Congrats to Albert of philly, who scored credentials for the Philly Live 8 performance. I know he'll do the Philly blogging community proud. And his event photos will be fantastic.
Google Earth combines the already nifty Google Maps and satellite technology to let you take a look at anywhere in the world. Nothing will make you feel like a plotting supervillan faster (or give you a more comprehensive look at how many Starbucks locations are in your neighborhood.)
As many of you've probably heard, there's a little concert that will be taking place this weekend - here in Philly and in many other places around the world. For free.
If you live in Philadelphia, you're aware of the burgeoning traffic nightmares, the logistical drama, and the fear that the city area is going to collapse under the weight of the 2 million concert-goers who are projected to flood the Parkway. Which is a pity, really, since it's overshadowing the actual purpose of the event - which is raise awareness about poverty (and not about any organizational shortcomings our local government might suffer). The idea is that the more Bob Geldof and company can get people to stand up and take notice - the more likely the people in power will be to take action.
Growing up Philadelphian, I can still remember Live Aid - Geldof's previous multi-national, political musical effort, which targeted the famine in Africa. Or rather, I remember doing frustrated laps at the local swimmeet while I listened to the concert on someone's boombox radio, angry that my parents would not let me attend what I was sure would be the seminal musical experience of my young life. Sure - they were worried about my safety, my comfort and the sheer crush of people who were coming out to celebrate. I didn't understand the safety concerns, or care about the lack of appropriate restroom facilities, or the fact that people were passing out from the heat at
Veteran's JFK Stadium (thanks for the correction, Alex! AND for rubbing in the fact that you attended! :p) while I was cool in the pool. All I understood was that this event - this event that the whole city - the whole *world* was talking about was taking place in my hometown - and I couldn't go.
Needless to say, I survived the infraction. Live Aid went on without me, and rocked both sides of the Atlantic. Well, I'm a grown-up now - the concert is in walking distance and my weekend is free. Now all I need to do is decide whether or not seeing Stevie Wonder and Def Leppard is reason enough to risk my safety, my comfort, and the sheer number of people who are coming out to rock the Parkway.
The thing about Live 8 is that it's a global cause; I like that. I feel as humans we should have more of those. I see no reason for the world not to be a much smaller place.
Pittsburgh's Safar Centre for Resuscitation Research recipe for creating zombie dogs:
- Get some dogs
- Replace their blood with a cold salt solution
- Leave them clinically dead (without breathing brain activity, heartbeat or - oh yeah, their blood) for three hours
- Replace their blood
- Give 'em an electro shock
- Behold your pack of reanimated dogs, completely normal, and with no brain damage.
- Decide that this act paves ".. the way for trials on humans within years."
- Completely and totally freak Sarcasmo out.
Zombies bad. Eat brains. I know...movies and books have told me so, and they would never lie to me.
- Monday Morning Quiz: Find it in the usual place. (Personally, I've always felt that Dream a Little Dream was under-rated.)
- Lightning Bolts Do Make Things Look Superheroish - If You Are the Flash: An Open Letter to the Human Resources Department of the Superfriends. I can only hope, once he receives his "We'll keep your resume on file" letter that Dr. Ng will follow-up with the Legion of Doom. - [WW]
- Wilde Dance Remix: I've been developing a growing interest in mashups lately (I particularly like The Kleptones A Night at the Hip-Hopera) -so you can imagine my confused delight upon discovering Penguin Books is currently running a contest called Penguins Remixed, challenging musicians to make a digital music track which incorporates samples from Penguin's audio book library. Here are some of my favorites so far. I do wish they had a way to search for songs by book sample, though. -[SM]
- And This Is Why I Never Throw Proper Dinner Parties: Figuring out an appropriate seating order is just too difficult. (Well, ok, and also, I can't cook.) - [D]
- The Horror - Instan-taneous: Ridiculous, earworm-inducing video of the day - The Anti-Pope. (pssst...Cyn...how'd you end up in this video?) If the video somehow isn't enough, you can download an MP3 here. - [SH]
- Stella Artois, The Beer for the German Expressionist in All of Us: I dig this commercial. I never knew drinking beer could have such...interesting side-effects. - [SH]
I'll admit, the image examples they provide, although "recognizable," are fuzzy at best, but surely by now they've developed more sophisticated algorithims2; and my science fiction-addled brain is already extrapolating the applications.
Obviously, there is the forensic usage - it brings a whole new meaning to the term "eye witness." Lie detector tests would become superfluous. Private detectives would probably find themselves out of jobs.
However, I think the true end to this research will be in its commercial applications. Imagine if you could, any time you wish, replay your favorite memories as easily as playing your favorite film. Watching someone blush just because you smiled at them; the giddy thrill of your first illict cigarette; an afternoon you spent watching a powerful thunderstorm while safely holed up in your favorite place; a world-altering brush with celebrity; that single, perfect day where nothing in particular happened but you just felt wonderfully, gloriously happy with the world. We'd no longer need cameras or diaries or even blogs. Just a quick rundown to the Brain-Dump-o-Rama, and there it would be - Your Life - vols 1-32 on glorious, copyright protected DVD.
