So, today, I watched an episode of The Simpsons from last year. I missed most of last season, but the ones I did catch weren't that great. However, this one, oh my God. Hilarious. Some co-eds move into the Flanders house and set up a web-cam operation. Just awesome.
The best line has to be Bart cutting off some guy's pony tail and later playing with it, going, "Ooo, look at me, I'm a graduate student. I'm smart. I'm thirty and I can't find a job," to which Marge replies, "Bart, don't make fun of graduate students. They just made a terrible life choice." Just precious.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Sunday, November 20, 2005
While my Funny Bone Gently Weeps
So, I've got to say that the not-quite cancellation of Arrested Development has seriously bummed me out. No more thinking-man's humor, just more drudgery from the likes of Charlie Sheen and Michael Rapaport. I will admit that, oddly enough, when I watch Charlie Sheen's show, I don't feel dirty afterward, just dumber. I cannot say the same for Mr. Rapaport's shitfest, The War at Home. The show is just trash. Subjects covered in it thus far have included the parents' occasional marijuana use, oral sex, and the fifteen-year-old daughter wanting breast implants. It is The Jerry Springer Show in sitcom form. Well, maybe there are less fights, I don't know.
So, last night, I was at Wal-Mart at about 1:30 AM and tried to find something, anything really, good out on DVD. All the movies were crap. Most of the TV box sets were too expensive. Then I found Frasier's 7th season for $30. I already have season 1 and 2 and really enjoyed them, so I didn't even look to see what the main arc of season 7 was. I just bought it and went home. It turns out it's the season where Daphne and Niles finally get together in the end, after she ducks out of her wedding and runs off with Niles. Thinking back, it's probably the best season of the show. I'm really glad I got it.
As I was watching it, though, it struck me just how funny the show was to me on an intellectual level. It wasn't sight gags or low-brow humor, but it was really smart at times. Jokes that I didn't get 5 years ago now make perfect sense because of how much I've learned over those years. The show is damn funny. Sure, it has a laugh-track, which is currently the bane of my existence, but I can get past that. There was a joke that cracked me up just a few minutes ago (yes, I'm watching this at work). Frasier, Niles, and Martin, the dad, are in the Winnebago and Niles wants to drive. Martin says, "Son, you don't handle big cars very well. I remember when I tried to teach you to drive my Le Sabre, you kept pulling the emergency brake." Niles deftly responds, "Well, that's because those mailboxes weren't slowing my down at all." God. The final season of the show may have been a bit much, but I still think that Frasier was one of the better shows that has graced the television screen.
So, last night, I was at Wal-Mart at about 1:30 AM and tried to find something, anything really, good out on DVD. All the movies were crap. Most of the TV box sets were too expensive. Then I found Frasier's 7th season for $30. I already have season 1 and 2 and really enjoyed them, so I didn't even look to see what the main arc of season 7 was. I just bought it and went home. It turns out it's the season where Daphne and Niles finally get together in the end, after she ducks out of her wedding and runs off with Niles. Thinking back, it's probably the best season of the show. I'm really glad I got it.
As I was watching it, though, it struck me just how funny the show was to me on an intellectual level. It wasn't sight gags or low-brow humor, but it was really smart at times. Jokes that I didn't get 5 years ago now make perfect sense because of how much I've learned over those years. The show is damn funny. Sure, it has a laugh-track, which is currently the bane of my existence, but I can get past that. There was a joke that cracked me up just a few minutes ago (yes, I'm watching this at work). Frasier, Niles, and Martin, the dad, are in the Winnebago and Niles wants to drive. Martin says, "Son, you don't handle big cars very well. I remember when I tried to teach you to drive my Le Sabre, you kept pulling the emergency brake." Niles deftly responds, "Well, that's because those mailboxes weren't slowing my down at all." God. The final season of the show may have been a bit much, but I still think that Frasier was one of the better shows that has graced the television screen.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
If one more person comes up to my desk asking for "help," I swear I'm gonna...
Stupid library patrons.
So, I'm sitting here, wasting time that should be used for some of the multiple projects coming up, and I'm doing nothing. I looked up a lot of wikipedia articles that did nothing but rot my brain, and now I'm watching Episode III. Ah, capitalism and its wonderful incentives to do work. Pshah (trying a little onomatopeia there).
You know, I wanted to strangle myself during the scene with Anakin and Padme on the veranda or whatever. God, horrible dialogue. Portman looks horrible in the shot, with this emaciated, sunken eyes, "on the verge of death" look like someone who experienced the Holocaust for about a month. I really don't get why she looks so god-awful in that scene. And then Anakin says something along the lines of "You're so beautiful" and I almost shouted (in the middle of the library, mind you),"No, you fucking moron, she doesn't. I've seen shots where she looked beautiful. This, you dumbass, isn't one of them." I mean, seriously, Lucas, you'll digitally fuck with every other fucking thing in the movie, why not give her some complexion in this one damn scene. If you're going to say how beautiful someone looks and not have it be a pity compliment (like saying to a burn victim, "No, you're still beautiful, honey"), at least make me understand it. Of course, the scene also has this line, "So, love has made you blind?" which I suppose makes her look make some sense if you want to stretch like a poodle across a couch, but that ain't how it's meant to be.
I guess I'll do a running commentary like I did with War at Home.
So, I really liked Ewan McGregor in this one. See, in the other two, he wasn't Ben Kenobi. He was a shade of Old Ben, but he wasn't there yet. I'm not sure if he slowly adjust to be more like the Ben of the original trilogy or if the writing changed for the character each time. I understand the idea behind having a young Obi-Wan who was by-the-book and very strict in his ideals and then have him change over time to be a more adaptive and resilient Jedi, but it just didn't really work for me. It wasn't until this one where he really seems to be a younger version of the Obi-Wan we see in the original trilogy. There's a balance of humor and serenity, of friend and mentor, of duty and drive. That's the Ben I see in the original movies, that's the Ben I see in Episode III. Rock on, Ewan.
"This war represents a failure to listen." There's something about that line that works in the current contexts of our world, but I'm not really sure how it works in the Star Wars universe, or at least with the Clone Wars. It wasn't a failure to listen that led to the wars, it was (at least on the surface, Sith influence not withstanding) a corrupt bureaucracy that was bogged down in tradition and petty squables that led to the vast majority of systems leaving the Republic. Ultimately, I think it's that line that really, for me, drives home Lucas' attempt to make a statement with the film.
"Good is a point of view, Anakin." Man, how true is that line. See, that's why Palpatine steals the film. He gets all the best lines and spouts a philosophy that one can almost understand why Anakin falls for it. True, it's portrayed as evil from the film's point of view, but it's all relative.
"I know [the Jedi] don't trust you." "Or the Senate, or the Republic, or democracy for that matter." Look, let's cover a few things. First, as I have preached so many damn times, a republic is not a democracy. There might be democratic elements to a republic, but for a republic to exist, true democracy does not. Second, why the hell should the Jedi trust Palps? His term had expired, he's trying to manipulate the Jedi Council by putting Anakin on it, and he won't say that he'll give up his post once the war is finished. To me, that's not a leader that should be trusted. Plus, dude's so friggin' evil, man. Come on!
I've got to say, I read the novelization of this and it was absolutely awesome. I generally dislike novelizations of anything, but the one for Episode III had a cool style and system behind it, analyzing the characters in a really cool way. One of the things that it did was explain why Anakin was so pissed off about not being made a Jedi Master. The Jedi Temple had a bunch of texts that were only accessible to Masters, and some of those texts dealt with prolonging life and bringing people back from death. So, with those texts, Anakin might have been able to save Padme without Palp's help (bunch of good that did him, anyway). At least that concept made it seem more like Anakin actually gave a damn about someone else and not just himself.
"There's no war here, unless you brought it with you." I really like that line. There's this inner war idea that it invokes, that war exists only in the hearts of those whose wage it and that is how war gets transmitted, through contact with those not involved in it, almost like a virus. There's also this sense that war follows you wherever you go. You can see this sense in some veterans, that the war will constantly follow them, no matter where they go.
