Soft n' Wet
Feb 29 2004 - 2:46
p.m.
You know why I don't have comments on this blog? So I never get
into the kind of multi-user shitstorms of the kind currently occuring on the
Blog o' Bex. And
all because she advocated turning Leap Day into a celeberation of the vagina!
Which, if I had one, I'd be doing anyway.
Not that the multi-user shitstorm isn't amusing... in fact it's
rapidly turning this into the best Leap Day ever. But so distracting!
Check me out, I'm blogging like a sonuvabitch today... Must...
turn off... computer..... ughhaahhhh....
It's Hollywood's Big Day! ... ugh.
Feb 29 2004 - 11:12 a.m.
So at long last, I finished Down and Dirty Pictures this
morning, in honour of the Oscars and all. I was quite disappointed. The whole
book is just an endlessly repetitive stream of Evil Harvey stories, over and
over and over again. They forget all about Sundance about halfway through, not
that I minded, because those were all just Evil Bob stories. Unlike Easy
Riders, Raging Bulls (best - book - ever), they don't give me what I
wanted, which was the filmmakers' perspective on the '90s indie revolution. The
only filmmakers who get any real play are Steven Soderbergh and Kevin Smith
(!), the latter of whom gets in the most lucid commentaries in the book.
Otherwise, it's just about how Miramax is bad and Harvey is mean. Which, I
kinda knew already.
I also - finally! - started digitizing and editing
Obstructicron, which might as well be my Schizopolis since it's
basically endless footage of me jerking off. But it could actually end up being
the best movie ever, or at least the movie where I enjoy my own peculiar brand
of humour to the greatest degree. But it's gonna take forever to do, and
will probably end up being like 3 and a half hours long. And this flick ain't
got no hobbits.
Looks like it'll be a nice day; perhaps I shall celebrate this
in my own particular way by going to sit in a darkened movie theatre. Lo, for
those long-ago days when I'd actually endeavour to see everything nominated for
Best Picture.... now, I just want to go see Return of the King for the
fifth time.
Flying Leap
Feb 29 2004 - 8:19
a.m.
Happy Leap Day everyone! I don't think I've ever posted on a
Leap Day before. The last time we had one, I wasn't quite as blog-prolific.
Jesus, I can't believe I've been doing this for four years... Yikes.
I'm betting on Return of the King to win in all but one
of its categories tonight. Actually, that statement is slightly inaccurate: I
don't actually think that's going to happen, but I've adopted the shotgun
strategy for my Oscar pool this year. I figure it'll win in enough of its
categories (except Adapted Screenplay) that it's wise to bet on it in all,
since I can't really decipher which categories it will lose. And, bouyed by the
SAG win, I'm betting on dark horse Captain Jack to take best actor over Penn
and Murray. If ya wants ta win tha gold, ya gots ta take the risks.
In the world o' waiting.... Scholastic isn't expecting the sixth
Harry Potter book to be published until at least next summer, but more
likely summer 2006. Take yer time, I say; it'll be a long time before I can go
through that emotional roller coaster again.
Sabrina, the twentysomething witch (God is a Man)
Feb
28 2004 - 2:06 p.m.
I'm getting scary-good at yoga. I was on some sort of plateau
for most of last year but in January I just jumped up a couple of levels, and
now I'm actually frightening myself with just how bendy I've become. I have
never been able to touch my toes in my entire life but I can do it now. My full
sun salute is actually balanced and graceful for the very first time. I can do
camels without even thinking about it, my eagle pose is the envy of all, and
anything that requires me to grab any other part of myself behind my own back
comes as naturally to me as breathing. And the precision... the fucking
precision! My body has become a weapon. Well, I guess it already was one, if I
was running and you were on the sidewalk and I didn't see you... but now more
so. A weapon of unrelenting machismo and sexual ardour.
Yeah, I'm all kinds of hyper right now. I had brunch before yoga
and came away from the thing so freakin' energetic, I could have done yoga all
day and still not had my fill. I could scale walls right now. In fact....
[tries]
[fails]
...I need a shower.
All kinds of fun you can have while being serviced by a phalanx
of beautiful women
Feb 27 2004 - 4:38
p.m.
God I love that word. Phalanx. That is a fucking word.
That is why English is gooder than all yo' uddah languages put together. I
think I might just like it because the first time I ever heard it used was in
reference to a phalanx of stormtroopers, but still... Mmmmmmm. Cellar-doory
goodness. Maybe I should do it as one of my Unabridged! shorts.
Well anyway. I got my hair cut today. This is blogworthy because
it's the first time I've had my hair professionally cut since I was about 14
years old. Actually that's not true... I suppose my last professional haircut
was probably the day of my senior prom. And we all know how that turned
out.
Yeah, see, when I was a tween, my parents decided to up my
allowance by the exact amount of money it cost for me to get my hair cut every
month, so they wouldn't have to keep taking me themselves. Being a pragmatic
lad even then, I used the first haircut money allotment to buy electric
clippers, and have been buzz-cutting myself pretty much ever since, even though
I no longer receive any allowance from anybody. Somehow I still cackle at the
thought of all that extra money, even though it's long spent.
So my mother, who has long been obsessed with just how poor my
physical appearance tends to be, bought me an appointment at her favourite
salon. Not one to turn down free anything from anybody, I went. Well, getting
your hair cut hasn't changed much since I was a kid. It's still really frickin'
annoying. Not to disparage the various members of that phalanx of beautiful
women who took care of me today, because really, they were all excellent. And
hotties. But good lord in heaven, it's such a meaningless waste of time and
money. Yeah, I like the haircut. But ten minutes with my still-functioning
electric clippers would have yielded virtually identical results. And allowed
me to avoid feeding my newly-rekindled coffee addiction, by not putting me
within striking distance of four Second Cups.