Of course, since this seems to work on a cellular level, and cells die off with some regularity3, visits to the Brain-Dump-o-Rama would need to be fairly regular. Parents would probably start bringing their children at least once a week starting at birth, so as not to miss one single moment.
And why stop there - celebrities, exhibitionists, and even your everyday Joe Schmo could sell his life for the enjoyment of others. Behold - the most well-documented generation ever! Imagine - watching the "Aha!" moment of scientific discovery *literally* through the eyes of the men and women making it happen; exploring the newfound reaches of space as though you were one of the crew; even witnessing first hand the horror of war and destruction. The classrooms would never be the same again.
But what would we do, do you think, with the part of the brain we would no longer need for remembering? When I was a kid, my friends called me "Wonder Number," because I could recite anyone's phone number off the top of my head without needing to think about it. These days my cellphone does all the remembering for me. I don't know the phone numbers of my closest friends; truth be told I barely know my own. I don't need to. My brain's made other use of that space now. I think it may be alloted to recalling dorky comic book trivia.4
Of course, as fascinated as I am by this development, I also fear it - that is to say, I fear what humans might do with it. I can live with the possibility that we might cast off our digital cameras - or even that our cultural obsession with voyeurism would reach terrifying new heights5; but what worries me is our potential to become complacent, and lazy with our lives. Why bother creating new experiences when you've got a library full which you can have with total recall anytime you wish? Why search forever for happiness when you'll always have the fleeting glory of your Golden Moment. We could run the risk of becoming hermitic, sleepy creatures, eyes glued to our past selves as we let the future slip away.
And even worse - we'd lose the compassion of time; no longer could we have the luxury of remembering things how we wanted them to be - but only in the stark cold reality of how they were. I like to believe that I embrace the truth of my life - revelling in the imperfections that make it real rather than fiction. I don't kid myself that my very first kiss was romantic (it was sloppy and awful and during a game of truth-or-dare), that I ever knocked a ball out of the park to win the game (gangly and uncoordinated, I spent most games benched), or that I was ever once witty in the presence of someone I wanted to impress (seriously). I believe it is our faults that make up a large part of who we are, and that life without them would be very boring indeed.
Still, I know there are times in my life about which I've wrapped a gauzy blanket, editing out the less perfect befores and afters so those simple, static moments can still make me smile just to think of them. There's a romance in that I'd be loathe to lose.
Maybe the real commercial opportunity here would be in Life Editing Services - dedicated to making your life what you always wished it would be. They'd airbrush out your blemishes; re-loop your staid, uninspired dialouge with something punchy and perfect; and for an extra fee, rotoscope in the friends, partner, or celebrity of your choice into your life. It'd be an sure money maker.
How depressing. I suddenly feel the need to go and do something phenomenally ridiculous and memorably stupid so that I can laugh myself silly when I am old and gray and full of sleep.
1 Oh dear - has the world secretly been watching videos from my brain all these years? Seriously? You must be bored silly.
2 And other science-y terms with which I have only a passing comprehension.
3 I think.
4 No, really. Did *you* spot Batgirl in Batman Begins - cause I did. Big dork, me.
5 Just imagine what this would do to the reality tv industry.
Doesn't it just figure; I finally get my internet access back1, and I find myself without anything to say. I'm going to chalk this case of Blogger's Block up to adjusting to my new digs; my involvement in a new project2 which is taking up valuable brain cycles; and that fact that sleep apparently is where I'm a viking, since I woke up with a neck crick that's so bad I could have only gotten it raiding innocent villagers.
Actually, I do have one thing to say: "Thank you, Batman Begins." Not only were you an enjoyable, action-packed movie with a phenomenal cast that treated the Batman movie franchise with the dark edge it has longed cried out for - but you have also taken my longstanding mini-crushes on both the caped crusader3 and Christian Bale, merging them into an all-powerful, mammoth uber-crush. Holy Hotness, Batman!
I could wax lyrically about the movie all day (Batman! Ninjas! Swords! All it lacked was pirates and monkeys to make it the perfect movie for me) but I realize I'd be boring everybody but me. So instead, here's the Friday goods:
- Apparently, Having Three Eyes Doesn't Make You Any More Observant: No. 5, Part 1 is a cute, click-the-right-place puzzle game. It's not as challenging as, say, the Hapland puzzles, but it's not likely to make you want to pluck your eyes out either. -[SH]
- Two Creepy Tastes That Sounds Eerie Together: Christopher Walken reads The Raven. - [I4M]
- I'm Not Even Canadian, And I'm Excited About This: Apparently, Rick Mercer has a blog. I'm familiar with him because of Made in Canada (which ran in the US as The Industry and was absolutely genius) - and I wish someone stateside would show Monday Report. I'm looking your way, PBS.
