Nude, nude, totally nude
Apr 30 2004 - 9:25 a.m.

Oh, this is gorgeous. This is what I needed. It went from winter to summer in a single day. I laugh in the face of insulating clothing! HA HA HA HA HA!

It's weird, because the night before last, I had a fairly detailed high school dream. Then last night, as I was going to bed, I caught a whiff of something in the spring air, and for about five seconds, I was seventeen years old again. And not just with the horny. Then there were dreams of flying and "Nightswimming" and Isis & Osiris and Amanda Alton and rows upon rows of lockers, and it was all very complicated and interesting in my head.

(When is it not?)

The Nicholl Fellowship deadline is today. I was going to send them the third draft / first revision of subculture, but I got about halfway through spell-checking it before I was like, "I ain't sending this, no sir," so I did a "crash fourth draft", finishing the last fifty pages as roughly as I could between 9 and midnight last night, and then cutting it down to a reasonably lean 114 pages overall. Not my best work ever, but structurally far more sound than 3D1R. The plus column to all of this is that Nicholl Fellowship or no, having a deadline is a hell of a motivator. So now I've got an (admittedly patchy) rough fourth draft done, the pieces are largely in place, and we're off to the fun part: revisions.

It's a real kick in the shlug-tee
Apr 29 2004 - 7:41 p.m.

"You're all new again!" My computer's been safely rebuilt from the ground up, running like a bat out of hell and ever so adorable. Jason worked like a dog all day on it. I mostly just sat around and read. It was strangely reminiscent of acting in Dave's flick.

Still some more to do but that's tomorrow. I'm going to skip it, and maybe skip Survivor. I gots ta get outta here and into the first warm day we've had in forever.

Might I further relieve you by at first gently and then more rapidly rubbing your shlug-tee?
Apr 29 2004 - 9:52 a.m.

So... Charimsa Carpenter in Playboy, huh. I don't know about that.

God I love shipment tracking. I've watched my 12" Spike travel across the continent. He arrived in northern Ohio yesterday and crossed the border this morning at Windsor without incident. Now he's in a truck headed towards the big T-dot. It's all very exciting, like a really slow-moving video game without a game pad.

I've been really good about the Episode III spoilers, so I allowed myself the minorest of minor luxuries this morning, and did some research on the planets we'll be seeing. In addition to Wookiee 1 (Kashyyk), it looks like Georgie boy is finally going to be using that planet name he came up with for Tatooine back in 1972 - Utapau. He's tried to work it into literally ever Star Wars film since then (as Bespin, then Endor, then Naboo, then Kamino). For a deep-code hardcore geek like me, this is vaguely exciting.

Onto the Angel: before I get to "Time Bomb," I was watching Angel the other day, the first one with the white room at Wolfram & Hart, where Angel met the little girl for the first time. And watching that little girl, all I'm thinking is: "that's Eve."

"Awww, do you want your wittle baby back?" Eve, Eve, Eve, Eve, Eve. Okay, I know the little girl got savagely butchered by the Beast. But still. Eve. Not that I'm particularly enamoured of Eve or anything, but there's so much of her performance in that kid, I can't help but wonder if Mutant Enemy didn't fed-ex Sarah Thompson a DVD of "Forgiving" and say "watch this, cuz you're playing the kid."

"Time Bomb" was cool; I'm thinking that "Underneath" remains my favourite of the final six so far. But man Amy Acker's fantastic. I'm beginning to think that playing Fred was actually too limiting for her. She's a tremendous physical actress (something she didn't get to use much when playing Miss Burkle). The thousand-yard stare is getting a bit tiresome, but seeing Illyria finally throw down and kick some heart-carving ass was worth the price of admission. If there had been a sixth season, and if they had followed my notion a while back of getting back to basics and just having it be a 3-man show, I would officially nominate Angel, Spike, and their berserker demon pet, Illyria.

And yes, in spite of the fact that I know full well he's in next week's episode and the ones after that, when Spike got dusted, there was that horrible half-second lurch where my heart just stopped. My mind was a step behind and I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. Then time reverted, thank god. You'd think an oldschool trekkie would have seen that trick coming a mile away...

Cup a' tea, cup a' tea, almost got shagged, cup a' tea
Apr 28 2004 - 1:45 p.m.

Did anyone else know that the Olsen Twins aren't actually twins? Well, I mean they're non-identical twins but once you've crossed that bridge you might as well not be twins at all. I say "pshaw" to the "Olsen Twins" moniker.

You know, half a decade or so back, when there was the Natalie Portman countdown to legality, I thought that was the most brilliant use of the internet in the medium's short history. Now I hear about the Olsen Twins one and I just think it's intensely gross. I still remember when they were the ugly-ass babies on Full House. Stupid sick countdowners. [I guess I'm getting old and crusty.]

So I'm very nearly done my Top 20 Angel episodes list, which I've been working on for about three months. A few surprises, for me as well as for you. I'll post it the day after "Not Fade Away" fades away. Someday I'd like to do my "Godfather edit" of all the vampire flashbacks from 1600 to now, but that's a bit more than I think I can get done in 2004.

Oh, and: my computer is going in for upgrade tomorrow. If you never hear from me again, that's why.

Kill Sarina
Apr 27 2004 - 8:18 p.m.

My accountant is the single greatest genius in the whole history of the world and he deserves to be sanctified in spite of his non-Catholic leanings. He is worth his weight in gold. In fact, he is worth double his weight in gold. He just bought me a whole lot of time, and time is the thing I need more than any Buffy blocko figures I can think of.

So I'm cranking away at the fourth draft of subculture, trying to get something readable in shape for the Nicholl Fellowship deadline... the only problem being, this draft is turning out to be huge. I thought I'd quelled the length demons in the second draft, but holy fucking hell this is the Kill Bill of subculture drafts. It's currently standing at 82 pages and I'd say there's easily 50 or 60 pages to go, and possibly more. That's waaaaaaaaaaaay too long, but I'm learning so many new and interesting things about the characters that I hardly care. Maybe Matthew was right; maybe I should just go ahead and make this into a TV show. Or a mini-series. Or a graphic novel mini-arc. Or somethin'.

25 pages today, 20 yesterday. This un-stipation has been long in coming.

And I'd like to be king of all Londinum and wear a shiny hat.
Apr 27 2004 - 12:34 p.m.

Fancy! And they'd make a perfect birthday present. Along with everything else I can no longer afford.

So intensely miscellaneous
Apr 27 2004 - 10:02 a.m.

I have no form or structure to speak of today, so I shall do this thuswise:

1. A group in Quebec is pressuring Jean Charest to decriminalize prostitution. Can you imagine? Poutine and legalized whores, all in the same province? Should we just change the name of the place from "Quebec" to "Heaven?"

2. I did not know that David Greenwalt directed "The Girl in Question." My expectations for this episode could not get any higher. Which will, undoubtedly, become a problem when it airs and either a) sucks, or b) sucks large.

3. Giving the shout out to Bruce Boa, who played General Rieekan, thought it was dangerous for any ships to leave the system before they'd activated the energy field, and finally saw himself immortalized in plastic earlier this year. He died late last week.

4. I am waiting, rather ironically, for 12" Spike and 6" Dru. What they will do together when they arrive is anybody's guess.

5. I bought the second season of E.R. on DVD yesterday, watched all 22 episodes last night, and can now present for you my review.

6. Tuesday is Chooseday!

1. have the lifetime channel make a movie out of your life OR the playboy channel? Being Canadian I am unfamiliar with your bizarre yankee channel nameology. But I assume the Playboy channel one would be more fun to watch.
2. lick a cat's nose OR give it a proctology exam without gloves? I lick a cat's nose all the damn time.
3. find a bag containing $20,000 and turn it in before you find out it belonged to an known mob boss OR not turn it in, spend it all, and find out it belonged to an orphange? Well this sounds like a no-win situation. If I turned in $20,000 of a mob boss' money, wouldn't he whack me? I can't imagine orphans whacking me, except with their Sniper Rifles of Guilt.
4. find out your parents kidnapped you when you were a baby and raised you as their own OR find out you had a twin that died at birth that they never told you about? I don't think being kidnapped at birth would really bother me. Dead twin on the other hand, would bother me. (I just read Fall on Your Knees.)