No, I'm just being unrealistic now. The hair looks good. But I
reek of haircare products, the odour of which I remember as being irksome to me
even as a youngster, and hasn't improved since. And two weeks from now, I'll
look exactly the same as I did this morning - too shaggy, in need of a
buzz-cut. Thanks to all who participated, but may it be many, many moons before
I seek professional services again!
It's Monitor Madness!!
Feb 27 2004 - 9:41
a.m.
This is so good, I can't possibly make it big enough to properly
convey its goodness. So I'll settle for a largish 400 pixels:
And in other really really good things, guess what? Robert
Rodriguez is doing Sin City as his next project. Word is, he's even
going to list Miller as co-director, and will be using the graphic novels as
his basic storyboards, translating the visuals as precisely as possible from
page to screen.
Will it work? I dunno. Sin City's perfect comic book, but
that don't make it perfect movie. Still, at the very least, it's gonna be
interesting...
"I Been Bamboozled...!"
Feb 26 2004 -
11:30 p.m.
The ejection so big, I register my upset on
both blogs.
Shpadoinkle
Feb 26 2004 - 12:41
p.m.
Why didn't anyone tell me that Johnny Depp won the SAG
award?!
Here's some internet-generated musings:
Would you rather:
- Lose the thumb on your dominant hand in a hunting accident OR
lose your non-dominant foot in a rock climbing accident? Going for the thumb, although I'd certainly miss it. Still, more
of my athletic activities involve feet, and I'm an ambidextrous
masturbator...
- Take care of 20 screaming toddlers everyday OR work in the
sewers of new york everyday? The toddlers, the toddlers!
Although the sewers thing appeals to me in an X-Filesy sort of
way.
- Invent a cure for lung cancer that makes the person never
able to walk again OR makes the person blind? No filmmaker
can stand the concept of making people blind.
- Your 10 year old child find you masturbating OR hear you
speaking derogitively towards a racial minority neighbor? Stupid question. What's wrong with masturbation?
- Your family and friends find out that you have downloaded
(from the internet) instructions on how to make a bomb OR midget fetish porn?
I doubt they'd care either way, but let's go with the
midget porn.
- Make your living emptying other people's garbage OR giving
sumo wrestlers massages? Sumo wrestler massages! It would
be like climbing a big donut every day.
- Run naked through your grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary
OR through your best friend's wedding? I fully expect to be
required to be naked at Mark's wedding.
- Find a tree that will only grow in Chicago that grows money,
but only grows Chilean Pesos OR only grows Icelandic Kronur?
Too complicated to even think about... toss-up.
- Find out from your significant other that he/she is cheating
on you by: you walking in on them OR he/she telling you about it?
Well, if I walked in on it, then I could make with the
funny faces and possibly even fall over backwards.
- Take a 20% pay cut at work OR get a promotion and a 20% pay
increase, but your first new task is to fire three of your co-workers?
The latter! Obviously. Money equals funny,
honey.
- Be responsible for a car accident that causes your best
friend to become paralyzed OR be involved in a sex scandal with a famous
politician? I loves the sex scandals.
- When you lie to someone: drool uncontrollably OR burp loudly?
As opposed to what I usually do?
This is all c/o some ongoing internet phenomenon called Tuesday
is Chooseday, although for the life of me I can't figure out where the damn
thing originates from. This represents 3 Tuesdays worth o' questions, and who
knows, maybe by next Tuesday I'll actually be able to tell you where you can go
to do your own Choosedaying.
Nobody blogs
Feb 26 2004 - 9:16
a.m.
Hey guess what? We're leaving winter behind for a little while!
I'm sure it'll come back to kick our asses in early March, but who cares, cuz
it's gonna be ten degrees this weekend. I really oughta see to my bike.
Here's a tid: looks like X3 and X4 will indeed be
shot back to back, LOTR-style. When we were pie-in-the-skying possible
X-sequels a couple of weeks ago, this was one of the thoughts we had, a
good way to work the Phoenix/Dark Phoenix mojo without sacrificing too much by
squeezing it all into a single movie. Now that being the case, we don't know
for sure that the Phoenix storyline will be featured at all... but at this
point, I'm ready for anything.
Well, except for "A Hole in the World" last night. It's been a
long time since any Buffyverse episode has filled me with such a grand,
primordial dread. It was just something in what Joss was doing, something in
the writing and lensing of the first act, that set every fibre of my being
vibrating with the "the bad shit's gonna go down" beat. And down it
went. The only "yay!" moment was when Angel casually mentioned that both he and
Spike were champions... which paired nicely with the funniest reveal in the
history of television, Angel walking into frame with the sword in his belly.
Otherwise, it was grim, dark, scary stuff. Can't wait to see what happens
next.
If I were a Wiphid, daidle deedle deedle daidle deedle deedle
deedle dum
Feb 25 2004 - 11:03 p.m.
Hey, look!
Anti-semitism pays big!
Yeah, now I'm pretty much just blogging to see myself type.
Women who are awesome, in completely different ways
Feb 25 2004 - 10:52 p.m.
 and 
Can I get an Uma-Oprah joke? Anyone?
I was a teenaged set whore
Feb 24 2004 -
10:03 p.m.
Boy, the things I've learned in the past few days, working on
Gold. From the liberatingly specific, like the meaning of "firewatch,"
to the comfortably mundane, like the innumerable ways in which a digital slate
is better than a not-so-digital slate. And boy howdy do I wish someone
would let me play captain to a go-getter crew like the one Armen has put
together. The best part of today was just getting the opportunity to watch a
good director put a good cast and crew through its paces.
And the gay sex. That was also good. Yay to gay sex! Oh sure, I
was shooed out of the room every time anything really explicit was going on by
the ever-incresaingly-surly camera assistant I was reporting to, but in the
plus column, I got to do Dave up the ass. And you just can't put a price tag on
something like that.
I love being a dilettante in all of this. I pull a 14-hour day
and think myself quite the superstar... but no, the people who are doing this
daily are an order of human beyond any I understand. They have resources that I
lack. They have feet that don't hurt.