"Hello there." See, that's something I can totally see old Ben Kenobi doing, analyzing a situation, dropping right in the middle of it, and just totally kicking ass. When I first watched this scene, it was out of context. The video game had the part where he looks down and just drops into the middle of all these droids and says, "Hello there," then instantly pulls out his saber and it switches over to gameplay. To me, it seemed like Ben was just being stupid. Now, I completely understand what he was going for.
"Oh, I don't think so!" There's just this closeup shot of Grievous and Ben's eyes that's totally awesome. The CG of Grievous' face, complete with alien skin and eyes and cracks and scratches in the mask, is really well done. It really lends an intimate feel to the battle between the two characters, too.
"I get the feeling that I'm being excluded from the Council." Gee, you dumbass, could it be that you're not supposed to be on it anyway? It's like gays in scouts. If you force a gay child or leader to be part of a troop, the others are going to exclude them because they're being forced upon them without true acceptance.
There's this moment where Ben kicks Grievous and then yells out in pain, because, well, he's kicking solid metal. As stupid as it seems, it's a totally human moment. When humans are desperate to defend themselves, they'll hit, kick, scratch, do whatever they can. So, to me, Ben's kick, while stupid, is a real human moment for the character, which is something that's often criticized about these films.
Oh, God, it's the horrible scene where Anakin and Padme look at each other while they're several miles apart. Talk about a scene that just drags and adds nothing. We know that Anakin's going to turn because of her, we really don't need this scene. Look, I started typing this paragraph about fifteen seconds into the scene and it's still going on. God, so long.
Finally, cool shit with a bad motherfucker taking on just an evil motherfucker.
I get this sense that Palpatine is really digging the fight, just enjoying the hell out of it. Think about it, he's been this politician in public for roughly twenty years, when's the last chance he's had to kill some Jedi?
"The treason of the Sith will never return." When Mace says this line, we're just supposed to buy it, and I can because I know about "the treason of the Sith" from thousands of years before the movies begin. But what about the fans who haven't a clue? The background of the Sith isn't set up that well in these movies, causing the whole arc concerning the Sith to be somewhat confusing.
"A powerful Sith you will become." Why does Palpy have a Yoda line? Hmmm... Never caught that before.
Gotta tell you, those yellow, glowing eyes on Palpy freak me the fuck out. They freaked me out in Return when I was five, they freak me out now that I'm in my twenties.
"Commander Cody, the time has come." So, you're telling me that the leader of the Republic/Empire has the time to learn the names of every clone commander of every army on every planet, and then to contact them individually. Shouldn't it have just been a broad order to every clone? Palpy's got some serious free time on his hands.
Well, that's it for now. I'm going off to lunch, and then I'll enjoy the live episode of West Wing. God, I hope Alda totally forgets his lines and says something extremely dumb, like the Social Security can be saved. Somebody's gotta slip up or else it just won't be any fun.
So, I'm sitting here, wasting time that should be used for some of the multiple projects coming up, and I'm doing nothing. I looked up a lot of wikipedia articles that did nothing but rot my brain, and now I'm watching Episode III. Ah, capitalism and its wonderful incentives to do work. Pshah (trying a little onomatopeia there).
You know, I wanted to strangle myself during the scene with Anakin and Padme on the veranda or whatever. God, horrible dialogue. Portman looks horrible in the shot, with this emaciated, sunken eyes, "on the verge of death" look like someone who experienced the Holocaust for about a month. I really don't get why she looks so god-awful in that scene. And then Anakin says something along the lines of "You're so beautiful" and I almost shouted (in the middle of the library, mind you),"No, you fucking moron, she doesn't. I've seen shots where she looked beautiful. This, you dumbass, isn't one of them." I mean, seriously, Lucas, you'll digitally fuck with every other fucking thing in the movie, why not give her some complexion in this one damn scene. If you're going to say how beautiful someone looks and not have it be a pity compliment (like saying to a burn victim, "No, you're still beautiful, honey"), at least make me understand it. Of course, the scene also has this line, "So, love has made you blind?" which I suppose makes her look make some sense if you want to stretch like a poodle across a couch, but that ain't how it's meant to be.
I guess I'll do a running commentary like I did with War at Home.
So, I really liked Ewan McGregor in this one. See, in the other two, he wasn't Ben Kenobi. He was a shade of Old Ben, but he wasn't there yet. I'm not sure if he slowly adjust to be more like the Ben of the original trilogy or if the writing changed for the character each time. I understand the idea behind having a young Obi-Wan who was by-the-book and very strict in his ideals and then have him change over time to be a more adaptive and resilient Jedi, but it just didn't really work for me. It wasn't until this one where he really seems to be a younger version of the Obi-Wan we see in the original trilogy. There's a balance of humor and serenity, of friend and mentor, of duty and drive. That's the Ben I see in the original movies, that's the Ben I see in Episode III. Rock on, Ewan.
"This war represents a failure to listen." There's something about that line that works in the current contexts of our world, but I'm not really sure how it works in the Star Wars universe, or at least with the Clone Wars. It wasn't a failure to listen that led to the wars, it was (at least on the surface, Sith influence not withstanding) a corrupt bureaucracy that was bogged down in tradition and petty squables that led to the vast majority of systems leaving the Republic. Ultimately, I think it's that line that really, for me, drives home Lucas' attempt to make a statement with the film.
"Good is a point of view, Anakin." Man, how true is that line. See, that's why Palpatine steals the film. He gets all the best lines and spouts a philosophy that one can almost understand why Anakin falls for it. True, it's portrayed as evil from the film's point of view, but it's all relative.
"I know [the Jedi] don't trust you." "Or the Senate, or the Republic, or democracy for that matter." Look, let's cover a few things. First, as I have preached so many damn times, a republic is not a democracy. There might be democratic elements to a republic, but for a republic to exist, true democracy does not. Second, why the hell should the Jedi trust Palps? His term had expired, he's trying to manipulate the Jedi Council by putting Anakin on it, and he won't say that he'll give up his post once the war is finished. To me, that's not a leader that should be trusted. Plus, dude's so friggin' evil, man. Come on!
I've got to say, I read the novelization of this and it was absolutely awesome. I generally dislike novelizations of anything, but the one for Episode III had a cool style and system behind it, analyzing the characters in a really cool way. One of the things that it did was explain why Anakin was so pissed off about not being made a Jedi Master. The Jedi Temple had a bunch of texts that were only accessible to Masters, and some of those texts dealt with prolonging life and bringing people back from death. So, with those texts, Anakin might have been able to save Padme without Palp's help (bunch of good that did him, anyway). At least that concept made it seem more like Anakin actually gave a damn about someone else and not just himself.
"There's no war here, unless you brought it with you." I really like that line. There's this inner war idea that it invokes, that war exists only in the hearts of those whose wage it and that is how war gets transmitted, through contact with those not involved in it, almost like a virus. There's also this sense that war follows you wherever you go. You can see this sense in some veterans, that the war will constantly follow them, no matter where they go.
"Hello there." See, that's something I can totally see old Ben Kenobi doing, analyzing a situation, dropping right in the middle of it, and just totally kicking ass. When I first watched this scene, it was out of context. The video game had the part where he looks down and just drops into the middle of all these droids and says, "Hello there," then instantly pulls out his saber and it switches over to gameplay. To me, it seemed like Ben was just being stupid. Now, I completely understand what he was going for.
"Oh, I don't think so!" There's just this closeup shot of Grievous and Ben's eyes that's totally awesome. The CG of Grievous' face, complete with alien skin and eyes and cracks and scratches in the mask, is really well done. It really lends an intimate feel to the battle between the two characters, too.
"I get the feeling that I'm being excluded from the Council." Gee, you dumbass, could it be that you're not supposed to be on it anyway? It's like gays in scouts. If you force a gay child or leader to be part of a troop, the others are going to exclude them because they're being forced upon them without true acceptance.
There's this moment where Ben kicks Grievous and then yells out in pain, because, well, he's kicking solid metal. As stupid as it seems, it's a totally human moment. When humans are desperate to defend themselves, they'll hit, kick, scratch, do whatever they can. So, to me, Ben's kick, while stupid, is a real human moment for the character, which is something that's often criticized about these films.