I am the king of the Ordered List.

That old man, he's a real motherfucker gonna kick him on down the lieeeine
Apr 26 2004 - 8:50 p.m.

So the only real reason for me to buy The Matrix Revolutions on DVD was for that big sweet-ass battle scene. This, of course, got me thinking about other big, sweet-ass battle scenes. And being as that I have nothing better to do with my time, here's my top ten:

1. The Battle of Endor (Return of the Jedi, 1983)
2. The Battle of the Pelennor Fields (The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, 2003)
3. Siege of the Zion Docks (The Matrix Revolutions, 2003)
4. The Charge at Aqaba (Lawrence of Arabia, 1962)
5. The Battle of Geonosis (Attack of the Clones, 2002)
6. The Invasion of Normandy (Saving Private Ryan, 1997)
7. The Battle of Helm's Deep (The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, 2002)
8. Sunnydale High Class of '99 vs. The Mayor (Buffy the Vampire Slayer: "Graduation Day Part II," 1999)
9. The Battle of Hoth (The Empire Strikes Back, 1980)
10. The Battle of Cardassia (Deep Space Nine: "What You Leave Behind," 1999)

That's my call and I'm sticking to it until tomorrow at 8. Make with the bitchin'.

Give this boy a TV show
Apr 26 2004 - 11: 14 a.m.

This is sociologically awesome:

In What Buffy Character Are You?, I'm Buffy.

In What Angel Character Are You?, I'm Angel.

Clearly, I need my own demon-slaying television series. Either that, or I'm in love with myself. (But if I ever have sex with myself, bad things happen.)

I researched a whole lot of quizzes to get to this point, but found these two to be generally the best written and least annoying. On my travels, I was Angel thrice (but usually on gender-specific quizzes), Buffy once, Spike once, Xander once, and even Dawn once. So basically, I'm Every Woman. It's All In Me. (Even when I am a man.)

For I am Costanza, Lord of the Idiots
Apr 25 2004 - 10:15 a.m.

The thing I never got about George was that in spite of his myriad foibles, lack of panache and a general physical dumpiness, he was still dating a new girl every single week. And they wouldn't be slouches, either, they'd always be attractive, successful women like Susan or the Risotto girl. I'm working on a theory that this is all because it's a TV show and not a documentary, but it's in the early stages.

We're moving on: One of the side effects of watching the final six Angels with Chad every week is that I'm watching Smallville again, although reluctantly. As far as I can see, literally nothing has changed since I last tuned in: it's still all about that stupid octagonal disk, and the will-they-won't-they nonsense between Lana and Clark. In the good news department, however, Supergirl is coming to save the day!

The blonde chick is indeed Kara, Clark's cousin. Which translates to Supergirl in my book. Too bad they can't suit up in blue and red and fly around together for a while saving people. That would be awesome.

Prick Up Your Ears, Alfred Molina's defining performance, the one where he went from being "that swarthy guy in Raiders" to being the best fucking actor in the history of the world, is coming out on DVD in June, at long last. But when for Coffee & Cigarettes, his other defining performance?

I want that 18" Hellboy doll more than just about anything right now. This is when the horrible reality of having no money begins to sink in. My last regular paycheque is tomorrow.

Never leave the day room, man, never leave the day room.

"FUCK." Oh, and... uh... "YOU."
Apr 25 2004 - 1:55 a.m.

I am the stupidest person in the whole long sad history of stupid people.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

(Argh)

With buttons, I finally achieve legitimacy
Apr 24 2004 - 9:30 a.m.

Buttons by Bex!:

And my personal favourite:

My genius knows no bounds
Apr 23 2004 - 3:38 p.m.

If you've got a half an hour to kill and an inner monster of self-doubt in desperate need of molification, try the Super IQ Test. I did a test by the same guys at around this time last year. I scored a 129 and was described as a "gifted borderline genius," but in the intravening 11 months, I've apparently crossed the border and left it far behind, because I hit the big 141. Here are all the nice things the internet had to say about me:

"The way you think about things makes you a Complex Intellectual. This means you are highly intelligent and have extraordinarily strong verbal and math skills. Compared to others you are a highly conceptual and complex thinker and are able to understand information in an abstract form. You also show great attention to detail. In fact, it's hard to find something you're not good at. How did we determine that your thinking style is that of a Complex Intellectual? When we examined your test results further, we analyzed how you scored on 8 dimensions of intelligence: spatial, organizational, abstract reasoning, logical, mechanical, verbal, visual and numerical. The 3 dimensions you scored highest on combine to make you a Complex Intellectual. Only 6 out of 1,000 people have this rare combination of abilities."

Six out of a thousand, baby. Awwwwww yeaaaaaah.

More good news: Quentin Tarantino is saying that his next flick will probably be The Vega Brothers, which will star John Travolta as his Pulp Fiction character, Vincent Vega, and Michael Madsen as his Reservoir Dogs character, Vic "Mr. Blonde" Vega, in some kind of prequelish adventure. Sounds like another must-see...

Graduation Day, Part II
Apr 23 2004 - 10:34 a.m.

Get ready to do your head, fellow Yorkies: My last day of film school was five years ago today.

On April 23rd, 1999, Dave and I picture-locked The Gift at 6:00 in the morning. (So, technically, it was April 24th, but it all still felt like April 23rd.) Most of that night is a vivid neon blur of coffee edges like broken concrete and lightsabre duels in abandoned hallways, but I do remember that we took off for a couple of hours at midnight to go see eXistenZ at the Colossus, which was not only a terrible movie (and totally inappropriate for my work-addled brain), but was also my first experience in the sound-and-light fury that is the Colossus (also thoroughly inappropriate for my mushy head).

This followed by two days the fourth-year video screening, where I dressed up as Darth Maul and presented, among other things, Absence, which I had only finished sound mixing that afternoon at around 3:30. (And it was a temp sound mix. Naturally, I've never bothered to pursue a final one.) Absence concluded with "the chestnut," a trailer for Episode I that Steve and I had cut together, which (with The Phantom Menace still three weeks away) got the biggest reaction of the night. The red makeup and black shoe polish was a good disguise; no one remembers the actual Mattness of the night. It was only late last year that I ceased to be "the Darth Maul guy" to Meredith's father (and became "the Minute Film Fest guy").

On April 24th, we had the big end-of-year-a-palooza at Meredith's place, where Mike, Steve and I smoked cigars on the porch and contemplated using Barbara as a key recepticle. And, of course, where Steve and Carol did this:

The following month was far and away one of the best of my life, getting ready for The Phantom Menace, lining up in the streets, meeting a couple of hundred people just like me, and always with the toys, toys, toys. A month or so when you couldn't throw a stone without hitting Star Wars somewhere, which, in one manner of thinking, was pretty much my description of heaven on earth.

That this fabulous month was followed by the worst time in my entire life has never really linked up in my mind; it's simply that things were Good, and then they were Very Very Bad. The chronic depression that had been circling me for the better part of a year finally took hold. I did some very bad things and contemplated some even worse things. And after a tip-toe edge-teeter that I'll never forget for the rest of my life, I got out.

There was no lightning bolt moment of clarity. There was eight months of exhausting, soul-destroying work, just trying to get my emotional state back into a place where I could even begin to address the actual problems. Time not spent getting ahead, but just getting back to zero from all that lies beneath. For the fact that this worked, and that by January, I was able to finally look around and see what I had to do, I have no end of thanks. Everyone else was freaked out about Y2K. I was just glad to be alive.