You can't take the sky from me
Feb 23
2004 - 4:34 p.m.
Universal has registered serenitymovie.com, and added
Serenity to the list of "Coming Soon" on their web site.
I guess we know what the Firefly flick is gonna be
called... 
Woo hoo!!! Bring me back my Captain Tightpants!
Showtime, Synergy!
Feb 23 2004 - 8:55
a.m.
Holy shit, Jem is coming to DVD on March 30th! Mwa ha ha
ha ha. If my DVD Profiler was working, I'd profile the hell out of that
motherfucker. I haven't even thought about buying G.I. Joe because of
the prohibitive price tag, but this one could actually be worth it.
And while we're on the subject o' the fine TV shows on DVD,
here's one that isn't: my
first review of Star Trek: Voyager, which hits shinydisk
tomorrow.
My son is also named Bort
Feb 23 2004 -
8:17 a.m.
Well, the one good after-effect of last week's illness nightmare
is that it completely reset my internal clock. I'm now waking up every day
between 7:30 and 8, which gives me a good couple of hours to get things done
before the clients even start buzzing.
And today, I totally want to get things done. I'm full of
energy. It's still cold outside, but for some reason it feels like spring. I've
been picking up that smell for the past couple of days. And our winter may have
been short this year, but it was mean as hell, so I for one will be glad to see
it receding in my tail lights.
The coming of spring, coupled with the ending of Angel,
brought me to one inescapable conclusion: I need a little more Buffy in
my life. So I'm taking a cue from Morphy and going right back to the beginning
- "Welcome to the Hellmouth," baby! You know, back when the show was cheap and
unsophisticated and yet oh so very goofily appealing. I loves my Season One
Buffy.
I spent the better part of the weekend as a P.A. on Gold,
getting my hands dirty oldschool. Actually, I got off relatively light; only a
10-hour day yesterday with a 4-hour last-minute escapade on Saturday night.
Learned a bunch of new skills; learned all about snot tape. I was attached to
the art department which resulted in quite a bit of shlepping of heavy objects,
and more fun than that, driving around Toronto in a rented van with no
suspension. It was a gorgeous day for it, too, so I had the time of my life. My
thanks to Svet and Nate and Brady and Rojelio and the rest of the Art Dept
flunkies for letting me tag along and lift large things, and to Dave for
getting me out there in the first place.
So.... Monday huh.... Buckle up, kids, daddy's puttin' the
hammer down.
Come along, Bort
Feb 20 2004 - 7:18
p.m.
(The following is entirely the ramblings of a Star Wars geek, so
if that ain't your thing, then... what the fuck are you doing on my web
site?!)
(Uhh... sorry... I meant.... "you can skip it.")
I was downtown just now and I picked up the
Unleashed Clone Trooper figure, a mighty fine piece o'
plastic if I do say so myself, especially given that the base for the actual
Clone Trooper is a whole other Clone Trooper, all corpsified and gross.
Anyways, I finally got around to getting my definitive Original Trilogy
soundtracks onto my iPod the other day, so I was listening to the Battle of
Endor and I thought of something that I never included in my
100 Reasons I Love Jedi
list. It's that moment when Threepio and Artoo reveal themselves to the
stormtroopers who have just captured the strike team trying to break into the
shield generator on Endor. The droids come popping up, and a little squad of
stormtroopers goes running up the hill to take them captive. Han, Leia and
Chewie watch in helpless consternation. The score trots out the Imperial March
in a really deep, dark, rolling way complete with a nice quadruple-hit
percussive beat that sounds like a death knell. And I just love that
moment. The shield is still up, Luke is in the clutches of the Emperor, the
strike team has been captured, and now even the droids have surrendered.
Everyone's in the bad place; we've got no good guys left. It's the ultimate
"we're fucked" moment. There's just a hint of breath after the stormtroopers
surround the droids, where everything goes completely silent, except for the
music, where the strings holding a single, tense note. And then all hell breaks
loose. I love every aspect of those ten seconds of that film, the darkest
moment in the whole darned trilogy. You're damned right Jedi rocks. I'd
almost buy the DVD just for that.
Anyways, further to the Unleashed front, we're now hearing that
not only will the next wave feature Bossk, it'll also have Aayla Secura,
damning me to yet more frivolous spending in this time of want and worry. But I
can'ts not loves the Star Wars.
Never trust an elf
Feb 20 2004 - 9:44
a.m.
According to the
Country Quiz,
I'm Brazil: I'm "athletic, charming, and probably a good dancer.
Unfortunatley, you don't really mind chopping down the rain forest, and you
probably consider homeless people expendable in certain circumstances. Of
course, your personality is so diverse that it's hard to track down exactly
what you're like. You definitely like Pele, the World Cup, and shouting
"gooooal" at the top of your lungs."
Yikes. That's gotta be just about the most inaccurate
Quiz response I've ever received when I wasn't lying on every single question.
Unless, of course, I actually am a good dancer, and just don't know it because
every time the opportunity arises for me to dance, I say "I can't dance."
The response to the Country Quiz was so wild I tried the
Book Quiz and
came out as Anne of Green Gables, and got the second most inaccurate
quiz response I've ever had: "Bright, chipper, vivid, but with the emotional
fortitude of cottage cheese, you make quite an impression on everyone you meet.
You're impulsive, rash, honest, and probably don't have a great relationship
with your parents. People hurt your feelings constantly, but your brazen
honestly doesn't exactly treat others with kid gloves. Ultimately, though, you
win the hearts and minds of everyone that matters. You spell your name with an
E and you want everyone to know about it."
Shiesh. You can't trust the internet.
This shit's better than Atkins
Feb 19
2004 - 10:00 a.m.
Yup, it's official - I've lost an entire belt notch worth of
weight in the past five days. Pants that were "comfortable" are now "loose."