- If You Could 'Chat Up' Anyone in History, Who Would It Be?: Meet Chatty, a friendly, yet creepy mannequin whose face is a DVD projector, which can be programmed to allow users to "chat" with virtually anyone they like. Apparently, recording will be made of living people - and anyone who has already passed on (the article mentions Cleopatra), will be reconstructed with CGI. I've been trying to think, if I got one of these - who would I want to pretend talk to? Leslie Howard (my latest GAoH boyfriend, thanks to The Petrified Forest)? A Caesar? Mark Twain? Vlad Tpses? One of the Medici's? Blackbeard? And more importantly - which would be creepier - being home alone with Chatty while it's on, or while it's faceless and off? - [WE]
- I'm Stuck Between 'Nervous' and 'Excited': What can one say about the films of Takashi Miike, other than each and every one is an experience unto itself. Do not misunderstand me, I've enjoyed every one of his films that I've seen, 4 but sometimes they hurt me a little deep down in my soul. Which is why I'm particularly intrigued by the trailer for Yôkai daisensô, which appears to be a fantasy offering from Miike...for children. I can not even begin to imagine what this movie will be like. (I wonder if I can pre-order my tickets while it's still in post-production?) - [MonFi]
1And about time too. I was beginning to feel like I had lost a limb; a feeling which makes me more than a little concerned about how much time I have been spending online. I think I need some outside hobbies.
2More on this at a later date. And yes, of course it's an online project. Golly. I really do need to find some outside hobbies.
3Yes, I'm aware he's fictional, but I can't help the way that I feel. Shame on you for being so judgemental. You needn't worry unless I start running about in elaborate costumes, or make repeated efforts at escaping Arkham.
4 With the possible exception of Gozu, which I have yet to see in its entirety.
An elementary school student received a one-day suspension for invoking his own version of the Pledge of Allegiance. I have to say, I'm totally with the Mother on this one...and not just because I like Star Trek.
MSN has a ridiculous artile on "The 10 things Every Single Girl Should Have." Thankfully, there are sassy ladies like The Pink Haired Girl around to take them to task.
Personally, I don't go for the kind of stereo-typical guys this article seems to want to help gals ensnare. And even if I did - I couldn't be bothered to redecorate my home to their tastes.1 Love me, love my McFarlane Movie Maniacs, I say.
1 You know what home interior design panic I had this morning while I was brushing my teeth? I couldn't remember where my pirate hat had landed after the move. As it happens, it's in the closet. I'm debating whether to keep it there or to hang it on the bedpost. These are my dilemas. I don't think MSN is in anyway prepared to deal with me.
My connectivity issues continue. This is a test post from my phone.
I love the Free Library of Philadelphia's Central Branch. It's near the lovely Logan Circle Fountain, the Shakespeare Memorial (one of my favorite Philly statue's) sits out front, it's full of books, and tonight - it also hosted Bruce Campbell.
I know he's not Hollywood handsome; but there's just something about arrogant, funny men with great smiles1 that I find terribly endearing.
Campbell was at the library to promote his book "Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way," and to screen his movie, "The Man with the Screaming Brain."
I am happy to say that he was very amusing during the Q&A portion of the evening, and that I managed to make it through the book signing without collapsing into complete fangirl mode. (although it wasn't easy, believe me)
I am sorry to say that "The Man with the Screaming Brain" will be on SciFi channel later this year - and it's just about on par with their normal offerings. It was a fun movie, don't get me wrong - but it was not a good movie.
Thanks to Yags for the heads up on this event - and the company.
1who fight zombies with chainsaws and witty one-liners
Well - her blog does, anyway.
Some of you may recall that when my previous hosting company went belly-up last year - they took Sarcasmom's domain name with them.
Sarcasmom's patience has paid off - and we were able to get the domain name back when it went up for renewal. So once again you can find Wednedays Off at http://www.wedsoff.com/. (Atom feed is available here.)
The move went surprisingly well; the weather was cool, movers came early, and all was over and one within 3 hours time. It was like the Moving Gods read my blog, and listened! I can only assume they considered the many times I inadvertantly taped myself to the floor while packing a suitable sacrifice. (It's a scientific fact that no matter where you put down a stray piece of packing tape, it will find it's way to your posterior...which you won't notice until you try to stand up).
On the downside...despite all the help Sarcasmom and Sarcasdad gave me in getting computer and computer desk to the apartment early and despite the fact I got up at the crack out dawn Thursday morning (after a wild evening of dancing* and birthday karoke to celebrate my, babyraven, vis major and macgrrl's birthdays) to meet the installer...my internet service is not working. Something to do with "transfers" and "modem registration" and "database errors." This has left me very frustrated...and with a continued lapse in my regular blogging ability.
Till I can get online proper (they're telling me it'll be at least 72 hours)...you can check out these links:
- Monday Morning Quiz: Natch.
- Spoiler-ific: Super cute (and funny) Episode III based comic, The Dark Side is the Best Sauce.
- Another Piece of My Childhood Destroyed (In an Amusing Way): Rejected 'Love Is' Comics. (Blame Vis Major.)
Me? I've just reinstalled The Sims 2.2. Someone may have to call me and remind me to step away from the computer every once in awhile.
1Yes, I did dance to a karoke version of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing', and no, I won't apologize for it.
2Speaking of which - does anyone know what setting I have to change to stop my cut scenes from behaving strangely? I get mostly a blank screen and only a corner of animation.