The biggest distinction I came to in those months was that there is no single event that makes your life better. You don't make one change or one decision and suddenly find yourself on the right path. The right path takes years. It takes thousands and thousands of tiny little choices, decisions, victories, and failures, all (hopefully) generally intended to lead you to where you want to be, but with endless digressions left, right, up, down, and in crazy new directions you never even thought of. The picture in my mind has always been of a gigantic tower leading to heaven, made up of pieces of wood, each one no bigger than a hardcover book, all nailed together. As you can imagine, it's rickety. It's what Mark and I would call "tentative." It's weird to look at and doesn't seem to be the best route, but it's the only bridge I've got, so it's the one I'm taking.

So, I've spent the last five years doing stuff entirely unrelated to my quote-unquote lifelong dream of being a filmmaker. Five years ago today, there wasn't even a portion of my mind that would ever have foreseen myself going into good old crass capitalist business (there were certainly epithets shouted at my father in my teenage years that could be counted as vows to never do so). Now, as I'm preparing to leave Bearshark behind, I'm finding myself soft and unprepared and generally in need of stretching the muscles that ruled my daily life five years ago today. For the first time since January 2000, I am utterly planless; the relief I feel is that this time, I'm not even all that scared. I'm good scared; I'm happy-scared. I've done this before.

So ended the first five years.

Across the Stars
Apr 22 2004 - 9:15 p.m.

I've been doing something for a little while now that I quite enjoy: I've been going to the Second Cup and sitting down and reading an entire graphic novel cover-to-cover. Tonight it was Hellboy, the first four issues, which started out kinda rocky and then got really fuckin' good. I find the entire process of doing this tremendously entertaining and relaxing. Unfortunately, of course, it's also damn costly - thank you Matthew and Chad for hooking me on this fine poison - given that I have to replenish my TPB supply for every dose. But, I guess, there are worse things in life. Like catching fire and not being able to put it out.

I did this tonight, at the expense of watching Survivor or Friends or E.R.. This happens every year at around this time; I think the television season is exactly one month longer than I can stand. At the end of April, the interest in sitting around watching TV just vanishes. And with Boston Buttfuck leading the charge on All-Stars, and this ludicrously contrived they-stole-my-baby plot on E.R. (hello? Kerri? it's called kidnapping, call the fucking police), it's all a very wasteful Thursday night. I'd rather be rearranging my action figures and then blogging about it.

Finally, good news for everyone who's been upset about my losing the Star Wars faith lately: at long last, it's happened, Attack of the Clones has swing-shifted into the "nostalgic glow" area of my brain, after 8 months of meh-ness. (Reference note: I loved the flick when it came out, then, inevitably, got really bored and meh-y about it last year. Now it's back, and it's better than ever!) This might not sound important to you, but it's a hell of an event around here. I'm thinking of throwing a party, like the one I threw the time I realized that I now look back on The Phantom Menace with the same warm fondness that I bestow upon Return of the Jedi. Today, it's good to be Star Wars Fan Matt.

Prequels yay
Apr 22 2004 - 4:03 p.m.

System of touch
Apr 22 2004 - 11:08 a.m.

Did you know that Donnie Darko has made ten million dollars in video sales, after only a $500,000 box office gross? That's bleedin' nifty. And as a result, it's actually getting re-released to theatres this summer, with 21 additional minutes, in a newfangled director's cut. That is something I will definitely be looking forward to seeing, given that I missed the original theatrical release.

Elsewhere, Darren Aronofsky has been given the reigns of Watchmen. Interesting, in that Aronofsky was doing a Batman before Nolan's (not Chad) version got singled out by WB as the only one worth greenlighting. But lately, it seems like if one waits long enough, literally anyone will eventually find themselves in command of a comic book movie. This is why I am really looking forward to Daniel Cockburn's take on Sub-Mariner. I think he'll really bring a no-holds-barred, no-punches-pulled, no-narrative-at-all approach to the comic book movie genre.

Another FRESH episode
Apr 21 2004 - 10:39 p.m.

NOTE TO THE WB: Besides the fact that I fucking HATE you guys for all the obvious reasons, you've piled on yet another reason to HA TE you, with this whole "fresh" thing. STOP FUCKING SAYING "FRESH." I never want to hear that word again for the rest of my life. Which will be easy, given that after May 18th, I'm never tuning in to your shitty-ass network again, because of how HATEFUL AND EVIL you are. Fuck you.

Hi everybody! Wasn't Angel splenderiffic tonight? It was nice to see Connor not-annoying again, for only the third time in the series' entire history. And otherwise, it was all just tremendously sad. Like Lorne seeing Connor and not knowing him. Or Wesley seeing Connor and not knowing him. Or Angel seeing Connor and knowing him, but not being nice to him. Everything was sad.

When Angel pulled the Connor memory mojo last year, I didn't think anything of it; I certainly never thought about how it affected the rights of the rest of the Fang Gang. Then Eve planted the seed of doubt in my mind at the beginning of the season, and I've been worried about it ever since. Now Wes has his memories back (brilliant montage, BTW) and everything is very sad. Yet also kinda cool, in a Connor-killing-Sahjan sort of way. God, the mythology of this show is unbelievable. Makes Buffy look like Seinfeld. The sheer amount of stuff that has happened in five short years on Angel just defies description. And one ten-second montage is enough to bring it all roaring back. This is a great, great show. Fuck you, WB, fuck you in your stupid fucking frog-shaped ass hole.

Well, enough about that, how about this: Quentin Tarantino will be presenting Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair (i.e. Vols 1 & 2, together again) at Cannes this year. Hopefully this is paving the way for a theatrical release of same, sometime later this year. Could two incarnations of Kill Bill hold places in my top ten in the same year? Let's find out!

In the bad news department, Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow has been shifted out of June and into September. Hopefully, this isn't the work of a squeamish studio... I would really love for that film to be awesome. I mean, just look at it... couldn't it be awesome?

I wanted to be Scott, as usual
Apr 21 2004 - 1:07 p.m.

Which Superhero are you? I got Professor X, not bad in the grand scheme of things ("Also? I can kill you with my brain.") but I was kinda hoping for Cyclops, Batman, Daredevil, or even Wonder Woman like when I used to dress up in a woman's bathing suit when I was a kid.

...probably shouldn't have mentioned that last part. Anyways, I can get myself to Cyclops if I just whine like a baby about being misunderstood, and how my powers are a curse. Apparently, that's the diff between Xavier and Summers.

It's raining again. With great showers come great responsibility. I shall work away the afternoon and then go downtown to spend money.

No really, I'm that guy
Apr 21 2004 - 12:33 a.m.

First I get quoted in film publicity (see below), and then I get a special thanks at the end of Daniel's latest film because my drill-work in VCR influenced his drill-work in Continuity. So pretty much, right now, I'm the axis of awesome.

I ran into Roneet Folman on the street and after I picked my jaw up from the pavement, she told me that she recently Googled herself and found her name on Tederick.com... proving once again that this site is (if unintentionally) the Centre of the Universe. So that's cool. In like kind, I'll just list off names of people here for my own amusement, so that one day, they too will get sucked down the Google vortex and come to this site, and wonder what the fuck is in my head. Let's start with:

• Aimee Mather
• Tomoko Kamata
• Cameron Scott
• Jeff Ross
• Derek "Rick" Pearson
• Barbara "Babs" Yuen
• Peter "you are very disturbed by what you see" Flie
• Nicki Fung
• Ian Waldron
• Cate Boutilier
• Robert Teuven
• Sarah Sweet
• Dana Borcea (actually she's already on here somewhere)
• Laura Scrafield
• David Mariai
• and of course, Geoffrey MacDonald

Looking back on it, this entry is pretty much exclusively about how great I am and how significant all of my shit is. Oh the glory of me etc. Well, whaddaya want, I've had kind of an "up" night. Dave and I fleshed out the single greatest reality TV show concept of all time, so we're gonna be gajillionaires. It's all very exciting. Can't happen soon enough, as far as I'm concerned... so many things to buy with a gajillion dollars.