Oh, God, it's the horrible scene where Anakin and Padme look at each other while they're several miles apart. Talk about a scene that just drags and adds nothing. We know that Anakin's going to turn because of her, we really don't need this scene. Look, I started typing this paragraph about fifteen seconds into the scene and it's still going on. God, so long.
Finally, cool shit with a bad motherfucker taking on just an evil motherfucker.
I get this sense that Palpatine is really digging the fight, just enjoying the hell out of it. Think about it, he's been this politician in public for roughly twenty years, when's the last chance he's had to kill some Jedi?
"The treason of the Sith will never return." When Mace says this line, we're just supposed to buy it, and I can because I know about "the treason of the Sith" from thousands of years before the movies begin. But what about the fans who haven't a clue? The background of the Sith isn't set up that well in these movies, causing the whole arc concerning the Sith to be somewhat confusing.
"A powerful Sith you will become." Why does Palpy have a Yoda line? Hmmm... Never caught that before.
Gotta tell you, those yellow, glowing eyes on Palpy freak me the fuck out. They freaked me out in Return when I was five, they freak me out now that I'm in my twenties.
"Commander Cody, the time has come." So, you're telling me that the leader of the Republic/Empire has the time to learn the names of every clone commander of every army on every planet, and then to contact them individually. Shouldn't it have just been a broad order to every clone? Palpy's got some serious free time on his hands.
Well, that's it for now. I'm going off to lunch, and then I'll enjoy the live episode of West Wing. God, I hope Alda totally forgets his lines and says something extremely dumb, like the Social Security can be saved. Somebody's gotta slip up or else it just won't be any fun.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Another worthless Friday...Yay!
So, I was supposed to go to the racetrack today with friends, but it got cancelled due to a lot of people dropping out and the fact that I felt like shit when I got up today.
So, with no real plans, I decided to do what I do best: sit around and waste time. I had some errands to run, which basically consisted of returning a rented DVD to one place, picking up some new movies to watch, getting a bunch of Cokes (5 for $5 at Kroger, whoo!), and um, seems like there was something else, but it doesn't really matter. So, at the cheap rental place, I decided to pick up a lot of films I'd either heard were good or had seen chunks of and wanted to see more, as well as one that caught my attention at the store. I picked up the original Longest Yard, Comic Book Villains, The War at Home, How to Kill Your Neighbor's Dog, Playing Mona Lisa, and the first Superman. So far, I've watched The Longest Yard, which was really overrated and not that funny (which says something about the recent remake, since I hear it is almost the same word for word), and Comic Book Villains, which wasn't that great. It was in the Comedy section, and it really belongs in Drama, because it's funny for about five minutes and then it becomes this tense, twisting drama that's not only unfunny, but just mean, like the director/writer wanted to take the viewer into the human soul to show just how caught up we can get in things that should be worthless, that life needs to be interaction in this world and not living vicariously through the actions of superheroes with super-hot girls and awesome powers who save the world month after month, and that it is even more wrong to horde comics for the purpose of selling them to collectors, because that can lead men to do stupid things in the pursuit of money and fame, that in the end it all spirals out of control and the realities of life crash into these men, yet, in the end, evil gets what it deserves and the good guy can come out on top, that the intention behind an action can be the ultimate deciding factor in where the person performing that action ends up, but also that the semi-bad guy, the one whose key moment provides the rising action of the story, can also end up successful for a different reason, that it is possible for good and evil to triumph in their own ways (sorry, I decided at some point to make a Faulkner sentence just to see if I could. It's ain't pretty, that's for sure). So, yeah, not that good. Right now, I'm watching The War at Home, which is a film about a Vietnam vet, played by Emilio Estevez, who returns home and is still kind of disoriented by his experiences in the war. His father is this Southern patriarch who fought in WWII and is played by, of course, Martin Sheen. There's this barrier between the father and son. Oh, god, so far, it's been alright, but it seriously just bought into the cliche of using Buffalo Springfield's "For What It's Worth" in a movie that concerns 'Nam. Bah. Anyway, the barrier between father and son reminds me of this story by Tim O'Brien (whose stories always concern Vietnam and which I'm always moved by for one reason or another). The story was about this kid who returns home from two years in 'Nam and is struggling to reconnect. He's driving around the lake on July 4th, just circling it seven or eight times, taking it slow, trying to work through his issues. His father fought in WWII and never talks about it. The kid, Paul Berlin (who was a standard in O'Brien's stories and is considered his Mary Sue), has no one to talk to about the horrors that occurred there, like when a friend of his started to crawl into a Viet Cong tunnel, got shot in the neck, and the guy's legs just spasmed, the wretched spasm that is somehow so vivid in my skull without having actually seen it myself. The kid's driving around and just imagining that his father is in the truck with him, talking to him about it all. I think this has an impact on me because I see the same issue with my father and grandfather, both of which were in the military, fought in their own wars, but never talk about it, not to each other, not to anyone. I think they try and forget what they saw, but you can look at them and tell that they can't, and bottling it up is hard on them. Anyway, it's kind of funny, because while I wrote that last bit, in the movie, the daughter said to Martin Sheen that someone needs to talk to Emilio about his issues, and the father replied, "That may be, but it's not anybody in this family." Heh. Anyway, so far, except for the cliche, it's not that bad of a film. It's definitely the standard "Vietnam Vet has troubles adjusting" film, but at least I can be sure that it won't turn into a Rambo film with Emilio flipping out and killing dozens of people. The film reminded me of Cadence, which had Martin Sheen as the commander of a military prison and Charlie Sheen as a new prisoner (not playing father and son). I remember liking it when I was younger, but can't remember much about it now. It's now on my list of rentals for next weekend.
Bah, the boys were acting up and I had to go attend to them. Silly mutts. I'll probably be like the dwainker and start posting pictures of them on here soon. The problem is that they don't stay still enough to snap photos of.
Anyway, right now, I've still got about half of War at Home to watch, as well as Supes (which I'm not sure I've ever seen all the way through, and if I have, it's been a while), How to Kill You Neighbor's Dog (I've seen about half of it, and I find Branagh hilarious, so here's hoping), and Playing Mona Lisa (not to be confused with Mona Lisa's Smile, this is about a piano prodigy and her decision whether or not to attend Juliard, I think. I've seen maybe a third of it and liked it, so I figured what the heck). For my next rental cycle, I think I'll get Frailty (the movie with Matt MacConaughey and Bill Paxton, which tries to be suspenseful but which is totally given away by the promotional material, since the poster makes Matt look as evil as possible, yet the story tries to make him out to be a good guy), Liberty Stands Still (yeah, it has Wesley Snipes in it, but it has Oliver Platt in a serious role, which is usually a plus. The premise of the film is kind of like Phone Booth, but it looks to be about ten times better), Beat (about the major beatniks and their lives), Vulgar (it has most of the cast of Clerks in it and is about a run-of-the-mill party clown who saves the day and hits it big. Kind of like Death to Smoochy, but it doesn't look as cheesy, so here's hoping), Red Dawn (an anti-commie film about All-American kids who form a resistance group when Soviets invade their town. It has an interesting smattering of actors who became famous around the time of the film and then pretty much disappeared, including Charlie Sheen, Patrick Swayze, Jennifer Grey, and Lea Thompson), and now Cadence.
Heh, Kathy Bates just had a great line: "War doesn't make you rude to your parents."
I was watching I Love the 80s: 3D earlier, which is VH1's attempt to pull as much money out of a concept as possible. (Oh, my God, Kathy Bates is a total bitch. She's all about that "keeping up appearances" thing that the Brits and the Southerners are into. She's talking to her mother on the phone and then gives the phone to Emilio. He tells her that he's thinking about moving to California and she basically rips the phone away from him, telling her mother that the boy's just kidding. She then covers the receiver on the phone and calls Emilio a "vagrant." Bitch) Anyway, they were talking about mousse on ILt80s and how you were supposed to use it with discretion. Jane Wiedlin of the Go-Gos had this great quote: "You were supposed to use it with discretion, but a lot of us in the 80s didn't have discretion because we were on drugs!"
I've been paying attention to this movie for the most part, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to rewatch it. I think my main problem is that I like it and I haven't a real clue why. It's a cliche movie, yet it seems really good. Of course, in a way, Elizabethtown is a cliche movie that I think is damn good, so I guess anything is possible.
