|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
| ... A Toast...to a new world of Candy and Monsters... | ||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
|
|
|
6.29.2004 | |
|
||
|
||
|
Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow... This is a new movie from Flint, MI (Michael Moore's hometown) filmmaker Kevin Conroy ... the entire movie is created in the computer world. Sets, backgrounds, and obviously the GIANT FLYING ROBOTS!!!!!! were created via CGI.This means that all the costs of the film went into CGI, makeup and the occasional costume for the actors. (and frequently they are only photographed from the waist up!) I am blown away by how cool this movie looks... it's a little bit bright-eyed and innocent, and assumes a viewer to be the same (the cynical side of me will absolutely loathe this film) - it's incredibly similar in scope and style to the animated "the Iron Giant," which gave the world Vin Diesel. But don't hold that against that film. The Iron Giant was a fantastic Cold War-era retelling of Frankenstein about a young kid and his GIANT ROBOT!!!!! friend... the ROBOT!!! The giant learns to speak, and is a peace loving entity, but is hunted by a greedy and unethical government agent who also tries to hit on the kid's mom. Anyway, the Iron Giant was a great story, and I believe Sky Captain will be too... if it ever comes out. SKATWOT was supposed to be released last friday, but was delayed until September 17th. Bummer. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this will be a 50s style War of the Worlds epic with a 2000s perspective. Let's hear it again for the Iron Giant! Posted by sarcophage @ 2:14:00 PM Add or check out a |
|
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
6.24.2004 | |
|
||
|
||
|
Quantum Leap leaps on to DVD... only about 10 years too late. My favorite television show of all time is not Buffy, it is not Angel, it is not Earth: Final Conflict (which I've never even seen), and it is most certainly not the US version of Coupling. That title is reserved for an early 90s show called "Quantum Leap."Starring Scott Bakula and Dean Stockwell as the brilliant scientist leaper (time traveller) who changes people's lives, and his extremely horny sidekick. It's fairly similar to those old Mr. Peabody and Sherman bits from Rocky & Bullwinkle. Anyway, QL has finally debuted on DVD - about 10 years after the show was cancelled! Granted, there were a total of 6 episodes released on crappy VHS tapes back in the mid-90s, but by no means did this satisfy my hunger to own every single episode (even those with the "Evil Leaper")... plus I didn't even buy one of 'em. But I do want to buy the First Season on DVD, which has just been released. In fact, I want to buy two copies, maybe four - to prove to stupid Universal that releasing this show (all 5 seasons of it, most importantly) is a good idea! In the business of TV, DVDs have become a fairly good bet - if they're released in a timely manner... but given that this show went off the air in 1994, and started in 1989, it's going to take some serious 80s nostalgia to kick in for this show to take off. Here's to hoping. This whole thing is so bittersweet - imagine if they had released the first 2 seasons of Buffy, but then they didn't sell well enough to bother putting out the subsequent seasons... it's a horrific possibility, and one that QL fans (however many or few of us there are) face right now. Posted by sarcophage @ 8:45:00 AM Add or check out a |
|
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
6.22.2004 | |
|
||
|
||
|
New levels of fright in our political process... I was bumbling around on the internet, checking one of my favorite sites, /. (Slashdot)) and I found this other link, which chilled me to the core:it's called "Virginia is for Haters" This is a site which has been set up to fight the hatemongering that is apparently going on in the state of Virginia - right under people's noses! I didn't know about this, I asked some co-workers - THEY didn't know about this. But it's true - I looked it up on Virginia's state page. The other thing that frightens me is that there are already idiots posting to the site all kinds of stupid crap that's essentially in the "Go Home Jap" vein of the World War II era. I'm sure my asian-american friends will love me posting THAT to my blog. Oh wait, they're all Korean. Nevermind. Anyway, it's crap like this that makes me still loathe this world sometimes... I originally just loathed this country, but I realized that we're still a pretty progressive country compared to much of the world - Serbia, Saudi Arabia, Israel/Palestine, Bosnia... they've got a lot of shit to get together before they're even ready to hate via web page. They're still killing each other. Posted by sarcophage @ 8:06:00 AM Add or check out a |