I'm that guy
Apr 20 2004 - 7:51 p.m.

You know how film marketing folk use film critics' quotes to sell their movies? You know how the film critics' quotes are usually taken out of context to make it sound like the critic thanks the film is ab-fab when he might have actually given it a middle-of-the-road review? Well guess what: I'm that guy!

Check this out, scroll down till you reach Tederick.com.

Cool! I'm that guy! If only you could make a living being that guy. In the meantime, I've really gotta get my TIFF coverage in to try to get a press pass for this year...

Morningstar
Apr 20 2004 - 11:18 a.m.

At six minutes past six last night, I was watching television with my brother and sister when it suddenly, finally, why-didn't-I-think-of-it-before occured to me: Britney Spears is the devil. Not in the catty, "she's the devil" sort of way. No. She's literally Satan. El Diablo. Lucifer, the fucking morningstar. Most beloved of God's servants, cast forever out of heaven to rule in desperate vengeance over Pandæmonium. Which, naturally, in the Angel sense of Hell, means this is the place and she's the one. Britney Spears is evil incarnate on earth.

You didn't really think Satan would be big and red and have horns, did you? Stupid mortal. That's Hellboy. Satan is beautiful beyond mortal measure, but in a creepy, that-girl-ain't-right sort of way. Read: Britney.

Satan would be a walking totem of the seven deadly sins, without ever letting you know that that's what she was about. "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world [she] didn't exist." Lust, gluttony, pride, envy, greed, sloth, and most of all wrath, all in human form? ...Hello? Britney.

No, I'm serious. Really think about this. The cold chill will run down your spine.

Now that I've figured this out, Satan's minions are no doubt battering on my door to prevent me from disseminating (see! she made me use the word disseminate! she's the fucking devil!!!) this information to the rest of mankind. But the joke's on them, because I've got a lightsabre and a whole lot of cat food. Which, for some reason, helps. I know I'm not a righteous man. I am merely an instrument.

Goodnight moon
Apr 19 2004 - 3:50 p.m.

I am just so fucking happy that Kill Bill exists.

It's the current happy. I saw Vol. 2 a second time last night and I bought Vol. 1 on DVD today. Every once in a while, a flick comes along where I don't just think it's a great film, and I don't just love it for my own reasons, but along with these things, I am just genuinely glad it is in the world, because it makes the world better by existing. Some might raise an eyebrow that such praise would be bestowed on the eyeball-snatching fun of KB, but it's right there for me. Vol. 2 has been out for three days and it already bears the mark of a major film event in my life, because of the 87 conversations I've had since Friday night, a good 53 of them have been about Bill - and they've been great conversations, as much fun as the films themselves, wherein me and my friends and even some total strangers just stir the big communal pot of everything that we loved about that flick. And that, my friends, is what a great film should do.

Matt places the smiley here:

Now, onto the rant: the filmgoing experience is rapidly becoming a war between me and mine, and the rest of the fucking world. And it's pissing me off. Yet another confrontation with talkative neighbours in the theatre last night, which was nothing compared to the shit Matthew went through at Silver City yesterday afternoon, trying to get a manager to understand the concept of a competent projectionist. Everything about going to movies is just getting harder.

My friends and I exist in an unfortunate no-man's-land: we want to see mainstream movies (Kill Bill, Hellboy, Lord of the Rings) but we want to view them as film enthusiasts. This runs in direct opposition to the nature of theatrical distribution in this city and all around North America, where the film enthusiasts go to the arthouse cinemas (the Carlton, the Cumberland), which don't show mainstream flicks at all, while the mainstream exhibition houses (Silver City, Paramount) seem to have completely decentralized the importance of film-viewing at their establishments. Famous Players theatres are now mass-market date-night entertainment megacomplexes, and the whole concept of actually watching a film under their roofs is rapidly becoming a kind of formality, just like people don't generally go to McDonalds to have a fantastic eating experience. So, it's getting difficult to blame a talkative audience member for not knowing any better. When you've just entered a theatre through the hazy barrage of light and sound that constitutes a Silver City lobby, how could you be faulted for thinking that you're at a nightclub?

Add to this, prints just suck lately. The colours are desaturated, the grain levels are way too fucking high, and projection errors are becoming commonplace. The difference between, say, The Two Towers on the big screen and on DVD is just phenomenal.

I'll always want to see a flick like Towers on the big screen, no matter what the cost, no matter how the audience behaves. But for a lot of other films, with ticket prices at $14 and DVD prices at $23, and the window between theatrical release and home video becoming so short (three or four months), the point of bothering to go to the theatres at all is rapidly eluding me. I've got a great fucking TV, a top-of-the-line DVD player, and a cat who never talks during the movie. Who needs Famous Players and their tarnished silver?

Going green
Apr 18 2004 - 10:23 a.m.

There's nothing in the world better than this, even if it eliminates my soccer game and forces me to stay inside all day with minimal groceries. I love spring thunderstorms. I'm going to curl up with a book and just listen to the sounds, and occasionally glance out the window at one of my favourite colours of green, which is currently occupying the entire sky.

Yesterday was Matthew's 33 ¹/₃ birthday party, which he commemorated by renting a hall on the Toronto Island and inviting his friends and family to bring records (get it?) to play. This was actually a really great idea and an enormous amount of fun. For one thing, it's been a long time since I've been to an elaborate, themed party where someone has actually gone to some effort - and that was awesome. The locale was really neat, too... I'd love to rent it out and stage a 50s-style dance or something. It's actually where Max goes to school... which is also fantastic. Matthew described it as being like "he lives downtown but goes to school in Muskoka." Now I know what my childhood was missing!

BUGGER.
Apr 18 2004 - 2:09 a.m.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I just got ever-so-accidentally spoiled on the Angel finale. I still don't know what it's about, but I know what happens to two of the characters. And I'm soooooooooooo pissed off that this happened, because I sure as hell didn't mean for it to happen, and now it can never, ever be un-happened. Fuckity fuck fuck.

Fuck.

Fine, go watch the Ginger Snaps III trailer and behold the weirdness:

Angel's Avengers
Apr 17 2004 - 11:14 a.m.

WandaKristin - who is rapidly becoming my absolute favourite TV reporter/commentator in the whole wide world - has used her column this week to basically break down every single aspect of the cancellation of Angel, with no bullshit, no false hopes, and some good news regarding the possibilities of future MOWs from the Buffyverse. Great interviews with everyone's favourite two Angel cast members, James & Amy, and some extra-fine rumour quelling regarding our old friends, David & SMG.

I've been watching Angel pretty much nonstop for the past month. (I watched his entire run on Buffy prior to that.) And in case there has been any doubt, yes, this is going to gigantically suck. It's funny, because just over a year ago, I couldn't have given less of a shit about Angel. I wasn't able to get in on the ground floor with the series, so every time I flipped over after Buffy, I found myself put off by the vastly different storytelling style, and found it hard to get a handle on the characters. (And remember, I always had a serious, Xanderesque problem with Angel when he was with Buffy. A 240-year-old in love with a pubescent high school cheerleader? It just seemed gross.)

Then, last winter, the first season of the series came out on DVD, and I was finally able to ease into it the way I should have all along. And it's great. It's kicking-my-ass great. Now I don't know what the world would have been like without Doyle, or Lorne, or Lilah or Fred or most of all Lindsey, or the Angel incarnations of my old Sunnydale faves, Cordy, Wesley, and Spike. And best of all - I completely get Angel himself now. The fifth season of the show has finally allowed me to really access and identify the lead character, and going back and watching the whole series over again... well, it's just a real treat.

This show is going to be seriously missed. Every year, there seems to be less and less reason for me to renew my cable package in the fall...

KILL BILL
SHOOT DAVE
Apr 17 2004 - 3:28 a.m.

This has been a long one. I got up at around 6:30 yesterday morning and it's just after 3 in today's morning, and yet... I'm totally wired. I was in a great flick, I saw a great flick... what more could a boy want?

