to take a test. My cell phone's pitiful excuse for a calculator just does not cut it when one is trying to perform calculus. Instead I relied on scribbling demonic icons and conjuring maths via archaic words of power. It was less than fruitful. My test also featured a graph that existed somewhere between my imagination and the land of wrong (tunak tunak tun, take #5). Here's hoping for partial credit. I'm going to go commandeer a box of kleenex and pass out.
Can you hear the drums fernando?
So I'm pretty sure it's a sign of many more deep-seeded issues, but instead of studying for - or even worrying about - my international trade test tomorrow I'm listening to ABBA and using a 3-hole-punch on documents that frankly don't need holes punched in them. The best part is I legitimately know practically none of the material on the aforementioned test; and this isn't the classic "waaaah I don't know anything" I always do right before generally pimping a test. I'm forced to acknowledge that if I took the test right now I'd very likely get a zero. This is probably something I should try and remedy, ideally at an expedited rate, because I really don't want to get a zero on a midterm. I'm just hoping some other pointless distraction doesn't rear it's ugly head once this stupid stack of papers has sufficiently been punched. Kinda wish i had a xanax right now. I don't even fucking like ABBA...even if they are Swedish gods.
Monday, November 5, 2007
misrepresentation
So I just opened my email to see the header "Gustave would like to be added as one of your friends!" And was immediately excited. Expecting the Burundi man-eater, I was unreasonably disappointed to find not a crocodile so much as some tranny with stupidly large fake breasts looking like she just walked out of the black devil doll trailer who's trying to sell me Canadian pharmaceuticals at a discount rate. Thanks, whore, but if I wanted to illicitly procure some meds I wouldn't look to some myspace whore for the hook-up; especially not one that misrepresents herself as a 20 ft Nile crocodile to try and seduce me into accepting her as a friend.
I find fake Gustave's tactics reprehensible. Everyone should watch out for her dastardly tactics and be prepared. Don't get your hopes up about having magical adventures riding on the back of a Crocodile steed who speaks with a charming British accent and wears a monocle and top hat because it's just a pipe dream. God, I hate fake Gustave so much right now
I find fake Gustave's tactics reprehensible. Everyone should watch out for her dastardly tactics and be prepared. Don't get your hopes up about having magical adventures riding on the back of a Crocodile steed who speaks with a charming British accent and wears a monocle and top hat because it's just a pipe dream. God, I hate fake Gustave so much right now
Friday, November 2, 2007
best. comic. ever.
I don't think I need to say how awesome this is. Just read it, it's astounding. Grammar humor is always the top for me!
source: dinosaur comics
because one can never have enough Say Anything
So in general I'm a fan of repetitive listening of good music, and am especially partial to good live performances. Live stuff having the added benefit of seeming much "cooler" as I jump around my room singing the lyrics and pretending that I am, in fact, a rock God and not just an odd kid jumping around his room in woman-esq jeans and a pair of beat-up converse. Ignore that.
In one of their cooler moves, at&t has posted an entire Say Anything show (13 fucking songs!) for your viewing pleasure over here. The only downside is while most of the songs are at a good bitrate (768k) some of the others (like "alive with the glory of love," sadly) dip as low 112k, which is a shame. Also, they censored it, which I'm not a fan of.
In case you're too lazy to actually go listen to the show, here's the first track I've ripped so far presented for your convenience:
In one of their cooler moves, at&t has posted an entire Say Anything show (13 fucking songs!) for your viewing pleasure over here. The only downside is while most of the songs are at a good bitrate (768k) some of the others (like "alive with the glory of love," sadly) dip as low 112k, which is a shame. Also, they censored it, which I'm not a fan of.
In case you're too lazy to actually go listen to the show, here's the first track I've ripped so far presented for your convenience:
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
david duchovny is not dead
So on recommendation of others, tonight I've sat around and caught up on Californication, which is a great show. It's quirky, it's vulgar, it's well-written; it has a dog named cat stevens that Hank (the main character) calls yusuf islam. It's also making me want to give up on practicality and try and be a writer (again), which is probably a dangerous notion seeing as I'm supposed to be trying to not degenerate into a ball of self-destruction, spiraling downwards and consuming all that comes near. Christ, that isn't hyperbolic at all. Regardless, scorning the few years I've spent on my econ degree might to pursue a life of creative poorness and seems terribly futile at this point. I'm so close to having completely sold out that it'd be a shame to but all the corporate profiteering to waste.