The moving men are currently playing tetris with my belongings...and I
think they are becoming intimately aware of my problems with estimating
I think I might be trapped here on my bed by the time they finish.
Trotwood and I preparing to relocate to our new lair. This means that although I will be continually available via email, blogging will be light-to-nil over te next few days. Once I'm set up and my Internet access is restored, I will regale you with amusing moving ancedotes.
Actually, I take that back, because "amusing moving ancedotes" would require a number of mishaps and disasters during my move, and that's not the way I am hoping things will go. In fact, in my ideal world, my moving ancedote will go like this:
Once upon a time, before she became Ultimate Ruler of the Universe, Sarcasmo (along with her faithful robot minion, Trotwood) found it necessary to relocate. When it came time to relocate her belongings, something woundrous happened. As though by enchantment, the boxes which held all she owned became light as feathers and easily manageable - and the terrible, hideous humidity and heat that had been plaguing her city gave way to clear skies and cool breezes.
In fact, the move was went so quickly and efficiently, and was such a joy to perform, that the movers did not even charge her the full two-hour minimum - especially since it took less than half that time to perform, from start to finish - despite the four flights of rickety stairs they had to manuouever.
Invigorated by the rapid move, Sarcasmo unpacked and put away all the items that made her apartment a home, flattening and disposing of all the boxes before sundown on her moving day - allowing her to spend the remainder of her first weekend in her new home relaxing with her robot companion. The End
Alas - as I picked up the keys to the new place today only to discover that they don't work - I'm not too hopeful about the above scenario.
Dan from GussetBLOG tagged me with this Super Hero meme...and I was too dorky to resist:
If you could have one superpower, what would it be and why? (Assume you also get baseline superhero enhancements like moderately increased strength, endurance and agility.)
The power of Extreme Sarcasm. My bon mots would be so sharp and accurate, my glance so withering, that villains would tremble and weep in my wake. Just hearing my name would send them into paroxysms of insecurity, rendering them incapable of performing evil deeds.
Additionally - although I feel no need for the power of flight - but I would like the power to be automatically bumped up to First Class on International Flights.
Which, if any, 'existing' superhero(es) do you fancy, and why?
Duh, Batman. Maybe it's tortured Goth vibe he has going, or his well-honed physique, or even his secret cave full of wonderful, wonderful toys - but mostly, it's just because he's Batman.
I mean, come on. Batman.
Which, if any, 'existing' superhero(es) do you hate?
Looker. There is nothing about her story that I don't find heinously offensive. She is a model. Her super power is being pretty. Well, technically her power is some kind of psychic energy, but judging by the fights I've seen her in, she clearly weilds this power with her cleavage. Apparently, she's now part vampire - but even that doesn't make her less irritating to me.
Also, Plastic Man. He's a joke...and the JLA seem to keep him around only for comic relief. They're interstellar superheros for monkeys' sake! Are you telling me they can't afford to fly Eddie Izzard out into space for a gig every once in a while?
Is there an 'existing' superhero with whom you identify/whom you would like to be?
Hrm...not really no. If wouldn't mind picking and choosing traits from various heroes, though, and becoming a sort of super hero chimera: the current Batgirl's fighting prowress; Oracle's (previously Batgirl) technology saavy and smarts; Beast's knowledge and love of books and Green Arrow's sardonic and pragmatic views on life. It suppose that would make me Batorbestarrow.
What would your superhero name be? (No prefab porn-name formulas here, you have to make up the name you think you'd be proud to mask under.)
Actually, Sarcasmo *is* my super hero name. My former partner-in-crime (err...heroism I mean. partner-in-heroism), and I devised the nicknames Sarcasmo and Pop Culture Boy for each other's super hero identities. The surly duo lived in an abandoned, delapidated manor outside of a major metropolitan area, having picked it up quite cheaply at auction after the previous owner was incarcerated for breaking and entering, vigilantism, flying without a liscene in FCC airspace, driving a non-street legal vehicle and numerous account of reckless endangerment of the life of a minor. They didn't fight crime so much as they irritated it - generally through dispensing witty criticism and inane triva; as well as through marked indifference (say what you will, but ignoring a super villain's stunts strip them of all their power).
Pop Culture Boy has since gone the way of Nightwing - so I suppose I'll have to rouse myself one of these days and find a new sidekick. Until then, I've got the manor to myself; And all it's wonderful toys.
Consider yourselves ALL tagged...we can start our own Legion of Heroes. Then - you know - defeat the Legion of Doom and steal their cool hideout for our own.
Abbreviated linkage today - partially because I've had a wonderfully, busy weekend, am I'm exhausted to the marrow of my bones and therefore subsequently too lazy to stay up all night mining the Internets for silly flash games for y'all to play instead of doing your jobs or chores or whatever. I'm sure I'll be repentent about this once I'm somewhere with an airconditioner and a brimming full coffee pot; but for now, not so much.