Vol. 1: Battles Without Honor Or Humanity Or Choreography

Dave shot his On the Fly short today, in which I played a demon. A rather stylish jealousy demon, in fact. (Okay, there was a whole "waiter" alter-ego but we try not to think about him. He's boring. Although he did look appreciably 007 in his outfit.) Now, the indoor stuff was fun (and with the coughing up of so many hairballs on camera that I got a pretty decent idea of what life as Andy Serkis is like), but really, it was all about the last hour of the day, where Dave lead us to a nearby park and me and Daniel kicked the shit out of each other for an hour in a massive, unchoreographed, unsafe, unplanned melee that will be remembered in the songs of dwarves, elves, and men for ages and ages to come. It was huge. It was epic. It was excruciatingly painful.

Yeah, my body is black and blue tonight, because there's only so much wrestling you can fake before you're really wrestling, in a big dirt patch, wearing a dress shirt and a bow tie and a big green demon mask, and then things start getting painful. Still, I love this shit. Great, physical, toss-your-ass-in-and-see-what-happens acting. Much less intimidating than the indoorsy kind, where I actually had to.... act. Which, in spite of the complete minorness of my role, I found really challenging, mostly because I'm not an actor.

Being treated like an actor, however, is where it's at, folks. The crew was great, truly fabulous, especially my various minders in makeup and costume. I could do "hurry up and wait" for the rest of my life, man. I'm 250 pages into Fall on Your Knees and more than content to sit in a corner somewhere while other people worry about the stuff I usually worry about (shots, lights, time, fate, destiny).

That said, I do want to worry about that stuff. I don't know. Mounting a short at this point seems like such a gigantic potential waste of time and much-needed money... but the opportunities are pretty frickin' tempting right now. I've got at least four scripts I wouldn't mind dusting off... it's worth thinking about.

Vol. 2: WAKE UP, DAVE!

We wrapped just after 8:00, and because we weren't all tired and beaten and bloodied enough, we figured, what the fuck? Let's all go see Kill Bill Vol. 2! This somehow translated to Daniel and I walking back to my place (beaten, bloodied, bruised) and watching Ghostbusters for a little while, but then we zipped off to the Y and the E to catch the flick. Not only did Bill get damn good and Killed, but apparently, the Leafs won. I discovered that ironically screaming "GO LEAFS" at hockey nymphets loses its appeal after the second time (and Matt loses his voice after the third) so that didn't really last long.

Neither did Dave; Bill-killing goodness proved to be his ultimate undoing, and never again shall he be able to hear Uma's voice without some part of his brain nodding off. No matter, he's going to love the flick when he finally sees it. In the meantime, he has my hearty thanks for a great day.

Vol. 3: Don't wake up, Matt

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Everybody was born in April
Apr 14 2004 - 9:14 a.m.

Have you ever opened your inbox and just closed it immediately because there's so much stuff in there, you don't even know where to start? That's me, today. One minute I'm having the Kristin Kreuk dream of all time (watched Smallville last night, and now remember why I gave it up) and the next, I'm drowning in footwear. Er, e-mails.

Last night was all about Angel anyway, and for some reason, the A-storyline, featuring Lindsey's big reveal, and the B-storyline, with Wesley and Fred-Smurf talking about the nastiness of the world, mated up pretty decently to give me THE SHIVERS. Apocalypse Now, indeed. It's already here. It's been here all along. SHIVERS!

I'm kinda jonesing on the really really really big Hellboy doll. I've seen it in many establishments for around $60, but only Third Quadrant has the balls to overprice it a little bit so that it can actually retail for $66.66. Basically, if I ever buy this, I am supporting Satan and all of his works by buying it at 3Q. But, money becoming ever tighter, a really really really big Hellboy doll is probably not something I need. Chris and Brandy and I have confirmed our move-in-together date for the end of the summer, August 31, so I've got to make do at my current rent level for a couple more months than I was planning to. And thus, there shall be no Hellboy for me.

On Tuesday night, Erik and I were arguing about whether Kill Bill 2 was going to open huge this weekend, and I was saying that there's been a groundswell of interest in KB over the past few months. He was saying that without even a DVD release before this week, such a groundswell was not there. Well, check this out... KB Vol. 1 sold two million DVDs on the first frickin' day. That's a groundswell.

I'm not actually sure when I'll get to see Vol. 2, as tomorrow is Dave's On the Fly shoot which will, no doubt, overrun its intended 7:00 wrap time and keep us shooting until, say, two or three in the morning... on the eighteenth of May, 2005. Last night's impromptu blocking rehearsal also got me good and worried, since it's been about a good decade since the last time I flexed these particular muscles. You'd think playing a big scary green demon would come easily to me, and yet. (Turns head skyward, shakes fist and yells) AND YET!!!

Firefolk
Apr 14 2004 - 1:08 p.m.

As I said a couple of days ago, no matter how many times I do the Firefly personality test, I always end up as River. In fact, for a while I was convinced that it was only possible to end up as River or Jayne, and no one in between. Well, here's how we among the Firefly circle matched up:

• Me: River.
• Chad: Got Jayne twice and finally hit Mal, and stayed there.
• Matthew: Wash (naturally!)
• Dave: Simon
• Chris: Kaylee (!)
• Brandy: Zoe

So, from this, we can deduce that Chad is our leader (although he's got Vera stashed somewhere, which would probably land him in the seventh level of hell), Dave's my brother, Chris is my girly playmate, and Matthew is the amiable comedian who gets us where we need to go. Although he's never met Brandy, they are in fact married, mostly on account of to the spot where her back meets her legs, right where the Lord split her.

Now: I assume it's impossible to get Book unless you're either a Zen master or big fat liar, but who the fuck got Inara?!

Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.
Apr 14 2004 - 10:03 a.m.

He's my happy thought for the day. Now he's yours too!

Oh most sweaty-naughty-feelings-causing one
Apr 14 2004 - 1:38 a.m.

Apparently, I exist on the second level of hell, because I have lust. At first I thought, "only level 2, woo hoo!" but it turns out the levels aren't ranked in terms of badness, they're just there, with totally arbitrary numbers. So the second level of hell is a pretty high sin score. All because of the lust, which (in this survey's terms) probably translates to masturbation, and naughty thoughts about people of both the opposite sex, and occasionally the same sex. I am a level-2 hellion. Yay me!

Click here to find your own level of hell, in a surprisingly rigorous slew of survey questions. Boy, the fun I have at 2 in the morning.

Because expressing geeky opinions that nobody else cares about is the backbone of the entire blogging industry
Apr 14 2004 - 12:47 a.m.

Comic book movies. These have been on my mind a lot lately. We've just had a really really good one, with Hellboy, which fans and critics alike are arguing is one of the best comic book movies ever made. (I'd agree, at least from an adaptation standpoint.) We've also got The Punisher, Spider-Man 2 and Catwoman coming in the next few months, all of which seem positively preordained to suck major, major ass. Watchmen is targeted for 2006, while next year will see the return of Batman, a stand-alone Elektra, and a new Fantastic Four.

Me, I still dig Batman Returns in a big way, although I might argue that it isn't really a comic book movie in the traditional sense, and more of a "Tim Burton does weird people in animal costumes" kind of a movie. A safer bet would be last year's X2, which I enjoyed immensely the first time and yet enjoy more every time I watch it. And you can't easily argue with the original Superman's willingness to tell a really big, kick-ass story while keeping it light and fun, with visuals that were - for 1978 - way the hell ahead of their time. For non-superhero comic book flicks, both Ghost World and Road to Perdition are, as they say, "the good shit." I've also got a deep fascination with From Hell, although the movie does admittedly have more flaws than it has slice-n-dice whores.

The comic projects currently in development that I'm looking forward to the most are, of course, Kevin Smith's Green Hornet and Robert Rodriguez's Sin City, although in both cases, it's a bit of a crapshoot. Both are directors who could really connect with the material... yet there's a wide latitude of potential for both of them buggering it up, too.