Pants that were "a bit dodgy" are now downgraded back to "comfortable." If you
can stand the five days of dizziness, fever, and nausea, give some tainted
shrimp or spinach a try sometime. It's good for what ails ya. Besides, who
needs muscle tone or skin pallour? Honestly.
Last night's "Smile Time" - the first post-Angel-axe
Angel ep - was bloody brilliant. The final battle was the longest
sustained laugh I've had at either Angel or Buffy, ever. "I'm
gonna tear you a new puppet-hole, bitch" may very well have to be emblazoned
upon my tombstone. Who in their right mind could look at vamp-face-puppet Angel
and think this show needs to be cancelled?
Got a big day ahead of me, and the fatigue issue is still a
pretty big one. I'm gonna try taking a walk, and see if some of that fresh air
stuff actually helps me out.
Fresh air
Feb 18 2004 - 8:25
a.m.
So here's what happened: I got food poisoning on the weekend.
Hence with the mega-sick for the last three days. After improving significantly
on Monday afternoon, I took a turn for the worse on Monday night and started
running a fever Tuesday morning, so I finally panicked and went to the doctor.
Now I am antibioticked up the yinyang. That would be cause for celeberation if
it weren't for the fact that the side effects of the antibiotics are exactly
the same as the symptoms of the disease. Ugh.
I am doing better in spite of this, thank heavens, although I do
still need to crash onto the couch for frequent recharge breaks. Ordinary stuff
like... oh I dunno... sitting at my desk actually makes me feel
exhausted and sick. Sitting in the waiting room at the walk-in clinic yesterday
(my actual doctor being unavailable) was an exercise in unending torment.
My apartment looks, smells and feels like a cesspool. I'm
tempted to throw open the windows and let some nature in, in spite of the
February. But that would just be silly, especially considering that I still get
feverish every now and again.
So that's the whole story of how my life got flipped completely
upside down by one of those deus ex machinas we were, ironically, discussing on
the weekend.
And then...
Feb 16 2004 - 1:24
p.m.
Still sick, but making a fight of it. I don't know what was more
amusing, last night at 2:00 when I jumped out of bed convinced I was an X-Man
with the ability to control large groups of people with my mind, or at 4:00
when I thought it would be fun to watch the withdrawal sequence from
Trainspotting.
Defeated
Feb 15 2004 - 5:24
p.m.
I came home from Matthew's cottage early today, in a really bad
place physically and emotionally. I'll get to that in a minute. But to arrive
home to this news is just so destroying I don't even know what to do with it.
(So, of course, I blog.)
Angel has been cancelled.
In an unaccountably baffling move by the WB, Whedon's soul
remaining show on the air has been yanked. Although looking back to the end of
last season, when the fate of the series was up in the air, it's actually not
difficult to see that this might have been planned all along to hit the magical
syndication number, it still sucks. If this is the result of over a year's
worth of planning on the WB's part, they should have got their heads out of
their asses and actually watched the show this season:
It's a whole new show. It's got stuff going for it now that it
never had before. A lot of the work in the first half of the year was
foundation-building, for certain, but I think anyone who's been watching the
series would agree that the last three episodes - "Damage," "You're Welcome"
and "Why We Fight" - are among the best on any Whedon show, ever. With "Smile
Time" hitting our eyeballs this Wednesday, I think this is the single most
bone-headed decision I've seen since ABC yanked My So-Called Life back
in 1994.
Add to this the fact that I've been moving my way through Season
Three on DVD for the past week, and it just becomes so much worse. S3 kicks
serious ass, and I'm getting things about the series in a whole new way.
Insert stream of extremely graphic and violent curse words here.
I'm just too dazed and fed up to even begin with it.
Joss posted at the Bronze shortly after the announcement was
made, and here's what he had to say:
Some of you may have heard the hilarious
news. I thought this would be a good time to weigh in. to answer some obvious
questions: No, we had no idea this was coming. Yes, we will finish out the
season. No, I don't think the WB is doing the right thing. Yes, I'm grateful
they did it early enough for my people to find other jobs.
Yes, my heart is breaking.
When Buffy ended, I was tapped out and
ready to send it off. When Firefly got the axe, I went into a state of denial
so huge it may very well cause a movie. But Angel... we really were starting to
feel like we were on top, hitting our stride -- and then we strode right into
the Pit of Snakes 'n' Lava. I'm so into these characters, these actors, the
situations we're building... you wanna know how I feel? Watch the first act of
"The Body."
As far as TV movies or whatever, I'm not
thinking that far ahead. I actually hope my actors and writers are all too
busy. We always planned this season finale to be a great capper to the season
and the show in general. (And a great platform for a new season, of course.)
We'll proceed ahead as planned.
I've never made mainstream TV very well. I
like surprises, and TV isn't about surprises, unless the surprise is who gets
voted off of something. I've been lucky to sneak this strange, strange show
over the airwaves for as long as I have. I don't FEEL lucky, but I understand
that I am.
Thanks all for your support, your
community, and your perfectly sane devotion. It's meant a lot. I regret nothing
(except the string of grisley murders in the 80's -- what was THAT all about?)
Remember the words of the poet:
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took
the road less traveled by and they CANCELLED MY FRIKKIN' SHOW. I totally
shoulda took the road that had all those people on it. Damn."
See you soon.
-j.
If you want to make yourself even angrier, you can read what the
rat bastard WB fuckers had to say
right here. Or you can check out
David Greenwalt's response.
Grrr. Argh.
Meanwhile, this was already a bad day before I got the
news. I've been at Cottage Gryfe since Friday, having a good time, but this
morning I woke up so nauseous I thought I was going to hurl every time I
breathed in. This was later joined by hypersensitivity in my skin and aches and
pains everywhere in my body. Still no headache. Don't know what's going on;
don't really care. Bagged out early and drove back to Toronto, and just lay in
bed for a few hours, trying to ponder the meaningless of it all. And then
things just got a bit more meaningless.