However, this does not mean I'm prepared to leave you without distraction - far from it. In fact, I'd like to encourage all of you to take your goof-off time to check out the Tiny Stories call for submissions:
Write a 100-word short-short story. Don’t use the same word twice (OK, we make an exception for contractions if you really really really have to, so don’t is don’t and do not is do not, but don't abuse this as a cheat too much -- see if you can work around it). This time we want the project to have a theme. Given that these are tiny stories, we want them to be ABOUT tiny things. Lisa and I have found so many different ways to explain what we are looking for, I’ll say it a bunch of different ways:
Little stories that are larger on the inside than they appear on the outside.
Stories that leave an aftertaste, that linger.
Special nod to stories that include elements of the fantastic.
Little things with big effects: lost keys, a scrap of paper, a chink in the armor, a missing screw.
The inexplicable in the definable, the fantasy in the reality, the uncommon in the everyday, that something under the surface.
The secret little things….
Now don’t let that constrain you – let it set you on your way…
Submissions are due by August 5th, and selected entries will be illustrated by Lisa Snellings Clark (I actually find this call for submissions through her site, which I started reading because I am such a Gaiman fangirl), with an aim towards publishing the collection and donating some of the proceeds to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund. I know for a fact that several of you are writers and/or comic book fans. I believe you're all up to the challenge.
For those of you who are not interested (or who can just whip off a 100-word story about small things using no duplicate words very quickly) here are at least a couple of links for you to pass the time:
- Monday Morning Quiz: Here.
- Ummm..No Thanks: Play With Me is a very disturbing, interactive video. Believe me - it never ends well. And it is wrong. Very, very wrong. - [F]
...that right now there are pictures of Skeletor singing trapped in my cellphone. They are trapped there because my USB cord has already been packed away, and it's just too hot for me to unseal and dig through all those boxes.
Skeletor is actually the second cartoon-star-turned-singer act I've seen - having caught The Teenager Mutant Ninja Turtles in concert back in their heyday. I can only wonder what cartoon-come-lately will catch cabaret fever next. I bet Scooby and the Gang would put on a killer act.
I plan to be offline tomorrow and most of the weekend (startling, but true) so I thought I'd give you the goof-off goodness a day early.
- Clang Clang: A cute, chibi-style, animated video for that catchy Beatles ditty about a hammer wielding serial killer.
- Your Face Implodes: In response to my recent post about the sad passing of the Super 8 camera, Peccable was kind enough to point me towards this fantastic video for TMBG's My Experimental Film - featuring the cast of Homestar Runner. (My film wouldn't be quite so Bergman, though.)
- Ninjas Fight! Some friends of mine have resurrected the age old question of superiority: Ninjas or Pirates? (Pirates. Duh.) Lest anyone fear, I'm not posting Return of the Ninja Droids [MV] because I've changed sides; I'm still firmly in the pirate camp. It's just this video is full of 8-bitty goodness and Daleks - and even my pirate blood couldn't resist. To equal the playing field, I'm also going to link to this pirate fort, in which I'd like to live. -[gab]
- Can You Guess?: An addictive little game that asks you to identify a movie by a single frame. I'm not too bad at this one - but it helps that it's multiple choice. I got more correct answers by knowing what movies it wasn't than recognizing the film straight off. - [nb]
- Where's Deep Thought To Help Me Figure Out What I'm Meant to Be Doing? 42 Games is a collection of mini-games (loosely) connected to Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. -[I4M]
Like many mammals, I like to mark my territory as my own. I realize there are some universally accepted ways to do this - but I prefer decoration to other, er.. messier options. And I am moving next week, I have some interior design decisions to make. I will, no doubt, be spending the first month or so decorating my abode in "Half-unpacked cardboard box chic;" but eventually I'll get off my lazy duff and put everything away so I can live like a pretend grown-up.
My new apartment is an efficiency - and being efficient, most of the wall space is taken up by pesky things like "closets" and "appliances" and "windows". However - there is some space above the mantle of the decorative fireplace which is free for my expressive purposes. In fact, this wall is situated directly across from the front door. Since what I put here will essentially be the first thing people see when they come in, I'd like to make it something special.
I had been busy considering art options when I discovered Wonderful Graffiti on Apartment Therapy. These thin, peel and stick vinyl letters are seriously making me consider using words as art1; and since they are temporary, I can change them whenever I like.
I am considering "Welcome to my house! Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring!"1 I always planned to have this as a needlepoint in my house someday (if I ever learn needlepoint); both because I like the message and because it is the welcome Dracula gives Jonathan Harker, which gives it that touch of insidious darkness of which I am so fond.
My only fear is that if I do this and like it, I may feel compelled to fill all my blank spaces with the words and phrases the resonate with me. Soon there would be letters running along doorjambs and darting across the celing; winding their way around windows and mirrors; and running like ants along the floor. Having a home so decorated by words sounds delightful to me, actually- but I fear in practice I would appear to have gone the way of so many Lovecraftian protagonists; and things never end well for them.
1Actually, I often think about using words as art - but my handwriting is atrocious - so would appear more abstract than I intended.
2 Also up for consideration are "Pedo mellon a minno," "All hope abandon, ye who enter here," & "Sarcasmo's Minion Army - Join Now! Ask me how!"