|
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
6.08.2004 | |
|
||
|
||
|
Odyssey part 3: Homer never had a story like THIS! "Author"'s note: I have a terrible habit of rushing to finish stories when I sense the audience has "had enough" (I tell long stories, can ya tell?) - given that this is in the written word, I will attempt to stave off any urges toward brevity. Ha ha on you!Dunn, NC - Ext. College running track - Morning. The HO (Honda Odyssey, get it? Damn I am funny.) pulls up to the event - it's still dark outside, and I can already hear some of the riders clamoring for the registration table. Registration doesn't start for TWO HOURS, you bastards! Shelly and I park the car at the high school running track where our bike race will begin. (I didn't quite understand why it was a running track for a bike event either). We run over to the Big White Box Truck (see Part 1 of the story) and begin helping to unload. Unfortunately - there's just one slight little problem. It's still 4:30am, and the darn sun hasn't decided to come out yet. Well, one of our Dunn, NC friends decides to fix that little wagon - he rolls his new Oldsmobile/Buick/GMC something or other onto the grassy area where we're setting up, flips the lights on and we continue. 2 minutes later, the lights go out. A table drops on the foot of one of the volunteers. Lots of swearing follows. It appears that the Olds has one of those lighting systems that keeps you from killing the battery on your car - so if you leave the lights on, it just shuts them off. Except we kinda needed them. For at least another hour. So Jimmy Bob Sue runs back to the Olds and flips the lights back on. Apparently he didn't consider flicking the switch to "always on" or to at least turn the engine on, because 2 minutes later the lights go out again. Another table landed on another volunteer. Actually, it may have been the same volunteer - I couldn't see very well. Billy Joe Bob Abraham runs over to his car, shrieking (I am not making this part up) "Tarnation!" Hit the lights again. This time Cletus Zebediah realizes his mistake, and engine is started. I pray to the Redneck Gods that he does not think he must take the car out of Park. More Tables, Ladders & Chairs off the truck - we soon have a makeshift office, where we can take people's registrations and money and such. Tour Coordinator comes by and tells us "Hey, I was gonna set you guys up in cabins when we get to White Lake - that sound ok?" I'm thinking to myself "sure, log cabins, maybe with a fire going inside - hey, that sounds like fun!" Time goes by, and people are registered (after waiting hungrily for the 2 hours), the sun comes up, and we are five minutes away from the start of the race. The riders are on their bikes, they're in perfect formation, and our Tour Coordinator friend from last night begins to scale the scaffolding that crosses high above the starting line. She has a megaphone in one hand, and her important paperwork in the other. She looks psyched to get the race underway - the riders are pedalling backwards in anticipation - the crowd is cheering wildly, when suddenly... BOOOOOM!!!! Thunder rocks the track area, echoing furiously against the college dorms across the street - a thick bolt of lightning illuminates the sky which has suddenly darkened in a matter of seconds... And then... The rain comes. I think of several Creedence Clearwater Revival songs at this point - "Have You Ever Seen The Rain?" "Walk On the Water" "Commotion" "It Came Out Of The Sky" and of course, "Who'll Stop the Rain?" The race begins anyway, and everybody takes off, full force... Only a few minutes later, some of the riders have already turned around, and returned to their automobiles, with an audible "Screw this!" Shelly and I help break down the registration area, and are ready to head to the halfway point for lunch and more setup/break-down when Tour Coordinator comes up to us. "Hey guys! Wait a second!" My Spider-Sense starts tingling. "Listen, this guy Gary, who's one of our big sponsors..." Spider-Sense is shrieking like Doctor Doom has walked up behind me with wedgie intentions... "Well, he wants to get his car to the place we're spending the night, in White Lake... Do you think one of you could drive it for him?" Alarms are blaring in my head - Shelly, whose Spider-Sense is inferior to my own, gets suckered into it. I merely have to navigate rural North Carolina by myself in my van, with Shelly following close behind. Those of you that know me are probably groaning right about this point. I am now in my van, still soaking, looking over the RIDER'S GUIDE TO Tour de CURE, Raleigh. The "Rider's Guide" is the exact rider's route to our in-between destination, White Lake, NC. That's the RIDER'S ROUTE - not the shortest path to our destination, and most certainly not the most direct or car-friendly. This is all of the direction I have, besides a National Geographic Road Atlas which actually scoffed at me when I tried to look up "White Lake, NC." Nowheresville, NC. 60 miles, no, 90 miles, aww, who the hell knows!? Shelly and I end up driving through more small towns, even MORE small towns that looked like the other small towns in reverse. (we had to turn around and go back through - because that allowed the riders to cover more distance). Finally, we make it 1/4 of the way there and have to stand outside (in the rain), making sure the riders make an important turn at a 4-way intersection, somewhere in southern NC. At this point, I call Monika - "Hi." "Hey, sweetie, how are you?" "I'm standing out in the rain in North Carolina somewhere, waving bike riders in a certain direction that they're already instinctively taking, thanks to a big arrow at my feet." "Oh that's nice, is the weather good?" I hold the phone out so she can hear the rain. At this point, an older lady in a compact car tears up to me. Screeech! (not the Saved By The Bell character) She politely asks "Hi - are you broken down over there?" It takes me perhaps a moment too long to realize that she's talking about my van parked over yonder, and that she's asking me if I am in need of vehicle assistance." "Oh my gosh! Thank you so much - no, I'm helping people on this bike event we're having, but my car is o---" I haven't finished my sentence by the time she gives me a dreadful look, and peels out, jealous that she has been unable to bestow a true Southern Hospitality moment on me. I go back to my conversation. "What was that?" Monika asks me. "Oh nothing, some lady thought I had a flat tire or something." "Oh." Eventually, Monika has to go, as she has found several thousand things better to do than talk to her currently boring, wet husband this weekend. More time passes, and I am able to hop back in my car and Shelly and I are back on the road to White Lake. Many hours later (and I do mean many hours), we take a turn that reveals a sign, reading "White Lake, 2 miles." I am overjoyed! Finally, a destination! Finally, rest! Finally, a bathroom without a cow bell for the doorknob! White Lake, NC. FFA Campground. Shelly and I roll into the campground... Wait, it's a campground?! Aah, I see it - back at the rear of the lot is a large log building that says "FFA Lodge" in wood-carved letters. Great - that place looks like it'll be just fine. In rows before the lodge, however, I notice there are screened-in houses with bunk beds and rotten mattresses, looking suspiciously like a back-woods prison. These are the "cabins" that we were told about earlier. Uh oh. My spider-sense begins tingling again. No lodge for you, buddy. We're supposed to SLEEP in this hellhole? Before my brain had short-circuited itself, we are first faced with the task to put the approximately 400 bicycles into a 200-bicycle sized building for the night. By the time this was over, there were bikes in the restrooms, hanging off of toilets, on top of desks, and some bikes perched horizontally on top of groups of other bikes. I guess prone to too many fatal accidents and wanton destruction, professional bicycles apparently do not include kick-stands - so we had to improvise. All were delicately balanced against the walls and each other, like rows of $3,000 dominoes. Finishing our gargantuan job, Shelly and I hop back in the car, off to find ANY KIND OF MOTEL, HOTEL, MOTOR HOTEL, whatever they called it! We drive around for 20 minutes to 3 different "towns" around White Lake. Apparently in the White Lake area, they like to call single streets separated by large fields a "town." We roll into motel after motel, with not a vacancy to be found. Exasperated, I finally asked one of the motel managers what the deal was... She replies - "oh, they're all here for the Putt-Putt (tm) convention." Of course.! The PUTT-PUTT convention! How silly of me! I looked at her in disbelief and she pointed over my shoulder through the window, where I