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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.