It was bound to happen, I suppose. TV producers have finally run out of competitive reality-show ideas - and so have resorted to making a competitive reality show about people who want to be on reality shows. From the press release:
Judges will pick from the pool of entrants and come up with a dozen finalists who will – with the help of the network’s crew – shoot enough footage to make several short episodes.
The finalists will then screen their episode in front of a panel of judges and America will decide which episodes they want to see more of.
Each week a show will be “canceled” until only one remains a la American Idol, earning the winner their own six-episode TV series, which is scheduled to air in the fall.
When Andy Warhol said everyone would have their 15 minutes...I'm not entirely sure this is what he had in mind.
I can't believe no one has volunteered to go and see Skeletor sing with me.
I'm very disappointed in you all.
- Monday Morning Quiz: Here.
- The Boogie is Strong in This One: I have to admit, having seen Sith I am more or less over my Star Wars franchise buzz - but apparently the Internet's love for all things from long ago and far away is still strong. So, if you still feel compelled to rock out Star Wars style, you can check out Darth Vader on the turntables -[lf] or sing along to The Jedi Song. - [MV] La la lalala laa .
- Clearly I'm Not Keeping Up to Date with Defamer: If I was, I'm sure I'd have scored much better on the Celebrity Lovechild Quiz. - [JWB]
- Well, Color Me Bedazzled: What I always thought was a fashion faux pas is apparently a secret ruse for ultimate, mind-controlling power. Gem Sweater
- By The Power of...Sunshine! Sadly, I didn't find out until too late that Skeletor (yes, that Skeletor) peformed a cabaret act in town last week. (It's good to know he's got a gig now that The Masters of the Universe is off the air - afterall I assume Castle Greyskull is terribly expensive to keep up). However, a local fellow who did see the show (lucky) pointed me to this video of Skeletor performing, which I just had to share with y'all. (Update: A quick email tells me that said enemy of He-Man will be playing at Abilene's this Thursday night at 10pm. I feel compelled to go. Let me know if you want to tag along.)
Today I whilst I packed I watched VH1's Kept, and I wondered, "Where is all the accompanying indignance and outrage?" After all, if, say, it were Mick Jagger auditioning, altering and humiliating women for his own amusement, there would be legions of women complaining about how the media is objectifying the gender and treating them as chattel. There doesn't seem to be any uproar about this show, where the boy-toys-in-training are most assuredly being treated as chattel. And don't try and give me the balance of power argument either-'cause people is people and chattel is chattel and never the twain should meet.
I'm not complaining, mind you. The way I see it, these men signed up for the show willingly, and are most likely using it as a springboard to fame and fortune in either the acting or modeling arenas. Plus these men are oh-so-pretty. So - it's not so much the objectification I object to - as the societal double standard. At least that's what I tell myself when I am glued to the tv watching them strut the catwalk in naught but their Calvin Kleins'.
To make matters ethically worse, a to-remain-nameless partner-in-crime and I were taught this weekend by former female bartenders that on certain nights of the week - as part of some sort of cosmic retribution - it is perfectly acceptable, nay!, even desireable to treat male bartenders as sex-objects. These fine mentors taught us that a dropped lighter, a request for booty-shaking - or a well-tossed quarter to the bartender's bottom can lead to extended attention, free-drinks, and a quick road to a first-name-basis relationship with your pirate-dressing, eyeglass-wearing bartender who is also a painter and who plays the guitair. MMmmmm...Pirate Bartender.
This was not a proud road - but a fun one.... and tomorrow I'll have just the hangover to prove it. That'll teach me for objectifying my fellow humans and for drinking on a school night. Bad, bad Sarcasmo. Quit your rambling and get on to the links:
While admonishing me for failing to post this week's Monday Morning Madness, Grant postulated that, in honor of the upcoming anniversary of my birth, I was forgoing my responsibilities and declaring June "The Month of Sarcasmo."
The Month of Sarcasmo; I must admit I like the sound of that. I'm not sure what it would entail, exactly, but I imagine there would be parades; the erection of several statues portraying my noble visage; the dedication of numerous library wings bearing my name; the presentation of many keys to many cities, for which I would require a large, jewel encrusted keyring; and the formal pledge of allegiance to me in the form of demense, servitude, cheese and shiny gadgets.
Alas - since Grant didn't put this thought into my mind until June had already begun, I have not had the time to make the necessary plans, nor to acquire the appropriate permits or achieve ultimate power. (I shall have to be more proactive next year.) So, in lieu of the aforementioned celebration, I am grabbing the following meme from Mac - and invite you all to have at it in the comments:
I ____ Sarcasmo.
Sarcasmo is ____.
Sarcasmo thinks a lot about _______.
When I think of _________, I think of Sarcasmo.
If I were alone in a room with Sarcasmo, I would _______.
I think Sarcasmo should _____.
Sarcasmo needs ______.
I want to ____________ Sarcasmo.
If I could describe Sarcasmo in a word: _______.
You are, of course, free to bury me rather than praise me...after all, I have no discernable power with which to strike back. However, I feel it only fair to warn you that when I do achieve Complete and Utter World Domination, my vengenace shall not be swift. In fact, it will be slow and lingering and needlessly elaborate .