Martin Sheen's character is a lot like Bartlet. He's the kind of patriarch who's trying to keep everything together, giving everyone commands and expecting them to follow them, but it's just not working. In fact, Emilio just told him to "fuck off," which is kind of awesome. The family is completely breaking apart right now and it feels natural, and it's kind of heartbreaking. Yeah, seriously rewatching this at some point soon.
Anyway, that's all for now. I'll probably post another one tomorrow about the other films.
So, with no real plans, I decided to do what I do best: sit around and waste time. I had some errands to run, which basically consisted of returning a rented DVD to one place, picking up some new movies to watch, getting a bunch of Cokes (5 for $5 at Kroger, whoo!), and um, seems like there was something else, but it doesn't really matter. So, at the cheap rental place, I decided to pick up a lot of films I'd either heard were good or had seen chunks of and wanted to see more, as well as one that caught my attention at the store. I picked up the original Longest Yard, Comic Book Villains, The War at Home, How to Kill Your Neighbor's Dog, Playing Mona Lisa, and the first Superman. So far, I've watched The Longest Yard, which was really overrated and not that funny (which says something about the recent remake, since I hear it is almost the same word for word), and Comic Book Villains, which wasn't that great. It was in the Comedy section, and it really belongs in Drama, because it's funny for about five minutes and then it becomes this tense, twisting drama that's not only unfunny, but just mean, like the director/writer wanted to take the viewer into the human soul to show just how caught up we can get in things that should be worthless, that life needs to be interaction in this world and not living vicariously through the actions of superheroes with super-hot girls and awesome powers who save the world month after month, and that it is even more wrong to horde comics for the purpose of selling them to collectors, because that can lead men to do stupid things in the pursuit of money and fame, that in the end it all spirals out of control and the realities of life crash into these men, yet, in the end, evil gets what it deserves and the good guy can come out on top, that the intention behind an action can be the ultimate deciding factor in where the person performing that action ends up, but also that the semi-bad guy, the one whose key moment provides the rising action of the story, can also end up successful for a different reason, that it is possible for good and evil to triumph in their own ways (sorry, I decided at some point to make a Faulkner sentence just to see if I could. It's ain't pretty, that's for sure). So, yeah, not that good. Right now, I'm watching The War at Home, which is a film about a Vietnam vet, played by Emilio Estevez, who returns home and is still kind of disoriented by his experiences in the war. His father is this Southern patriarch who fought in WWII and is played by, of course, Martin Sheen. There's this barrier between the father and son. Oh, god, so far, it's been alright, but it seriously just bought into the cliche of using Buffalo Springfield's "For What It's Worth" in a movie that concerns 'Nam. Bah. Anyway, the barrier between father and son reminds me of this story by Tim O'Brien (whose stories always concern Vietnam and which I'm always moved by for one reason or another). The story was about this kid who returns home from two years in 'Nam and is struggling to reconnect. He's driving around the lake on July 4th, just circling it seven or eight times, taking it slow, trying to work through his issues. His father fought in WWII and never talks about it. The kid, Paul Berlin (who was a standard in O'Brien's stories and is considered his Mary Sue), has no one to talk to about the horrors that occurred there, like when a friend of his started to crawl into a Viet Cong tunnel, got shot in the neck, and the guy's legs just spasmed, the wretched spasm that is somehow so vivid in my skull without having actually seen it myself. The kid's driving around and just imagining that his father is in the truck with him, talking to him about it all. I think this has an impact on me because I see the same issue with my father and grandfather, both of which were in the military, fought in their own wars, but never talk about it, not to each other, not to anyone. I think they try and forget what they saw, but you can look at them and tell that they can't, and bottling it up is hard on them. Anyway, it's kind of funny, because while I wrote that last bit, in the movie, the daughter said to Martin Sheen that someone needs to talk to Emilio about his issues, and the father replied, "That may be, but it's not anybody in this family." Heh. Anyway, so far, except for the cliche, it's not that bad of a film. It's definitely the standard "Vietnam Vet has troubles adjusting" film, but at least I can be sure that it won't turn into a Rambo film with Emilio flipping out and killing dozens of people. The film reminded me of Cadence, which had Martin Sheen as the commander of a military prison and Charlie Sheen as a new prisoner (not playing father and son). I remember liking it when I was younger, but can't remember much about it now. It's now on my list of rentals for next weekend.
Bah, the boys were acting up and I had to go attend to them. Silly mutts. I'll probably be like the dwainker and start posting pictures of them on here soon. The problem is that they don't stay still enough to snap photos of.
Anyway, right now, I've still got about half of War at Home to watch, as well as Supes (which I'm not sure I've ever seen all the way through, and if I have, it's been a while), How to Kill You Neighbor's Dog (I've seen about half of it, and I find Branagh hilarious, so here's hoping), and Playing Mona Lisa (not to be confused with Mona Lisa's Smile, this is about a piano prodigy and her decision whether or not to attend Juliard, I think. I've seen maybe a third of it and liked it, so I figured what the heck). For my next rental cycle, I think I'll get Frailty (the movie with Matt MacConaughey and Bill Paxton, which tries to be suspenseful but which is totally given away by the promotional material, since the poster makes Matt look as evil as possible, yet the story tries to make him out to be a good guy), Liberty Stands Still (yeah, it has Wesley Snipes in it, but it has Oliver Platt in a serious role, which is usually a plus. The premise of the film is kind of like Phone Booth, but it looks to be about ten times better), Beat (about the major beatniks and their lives), Vulgar (it has most of the cast of Clerks in it and is about a run-of-the-mill party clown who saves the day and hits it big. Kind of like Death to Smoochy, but it doesn't look as cheesy, so here's hoping), Red Dawn (an anti-commie film about All-American kids who form a resistance group when Soviets invade their town. It has an interesting smattering of actors who became famous around the time of the film and then pretty much disappeared, including Charlie Sheen, Patrick Swayze, Jennifer Grey, and Lea Thompson), and now Cadence.
Heh, Kathy Bates just had a great line: "War doesn't make you rude to your parents."
I was watching I Love the 80s: 3D earlier, which is VH1's attempt to pull as much money out of a concept as possible. (Oh, my God, Kathy Bates is a total bitch. She's all about that "keeping up appearances" thing that the Brits and the Southerners are into. She's talking to her mother on the phone and then gives the phone to Emilio. He tells her that he's thinking about moving to California and she basically rips the phone away from him, telling her mother that the boy's just kidding. She then covers the receiver on the phone and calls Emilio a "vagrant." Bitch) Anyway, they were talking about mousse on ILt80s and how you were supposed to use it with discretion. Jane Wiedlin of the Go-Gos had this great quote: "You were supposed to use it with discretion, but a lot of us in the 80s didn't have discretion because we were on drugs!"
I've been paying attention to this movie for the most part, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to rewatch it. I think my main problem is that I like it and I haven't a real clue why. It's a cliche movie, yet it seems really good. Of course, in a way, Elizabethtown is a cliche movie that I think is damn good, so I guess anything is possible.
Martin Sheen's character is a lot like Bartlet. He's the kind of patriarch who's trying to keep everything together, giving everyone commands and expecting them to follow them, but it's just not working. In fact, Emilio just told him to "fuck off," which is kind of awesome. The family is completely breaking apart right now and it feels natural, and it's kind of heartbreaking. Yeah, seriously rewatching this at some point soon.
Anyway, that's all for now. I'll probably post another one tomorrow about the other films.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
I fucking hate work
I'd much rather be home playing X-Men Legends for 8 hours straight while listening to our fucking dogs bark constantly than sit here and do the equivalent of absolutely nothing for the same amount of time. I'm about ready to just plain quit. I think I actually lose money by being here. The sadest part is that my time left here isn't even half over. Six Sundays down, the majority of one left today, and eight more to go. Fuck.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Everyone is less mysterious than they think they are
This morning, I saw Elizabethtown. I've been looking forward to this movie for about two years, I guess. See, I love Almost Famous. I loved the original version that Cameron Crowe put out. It was a great film to me. Then I watched Untitled, the director's cut of AF. Most director's cuts add about 10-15 minutes to the film. Untitled was 40 minutes longer than Almost Famous. It was ten times better for me. Almost all of the extra footage added to the plot, the pacing was excellent, the film was a masterpiece. Crowe said that the studio wouldn't let him put out the nearly three-hour version in theaters, but DVD gave him a lot of extra freedom to do what he wanted with the film. The DVD set of Untitled (which was what Crowe originally wanted Almost Famous called, but the studio wouldn't let him do that either) includes both the AF original cut and the director's cut. I tried watching the theatrical version one day and couldn't. The film is so much richer because of those extra 40 minutes.
