13/08: In defiance of genre
Just saw Guy X….
Much liked. But then, I’ve always had this thing about stuff that just doesn’t feel like being any particular genre all the way through. Honestly, I can read or hear a critic or viewer whining about that about a work, how it just can’t be that one thing, how this apparently made things so terribly confusing for them, and I say aloud ‘dumbass’, and then go off to watch it with great expectations…
‘Course, it had an in. Got this thing about drama in the arctic, too. Always gets me right there.
Come to think of it, my life has fit no particular genre, so far, either. Nor will it do so merely to make things easy on the reviewers.
(/Well, okay, as to that life, some parts, mebbe farce. Or, at least the second time for each bit, anyway.)
Much liked. But then, I’ve always had this thing about stuff that just doesn’t feel like being any particular genre all the way through. Honestly, I can read or hear a critic or viewer whining about that about a work, how it just can’t be that one thing, how this apparently made things so terribly confusing for them, and I say aloud ‘dumbass’, and then go off to watch it with great expectations…
‘Course, it had an in. Got this thing about drama in the arctic, too. Always gets me right there.
Come to think of it, my life has fit no particular genre, so far, either. Nor will it do so merely to make things easy on the reviewers.
(/Well, okay, as to that life, some parts, mebbe farce. Or, at least the second time for each bit, anyway.)
If you haven’t already seen the 2009 film Moon, do, absolutely.
Yeah, I finally caught up to it. And now can say: Moon is everything filmed science fiction too rarely seems to be of late. Which is to say: thoughtful, elegantly paced, understated, and incredibly powerful.
Oh, right… and also: insanely gorgeous. It’s one of these rare films that has such qualities you could probably see it on a thirty-year old 12 inch portable black and white cathode ray tube set and it would still make one hell of an impression, but the landscapes in the thing—the bleak, forbidding, remote face of the far side of the moon—generally seen here with no sun in the sky—are also a thing to behold. Beyond being a perfect complement to the story. It is highly recommended if you do see this thing, you find something with some pixels on it to do the job of rendering those.
That’s all. The IMDB page linked above has a bit more. Watch out for spoilers—none I saw there, and they generally label those, but I’d suggest you do want to see this thing without reading too much first, if you haven’t already. It is built like a suspense—so I’d suggest you do want to go through certain revelations as does the protagonist, at least once, if you can arrange this; let it come upon you as it does Sam Rockwell’s Sam Bell.
Yeah, I finally caught up to it. And now can say: Moon is everything filmed science fiction too rarely seems to be of late. Which is to say: thoughtful, elegantly paced, understated, and incredibly powerful.
Oh, right… and also: insanely gorgeous. It’s one of these rare films that has such qualities you could probably see it on a thirty-year old 12 inch portable black and white cathode ray tube set and it would still make one hell of an impression, but the landscapes in the thing—the bleak, forbidding, remote face of the far side of the moon—generally seen here with no sun in the sky—are also a thing to behold. Beyond being a perfect complement to the story. It is highly recommended if you do see this thing, you find something with some pixels on it to do the job of rendering those.
That’s all. The IMDB page linked above has a bit more. Watch out for spoilers—none I saw there, and they generally label those, but I’d suggest you do want to see this thing without reading too much first, if you haven’t already. It is built like a suspense—so I’d suggest you do want to go through certain revelations as does the protagonist, at least once, if you can arrange this; let it come upon you as it does Sam Rockwell’s Sam Bell.
01/10: We're here, we're godless
… and for the most part, no one much gives a rat’s ass.
Tipping you to Eamon today…
Because it’s a true thing, and it’s a good thing. The wanks who really make an issue are increasingly in the minority… here, at least, and watching from here, anyway. And yes, we do have to keep making them squirm, at least. But let’s not overstate their importance, now, either…
(/And yes, the fewer the better, really… But me, I see that as a work in progress.)
Tipping you to Eamon today…
Because it’s a true thing, and it’s a good thing. The wanks who really make an issue are increasingly in the minority… here, at least, and watching from here, anyway. And yes, we do have to keep making them squirm, at least. But let’s not overstate their importance, now, either…
(/And yes, the fewer the better, really… But me, I see that as a work in progress.)
13/05: Recent output
I’m not so much doing stuff in this form anymore. Honestly, it’s partly not trying much, partly that when I do try, things just aren’t lighting up.
That said, I thought this one (PDF) came out basically okay.
That said, I thought this one (PDF) came out basically okay.
15/04: Elsewhere on the web
Ms. Messinger is setting up a new site. Bits of fiction attached. Do check ‘em out, if that’s yer thing…
(Yes, this will go in sidebar, any moment now… But my week, she just became slightly nuts again. So this is it for now.)
(Yes, this will go in sidebar, any moment now… But my week, she just became slightly nuts again. So this is it for now.)
11/02: Whedon interview
Up today on Salon. Nothing really earth-shattering. Says he loves BSG—but then, let’s face it, we all do*.
And no, I haven’t seen any of his new series yet. I’m a bad fanboy.
And no, I haven’t seen any of his new series yet. I’m a bad fanboy.