I'm just saying.
- Juuuuuuicy: I have no idea what it is that's making that crow dance and cry with desire in these strangely compelling animated ads from Japan...but I think I want one (or some...whichever is appropriate). [wmmna]
- Carry Moonbeams Home in a Jar: Pocketful of Stars is another lovely game from Orisinal; and as usual it's beautiful, relaxing and strangely frustrating. - [iab].
- Reveal Your Secrets!: Sadly, this is a fairly good depicition of my internal monolouge when checking my morning email (especially if I'm on my second cup of coffee). Inappropirately funny, and possibly not worksafe.
- Busy...Or At Least Creative?: Then tell Kate and Haje (who have never met) why you can't attend their make-believe wedding. I've not RSVPed yet, but I think I shall...after all, it's only polite. - [MF]
- For the Gamers Something Awful offers In Game Advertising - and some mighty fine ones too. Also
- Sure, It's A One Trick Pony...Er..Zombie: And yet, I giggle at each and every new post from Zombie Eat Brains. Zombies are funny (so long as the brains they are eating are not mine.) - [O]
- I Want Her Dress: The Blue Man Group feels love. - [MV]
Dear Science Folks:
I appreciate the need to push the boundries of our understanding of ourselves and the universe we inhabit, I truly do. After all, we can't stand on the shoulders of giants forever; sometimes we have to be the giants themselves.
Still, I have made no secret of the fact that I am oft concerned that you go headlong into these experiments without considering the consequences of your discoveries.
And I'd just like to point out that any time the results from your research cause you remark "Our results have implications for the idea of free will," then you might want to be concerned too.
Hugs and Kisses,
PS: Please keep your Insta-Trust Potion outta my nasal cavaties. Thanks oodles.
Part The First: Super 8 Was Great
I've mentioned here before that I like movies; can't get enough of them.1 What you may not know is that; despite my palm-treeless, East Coast upbringing, I've long harbored the desire to work in the film industry.
Being patentedly too shy to stand in-front of the camera - my Tinsel Town fantasies were of the shadowy places behind the camera, of me standing in soundbooths, or in front of green screens - turning dreams into a ninety-minute to two-hour reality.
Not being a particularly focused individual, my desires took me all over the backlot. My movie ambitions include my becoming: a scream queen2, a Foley artist3, a make-up artist4, a creature creator, a special-effects technician...and...what every film fantatic really wants to be, a director. And it is because of the later desire than I was especially sad to hear that Super 8 film was no longer being made.
The Super 8 is the film of the Indie director; the Super 8 camera the window-to-the-world every modern Big Budget director reminices about having as a kid, when he or she would make rollicking, ridiculous adventure movies with their siblings/friends/pets in their parents' back yards. I have often mulled about getting a Super 8 myself; handling them reverently and longingly when I stumbled across them at flea markets and antique dealers. I'd lift the camera of, feel it's heft in my hands, peer at my shopping companion through the little window, and then try to frame the chaotic world around me in a way that was exciting, moving, or at the very least made some semblence of sense. Then inevtiably whomever I was with at the time would blot out the world by pressing their now giant eye against the view window and ask me, "So, you gonna get it?" And I'd think about it. Then I'd look at the camera, shrug, and put it down, making feeble excuses about how difficult it was these days to find places that would develop Super 8 film - and how expensive it was to have it done. But the truth was, each time I stood there, camera in hand, I had to face the fact that I had no story to tell. Well, that is to say that I have lots of stories to tell - but none I could confine in those flickering lights and rectangular boundries; my storytelling genes simply don't work that way.
Still - it was a nice daydream - and I'm more than a bit sad that it's gone. I suppose now I'll have to redirect my film fantasies to the pristine world of Digital Video - and imagine myself adding the requisite scratches, bumps and shakes during the post-production process of my first, fictional feature.
Part the Second: Love in the Lobby
I love to do things online: write, shop, read the news, complain about my spirtiual ennui, register my general disgust and...as anyone who has perused my mammoth Netflix list knows...select and order movies5. Doing things online is ideal for me because (a) I can do them on my whim and at my own convenience, which is generally quite late at night (b) it let's me bypass the whole irritating "other people factor" which I find so disturbing when performing these duties in the actual world (c) I can do it in my pajamas.
What I do not like to do online: date. To me, dating is the diametric to the online experience. For starters - it rather prominently features "the other people" factor. And secondly, it really shouldn't be done late at night and in one's pajamas6. Besides which, I'm stymied by the whole idea of browsing for companions online; it's counter-intuitive. I've yet to find a profile that has left me stammering, blushing, and grinning goofily despite a belly full of butterflies. Even though I am generally won over by the personalities of men (In my world , smart, funny and geeky=sexy) - I still view dating as a visceral (rather than intellecutal) pursuit.
Plus - online dating just scares the bejesus out of me7.
Who am I kidding - after being loosed from a ten-year relationship, the idea of dating at all scares the bejesus out of me8.