Anyway, so, I was looking forward to Elizabethtown. I didn't watch Vanilla Sky because the film looked a bit odd, I'm not a huge Tom Cruise fan, and it was based off of a Hispanic film, which meant that the majority of the film really wouldn't be from Crowe's heart and past, which is where AF and Say Anything were from. So, I skipped it. I watched the first trailer and was okay with it. Nothing great, but trailers are often formulaic and don't really get to the heart of the movie. I watched the internet trailer on apple.com and was really moved. I don't know if it was Elton John's song "My Father's Gun" that played over the majority of the trailer (which featured very little dialogue, as the dialogue was mostly muted while the song played, which was kind of odd) or just what I could derive from the scenes from expressions and not dialogue, but it was simply great.
I watched everything that came out about the movie. Trailers, the internet trailer, even the music selection trailer on Apple's site. I devoured it all. I was expecting a really good movie.
So, I went to the first screening today. I went a little late because last time I'd gone to a movie at that time of day on a Friday, the theater had been practically empty (of course, that's when I went to see Serenity, so there you go). The place was packed. I went into the theater and it was almost full. See, I live near Elizabethtown, so a lot of people wanted to see the movie because it's based in a city near where they live (not why I was there). Then I remembered that it's Fall Break time for the kids around here, so a lot of youth groups were there (heh, they said "fuck" twice in the movie and I heard a lot of gasps. I loved that). I found a seat that was a single, next to the handicapped area at the back. That was nice.
Until a manager came in and said that there was a woman there with her handicapped daughter and they wanted to sit together. I was having a nice day and said I'd move. I got up and looked around. I don't like to sit next to strangers in a theater. I'm not wild about sitting next to anyone in the theater unless I'm close to them in some way (really good friend, hot girl, etc.). So, the only seats that worked into that criteria were in the front row. Alright, fine, how bad could it be to sit in the front row?
I basically had to scootch down as far as possible to see the entire screen. Shit. This movie had better be fucking good. Fucking youth groups and fucking old people taking up all the fucking seats. It'd better be fucking good.
It was.
It was so damn good.
It was the best movie I've seen this year. I love Star Wars and really liked Episode 3. This was better. Critics fell all over themselves for Batman Begins and Serenity. I thought they were both mediocre. I liked Wedding Crashers and The 40-Year-Old Virgin. A History of Violence was good. War of the Worlds and Mr. & Mrs. Smith were okay, but forgettable. Sin City was gritty and harsh, but good. Saraha wasn't as bad as I expected, but wasn't all that good.
But Elizabethtown was abso-fucking-lutely great. It easily was better than all of those movies from the past 10 months. I can't even recall a movie from 2004 that was that good.
I hate Orlando Bloom. He was really good in this, even great at times.
I used to dislike Kirsten Dunst. Something changed that about 6 months ago and I can't put my finger on it why. In this, she was really good (the Southern accent that they tried to work in for her was the only nitpick I had, and I'm not sure if it grated on me for a specific reason or if it was just that I'm used to her normal accent that she uses in every other movie I've seen her in).
The soundtrack was great and I'm thinking about heading to Wal-Mart to buy it right now. In fact, I think I will. Meh, probably not. I don't know.
I was worried it would be Garden State all over again. It's not. It's better than Garden State, and I really liked Garden State.
It made me realize things about myself that scare the hell out of me. I'm not ready for my father to die. I fear that I really don't know him that well. I worry about what my mother might be like after my father dies. I fear that I might fail at my chosen profession and have lost five years of my life when I could have done something else. I then wonder what I'd do after I failed. I saw myself in Bloom's shoes and I wonder if my dark appointment with destiny is coming, too.
I'll admit, there wasn't a lot of hilarious dialogue that I could endlessly quote. There little bits of the score were very reminiscent of the AF score. There's set-up for a sub-plot or two that you see scenes of in the trailer but are missing from the film. To me, it doesn't matter.
Critics are trying to rip this a new one. I haven't agreed with critics much this year (look up the review for Batman or Serenity and see how close they are to mine). I love this movie. I was seriously considering sneaking out at the end and then back in before the next showing to see it again, but the next showing had people lined up waiting once we got out of our showing. It was a little ridiculous.
I want this movie. If there'd been a stand outside the theater offering a DVD of the movie (as some studios have considered doing), I'd buy it in a heartbeat. Money is tight now, and I'd still do it.
Don't let my opinion buff up your expectations of the film, though. This film meant a lot to me because of how it related to my life and how I saw the film (figuratively, not literally, but I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't have a crick in my neck at the end). Nearly every part of this film worked for me, and at the end I was satisfied. I walked out of the theater without a real complaint. I just wish I could see more movies like this.
Anyway, so, I was looking forward to Elizabethtown. I didn't watch Vanilla Sky because the film looked a bit odd, I'm not a huge Tom Cruise fan, and it was based off of a Hispanic film, which meant that the majority of the film really wouldn't be from Crowe's heart and past, which is where AF and Say Anything were from. So, I skipped it. I watched the first trailer and was okay with it. Nothing great, but trailers are often formulaic and don't really get to the heart of the movie. I watched the internet trailer on apple.com and was really moved. I don't know if it was Elton John's song "My Father's Gun" that played over the majority of the trailer (which featured very little dialogue, as the dialogue was mostly muted while the song played, which was kind of odd) or just what I could derive from the scenes from expressions and not dialogue, but it was simply great.
I watched everything that came out about the movie. Trailers, the internet trailer, even the music selection trailer on Apple's site. I devoured it all. I was expecting a really good movie.
So, I went to the first screening today. I went a little late because last time I'd gone to a movie at that time of day on a Friday, the theater had been practically empty (of course, that's when I went to see Serenity, so there you go). The place was packed. I went into the theater and it was almost full. See, I live near Elizabethtown, so a lot of people wanted to see the movie because it's based in a city near where they live (not why I was there). Then I remembered that it's Fall Break time for the kids around here, so a lot of youth groups were there (heh, they said "fuck" twice in the movie and I heard a lot of gasps. I loved that). I found a seat that was a single, next to the handicapped area at the back. That was nice.
Until a manager came in and said that there was a woman there with her handicapped daughter and they wanted to sit together. I was having a nice day and said I'd move. I got up and looked around. I don't like to sit next to strangers in a theater. I'm not wild about sitting next to anyone in the theater unless I'm close to them in some way (really good friend, hot girl, etc.). So, the only seats that worked into that criteria were in the front row. Alright, fine, how bad could it be to sit in the front row?
I basically had to scootch down as far as possible to see the entire screen. Shit. This movie had better be fucking good. Fucking youth groups and fucking old people taking up all the fucking seats. It'd better be fucking good.
It was.
It was so damn good.
It was the best movie I've seen this year. I love Star Wars and really liked Episode 3. This was better. Critics fell all over themselves for Batman Begins and Serenity. I thought they were both mediocre. I liked Wedding Crashers and The 40-Year-Old Virgin. A History of Violence was good. War of the Worlds and Mr. & Mrs. Smith were okay, but forgettable. Sin City was gritty and harsh, but good. Saraha wasn't as bad as I expected, but wasn't all that good.
But Elizabethtown was abso-fucking-lutely great. It easily was better than all of those movies from the past 10 months. I can't even recall a movie from 2004 that was that good.
I hate Orlando Bloom. He was really good in this, even great at times.
I used to dislike Kirsten Dunst. Something changed that about 6 months ago and I can't put my finger on it why. In this, she was really good (the Southern accent that they tried to work in for her was the only nitpick I had, and I'm not sure if it grated on me for a specific reason or if it was just that I'm used to her normal accent that she uses in every other movie I've seen her in).