The only good news from the weekend is that I devoured three
X-Men compendia that Chad gave me; the Dark Phoenix saga and the first
two volumes of Grant Morrison's work on New X-Men. I became so entranced
by Morrison's work, actually, that I just basically sat in a chair for five
hours last night and ate them whole.
I guess have Joss' upcoming writing for X-Men to look
forward to. And don't worry, I won't still be so depressed about this as soon
as I'm actually able to eat again...
Dancing away my hunger pains, moving my feet so my tummy won't
hurt... I'm a lot like Jesus, but not in a sacreligious way
Feb 13 2004 - 10:42 a.m.
Why blog at all? Why not just do the Readers Digest version of
everybody else's blogs? Here's stuff I stole from my friends, cuz I'm so damned
lazy:
Matthew's right,
this is brilliant...
Bex is right, this is the quote of the week: "That man is the
definition of douche. I mean, you could literally wash your vagina with him."
-Nariman
And rather than re-express my feelings about the Star Wars DVD
thing, you could just read
the editorial from The Digital Bits, which pretty much says
exactly what I said back in
December.
Okay, one bit of original content: I sent two really nasty
letters to Jim Ward and Georgie Porgie himself on Tuesday, and that made me
feel better, but I'm still on the fence about actually buying this DVD. Yes,
Matt Brown does not want to buy a Star Wars product. Write down the date and
time. It's an odd response, to be sure, but thinking about September 21 just
makes me... sad. And then angry. And then cogent, followed immediately by a
dollop of reflexive.
No, seriously, the cleverness of me
Feb
12 2004 - 4:13 p.m.
I write a lot of proposals as part of my job. I can therefore
take a measure of pride in the fact that today, I think, I wrote the very best
one. Ever. It is a miracle of proposal-ness. A model of style and efficiency.
It would almost be worth posting the sucker on this site, just so you could
read it and marvel at the cleverness of me.
Once the really good one was done, I got hung up writing the
second proposal I had to do today, so I slapped the E.T. soundtrack in
the CD player and tried to get something going. Every A+ paper I ever wrote in
school, I wrote to E.T. I don't know why that happened, it just
happened. It started when I was 16 and was true through the end of university.
Well, it didn't really work today; I lost the mission and had to call Jason for
a refresher course. That worked like gangbusters, and as the dirt bike chase
blasted out of my speakers, I wrote and wrote and wrote. Just like the good old
days.
Check me out! I'm gloating bigtime. I'm gonna keep going, cuz
it's fun. I never had problems doing well on papers. In first year university,
I handed in a 20-page cultural studies term paper that was, literally,
indefensible. My T.A. was a bit dim, and I knew this, so I pretty much just
rode circles around her for 20 pages until she was too dizzy to notice that the
entire argument was founded on cardboard and tissue paper. What did I get? An
A+. She actually wrote something on my paper to the effect of, "I don't think
your argument actually works... A+." Poor lady wasn't even sure my
argument didn't work, she just had a suspicion. It's a long walk from the York
core out to Steeles to catch the bus, but I laughed the whole frickin' way that
night. Felt guilty as all hell, but what the fuck, that class was gigantically
excruciating in ways that few ever are, and I think I earned some paper-writing
vengeance.
Man, if I could make a living doing this shit...
...oh....
"...You're a wee little puppet man!!!"
Feb 12 2004 - 1:14 a.m.
I swear to god, I almost just died laughing.
Some I just... consider
Feb 12 2004 -
12:18 a.m.
I think tonight was one of the most interesting poker games
we've ever had. Matthew won an unprecedented $50+ in an early multi-leg game
that kind of got out of control. That hand also decimated me down to a meagre
$7, but some key wins peppered through the remainder of the night brought me
back up to a healthy $24. Matthew set the all-time record for a single night's
haul. Two players were sunk altogether. And Chandra had her best night ever,
closing at $14. It was a wild and bumpy ride.
This is good, because by attending poker, I was forced to miss
the big moment when the hick finally porked the Vulcan. And to think, just
yesterday they were slathering each other with KY jelly in an entirely
non-sexual context.
With all the Angel goodness this week, plus the Conan
shenangans, plus my penchant for lying in bed for hours reading Down and
Dirty Pictures, I've become a complete night owl. I'm in the market for
some good non-caffeinated teas if anyone has any suggestions, cuz I have to
have something warm to gulp when I'm doing work at 2:00 in the morning. Send me
your best ideas through the ever-reliable Tederick.com Contact Form.
Tea aside, it's all good. I can't tell you how low my energy was
a week ago - but once the fever broke on Thursday, I turned into a freakin'
jackrabbit. Or wait a minute... what's the energy equivalent of a jackrabbit,
but stays up all night watching Angel, pondering, and wearing dark
clothes? Meh. Feelin' good, regardless.
The masturbating bear
Feb 11 2004 - 10:53
a.m.
Master Replicas, those coy propmakers who continue to taunt me
with their Thermal Detonator, announced today that they're starting a Lord
of the Rings collection. They're advertising the props as being "fully
electronic" and at first I thought to myself "what kind of electronics do you
need for a medieval broadsword?" but then I figured it out. Light-up Sting.
Gandalf's staff with glowing crystal. The One Ring, with the Dark Lord's
promise etched in fire. And I said, "oh, crap." More stuff I can't
afford.
I was at a client's on Monday and saw a vintage hand grenade
sitting on a shelf, and it just made me want the Thermal Detonator even more.
Maybe I should get it as a graduation present this June. Maybe I should
foreswear DVDs forever and just buy the pretty bronzeish ball. Maybe I should
cut up my credit cards today...
Damn the world of high-end prop replicas! If they do a
Hadhafang, with or without the electronics, I might not be able to say no.
So Conan's in Toronto, all right, giving whole audiences of
people a chance to embarass our nation with their incessant, sycophantic
hooting. He drew out the Ace in the final moments of the show, dropping the
name that I've been pondering in its absence from his guest lineup until now:
Jim Carrey. Because after the Cat and the Grinch, what other Canadians are
there?