There. That's my ten cents. What am I missing?

Get yer Angel non-spoilers!
Apr 13 2004 - 12:42 p.m.

Nothing too scary here, just some info on the creative personnel, titles, and some of the already-revealed major plot points. Here goes:

5.17, "Underneath," that's this week's ep, with the return of ever-perfect Lindsey.

5.18, "Origin," the return of Connor, hopefully not quite as annoying as when last we saw him.

5.19, "Time Bomb," Ben Edlund's last toss at the ring.

5.20, "The Girl in Question," the long-discussed Buffy-Angel-Spike event with no SMG, and, ultimately, no Dawn either (). Tom Lenk's presence not nearly enough to make up for this.

5.21, "Power Play," the beginning of the end, and David Fury's final script.

5.22, "Not Fade Away," the end of the end, written & directed by Jeffrey Bell although now we're hearing that Joss will indeed share teleplay credit on this one, in spite of his Firefly commitments.

And that's the that.

I am strongly reminded of last year around this time, when I posted a similar list for the final six eps of Buffy (and then all the titles changed except one). Man, everything about this sucks. I've been watching Angel fairly steadily for the past little while, and... everything about this just sucks.

Output
Apr 13 2004 - 9:32 a.m.

Coffee with Mer last night once again lead to (among other things) discussion of creative output and why it's there (including a hilarious tract of dialogue on the street about whether we're capable of experiencing anything simply for itself and ourselves, or whether it's all fodder for blogs, scripts, films, and videotaped "performance art" of me walking down the street with a scythe and a lightsabre... this dialogue was so note-perfect, it should have been in a movie, or a script, or a blog).

(I bracket better than anyone, BTW.)

So, I came home a bit wired and wanted to do something, y'know, creative n'shit. I couldn't work on my script, because that would never happen, and I didn't want to plunge into the mire that is Obstructicron, so instead I ran with two of the more promising ideas I've had for a "Firsts" movie.

First I wrote a script for something currently titled New Record although that may change because it's a tad close to World Record, the Animatrix short (though not in concept). Tricky little thing, might be fun to shoot, but what I like most about it is that it's nothing like Sensitivity.

My second project for the evening was actually the first solid idea I ever had for this year's fest, also currently labouring under a tentative title: Miss December 1981. Or, as I like to call it, Sensitivity 2: The Revenge of Sensitivity, because it's really, really, really, really the same as my one-minute flick from last year. I was even going to go so far as to include a hazy, over-exposed shot of the exterior of a residential home from my past, just to stick it to the 2003 jury.

Being as it's so Sensitivityesque, I was able to pretty much finish Miss December last night, although I'm still tinkering with some shit in After Effects that is currently kicking mightily at my ass. But when it's done, and if I determine that it is definitely not this year's submission to 1MFVF, I'll put it up on Tederick.com. Maybe I'll even get around to doing that "31 Minute Month" project I came up with in January, doing a different one-minute movie every day for a whole month. Because the idea of doubling the length of my filmography in a single month is pretty tempting...

There's a reason I wear red sunglasses
Apr 12 2004 - 3:33 p.m.

I was on the subway just now, and with my head all filled up with X-lore, I admit that I wasn't really paying very close attention to what was going on around me. The next thing I knew, a guy was trying to sit in my lap.

He was a forty-something dude, rattily dressed, and as I quickly realized (to my embarassment), he was blind and trying to get into the seat next to me. I'm not a small man, so his efforts were being nicely fouled by my legs, and he was mashing me into my seat and falling repeatedly into my lap.... yet for some reason, in spite of these repeated failures, he was stubbornly refusing to rethink his approach. He just kept coming, like a girl I used to know, with the hands in inappropriate places and always the grunting, grunting, grunting.

I gave up trying to explain the situation to him and just started trying to get myself the fuck out of there, which was made difficult by his legs being all snared up with mine, locking them in place. I finally grabbed the handrail above my head and kinda chin-upped my way out from behind him, dangled in the air for a moment and then dropped to the ground next to the guy, to the delighted applause of a squadron of Stepford Cuckoos seated nearby, who had watched the entire altarcation with growing grins of wonder and amusement.

The blind guy, by way of explanation, glanced up at me and muttered, "I have a tumour." Pretty much all I could do was grin and stand by the door, waiting for my stop.

But I can't shoot worth shit
Apr 11 2004 - 2:29 p.m.

Yikes. I'm River!

Which Firefly crew member are you?

Happy Easter everybody! Go eat a bunny.

Oh. Well then just gimme a six-pack and a couple of bags of Skittles.
Apr 10 2004 - 8:57 p.m.

Viva la Kreuk! It being such a spring-y day I couldn't not have KK² enlivening the site for the first time in months. And now suddenly I'm wondering if the guy who invented K'Kruhk is a Lana Lang fan. I can't imagine the real Ms. Kreuk would be terribly flattered by having a big hairy Jedi whacko named after her, but who knows. Maybe she's into it. And that thought is a bit more than I can stand, so I'm moving on....

Today. Yeah. Today worked out. There's nothing like riding your bike to yoga, doing yoga, riding home, going downtown, buying a big fuckload of comic books, sitting in the Second Cup, and reading them all. That's just a damn good day, IMHO.

I got my mack off on Emma Frost big time, picking up three issues of her own little series. It's pretty simplistic stuff, and trying-to-be-nice young Emma isn't nearly as fun as Morrison's Emma, but still, it's pretty and colourful. And Republic #62 was just endlessly satisfying, bringing to a conclusion the whole "Obi-Wan missing, Anakin moving on with his life" story arc that's been going on for like the last ten issues, in some action-packed cross-cutting which (and I can bestow no higher praise) actually felt like it came out of Star Wars. Sure, ROTJ Infinities ended up just about as dopey as it started (white-armoured Vader?!) but hey, that's what you get for buying shlock.

Since I know the whole Skittlebrau thing has piqued your interest, here's a page about a guy who actually tried it out, thankfully saving me from the ignominy of spending tonight doing my own experiments.

"Oh and, Jesus is almost here. Are you looking busy?" - Bex

You got any of that beer that has candy floating in it, you know, Skittlebrau?
Apr 10 2004 - 10:27 a.m.

The new Spider-Man 2 trailer is out, and I've watched it. It's actually a decent trailer, but still, they blew it. They had one chance to get me into theatres on that opening weekend. It comes about three quarters of the way through the trailer: the music crescendos, and the words "A MAN" blaze across the screen. Had they followed it with a similar title card proclaiming either "A SPIDER", or "IN A SPIDER-SHAPED HAT," I would be in line right now. But they chuggered it. Oh well.

Anyways. I think yesterday certainly qualifies for the stupidest day of my life. A whole night of listening to my neighbour sending the worst of The Movie Network thundering through the air, along with my unrelenting lower back pain, certainly doesn't do much for one's sense of humour. And I didn't even win 21 million dollars! Consornit.

Fortunately, Prick was nice and silent last night and it's a big bright sunny Saturday, so I'm going to try to turn today into everything yesterday should have been, and possibly a wee bit more. This is called "positive attitude," and it comes highly recommended.

Butchery, butchery, and more butchery
Apr 8 2004 - 10:23 p.m.

Lex is out, and Matt is very, very upset. Yeah, go read SURVIV.ORg, don't make me blather about it here.

But here's this:

Looks like I'm buying the DVDs this September after all. Say goodbye to old monkey-eyes; these will be no '97 Special Editions. It could be a fake, but I doubt it. This is the big show, the "Archive Editions" themselves. And this, I have no problem with. I've got my bootleg original trilogy, and by god, that's all I need.