The soundtrack was great and I'm thinking about heading to Wal-Mart to buy it right now. In fact, I think I will. Meh, probably not. I don't know.
I was worried it would be Garden State all over again. It's not. It's better than Garden State, and I really liked Garden State.
It made me realize things about myself that scare the hell out of me. I'm not ready for my father to die. I fear that I really don't know him that well. I worry about what my mother might be like after my father dies. I fear that I might fail at my chosen profession and have lost five years of my life when I could have done something else. I then wonder what I'd do after I failed. I saw myself in Bloom's shoes and I wonder if my dark appointment with destiny is coming, too.
I'll admit, there wasn't a lot of hilarious dialogue that I could endlessly quote. There little bits of the score were very reminiscent of the AF score. There's set-up for a sub-plot or two that you see scenes of in the trailer but are missing from the film. To me, it doesn't matter.
Critics are trying to rip this a new one. I haven't agreed with critics much this year (look up the review for Batman or Serenity and see how close they are to mine). I love this movie. I was seriously considering sneaking out at the end and then back in before the next showing to see it again, but the next showing had people lined up waiting once we got out of our showing. It was a little ridiculous.
I want this movie. If there'd been a stand outside the theater offering a DVD of the movie (as some studios have considered doing), I'd buy it in a heartbeat. Money is tight now, and I'd still do it.
Don't let my opinion buff up your expectations of the film, though. This film meant a lot to me because of how it related to my life and how I saw the film (figuratively, not literally, but I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't have a crick in my neck at the end). Nearly every part of this film worked for me, and at the end I was satisfied. I walked out of the theater without a real complaint. I just wish I could see more movies like this.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Lookin' into their eyes, I see they're runnin' too
Wow, it's actually been a week since I last wrote one of these. Look, it's just the second sentence and I know this is going to be a long one. It's been brewing in my mind for the last couple of days, and it's a mighty strong brew, so I'll try to put in a couple of stopping points for those without the time or the inclination to read extremely long posts.
Friday night, I was out at a friend's house just to hang out. About a half hour after getting there, my dad calls and says that a guy was at their house asking for me. It turned out that is was Calvin, who was my best friend through junior high and high school. We were pretty inseparable, taking a lot of the same classes, hating the same teachers, and we were totally devoted to the Yearbook program. Sometime near the middle of our junior year, Calvin got a girlfriend, it became serious, and she ended up getting pregnant. Calvin tried to "do the right thing" by asking her to marry him, but her parents wouldn't let it happen. The kid was born the July between our junior and senior years. Calvin stuck with school pretty regularly until the spring of our senior year, and then he started missing school. A lot. When Spring Break rolled around, he dropped out, although the girl stuck with it until she graduated. Calvin took care of the kid, she went to school. I didn't talk to him much that summer, but the next summer, we got together and hung out for the day. He'd gotten married to the girl in a small courthouse ceremony the previous September, which I wasn't told about and was honestly a little hurt that he hadn't invited me or informed me in some manner (After all, my e-mail address hasn't changed in seven years, and he could obviously find where I lived today, so it seems he could at least drop me a line). For some reason, we went car shopping for him that day, and he bought new car (Calvin was really, really into cars in high school. When I say that, I mean that he had maybe five cars he was working on at one point in time. Some people collect stamps, Calvin collected crappy "classic" cars that really needed work). He bought that car three years ago. We hadn't talked since. He worked for Grandy's pretty steadily after the girl became pregnant and he was some kind of manager when I last saw him, so two years ago, I went to Grandy's to try and find him, but he had left by that point. I think I tried calling the phone number that he gave me, but I didn't get in touch with him. Even the e-mail address bounced back. He was essentially gone.
So, three years after I last saw him, I get that call from my dad. As it turns out, I was home that weekend, so it was amazingly lucky that Calvin caught me when he did. We talked for a few minutes on the phone, during which time I gently probed for information. He and the wife had separated sometime last year after she'd had a second kid with him, she'd joined the National Guard and shipped off in January and came back in April, at which time she asked him for a divorce. So, the wife is now the ex-wife. He was now driving a truck for a junkyard, going on a big, circular path through several neighboring states five days a week. He was renting a house from an old English teacher of ours. There was this tone in his voice that made him sound hollow, that joy really didn't exist for him except where his kids were concerned. I told him where I was and told him to swing by, I was going to ditch my friends for the night to hang out with him. (Potty break if you need it)
So, Calvin picked me up and we just went. Our hometown is now essentially a suburb of a big town across the river, so we naturally headed in that direction, since our town is dying a very slow death (the local theater went out of business, so now we have to travel about 30 miles to a theater in neighboring towns. It sucks). Anyway, so we talked about where I was, where old friends were, and he talked about regrets. He was so pissed at himself for not having stuck with high school and then gone to college. He was one of the smartest kids in the school. He scored a distinguished on his portfolio, and he was one of only 15 kids in my senior class to do that (unfortunately, they couldn't count his scores toward the final tally because he dropped out). Now, when he drives his truck, five times a week, he passes the university where he had planned to go. We ended up going to a pizza place/bar and then back to his place to continue to catch up. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to catch up on. It ended up being a lot like Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days," where people who knew each other in high school end up talking about high school. Calvin and I weren't really trying to get back to our "glory days," we just really didn't have anything else to talk about. That was kind of fun, but it was also sad. At the end of the night, I gave him my e-mail address and phone number, and told him that if he ever gets a chance to visit, I've got a couch with his name on it. I really want to build a friendship with him again, but I'm wondering how to.
The thing that makes me sad the most is that despite how close we were, there's not the much there now. I told him things about my life that very few people know, but it has no real impact on him like it does on my current circle of friends. Where I currently am, I have friends who are like siblings to me, that I share just about everything with and enjoy hanging out with for hours on end. Yet, in a few years, when we move away for jobs or just to wander the Earth, when I get together with them, will we have anything in common, or will we just talk about our "glory days?" I seriously don't want that to happen. I'm sad to find out it happened to Calvin and me, but it scares me that it might happen to me and some of my current friends. I hope it doesn't happen, I really do. I have a hard time imagining what my life would be like without talking to these people once a week; I can't fathom not doing so for months or years at a time.
Catching up with Calvin also taught me a lesson about, well, me. The past few years, I've felt like I've done nothing with my life. Yeah, I've got a degree, but I really didn't do anything to get it. I took classes that seemed like they'd be fun, some of which were. I took classes that were "required" and did the least amount of work possible, passing them all with relative ease. I've paid a lot of money to get a degree that was really just a way to get into a grad program, which I'm actually learning from and doing stuff in. Except for social growth, I feel like I've lost four years. I'm unmotivated. I'm tired of the bureaucratic bullshit that I've been going through. I've questioned how the hell I got to where I am, and tried to find exactly what figurative roads brought me here. I think I have friends here who are the same way, but I've been with most of them for the past four years, so we ended up questioning it all together. Calvin taught me that he's done the same thing. He was on a very different path, yet we're all starting to feel the same way. There's a line from Jackson Browne's "Running on Empty" which I took a chunk of as the title of this post:
From what Calvin told me about where several people from high school currently are, we're all runnin' on empty. That's sad, but comforting, too.
He also brings another Jackson Browne lyric to mind which would make an awesome SotP, but this seems more appropriate. Calvin's graduated with his GED last year (valedictorian, actually, scoring extremely high without having studied any of it since high school), doesn't have the financial structure to go to school, has two kids that are weighing heavily on him since their mother really doesn't want them because they interrupt her new partying lifestyle, a job he doesn't like and with no real chances to move up the ladder, a friend's wife who is falling in love with him and he feels wrong about it, and no real friends around, only asshole cousins who grab his ex-wife's ass in front of him to tick him off and who take and deal drugs but say that "it's okay, we're working undercover for the cops." Essentially, Calvin is surrounded by shit, and he knows that he's to blame for a good chunk of it. That's why "These Days" comes to mind, and the lines
It was oddly prophetic that I put that on a CD to drive home to Thursday morning. It saddens me to know that Calvin is in that situation, and it saddens me even more that I can't really do anything about it other than drop him a line every now and then so he has someone to talk to it about.