And yet despite these obvious, emotional roadblocks, I was intrigued when Cinematical suggested that there might be a way to combine online movie browsing with boyfriend browsing . Could my love for movies be the way to find love everlasting- or at least a partner willing to go see the kinds of movies I like to see? Someone who wouldn't blink when I wanted to spend the afternoon watching Doris Day movies (that really should offend me as a woman, but somehow don't); and then turn around and insist we spend the evening with my friends, eating pizza and laughing during a 70's horror gore fest? Someone who would not laugh at me while I wept openly at the end of Pollyanna, even though I was cheering my way through Freddy vs. Jason just hours before? Someone who would never reveal the fact that not only did I shamefully watch the last hour of Shallow Hal9on cable - but that I found some parts funny. And even worse, that one of the main characters gave a speech that was nearly word-for-word my own inner monolouge, and that it nearly sent me into fits because I was being torn assunder by a Farrelly Brothers' movie? And knowing this about me, could he love me anyway? And would he know to take me to the Akira Kurosawa film- festival the next weekend (and not whatever Meg Ryan I'm-adorable-but-lost chickflick is currently out) to make me feel better? And would he still share my popcorn if it turned out I did like the chickflick a little bit afterall? Someone who would never question my need to see the original version of a film before the English-language remake - and who would always, always choose the letterboxed and / or subtitled edition of a film over the dubbed Pan and Scan - without questioning why.
Ok - so maybe the myriad of movie types I enjoy are not the best way advertisement for my character. And afterall - my ex and I had lots in common - and yet I couldn't get him near most horror films; he found them scary10. Still - if I could find a guy who saw no reason not to like both Cary Grant and Hugh Grant; who could understand how I could love samurai movies but have no patience for westerns, and who doesn't mind that some of my home interior decorating has been largely inspired by Hammer Horror films - surely we'd have to be a little compatible in some way? And maybe in that moment where I grab his arm while rewatching A Tale of Two Sisters I'd feel that little spark; and after the movie is over, and he's argued with me about how it's a great movie despite my complaints about all the loose ends it leaves he'd admit he found it cute that I could so vehemently contradict myself- and let loose the butterflies?
Surely this is not entirely outside the realm of possibility.
And so I considered it, I truly did. And had I not seen today's follow-up that such a dating service already existed, I might have submitted my name, to. However, faced with the reality of the service, I couldn't even click the link. My brain went thinking about this as movie-based social experiment to FULL ONLINE DATING PANIC ALERT. (What three words would I use to describe myself? How do I send email? What is my name, again?)
Looks like it's just going to be my Netflix, my bowl of popcorn and me for a while yet.
1 In fact, I've recently added a "Movies and TV" category to my sidebar, as I have come to realize many of my "Distractions" are movie-related.
2 Like Jamie Lee Curtis. I realize this is actually an in-front-of-the-camera type job...but what I'd really like to do is just be looped in as the scream - much in the way Kathy Seldon was looped in as the voice of Lina Lamont. I'm pretty sure I've read somewhere that it is someone's job just to do those blood-curdling screams. However - being the tough chick who fights back against the derranged, supernatural serial killer is definitely a screen persona I'd take on. Also - the serial killer. And just about any villain. Villains always seem to have the most fun...and have the best wardrobe.
3This dream was extinguished when I got to participate in a live Foley demonstration at Universal Studios themepark - and discovered I simply do not have the kind of rhythm necessary to time Foley effects accurately. If it were left to me, you'd think the actors walked silently, and their shadows wore heavy, lead-lined boots and stumbled all the time. On the plus side - I once did master twisting celery stalks so that it sounded like bones breaking...and hey - any knowledge is useful .
4In fact, I took a movie make-up effects class at the local art college a few years ago. And whereas I more or less excelled at gore (I can mix up some mean fake blood, and can create some drippingly realistic wounds and bruises) I never could master the more delicate work...or the kind that makes people pretty. Actually - I have this same issue with my everyday makeup as well. I sometimes consider using the skills I picked up in this class to do some creative makeup for work when I feel the longing for some extended "sick" time - but so far I have resisted liquid latex's siren song.
5In fact, if you use Netflix, and you're not my Netflix friend, this is something we should rememdy. I love to peruse other people's lists for ideas.
6Well, not the first date, anyway.
7 Seriously. I half-heartedly signed-up for an online dating service, and then completely freaked out when people actually contacted me through my profile. I panicked - I felt invaded - email suddenly seemed an insurmountable task. Who were these people anyway? And besides, one has to be wary...after all, what sort of people seek romance online? Then I realized...People like me? PEOPLE LIKE ME? Was I prepared to become an amusing bad-date ancedote on someone's blog? What if they said I was awful. Even worse...what if they turned out to be a funnier, wittier, better writer than me? Oh no. Bad idea. VERY bad idea.
8 Besides - I hear celibacy is good for a person. I could save up all that energy - like a warrior or boxer - make myself creative and strong. Or is it that it makes you crazy? I get those confused a lot.
9I was sick, my DVD was over, and the remote control was several feet away - else I never would have watched a movie that preached about "inner beauty" while relying on fat jokes for comedy.
10I do too, actually - but I see that as a positive, not a negative.