There you go
Feb 10 2004 - 9:08
a.m.
As expected, the
announcement was made today regarding the release of the
Star Wars Special Editions on DVD this fall. More specifically, two days
after my birthday, September 21. I am beside myself with ambivalence.
Re: the Special Editions vs. Originals debate, the actual quote
from Jim Ward is: "This is not a democracy. We love our fans, but this is about
art and filmmaking." The fucker actually had the balls to say that.
A pirate I be, and a pirate I'll stay. Arrrrrrrrh.
My Dog Skip
Feb 9 2004 - 11:28
p.m.
Now I've got Angel Season Three, and now I want a Skip
action figure. That's gotta be the best demon design I've ever seen. Why can't
I have a Skip action figure? Oh right, cuz the line collapsed and nobody's
making nuthin' no more. Right.
So Conan O'Brien's gonna be in my very own T.O. tomorrow through
Friday, and our fair city spent a cool million bucks to bring him here. That
put me off any desire to try to be involved at all, a feeling that was
exacerbated when The Guy Who Never Comes to Poker popped up in e-mail form,
just to taunt the rest of the poker gang (you know, the ones who actually show
up for games) with his ticket-holding status. Well, he can have his Conan and
eat him too!
Watching the snow get cleared off the sidewalk outside my house
tonight at 9:30 was surprisingly entrancing. Two big lumbering ploughs and two
spazzy little pushers, all doing this sometimes manic, sometimes graceful dance
in and around each other with big blue lights flashing from their roofs. I
suspect that had I had the wherewithal to whip out my camera and film it, and
then sped up the tape a few hundred per cent, it would have revealed an
infinite level of order beyond the apparent random chaos. Either that or it
just would have been really, really funny. But as is often the case, I get too
hung up watching things happen to ever have the separation of thought that
would actually allow me to actually do the camera-whipping-out.
Tonight on Letterman: a snowboarding chick, Dr. Phil, and the
Beatles. How does it get better than that?
The demon gets your body but it doesn't get your soul
Feb 9 2004 - 11:47 a.m.
Today, my electric toothbrush, the first line of defence in my
ongoing war against organized dentistry, fell from the sink to the bathroom
floor and now works with only half its former vigour. We are not amused.
Meanwhile, on the toys front, I haven't decided if this is the
best toy,
or if it's this.
Or maybe it's this one:
I am Jack's pissed off web designer
Feb 9
2004 - 10:03 a.m.
Okay, people, seriously:
- Your e-mail is not your internet.
- Your web site does not have an @ in the address.
- Your internet explorer is not your service provider.
- Sympatico is not a browser.
In Kentucky with a polyamorous woman
Feb
8 2004 - 8:59 p.m.
Today, Diane, with a little encouragement from me, came up with
what is going to be the single greatest feature film concept of all time. I
mean, this thing is going to change things, things that need changing. It's
money. It's a host of development grants waiting to happen. Not only
does it feature gigantic, Lord of the Rings-style battles, but fabulous
contemporary drama and comedy, and it can all be shot in and around our
beautiful GTA.
She's told me that she'll have a step outline for me to turn
into a draft by next weekend. I look forward to that. Forget subculture,
forget Action Figures and Night and The Storm, forget
Blood and even the Holy Trilogy. This is where it's at. All it needs is
a title. Fortunately, in spite of the lack of proper title, it's already got a
poster tagline: "If you can't get laid in the SCA, you can't get laid."
I went to see Catch that Kid today; about halfway through
the movie, a toddler girl came galloping down the stairs to the front of the
theatre. She was left to her own devices for quite a while so I began to become
alarmed; fortunately, her mother finally bolted down the stairs and snatched
the child. I couldn't help myself; I yelled out "Catch that kid!" So did eleven
other people. I hate being so tremendously unimaginative.
This afternoon I was treated to that one visual event that all
males privately seek but rarely speak of. Behind a young lady on an escalator,
and realizing that underneath that pornographically short skirt, she's not
wearing underwear. God bless all the females of the planet earth, and praise
Allah for making me a butt man.
Hailstorm
Feb 8 2004 - 10:22
a.m.
It started in the late afternoon on Friday, a light but
persistent tapping, that presages the coming of a heavy rain. By Saturday
morning, it was a deluge. The virus monkeys have got me, bad. My Bearshark
accounts are being flooded with dozens and dozens of spam messages, half of
which are toting virus-protection-proof ZIP files loaded with septic sludge.
It's cyberterrorism at its height. "And this time, there may be no stopping
them!"
Insert here, the usual moaning and bitching about a world
containing such indescribable losers who could create such a waste of
everyone's time and money.
Chances are, if your e-mail address is visible anywhere on the
web, it's about to happen to you too (if it hasn't already). My advice? Change
your name, leave the country, find a shanty somewhere and do what I've been
threatening to do since I was 17 years old: become a hermit, Kenobi-style. The
crazy old wizard never got no spam livin' in no hut.
The Second Obstruction
Feb 8 2004 - 12:49
a.m.
Tonight my FORP Obstruction came to an end. I showed the final
(?) cut of The Runner, which went over well, and then we discussed some
of the things I gained from the experience, and some of the things I feel I
missed out on, opportunity-wise, in this exercise. I honestly would not be too
chuffed about being made to shoot the scene again with all that I've learned...
but we're already on to the next Obstructee: Chris.
Chris showed us his entire canon of work dating back to our
second year at York (his first), including a number of things I hadn't seen
before. Tera/Tori and the fourth 2001 Dedication were particular
standouts for me, as was a brief scene study he'd written for Acting/Directing
back in the day, which stars Michael Greenspan (!) in a surprisingly dedicated
performance. The big laughs all went to Portrait of a Young Artist in my
Bed, which, naturally, was the film we chose to Obstruct:
Based on what I've seen tonight, I have great faith in Chris'
ability to turn this myriad collection of provisions into the fuel for
something really interesting.