Meanwhile, the Clone Wars animated series is officially done for now - my heartfelt congratulations to everyone involved, because this has been some great stuff. My favourite episodes remain the Obi-Wan vs. Durge stuff, but recent forays with Mace Windu, Yoda, and a damned pissed off Anakin have made for some great viewing. I remain unconvinced about this General Grievous madness. K'Kruhk is my new favourite Jedi (Obi-Wan notwithstanding), not because he gets his ass handed to him by Grievous in CW20, but because he kicks the shit out of Vos in Republic #63. Check me out, I'm an EU whore at last.

Well, now we're thoroughly screwed
Apr 8 2004 - 6:42 p.m.

Yeah. Palisades Toys got a Buffy license. Chad discovered that today, in the midst of some dedicated sleuthing. They're doing prop replicas, among other things. They're doing the scythe. This year. Fuck. We are so utterly, utterly screwed.

Can't imagine what it'll cost... don't care. I'd trade a dozen thermal detonators for "that cool... axe... thing." "Slices, dices, and makes julienne preacher." "I figured that out when I King Arthured it out of the rock." "So it's true! Scythe matters!"

Gimme another minute
Apr 8 2004 - 3:08 p.m.

With all the crazy last week, I completely forgot to mention: the 2004 incarnation of the One Minute Film & Video Festival web site is open for business, and we (I think I can formally say "we" now) are accepting submissions under this year's theme, firsts.

You don't have to have done anything like this before to apply. Just whip off a one-minute movie that is about firsts in some way, and send it on in!

I've got four - yeah four - ideas on the go but I'm not convinced any of them are actually what I want to do. As candidates fall out of the running I'll probably produce them anyway and debut them here on Tederick.com, but that might be off in the future.

He's having a stroke... of genius!
Apr 8 2004 - 10:20 a.m.

My deepest and most humble thanks go out to the great Patricia Hamilton, patron saint of all that is good and lovely in this life, who not only took Jason, Chandra and I to see The Producers last night, but treated us to dinner at Oro, to boot. How does it get better than this?

Well, nazis dancing in a revolving swastika formation, for one...

On another note, congratulations to Chris, who has joined the ranks of we who prowl the streets of Toronto with white bud earphones linked by gossamer threads to a beautiful white-and-chrome box at our hips. Way to give your life a soundtrack, Chris!

Baby, you ain't kiddin' Vol. 2
Apr 7 2004 - 2:53 p.m.

So Dave and I were walking along Queen Street today, when in the distance, we saw two women fighting with lightsabres. It turned out that they were doing on-the-street promotions for Maalox, which sucks, because for a minute I thought I had met my first two wives. The rank commercialism at play, however, and the poor quality of the free Maalox T-shirt they gave me, were major turn-offs, and I left disappointed.

When we first saw them, though, I jammed my hand into my bag to grab my camcorder, but Dave thought I was going for my lightsabre. All things being equal, the young ladies in question were probably fortunate that I wasn't packing, as I would undoubtedly have rushed in there and fucked up their Maalox mojo but good, with some finely-honed lasersword action of my own. Contrary to popular belief, however, I do not carry my lightsabre around with me when navigating the downtown core. Perhaps I should?

Dave - who really is the center of this series of stories, so here's a picture of him:

- Dave later discovered that I've become reluctantly dependent on coffee again for the first time since film school, and therefore couldn't resist the temptation to buy me a Tim Horton's coffee as we made our way to the offices of Sue Thomas F B Xeye. I got three sips into it, and was just starting to enjoy it, when Steve showed up and gave me a jab on the arm that caused me to fumble the coffee and sending it flying to concrete oblivion. The horrifying collision between the fact that I was already drinking that coffee under protest, and the fact that I now desperately wanted to finish it, almost ripped my brain in half.

Finally: Dave is shooting his On the Fly short next Friday, and has asked me to tag along. As I had not yet remembered to note this in my day timer, I did so just now, and being that next Friday is the 16th, the first item on my list was already KILL BILL. Below this, I added DAVE SHOOT. Then I rearranged the words accordingly:

April 16 2004
KILL BILL
SHOOT DAVE

I'm a deadly viper!

Baby, you ain't kiddin'
Apr 7 2004 - 9:37 a.m.

The new trailer for Kill Bill Vol. 2 is a goddamned doozie. Get you sunglasses, we're heading to Leone country for two glorious hours come next Friday!

The trailer for Lemony Snicket, on the other hand, is strange and foolish. Methinks mesmells a Grinch. Bah.

I'm a day late, but... Tuesday is Chooseday!

Would you rather:

1. go through 5 years of poverty and get $10,000,000 OR go through 1 year of poverty and get $100,000? A hundred grand ain't enough to do what I gotta do. I am a patient man.
2. date someone who is fabulous looking but has unmaskable, horrible breath OR someone who is simply average but has great breath all the time? Looks are for chumps. Breath is for kissing!
3. hand wash the poopy cloth diapers for 50 babies for a day OR hand wash the poopy cloth diapers for 5 babies for a week? I am a patient man, but I also subscribe to the "when you're in the shit, you might as well be really in the shit" philosophy which applies rather well in this case.
4. be fat, dumb, and happy OR in excellent shape, sharp as a whip, but melancholy or depressed all the time? Aren't I already in excellent shape, sharp as a whip, and melancholy and depressed all the time?

I just had a lovely moment, getting to the bottom of my morning Earl Grey and discovering a nice, fat, ugly cat whisker mired in the dregs. Because nothing perks up a cup of tea like a piece of cat. Ugh.

Also, in rather eerie anticipation of the KB trailer, I had a dream last night where Mark and I (again) got ourselves mixed up with some gangsters. We made a stop in a 2-horse town in the middle of rural Ontario only to discover that the town was controlled by the mob. We and some other folk were being carted over to the local gangster bar to get executed in some relative privacy. The good news, though, is that through our own cleverness and a willingness to put our lives on the line, we notified the police (with some assistance from Robin Williams) and saved the day. It all erupted into a massive gunfight between the police and the mob while we the potential executionees ran for cover. I finally had to grab a gun and put away this one kill-crazy gangster who was hosing the place down with a machine gun, but that was in defence of innocent people so I don't feel too bad about it.

Meanwhile, just in from my brother, the funniest thing ever. Now you know.

Whither Kenobi?
Apr 6 2004 - 10:17 a.m.

Starwars.com is reporting that Episode III will be released on Thursday, May 19, 2005 (which actually means Wednesday, May 18). This is strange. Given that it's the last Star Wars film ever, I would have expected them to take the natural opportunity to release it on May 25, the anniversary of the release of the original film (and Return of the Jedi). But then, I guess nobody over there's doing what we want these days anyway; it's their tried-and-true corporate mojo.

I give it all a big fat "meh." With things being the way they are, Episode III is currently so far off my radar that it's just not generating any real excitement. I don't know where I'm going to be next year, and given that it's the first time in my life that that can be said to be true, I'm just trying to take things a day at a time and not plan too far ahead. But given that it's the last Star Wars film ever ever ever, not being excited about it kinda sucks.

It's like the costume. Obviously, I'd like to do a third-and-final pass on the Obi-Wan Kenobi costume, in keeping with tradition and also to satisfy my own interests. Well, a), I ain't gonna have much money for such an enterprise; b), the Episode III Obi-Wan costume doesn't excite me as much as I and II; and c), I'm frankly tired of being picked on for this shit.

Well, enough grousing. I'll be perfectly content 13 months from now, I'm sure... fabulously wealthy and dressed to the nines in Indian silk. It's just a bit hard to see from here, is all.

The Fourth Obstruction
Apr 6 2004 - 12:02 a.m.

Tonight we got together and watched 20th Century Cock, and then obstructed Daniel.

We decided that the tendency has been towards forcing the FORPsters to make realistic dramatic scenes, so we went the other direction with this and made FORP's most cerebral member get down and dirty with the likes of Rodriguez and Cameron. The funny part was when he thought the obstructing was over and revealed some of his own fears, only to have them obstructed right alongside the original ones.