Well, that's about it. It was a long, sweeping narrative epic that I'm sure had you enthralled. Hope you took advantage of the pee break and, if you didn't, I hope your bladder didn't explode. However, if that was the case, your dedication is appreciated.
Friday night, I was out at a friend's house just to hang out. About a half hour after getting there, my dad calls and says that a guy was at their house asking for me. It turned out that is was Calvin, who was my best friend through junior high and high school. We were pretty inseparable, taking a lot of the same classes, hating the same teachers, and we were totally devoted to the Yearbook program. Sometime near the middle of our junior year, Calvin got a girlfriend, it became serious, and she ended up getting pregnant. Calvin tried to "do the right thing" by asking her to marry him, but her parents wouldn't let it happen. The kid was born the July between our junior and senior years. Calvin stuck with school pretty regularly until the spring of our senior year, and then he started missing school. A lot. When Spring Break rolled around, he dropped out, although the girl stuck with it until she graduated. Calvin took care of the kid, she went to school. I didn't talk to him much that summer, but the next summer, we got together and hung out for the day. He'd gotten married to the girl in a small courthouse ceremony the previous September, which I wasn't told about and was honestly a little hurt that he hadn't invited me or informed me in some manner (After all, my e-mail address hasn't changed in seven years, and he could obviously find where I lived today, so it seems he could at least drop me a line). For some reason, we went car shopping for him that day, and he bought new car (Calvin was really, really into cars in high school. When I say that, I mean that he had maybe five cars he was working on at one point in time. Some people collect stamps, Calvin collected crappy "classic" cars that really needed work). He bought that car three years ago. We hadn't talked since. He worked for Grandy's pretty steadily after the girl became pregnant and he was some kind of manager when I last saw him, so two years ago, I went to Grandy's to try and find him, but he had left by that point. I think I tried calling the phone number that he gave me, but I didn't get in touch with him. Even the e-mail address bounced back. He was essentially gone.
So, three years after I last saw him, I get that call from my dad. As it turns out, I was home that weekend, so it was amazingly lucky that Calvin caught me when he did. We talked for a few minutes on the phone, during which time I gently probed for information. He and the wife had separated sometime last year after she'd had a second kid with him, she'd joined the National Guard and shipped off in January and came back in April, at which time she asked him for a divorce. So, the wife is now the ex-wife. He was now driving a truck for a junkyard, going on a big, circular path through several neighboring states five days a week. He was renting a house from an old English teacher of ours. There was this tone in his voice that made him sound hollow, that joy really didn't exist for him except where his kids were concerned. I told him where I was and told him to swing by, I was going to ditch my friends for the night to hang out with him. (Potty break if you need it)
So, Calvin picked me up and we just went. Our hometown is now essentially a suburb of a big town across the river, so we naturally headed in that direction, since our town is dying a very slow death (the local theater went out of business, so now we have to travel about 30 miles to a theater in neighboring towns. It sucks). Anyway, so we talked about where I was, where old friends were, and he talked about regrets. He was so pissed at himself for not having stuck with high school and then gone to college. He was one of the smartest kids in the school. He scored a distinguished on his portfolio, and he was one of only 15 kids in my senior class to do that (unfortunately, they couldn't count his scores toward the final tally because he dropped out). Now, when he drives his truck, five times a week, he passes the university where he had planned to go. We ended up going to a pizza place/bar and then back to his place to continue to catch up. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to catch up on. It ended up being a lot like Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days," where people who knew each other in high school end up talking about high school. Calvin and I weren't really trying to get back to our "glory days," we just really didn't have anything else to talk about. That was kind of fun, but it was also sad. At the end of the night, I gave him my e-mail address and phone number, and told him that if he ever gets a chance to visit, I've got a couch with his name on it. I really want to build a friendship with him again, but I'm wondering how to.
The thing that makes me sad the most is that despite how close we were, there's not the much there now. I told him things about my life that very few people know, but it has no real impact on him like it does on my current circle of friends. Where I currently am, I have friends who are like siblings to me, that I share just about everything with and enjoy hanging out with for hours on end. Yet, in a few years, when we move away for jobs or just to wander the Earth, when I get together with them, will we have anything in common, or will we just talk about our "glory days?" I seriously don't want that to happen. I'm sad to find out it happened to Calvin and me, but it scares me that it might happen to me and some of my current friends. I hope it doesn't happen, I really do. I have a hard time imagining what my life would be like without talking to these people once a week; I can't fathom not doing so for months or years at a time.
Catching up with Calvin also taught me a lesson about, well, me. The past few years, I've felt like I've done nothing with my life. Yeah, I've got a degree, but I really didn't do anything to get it. I took classes that seemed like they'd be fun, some of which were. I took classes that were "required" and did the least amount of work possible, passing them all with relative ease. I've paid a lot of money to get a degree that was really just a way to get into a grad program, which I'm actually learning from and doing stuff in. Except for social growth, I feel like I've lost four years. I'm unmotivated. I'm tired of the bureaucratic bullshit that I've been going through. I've questioned how the hell I got to where I am, and tried to find exactly what figurative roads brought me here. I think I have friends here who are the same way, but I've been with most of them for the past four years, so we ended up questioning it all together. Calvin taught me that he's done the same thing. He was on a very different path, yet we're all starting to feel the same way. There's a line from Jackson Browne's "Running on Empty" which I took a chunk of as the title of this post:
"Lookin' out at the road rushin' under my wheels,
I don't know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels.
I look around at the friends that I used to turn to to pull me through.
Lookin' into their eyes, I see they're runnin' too."
From what Calvin told me about where several people from high school currently are, we're all runnin' on empty. That's sad, but comforting, too.
He also brings another Jackson Browne lyric to mind which would make an awesome SotP, but this seems more appropriate. Calvin's graduated with his GED last year (valedictorian, actually, scoring extremely high without having studied any of it since high school), doesn't have the financial structure to go to school, has two kids that are weighing heavily on him since their mother really doesn't want them because they interrupt her new partying lifestyle, a job he doesn't like and with no real chances to move up the ladder, a friend's wife who is falling in love with him and he feels wrong about it, and no real friends around, only asshole cousins who grab his ex-wife's ass in front of him to tick him off and who take and deal drugs but say that "it's okay, we're working undercover for the cops." Essentially, Calvin is surrounded by shit, and he knows that he's to blame for a good chunk of it. That's why "These Days" comes to mind, and the lines
"These days I sit on cornerstones,
And pass the time in quarter-tones to ten, my friend.
Don't confront me with my failures;
I have not forgotten them."
It was oddly prophetic that I put that on a CD to drive home to Thursday morning. It saddens me to know that Calvin is in that situation, and it saddens me even more that I can't really do anything about it other than drop him a line every now and then so he has someone to talk to it about.
Well, that's about it. It was a long, sweeping narrative epic that I'm sure had you enthralled. Hope you took advantage of the pee break and, if you didn't, I hope your bladder didn't explode. However, if that was the case, your dedication is appreciated.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
So there I was...mother of God, there I am!
Yeah, so, I found myself considering today how I've been fighting stupidity and empty words with intelligence, yet still empty words. I've been in this debate with a dumbass over Christian ideals, yet the only real source of ammo is the Bible. The problem with that is that the Bible is not really a good source of Christian ideals. See, it contradicts itself, and it was put together not by God, but by a group of men who were wanting to run things their way, also known as the Catholic Church. See, the Bible was not sent down from on high directly to a publisher. In fact, the books of the New Testament were just testaments and letters and memoirs of various people from 2000 years ago (give or take several hundred). The Catholic Church took these and decided which ones should be taught and which ones should not. The ones that worked for their needs became the Catholic Bible. The ones that went against their idea of how the Church should be became the Apocrypha. Some of these texts were even written by saints of the Catholic Church, such as Bartholomew, one of the forgotten 12 apostles. While the dwainker might point out how much the Catholic Church and Christianity were influenced by Peter, it's important to remember that the Bible was put together several generations after Peter died. Several of the gospels and works in the apocrypha are very different versions of the stories you'd find in your Bible today, yet they were written around the same time by men who spent just as much time with Jesus. In that sense, it's hard not to look at the Bible and realize that some information has been kept from you, all in the name of creating a certain face for Christianity. In some stories, Eve didn't eat the fruit off the tree, she had sex with Satan, and that's why man fell. So, if you're trying to find a version of the story to tell your kids and create a kind and gentle face for your religion (which is all about abstinence and monogamy), which one are you going to pick? Christianity is really just like politics: you put spin on everything to make it look good for the little people who support you. I'm not saying that you should just throw out the Bible, but I wish that somehow Christianity could be a little more honest with itself and understand its history instead of just blindly going along with what the Bible says. Some may argue that the men who put the Bible together were divinely influenced, but that doesn't jive with the huge (and well-documented) debate behind whether or not to include Revelations in the Bible. If these guys were led by God, wouldn't it have been a fast and easy decision instead of a long and draw out battle?