*For varying values of ‘love’… okay, here’s the thing, yes, I do, but I think the fundamental problem is: when they’re great, they’re really, really great, and when they’re less so, I find myself getting all whiny about it. I think this is probably what it’s like to be spoiled. Like that bit where they started getting all Danikenesque/really, the signs ‘n gods are real/oh, look at the ancient temple, and I got to thinking hey, this is sorta like Relic Hunter, sans the cheesy charm (no, not at all fair, but like I said: spoiled)… But then, I heard Jamie Bamber muttering under his breath over more or less the same thing on CBC’s Q a little while ago, too, so I guess it’s allowed… Other funny thing: I still haven’t watched a single one of last-half-of-season-four episodes. Got ‘em all in various stages of saved for a rainy day, between the PVR and my PSP, but haven’t had a chance… Savin’ ‘em for when I can actually sit still and really watch, tho’.
My dreams have been becoming alarmingly coherent, of late.
You know how it’s supposed to be with dreams. They make sense… sorta… but it’s ‘dream logic’. You couldn’t exactly lift ‘em up as they are and turn ‘em into a feature film and expect the plot to come out especially linear. Movie would come out Lynchean, at best, as in David. Dreams, they’re supposed to be weird. Or that was my understanding.
Lately, mine haven’t been.
It’s been a few years, actually, this has been going on. I’ll wake up from one of these unsettling things and realize the whole damned thing made perfect sense. The weird part—the scary part, actually—is sometimes the characters in ‘em even seem to have frighteningly consistent and believable internal lives and motives of their own, and since I’m in a POV in the damned dream, just like real life, you don’t always know what they’re up to. And, unlike real life (or mine, anyway), sometimes it’s a murder mystery. It goes from being a whodunnit to becoming a ‘whodunnit… and am I next?’. Unpleasant.
This morning, I woke up from this weirdly Fireflyish thing (I said they were alarmingly coherent… I didn’t say they were especially original). I’m on this tramp freighter thing somewhere, small crew, we all know each other, there’s romantic entanglements and rivalries and all this going on. We get in a minor altercation with some particularly unsavoury rival. Get away, but take damage that means we’re not getting far, and we’re looking for somewhere to land. Figure out the only place we’ve got that’s habitable barely is, and odds are, the nasties are gonna catch up to us soon after we touch down. So the order of the day is: put together a pack, grab yer rifle, get ready to hoof it far from the landing site, see if we can hide or defend ourselves, maybe drive ‘em off, survive until rescue arrives. But it’s looking grim, no one likes the odds…
Then we’re touching down and it turns out everything we thought we knew about the place is wrong. It’s settled, very habitable, looks positively gentrified. But this just puts everyone even more on edge. Who are these nice people who show up at the hatch, say ‘Hey, yeah, no problem, c’mon up to the house, we’ll patch you up, it’s all good…’? Much suspicion abounds…
And then I woke up.
Dammit, I hate that.
Anyway. Is anyone else out there having dreams with alarmingly coherent narrative arcs? Or should I find myself a specialist who can do a Whedonectomy?
You know how it’s supposed to be with dreams. They make sense… sorta… but it’s ‘dream logic’. You couldn’t exactly lift ‘em up as they are and turn ‘em into a feature film and expect the plot to come out especially linear. Movie would come out Lynchean, at best, as in David. Dreams, they’re supposed to be weird. Or that was my understanding.
Lately, mine haven’t been.
It’s been a few years, actually, this has been going on. I’ll wake up from one of these unsettling things and realize the whole damned thing made perfect sense. The weird part—the scary part, actually—is sometimes the characters in ‘em even seem to have frighteningly consistent and believable internal lives and motives of their own, and since I’m in a POV in the damned dream, just like real life, you don’t always know what they’re up to. And, unlike real life (or mine, anyway), sometimes it’s a murder mystery. It goes from being a whodunnit to becoming a ‘whodunnit… and am I next?’. Unpleasant.
This morning, I woke up from this weirdly Fireflyish thing (I said they were alarmingly coherent… I didn’t say they were especially original). I’m on this tramp freighter thing somewhere, small crew, we all know each other, there’s romantic entanglements and rivalries and all this going on. We get in a minor altercation with some particularly unsavoury rival. Get away, but take damage that means we’re not getting far, and we’re looking for somewhere to land. Figure out the only place we’ve got that’s habitable barely is, and odds are, the nasties are gonna catch up to us soon after we touch down. So the order of the day is: put together a pack, grab yer rifle, get ready to hoof it far from the landing site, see if we can hide or defend ourselves, maybe drive ‘em off, survive until rescue arrives. But it’s looking grim, no one likes the odds…
Then we’re touching down and it turns out everything we thought we knew about the place is wrong. It’s settled, very habitable, looks positively gentrified. But this just puts everyone even more on edge. Who are these nice people who show up at the hatch, say ‘Hey, yeah, no problem, c’mon up to the house, we’ll patch you up, it’s all good…’? Much suspicion abounds…
And then I woke up.
Dammit, I hate that.
Anyway. Is anyone else out there having dreams with alarmingly coherent narrative arcs? Or should I find myself a specialist who can do a Whedonectomy?
17/06: Ah! Kill it, lion Jesus!
Actually, all of these strike me as reasonably competent summaries.
29/04: Sir? You there on fire...
08/04: No PR is bad PR?
Well, then again…
The Stop Uwe Boll petition (mentioned yestereve) is now getting mainstream press coverage.
Seems 100,000 signatures* counts fer somethin’.
The Stop Uwe Boll petition (mentioned yestereve) is now getting mainstream press coverage.
Seems 100,000 signatures* counts fer somethin’.
*Yes, online petitions are notoriously easily spammed, so sure, that’s probably not quite the real number of aggravated fans who’ve gotten ‘round to signing. Still, if it’s half of that (which it probably is, at least), damn.