As for my own Obstruction... I enjoyed it, but I think I didn't
end up working hard enough on it. I coasted by on this one, when I should have
really gone for the throat. I'm filming the last of Obstructicron right
now, which will either turn out to be a hell of an interesting self-reflexive
documentary, or the biggest self-handjob of all time. Either way, fun for
me!
I Am Furious (Yellow)
Feb 7 2004 - 9:46
a.m.
A bunch of higher-res photos of the new Harry Potter LEGO sets
hit the web today... and there's something damned peculiar about them:
all of the characters have flesh-toned faces now, rather than the traditional
LEGO omni-colour, yellow.
The debate regarding skin colour representation in LEGO has
actually been raging for a while now (and those of you unaware of that fact are
probably going "uhhhhh.... okayyyyyyyy...." right now) and it bloody well
pisses me off. I take the hardline front: this ain't The Simpsons, and
yellow hasn't just been the LEGO version of caucasian all along. Yellow is the
omni-colour, because there is no need for race in LEGOland. They're all just
yellow. Except Boba Fett, who has a solid black head and no face, not because
he's differently complected, not because his Dad was Maori, but because he's
Boba freakin' Fett. Why must we bring race to LEGOland? Can't we all just get
along (yellow)?
I really can't see the logic of switching up the HP figs, except
to make some kind of a statement, and I'm not sure it's a statement I like. Of
course, now my yellow Harry Potters and my peach Harry Potters can do some
Braveheart-style battles on my shelves, but that's just an afternoon's
fun, tops, and not worth committing a lifetime to a multi-fleshtoned
LEGOverse.
5/7
Feb 6 2004 - 8:06
p.m.
You know what I just noticed? I never, ever, ever, ever, ever go
out on Friday nights. Like, ever. Hence with the me being here to write this
for you fine people. I'm usually just too wiped from my week to even think
about social plans unless there's a movie coming out that's worth the opening
night crowds. The rest of my weekend tends to get booked completely solid, but
Friday nights I stay home and watch TV. I'm not complainin', I'm just sayin'.
It's weird that tonight was the first time I ever noticed that.
So this week was a bit rocky, with omnipresent high anxiety that
finally broke yesterday afternoon, when I was fooling around with some cooking
in the kitchen, listening to music (I've got some shitty old computer speakers
set up in there so I can plug in my iPod), and finishing The Petty Details
of So-and-so's Life. Which, admittedly, got measuredly better as it went
along but was still disappointing. Now I'm into Down and Dirty Pictures,
and visions of sugar plums are dancing in my head. Sugar plums, and
multi-picture Miramax deals.
With the anxiety broken, I feel like I could lift a house. It
was like getting a B-12 shot with sugar in it. My mood and energy level have
just skyrocketed. I'm probably a danger to myself and others.
I took a few hours today and finished (well, mostly) the cut for
The Runner, which (after some mid-afternoon falderal from the FORPies)
will indeed be screened tomorrow night. I dunno. The first cut was a bit of a
disaster, but the second cut solved a lot of problems in interesting and clever
ways known only to myself, so I'm quite a bit happier with it. Once I've got
footage of the FORPies watching the flick and commenting on it, I'll be able to
start cutting the Obstructicron.
Here's some old news: I absolutely loathe phones. I always have.
I specifically remember them making me profoundly uncomfortable as far back as
seven years old, and when Bearshark is behind me, I plan to take my cell phone
down to the lake and toss it in. (I will write a movie around this, and will of
course call my home answering machine and leave it recording as I lob the phone
into the drink.)
But here's the new news: when my Bell phone care plan finally
paid off today after nine weeks of ceaseless crap, and they sent me - yep! - a
brand spankin' new phone, I actually danced around the house singing in a girly
voice, "new phone, I have new phone, new phone!!" Then I spent a half an hour
programming numbers into it. That's right folks, I've been without call display
for a week and a half - a perfect opportunity for all the chaps on my Enemies
List to blitz me with crank calls, and now you've missed your chance! Mwa ha ha
ha ha ha ha ha
Off to eat sausage rolls, read my book, output my flick, and
watch Alias. That's what I'd call a damn good Friday night.
Wait till you're older
Feb 5 2004 - 9:34
a.m.
Not entirely surprisingly, the production of Indy IV has
been indefinitely postponed. Apparently, Lucas wasn't thrilled with the draft
Darabont turned in last week, and a new writer is being sought. This puts the
production of the film out of the 2004 timetable and into the unknown future.
The only good news about this, then, is that I'm not going to have to
experience the excruciating torment of watching the last Star Wars film
within six weeks of the last Indy film in the summer of 2005.
So...... let's talk about Angel 100. (And for people who
are still playing catchup in the Buffyverse - DAVE, CHRIS - you should
probably skip this part.)
Zowie. I wasn't ready for that. Somewhere in my delusional mind,
I thought that Cordy would, at the end of the episode, choose to go off and be
with Buffy. That's how paranoid I was after last week's reveal on Buffy's
feelings about the Wolfram deal... I envisioned CC going "yeah, she's right,
I'm outta here." I did not know she was going to die. And suddenly I see
a small value in spoilers, because I just wasn't ready to watch the death of
Cordelia Chase.
The episode outlined in brilliant form just how valuable
Charisma Carpenter has been to this series, and to Buffy as well. Losing
her - for whatever reason - remains a gigantic loss to the franchise. She was
absolutely tip-top last night, swinging for the fences in every single scene,
and her sequences with Angel (especially the last one, natch) were just
unbelievable. It's a smaller, darker world without Cordy in it.
Thank god the rest of the ep was so great to displace all this
grief and anguish. Christian Kane seems to be on his way out the door again,
which is a damned shame, because I think he's the future of the franchise. I
came up with it the other day: the third series should be called Nerd of
Doom, featuring Andrew in the principal role, training 3 Slayers of varying
ages (13 / 17 / 27), with Lindsey MacDonald (sent back from TPTB?) along for
the ride as a reluctant advisor. That's a fucking show.