I digress. Watch Californication. David Duchovny is everything that was great about Fox Mulder, all over again.
I digress. Watch Californication. David Duchovny is everything that was great about Fox Mulder, all over again.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
SMASHING PUMPKINS, only not
So tonight I was supposed to be going to the see the smashing pumpkins. Only apparently like 2 hours before the show was supposed to start they postponed it to an as yet undisclosed date. god damn it.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
vampire moonwalks
So I took a brief sojourn home today to get my plaid, and was surprised to find the largest moonwalk I've ever seen sitting in the Vampire King's yard. Apparently it's part of some yearly festival he throws, but Nolan and I both assume there's a deeper more dastardly plot. And perhaps a basis for a pretty good Howling movie.
Note that the castle is blurry both because the Vampire King doesn't allow people to take clear pictures of his domain, and also because high resolution pictures of Dracula's fortress from Van Helsing don't exist in the first 12 pages of a google image search. Also note that the moonwalk is sized to scale (and of similar design) and probably fits like a thousand newly created young vampires (vamptoddlers?) insides.
Note that the castle is blurry both because the Vampire King doesn't allow people to take clear pictures of his domain, and also because high resolution pictures of Dracula's fortress from Van Helsing don't exist in the first 12 pages of a google image search. Also note that the moonwalk is sized to scale (and of similar design) and probably fits like a thousand newly created young vampires (vamptoddlers?) insides.
SCotch!
I am drunk and mcdonalds (evil globalizing bastards destryoing culture and eating babies) forgot to give me sweet n' sour sauce to accompany my chicken mcnuggets. irrepable! I do say i have the hiccups; has one ever sneezed while having the hiccups? I wish that fate on NO MAN because it is indefinably terrible.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Daily Show and Pink Shirts
So I certainly risk jinxing everything doing this, but there's an [admittedly] small chance that I'll be working as a writer/correspondent for the Daily Show next year. I applied largely on a whim, but got a call back and had a phone interview earlier this week. Apparently they liked my writing on my app, and want me to fly up to New York next semester for an in-person interview. Dear God, I hope this happens.
In other news, I've often been criticized for having a somewhat boring wardrobe pallet (to be fair most of the criticism is internal voices, but whatev) - a lot of blues and other muted colors, and so on something bordering a whim I bought a pink shirt. I haven't decided how I feel about it quite yet, but it has Godzilla on it so there are certainly positives.
It's great, right?
And now for the part where I act like a teenage girl, but OMG did everyone watch Scrubs last night? So great. I love the phone bit. And I want to marry Elliot Reid, because I have issues.
In other news, I've often been criticized for having a somewhat boring wardrobe pallet (to be fair most of the criticism is internal voices, but whatev) - a lot of blues and other muted colors, and so on something bordering a whim I bought a pink shirt. I haven't decided how I feel about it quite yet, but it has Godzilla on it so there are certainly positives.
It's great, right?
And now for the part where I act like a teenage girl, but OMG did everyone watch Scrubs last night? So great. I love the phone bit. And I want to marry Elliot Reid, because I have issues.
Judge Alex?
So I'm currently sitting in Cox Hall, eating and scorning international trade, and a bunch the workers are sitting here watching Judge Alex. I'd never heard of Judge Alex before, but he looks kinda like Judge Reinhold, and behaves kinda like Judge Dredd. I can barely follow what's going on: there's just two fat women arguing about the bar they co-own. Doesn't seem to be a plaintiff or a defendant or even a case for that matter. Just two hefty bitches yelling and Judge Alex sitting on a thrown of scrutiny deciding their fate. The twist seems to be that these two are a mother/daughter tag team. According to the daughter, the mom is a drunken, lazy racist who's been known to throw bottles at "the coloreds" who come to the bar. Tit for tat, the daughter is supposedly a drug dealer and a murderer. I'm somewhat astounded that these people made it to tv small claims court and that neither has had any more serious criminal charges filed. Or maybe Judge Alex just ignores their pleas of mercy and executes them all with right-wing fury at the end. Regardless, I can't help but feel this show would be infinitely better if it had Jack McCoy in it.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
I have Problems
It's likely I new some new hobbies. Some people do productive things, like [INSERT ANYTHING YOU HAVE EVER DONE, AND THEN GLOAT ABOUT YOUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS], whereas I voluntarily deprive myself of sleep to watch Die Another Day while holding my face in an awkward grimace. This movie is bad, but utterly Bond-tastic. Everything you ever thought you wanted in a Bond film is in this movie. Overly complex villainous machinations involving either missiles, laser beams, diamonds, or walruses? Check. Constant quips not-so-subtlety alluding to Bond's sexual prowess? Check. Gigantic building made entirely of ice that exists for no reason other than it can later melt and kill the buxom sidekick? Check. Car battle taking place in said building? Oh yes, that happens.