With each passing obstruction, I am looking more and more forward to my own second obstruction. We're working on a whole different level now.

and the Stepford cuckoos
Apr 5 2004 - 12:25 p.m.

I just walked down to the variety store to buy Wonderbread, and the whole way there, I was singing a Wonderbread song to the tune of the Wonderfalls theme.

Wonder wonder wonder wonderbreaaaaaad,
Wonder why the wonderbread's on me...

Yup. This sucks.

Also, I've fallen in love with Emma Frost. I can't imagine it's going to end well. I suspect she'll break my heart. But my love is strong, and proves once again my lifelong - if somewhat reluctant - affiliation with Scott Summers, and the reason why the only X-Man I choose to have on my desk in action figure form is old Cyke.

But now I desperately want my Emma Frost & the Stepford Cuckoos action figure boxed set, and of course, there isn't one. There's a decent Emma statue for $140 but what's the fun without the jacket? (Oh right: the boobs.)

Well, these are the things I deal with in my daily life. Why are you here if you don't want to know this stuff?

In any event, many thanks to Matthew "I didn't fall for the April Fool's gag" Price and Chad "leaves me hanging with Wolverine and Cyclops dead in outer space" Nolan for their assistance in guiding me through two whiz-bang comic series, Neil Gaiman's mindfucking Sandman and Grant Morrison's awesome take on New X-Men, respectively. It's just more proof that while I will never actually be able to battle superevil or carry the Ring of Doom, I can damn well read about it to my heart's content.

Tonguing the choclit
Apr 5 2004 - 9:45 a.m.

Four episodes. Four whole, lousy, stinking episodes is all it took for Fox to cancel Wonderfalls. Motherfuckers. Sons of bitches. Dirty little bastards. Stupid stupid stupid people!

I'll be in my bunk
Apr 3 2004 - 4:56 p.m.

I got two damn chocolate vaginas from Rebecca.

The one on the left clearly belongs to a caucasian lady (or possibly a pale-skinned asian), while the one on the right is the more natural chocolat of a nubian goddess.

She also gave me a whole whack of peanut butter, which was not specifically for use with the chocolate vaginas, but when placed side by side suggested such a strong urban mythicity that I think the temptation will be too enormous to ignore.

She also gave me Oh, the Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss cuz it's my big year. Yeah, I pretty much love her from head to toe. She's a sweetie.

Everything and muffins
Apr 2 2004 - 10:00 a.m.

Can I just say that yesterday was awesome? Not the April Fool's thing, although that was fun too. Nope, I just think yesterday was about the best work day I've had thus far in 2004. I got everything done. I got things done I've been putting off for three weeks. I got things done I wasn't going to start until next week. And the fact that it all came on three hours of sleep, and was sandwiched between an early breakfast and a supremely entertaining night of Thursday TV, followed by ten hours of uninterrupted sleep... boy howdy, these are the simple pleasures I crave.

Among yesterday's funnies,

• StarWars.com changed their mouseovers so that the title of Episode III read "The Creeping Fear," that horrible fake title that's been circling the web for a week;
• TheOneRing.net reported that due to the popularity of the Lord of the Rings movies, the planets of our solar system are being renamed after LOTR characters, with Gandalf taking the place of Earth;
• The Leaky Cauldron got itself in trouble when Tom the Innkeeper came home and found the webguys squatting;
• IGN reported that Warner Brothers was pursuing a Robin franchise to run concurrently with the new Batman, but had decided to target the burgeoning "tween" market by casting Emma Watson as a 13-year-old-and-bitchy Robin who uses her superpowers to get even with the classmate who stole her boyfriend;
• and my personal favourite, DVD File reported that CBS will release General Hospital: The Complete 38th season (a 55-disk set containing all 252 episodes) on DVD later this year.

Here's something: apparently the Simpsons cast has walked out, not showing up at two recording sessions running. At first I wasn't sure if it was true because I heard about it yesterday, but it comes straight from Variety, who (to my thinking) is not prone to April Fool's jokes, and the posting is actually dated for the 31st. The story is that they're after a hefty salary increase ($360,000 each per episode... bearing in mind that they work four hours a week! Officially making theirs the best-paid part-time job in the UNIVERSE). This is exactly the sort of thing that is going to finally sink the mighty ship, and if it's true, I'd like to personally smack the actors upside the head. They're already getting a hundred and twenty-five grand per.... and for four hours a week. Fucking suck it up already.

Now, check this out:

They nailed Violet. I mean, that is just fucking spectacular. Count Olaf's a good design, but I suspect Carrey's going to Grinch it up oldschool and ruin things. The only misstep here is Klaus, who should be... y'know, short. And wide. And brainy-looking.

Finally, for you tubers who (like me) are trying to decide if it's even worthwhile to pay your cable bill over the summer, The Amazing Race 5 starts on July 6, and is almost certainly going to be way better than Survivor: All-Stars. Who knew one could ever miss Phil Keoghan?

Well, it beats basket weaving
Apr 1 2004 - 3:21 p.m.

Yep, I'm with the funny. And it's always nice to know you've successfully cultivated a public perception of yourself as an insane and dangerously unpredictable recluse who would happily abandon all he knows and loves at a moment's notice without warning of any kind, leading to innumerable phone calls and e-mails to make sure I actually still live here.

Here's my morning:

• Matthew left a very complimentary message on my machine at 8:30.
• Courtney sent me an e-mail shortly thereafter.
• Chad called at 9:30. Owing to his overworked schedule lately, he asked me when my flight was and whether he could get his Willow figs before I went.
• Chris and Brandy made with the e-mails at ten to ten.
• Mer called at 10:20 to make sure it wasn't actually true, and then to encourage me to do something exactly like this, for real, right away.
• Jason called at 10:35. He too had forgotten to flip his calendar.
• And then finally, just after noon, Bex e-mailed me a single line: "what in the hell is going on?"

I'm just funnin' ya. Boy I like saying "funnin'." I think I like it more than "gorram" or "rutting" or even "poetical."

Well anyways. All of the folks mentioned above will receive a free "I Got Blogged at Tederick.com" button, when said buttons have completed their torturous production process. Also, for folks who missed it, my SURVIV.ORg gag amuses me immensely, though it lacks for the elaborate.

In the bad news department, looks like my move out of Pape & Danforth may be delayed by two months. This puts a crimp on my financial situation, obviously, but also just kinda changes the mouth-flavour of my summer. Meh. It's still sinking in, and nothing's final yet, but it's a thing.

Wonderfalls has been moved out of the Friday Night Death Slot That Killed Firefly, to Thursday nights at 9! Perfect filling for a Survivor/ER sandwich.

I am a working machine today, I tells ya. I don't know what's going on, but given that I'm going on about two and a half hours of sleep, I think it's pretty damned impressive!

Um, well, the thing is...
Apr 1 2004 - 12:00 a.m.

I guess this is going to come as a bit of a shock to most people, because unfortunately I've only been able to let a very small handful of folks in on the big secret thus far, but... yeah. I'm out. I've been crafting plans for this for some time now, and with just barely enough money in my savings to make it happen, I've decided to go for it. It scares the living hell out of me because I've never done anything like this before, but I figure as long as I'm still reasonably young and healthy, I oughta give it a shot. So I'm outta here.

Depending on what side of the International Date Line you live on, by this time tomorrow, I'll be in Sydney. I've got some (very, very, very) distant family down there, so it's always seemed like the best place from which to start something like this. I'm hoping to hit New Zealand at some point, obviously, and I've still got that mad chocolate craving to see Japan. That might be way the hell out of the price range though.

The good news is, I'm still hoping to blog... probably once a month or so unfortunately, but at least there will be fun pictures and (one hopes) amusing anecdotes.

I know this is a surprise, but I figured what the fuck, except for Harry Potter, the summer was gonna suck anyway. I'm roughly targeting to be back in T.O. in time for the festival, but I don't want to rush myself. Till then, have fun! See you on the other side of the world!

-Matt                

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