saw gallons of Americana pouring out of minivans, all of them waving their Putt-Putters in the air. I was literally shocked dumb. Asked where the Putt-Putt course was actually located, the motel manager replied "oh, it's 3 or 4 miles down that way." I still have no clue what these people were doing with their putters, with the course so far away. We finally find a motel, operated by a young czech woman and her creepy American husband, Phil. (Mail-order bride catalogs must also come to White Lake). We pay for two rooms and our czech hostess goes to show me those rooms, to make sure they "met our needs." Honey, all I needed was a bed. Anyway, she unlocks the door to room 4 - there's a bed, bathroom, TV. Looks great, hand over the keys already! She tells me "This is what your room will look like." then locks the door again, and keeps walking. HUH!? Czech lady walks down to rooms 15 and 16, starts to give Shelly and I a key, then stops, looks at the keys in her hand, and crosses her arms when giving them to us - giving me the key she had originally handed Shelly. I was soon to find out why. We said our thanks and threw our stuff in the rooms to freshen up before we got some dinner. I begin to notice that my room and most particularly my bed are giving off the stench of cat pee. I consider losing all control and bawling at this point, but I keep it together, comforted by daydreams of the Beer Fairy. The luggage goes on the stinky bed, so I can sleep on the other, stink-less (not stink-free) bed. Shelly and I walk outside and head for dinner country - we find Pizza Hut, who as luck would have it, does actually serve beer. What a relief...! Our waitress comes over and chats us up - "Oh, Virginia - no kidding! Yeah, I used to live up in Chesapeake before I came down here." At this point I start to get a little bit nervous... Does EVERYONE in North Carolina's food industry hail from Chesapeake? Trying to get my rapidly widening eyes back to a normal level, I reply - a quiver in my voice - "Oh yeah, we just drove through there..." and take a swig. White Lake Motor Hotel/Animal Depository Shelly and I spend the rest of the night sitting outside our hotel rooms, in plastic lawn chairs, basically staring at a big dumpster all night. Neither of us are particularly excited by hitting the hay, nor are we thrilled to currently be the subjects of the Norman Rockwell painting "White Trash Vacation." I get up to throw a bottle into the dumpster, when I notice a long hose sticking out of the top of the dumpster. Oh, wait, hey, it's a 4 foot long snake! Sticking right out of my dumpster, how 'bout that! Given that its head was actually stuck (likely crushed) under the top door of the dumpster, I didn't get a chance to see if it was still alive. I'm assuming a big N-O on that one. I walk back to my chair and Shelly whispers "Oh my god!" I reply to her "yeah, that was a pretty big snake, huh?" "Snake?!" she counters, "No, there's a big frog hopping over there!" Sure enough, our boy the frog was hopping to the beat that Saturday night - slowly making his way over to Shelly's chair. Being much more scared of a bullfrog than a dead snake hanging from the dumpster, Shelly jumps from her chair as it hops closer. I walk over and make as if I'm going to pick it up... "No!! Don't touch it!!" I laugh out loud, and she firmly informs me "that's it, I'm going to bed!" SLAM! goes the door. I have no other choice but to turn in as well, to my cat-pee sanctuary. Morning. The next morning (thank goodness for cell-phone alarms, as our motel was sorely lacking in the alarm CLOCK department), we head back to the campgrounds. A few hours later, I make the executive decision not to head all the way to the finish line (which is still, remember, 70 miles away from us, in Wilmington, NC). We just can't make it back in a reasonable amount of time - we're now over 6 hours from DC, and we'd originally planned on a smooth 4 hour trip to Raleigh and back. Get in the van - the road home. Hop back in the car as we try to figure out how in the sam hill to get home... Shelly is exhausted, I'm exhausted, and I'm going as fast as I possibly can to make it back home... 7 1/2 hours later, at 6pm, we make it back to the office. Shelly bolts from my car with more speed than I've ever seen a human move - dives through the window of her car, and is gone in a cloud of smoke before I've got my van in park! I call Monika: "I'm coming home. Be there in 20 minutes... Boy, have I got a story for you..." Posted by sarcophage @ 3:26:00 PM Add or check out a |
|
|
||
|
||
|
||