You're likely wondering how this film could be bad, with such great attributes, but such is the wonder of this movie. "Unbelievable" doesn't quite do it justice. "Stupidly shallow while also confusingly complex" is a more apt description. The main Villain is an Oxford educated North Korean Colonel who is selling African conflict diamonds to fund his gigantic satellite laser thingie so he can wipe out the mine field at the 38th parallel and invade South Korea. Oh, and he had gene therapy to change himself into some British prat who manages to go from absolute obscurity to Knight of the Realm in less than a year and really likes extreme sports. Somehow Bond is involved, as is a Blonde British Chick who I coincidentally am in love with*, and Halle Berry as the most depressingly bad Bond girl ever. I mean, I thought she phoned in her performance as Catwoman, but this actually manages to be less believable - she actually makes Denise Richards' role as a nuclear physicist in The World Is Not Enough look good. Come to think of it, what the hell even happened in world is not enough? Every time I think about it all I recall is that denise richards really sucked, and then I get distracted and wonder why she didn't get killed off in Starship Troopers, because we all know that would've been the highlight of the film.
But I digress. Watching this movie really makes me wonder how Halle Berry won an oscar. She was bad enough that the other characters almost seemed to be actively avoiding her. Even in the obligatory sex scenes Bond just seemed bored by her. Actually, the presumed indifference to her character is one of the highlights: in perhaps my favorite exchange, Mr Bond and Mr Villain are having a chat about whatever diabolical plot double O is trying to stop, and she comes in with some random sassy comment leading both of the men to look at each other, confused, and then simultaneously give her the "shut up, woman, your betters are talking" glare before continuing on like nothing had happened. It's that special type of misogyny that only James Bond could pull off; reminiscent of the classic Sean Connery "run along now, man talk" ass-slap. Of course then Mr Villain spouted some bullshit line about global warming that was both social commentary and a pun, ruining the entire moment.
Oh, and big points for the Asian masseuse who calls herself Peaceful Fountains of Desire. If not for the double entendres and shit blowing up why watch a Bond film? Also, the final scene is OO7 and Halle in some bungalow doing it while rolling around in a gigantic pile of diamonds. Am I the only one who thinks that would be absurdly painful? Diamonds aren't exactly known for being soft and cuddly, afterall.
Sidenote: Don't watch Primeval. While it might sound cool, supposedly being about a giant crocodile named Gustave who terrorizes and murders in the waters of Burundi, it isn't. Gustave is hardly in the fucking film; it's actually more about a bunch of reporters trying to find Gustave while running around in war-ravaged Africa. They actually blame Gustave's existence on African genocides. Congratulations, Hollywood, you've managed to transform legitimate and gruesome global issues into fodder for bullshit b-movies.
*Blonde British Chick is also in Fracture, a rather good criminal trial thriller staring Sir Anthony Hopkins and his gun shooting his wife in the face, and then getting away with it. And Blonde British Chick has Thanksgiving dinner with her family and is a lawyer and reminds me of my favorite ADA Serena Sutherland (I blame Fred Thompson - and not his character Arthur Branch - personally for her not still being on Law&Order. That asshole.) and while watching it for the second time in my life I found myself utterly and completely hating Ryan Gosling.
You're likely wondering how this film could be bad, with such great attributes, but such is the wonder of this movie. "Unbelievable" doesn't quite do it justice. "Stupidly shallow while also confusingly complex" is a more apt description. The main Villain is an Oxford educated North Korean Colonel who is selling African conflict diamonds to fund his gigantic satellite laser thingie so he can wipe out the mine field at the 38th parallel and invade South Korea. Oh, and he had gene therapy to change himself into some British prat who manages to go from absolute obscurity to Knight of the Realm in less than a year and really likes extreme sports. Somehow Bond is involved, as is a Blonde British Chick who I coincidentally am in love with*, and Halle Berry as the most depressingly bad Bond girl ever. I mean, I thought she phoned in her performance as Catwoman, but this actually manages to be less believable - she actually makes Denise Richards' role as a nuclear physicist in The World Is Not Enough look good. Come to think of it, what the hell even happened in world is not enough? Every time I think about it all I recall is that denise richards really sucked, and then I get distracted and wonder why she didn't get killed off in Starship Troopers, because we all know that would've been the highlight of the film.