The idea of Christianity's past led me to wonder about its future. Have you ever considered what will replace Christianity? It only makes sense that something will. That's how it's worked in the past. For example, there were the Greeks and their gods. Zeus was on high and Hera was a bitch, and all was well. Then the Romans came and said, "Hey, we like a lot of this religious stuff. Let's use it for ourselves." And so they did, only using new names for the same shit. Then came the Christians, who were persecuted until Constantine said, "Hey, let's give this a try." And so they did, and Christians went all over the world saying, "We know better than you. Let's civilize you and save your soul." So, the question is, what will come and take Christianity's place? Science seems a bit obvious, since it's a religion in itself (much like Greek mythology, where everything had an explanation to it, and a particular god assigned to it, science does the same thing, and just has a theory name assigned to it instead). I don't know. Maybe Oprahism will do it. Man, have you seen women on that show when she comes out? Had Christ gotten half that reception, I'm pretty sure the Catholic Church would use an old man in bed as their symbol instead of a depressing old crucifix.
It also makes total sense to me why Christianity is the more or less official religion of America. Look at what Americans did: Native Americans lived happily with their way of life, then the Americans came in and said, "We know better than you. Let's civilize you." And so they did, with smallpox and gunpowder and glass beads. Look, I like where I am now, but I know that blood has been spilled over this spot time and again, and that makes me look at it all a little differently than most Americans. It also makes me wonder what will come in and take the United States' place someday.
The idea of Christianity's past led me to wonder about its future. Have you ever considered what will replace Christianity? It only makes sense that something will. That's how it's worked in the past. For example, there were the Greeks and their gods. Zeus was on high and Hera was a bitch, and all was well. Then the Romans came and said, "Hey, we like a lot of this religious stuff. Let's use it for ourselves." And so they did, only using new names for the same shit. Then came the Christians, who were persecuted until Constantine said, "Hey, let's give this a try." And so they did, and Christians went all over the world saying, "We know better than you. Let's civilize you and save your soul." So, the question is, what will come and take Christianity's place? Science seems a bit obvious, since it's a religion in itself (much like Greek mythology, where everything had an explanation to it, and a particular god assigned to it, science does the same thing, and just has a theory name assigned to it instead). I don't know. Maybe Oprahism will do it. Man, have you seen women on that show when she comes out? Had Christ gotten half that reception, I'm pretty sure the Catholic Church would use an old man in bed as their symbol instead of a depressing old crucifix.
It also makes total sense to me why Christianity is the more or less official religion of America. Look at what Americans did: Native Americans lived happily with their way of life, then the Americans came in and said, "We know better than you. Let's civilize you." And so they did, with smallpox and gunpowder and glass beads. Look, I like where I am now, but I know that blood has been spilled over this spot time and again, and that makes me look at it all a little differently than most Americans. It also makes me wonder what will come in and take the United States' place someday.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Never thought this would happen
Yeah, so, two posts in 24 hours time. It's an amazing world after all.
I just finished watching Extras, the new comedy series by Ricky Gervais, the guy behind The Office. I loved The Office and so I was a little apprehensive about Extras. Wow. The first two shows weren't that great, but, oh man, the last four just killed me. Kate Winslet's episode was so funny that I nearly had a stroke. The next two were really funny, too, and the last one, with Patrick Stewart, was so funny I had tears in my eyes. Wow.
The first two episodes reminded me of The Office because of that "painful" feeling you get watching it, but later episodes mixed that and just straight-out humor. Just amazingly good stuff.
I just finished watching Extras, the new comedy series by Ricky Gervais, the guy behind The Office. I loved The Office and so I was a little apprehensive about Extras. Wow. The first two shows weren't that great, but, oh man, the last four just killed me. Kate Winslet's episode was so funny that I nearly had a stroke. The next two were really funny, too, and the last one, with Patrick Stewart, was so funny I had tears in my eyes. Wow.
The first two episodes reminded me of The Office because of that "painful" feeling you get watching it, but later episodes mixed that and just straight-out humor. Just amazingly good stuff.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Serenity = Okay
Yeah, so, I went and saw Serenity today. I gave in. And it was, as you can see above, okay. I didn't love it, I didn't hate it. It ranks about where Batman Begins did.
I loved the dialogue, and picked up a few new terms, including the expletive "God's Balls." Yeah, that one's getting used tonight. But...
Wash and Book died, and they were two characters that I really liked. Also, I liked Mal in the show, but there was just something...odd about him in the movie. Inara was included simply to "get the band back together." Simon and Kaylee getting together was nice, but it didn't feel like a real payoff. Wash's death was quick and mean, something you don't see much in films, but completely unnecessary. Book's death was appropriate, I'll give you that, but I do want to know his backstory, which was hinted at so much without payoff so far. Jayne was just there to deliver funny lines and as an enforcer. I'll give you the fact that he was that in the show, but it was just one-note to me. It reminded me of the X-Files movie, where everything that happened there could happen on the show proper. True, Firefly was cancelled, but this would have worked just as well as a mini-series in the vein of Farscape's The Peacekeeper Wars. It was all payoff for what happened on the show, felt a little less rushed, and still told a sweeping storyline that could stand on its own. With Serenity, there was so much catch-up for the one new guy in the theater (who probably wandered in by mistake) that it hindered the movie a bit. To me, the movie needs a viewing of the show to really understand a lot of what's going on. Luckily, I did that. What about the people who didn't.
Oh, and how can Mal have received an honor for valor at the Battle of Serenity Valley? It was the final, crushing battle in the war, so are you telling me that the Browncoats had a meeting to give out awards and then disbanded? That's like a Confederate getting an award for being at the Battle of Palmito Ranch (the last actual land battle of the American Civil War. The winner? The Rebels. Heh).
Anyway, I thought the movie was alright. I went in with mediocre expectations. I got roughly what I expected.
Other than that, I guess there isn't much to say.
I loved the dialogue, and picked up a few new terms, including the expletive "God's Balls." Yeah, that one's getting used tonight. But...
Wash and Book died, and they were two characters that I really liked. Also, I liked Mal in the show, but there was just something...odd about him in the movie. Inara was included simply to "get the band back together." Simon and Kaylee getting together was nice, but it didn't feel like a real payoff. Wash's death was quick and mean, something you don't see much in films, but completely unnecessary. Book's death was appropriate, I'll give you that, but I do want to know his backstory, which was hinted at so much without payoff so far. Jayne was just there to deliver funny lines and as an enforcer. I'll give you the fact that he was that in the show, but it was just one-note to me. It reminded me of the X-Files movie, where everything that happened there could happen on the show proper. True, Firefly was cancelled, but this would have worked just as well as a mini-series in the vein of Farscape's The Peacekeeper Wars. It was all payoff for what happened on the show, felt a little less rushed, and still told a sweeping storyline that could stand on its own. With Serenity, there was so much catch-up for the one new guy in the theater (who probably wandered in by mistake) that it hindered the movie a bit. To me, the movie needs a viewing of the show to really understand a lot of what's going on. Luckily, I did that. What about the people who didn't.
Oh, and how can Mal have received an honor for valor at the Battle of Serenity Valley? It was the final, crushing battle in the war, so are you telling me that the Browncoats had a meeting to give out awards and then disbanded? That's like a Confederate getting an award for being at the Battle of Palmito Ranch (the last actual land battle of the American Civil War. The winner? The Rebels. Heh).
Anyway, I thought the movie was alright. I went in with mediocre expectations. I got roughly what I expected.
Other than that, I guess there isn't much to say.
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