Kane was awesome, Mercedes was awesome, the only defecits were
in our other five principal characters. The horrible truth about this season
five is that Wesley and Fred are just basically completely irrelevant. Gunn's a
bit closer to being important, but not in that happy, "we love Gunn" sort of
way, more in a "God, Gunn, get over it" mojo. And ever since Lorne was added to
the principal cast, he's been given nothing to play except endless gay
stereotypes.
With 100 episodes down, and a new "mission statement" on the
table, I think it's time for Angel to go snikkity-snikt hardcore. Back
to the basics. A three-man team, consisting of Angel, Spike, and either someone
entirely new, or (fates approving) Cordy herself. Let our two ensouled
champions get even more badass, do more of that flying around the room that
Angel pulled last night, and take it back to the streets in the war against
evil. That would make a hell of a Season Six.
Phase One
Feb 4 2004 - 3:40
p.m.
Work got piled up today so I took a very late lunch, and on my
lunch I popped in an episode of the second season of Alias, which I've
been canvassing on loan from Chad. And whaddaya know: today's episode turned
out to be the One Where Everything Happens. You know the one... it's the one
where everything happens. It was notable from the episodes where Only a Few
Things Happen, in that everything happened. Sloane disappeared, Jack got
made, Vaughn confessed his love, Dixon got turned, the CIA took down the
Alliance, Sydney got her kiss, and Francie got killed and replaced by Evil
Francie. It was dense, man, dense and tense, and now I'm just completely
and utterly spun.
The funny thing about watching Alias is that having only
started two months ago with Season One, I've long been exposed to various
Alias spoilers on the internet without knowing anything about the people
involved. So, for instance, I've heard the names ("Sark" and "Vaughn" and
"Sloane") and nicknames ("Spy Mommy" and "Evil Francie") before, but it wasn't
until November that I was finally able to begin putting the puzzle together.
So, for example, I've spent the last thirty episodes or so wondering just what
in the hell "Evil Francie" fucking designates - and now I know. She's.... Evil.
Francie.
Well, fates providing, by the time the next new episode of
season three airs, I'll be all caught up and ready to watch the show weekly,
like a normal person. Which will kill me. The best thing about watching
the show on DVD is not having to wait to find out what happens next...
Slip n' Slide
Feb 4 2004 - 12:52
p.m.
And here's another Stupid Link:
Smack the Pingu!
God bless all the Stupid Links.
No, you are
Feb 4 2004 - 11:21
a.m.
Here's some fun, but do not use this if you are in a
crowded office environment. Or maybe do. I guess it depends on where you are in
your career right now. I wrote a 2-minute piece that I like to call "Ballad of
a Throbbing T."
It's been a while since we've had a good Stupid Link.
Meet me on the other side
Feb 4 2004 -
12:34 a.m.
Other peoples' blogs are waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay better than mine.
My stuff's been shite since the new year. My reviews are shite, my entries are
shite, even poor SURVIV.ORg is shite. My titles are shite. I have lost the
mojo.
I must re-claim the mojo. I believe kegels help with this, among
their many other powers...
Anxiety
Feb 3 2004 - 7:31
p.m.
Am I wrong? I felt like 2003 was a good year, with a lot of good
experiences and personal growth. But 2004 so far seems to be kicking everyone's
asses. This shit is hard, man, and it feels like everyone I know is
having a tough time of it lately. Can we declare a national week of rest
sometime in February? Maybe it could coincide with Reading Week, for all our
university-bound friends. I would very much like to call a halt to the
proceedings for a little while, just to let everyone catch their breath.
Like the Jo-Lowe says: Inhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaale.
Exhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaale.
Friglet. I'm all right - don't worry about me, I'm equipped for
this shit. But I'm concerned for my peeps, and for What It All Means.
Last night I missed Wonderland, so instead I ended up
dreaming that I was a lawyer. So let's play,
Should Matt Have Been a Lawyer?
Let's talk about the weather: So today we were hit by the first
big thaw following the Month of Winter Hell. The problem with this being that
so much snow has piled up - and been wedged to the sides of the roads, forming
3-foot barriers - that the melting snow on the sidewalks had nowhere to go.
This created a fascinating series of fjords and inlets, with water as much as a
foot deep. Combine that with my rapidly-disintegrating Payless boots, and you
have a lovely image of Matt hopping like a jackrabbit from island to island. I
took one particularly long stretch of lake at a dead run and ended up doing a
kind of crazed triple-jump. It was rather like something from Super Mario
Brothers. Or Super Mario Brothers 3. For someone whose physical shape has gone
straight to hell in the past two months, I remain surprisingly spry.
Marshall spoke to the guards in Ewok. I could tell cuz of the
"yub nub."
Okay now seriously guys, it's just a BREAST
Feb 3 2004 - 3:36 p.m.
- "There's now going to be an FCC investigation into the
nipple."
- "Classless, crass and deplorable stunt."
- "...calls for the government to take a tougher stance on
regulating indecency on television."
- "miss-janet.com temporarily down for maintenance"
- "...federal probe into television indecency..."
- "Boobgate"
- "The share price of CBS parent company Viacom rose more than
1 per cent yesterday and Virgin Records have decided to release Jackson's
single, Just a Little While, more than a month early."
- "[TiVO recorded] a 180% spike in viewership at the time of
the incident."
- "I [George W. Bush] was preparing for the day and fell
asleep."
"That was her nipple? Jeez, it looked like a pasty."
Good lord, it's a BREAST
Feb 3 2004 -
9:25 a.m.
An FCC investigation? A puritanical statement from the White
House? And we didn't even get to see her nipple?!
Supersuckage
Feb 1 2004 - 7:23
p.m.
There's only one good reason to watch the Super Bowl:
And there's also Rupert and Emma getting doused with slime, for
some reason.
Otherwise, it's a lousy pre-game show for Survivor.
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