But I digress. Watching this movie really makes me wonder how Halle Berry won an oscar. She was bad enough that the other characters almost seemed to be actively avoiding her. Even in the obligatory sex scenes Bond just seemed bored by her. Actually, the presumed indifference to her character is one of the highlights: in perhaps my favorite exchange, Mr Bond and Mr Villain are having a chat about whatever diabolical plot double O is trying to stop, and she comes in with some random sassy comment leading both of the men to look at each other, confused, and then simultaneously give her the "shut up, woman, your betters are talking" glare before continuing on like nothing had happened. It's that special type of misogyny that only James Bond could pull off; reminiscent of the classic Sean Connery "run along now, man talk" ass-slap. Of course then Mr Villain spouted some bullshit line about global warming that was both social commentary and a pun, ruining the entire moment.
Oh, and big points for the Asian masseuse who calls herself Peaceful Fountains of Desire. If not for the double entendres and shit blowing up why watch a Bond film? Also, the final scene is OO7 and Halle in some bungalow doing it while rolling around in a gigantic pile of diamonds. Am I the only one who thinks that would be absurdly painful? Diamonds aren't exactly known for being soft and cuddly, afterall.
Sidenote: Don't watch Primeval. While it might sound cool, supposedly being about a giant crocodile named Gustave who terrorizes and murders in the waters of Burundi, it isn't. Gustave is hardly in the fucking film; it's actually more about a bunch of reporters trying to find Gustave while running around in war-ravaged Africa. They actually blame Gustave's existence on African genocides. Congratulations, Hollywood, you've managed to transform legitimate and gruesome global issues into fodder for bullshit b-movies.
*Blonde British Chick is also in Fracture, a rather good criminal trial thriller staring Sir Anthony Hopkins and his gun shooting his wife in the face, and then getting away with it. And Blonde British Chick has Thanksgiving dinner with her family and is a lawyer and reminds me of my favorite ADA Serena Sutherland (I blame Fred Thompson - and not his character Arthur Branch - personally for her not still being on Law&Order. That asshole.) and while watching it for the second time in my life I found myself utterly and completely hating Ryan Gosling.
NEMESIS!
So I guess I'm just a fan of redundancy, but I have two alarm clocks - one being an actual, honest-to-god clock and the other being my not so clock-ish cell phone. The theory here being that ignoring two loud, blaring claxons every morning is much harder than just ignoring one. As I said, redundancy. On occasion this scheme certainly goes awry and I spend long, excruciating minutes pounding dumbly on my alarm clock; pleading with it, wondering why God the stupid machine won't do what I say and shut off. And then sometimes I fall awkwardly out of my bed, hit my head on the nightstand, and notice my bastard phone laying next to me, beeping inordinately loud in a mocking tone. This was a fun morning.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Infomercial-tastic
SO maybe it’s the OCD talking, or the repressively stuffy air in my room (the circulation here sucks) messing with my reasoning abilities, but Russ Dalbey’s “Winning in the Cash Flow Business” seems like the most sound investment ever. It’s essentially a license to print money…and not at all a pyramid scheme. I’m bound to reap plentiful rewards only spending 15 minutes a day on my computer. Seeing as I spend much more than 15 minutes on my computer on any given day, I don’t see it unreasonable to expect to be a millionaire around the middle of next week. If only this shit had Ron Popeil hosting it’d likely be a guaranteed buy from me. At least then I could count on some nifty steak knives to accompany my millions.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
I'm back, or something
SO I guess boredom and an irksome jealously looking at everyone in the freakin' worlds blog has led to me throwing my not-so proverbial hat into this digital realm once again. Time for me to pretend to be a writer and all that - but it can wait. I'm going to start by taking a page out of Nolan's book and just posting videos while yelling "buy their record! LULZ!"
This is Cobra Starship. They have a new cd coming out this week, and are generally awesome. If this video isn't proof enough of how great they are (I mean christ, it has patty stump in a bunny suit!) than I have no hope for you.
This is Cobra Starship. They have a new cd coming out this week, and are generally awesome. If this video isn't proof enough of how great they are (I mean christ, it has patty stump in a bunny suit!) than I have no hope for you.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)