Dinner last night (and lunch today) was created from impromptu cross-breeding between leftovers. Sometimes this practice can yield the most delicious dishes:
fry a handful of (salted) cashews in a frying pan on medium-low heat until browned
meanwhile, break up leftover white rice in a mixing bowl & toss with plenty of olive oil and a bit of crushed red pepper & fresh-ground black pepper
add rice to pan and fry together, but the trick here is to not stir too much! press down firmly with spatula, then let sit for a few minutes
dash with tamari sauce and repeat a few times
chop up a bundle of fresh enoki mushrooms
dice half an avocado
layer rice in a bowl with the enoki
top with avocado
drizzle with balsamic reduction (aged balsamic vinegar has the same thick sweetish texture)
There is something so sensual - so earthy, meaty, and delicious - about decay. It suffuses our pores and nostrils and surrounds us in clouds of motes of dust and pollen. That lush richness can never be approached by the bright one-dimensionality of crisp naive newness. Only with decay, with the crumbling excesses of intermingling mediums, does the light thicken and beauty unfurl in a palpable show of decorousness.
In a NY Times article about a tiny fragrance store that is rife with "papal sumptuousness", Cintra Wilson writes: I once read that the French believe a woman isn’t truly beautiful until she is touched by decay. Societies older than ours, decorated by the detritus of collapsed empires, have a deeper appreciation for entropy and its wisdom, fungi and ferment. Soft cheese, mushrooms, wines, older women and little luxuries — purified essences that evoke sensations of the past — make the certainty of mortality just so much sexier. Add dried pomegranates and taxidermy, and you’ve got a little slice of heaven.
You'd think it took an existentialist film director to make a movie that contains none of the components identified in the film title, but you'd be wrong. Despite the fact that "Teenagers from Outer Space" is oddly existentialist in many ways, I am willing to bet a fair amount of money that Tom Graeff (movie-maker extraordinaire) was not an existentialist in any way. Although he may have become one after completing this timeless classic.
It's true, folks. There are no teenagers in "Teenagers from Outer Space," and there are also no trips to or from - or even stock footage of - outer space. There are, however, several men in their late 20s to mid 30s who seemed disproportionately fond of tucking their jumpsuit pant legs into their shoes.
Tom Graeff not only wrote, directed, produced and edited this delightful gem of a movie, he even starred in a supporting role as the plucky reporter who ends up getting the girl back after her brief fling with Martian-Man is cut short by an unfortunate incident with a bushel of oversize shellfish. I wish that sentence were the result of a sudden blow to the head, but sadly it is an accurate description of this film's gripping finale. But wait, there's more! Wikipedia informs us that Mr. Tom Graeff also did the "cinematography, special effects, and music coordination." This man was a maestro of film creation.
The thing about this eminently forgettable little black & white alien-invasion redux is that it's just painfully boring. Luckily the boys of the Satellite of Love (aka Joel, Crow, and Tom Servo) are able to keep us laughing as the Harry Connick Jr.-lookalike alien meets a girl and then runs around town making lots of phone calls and being worried. But nothing really happens, other than a few people being turned into plastic life-size skeletons by a disintegrator ray that looks like a metal tube of toothpaste (thanks Crow, I'm stealing that analogy because it's so true). Subtle foreshadowing in the opening scenes leads the viewer to believe that perhaps there will be an enormous lobster rampaging the city later on, and luckily we are not disappointed. However, the lobster itself looks like someone is holding a plastic lobster in front of the projecter in the movie theatre and causing a 20-foot lobster shadow to appear on the screen. I honestly think that may be how they made that effect.
Sadly, the MST3K boys didn't make a single joke about finding a giant vat of melted butter, but good times were still had by all and the giant lobster was taken down with a jolt of telephone wire electricity, right before the lead "teen" alien hunk self-immolated in order to save Earth from all the other giant lobsters that were descending through the atmosphere.
Oh, just rent it already. A giant lobster? What more do you need??
I did NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in November (write a 50,000 word novel during the month), and now the same people are hosting Script Frenzy in April. The Second Annual Script Frenzy, to be exact. The goal is to write a 100-page screenplay during the month. My only issue is whether to continue working on my existing one (half done with the first draft) or start on a brand-new one. I like the new idea, but I think the original idea has real merit, and my friend who has actually written screenplays (and whose advice therefore carries a good bit of weight on this topic) has stated that he feels strongly I should stick with the existing one.
However. The Script Frenzy website features a "Plot Machine" that randomly sticks together three descriptive phrases to create a seemingly-endless series of hilariously stupid plot one-liners. After a few clicks and several combinations that were mildly amusing, I stumbled onto a plot that is good enough to make me want to pay $9.50 to see the movie based solely on the one-line description:
"In a world where cats are currency, a traveling Bible salesman teams up with David Bowie to save the world."
Originally released in 1984, but no less bizarre nearly a quarter of a century later, "The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension" is one of those movies that truly defies description.
And yet, it's totally different than other movies I would describe that way, like "The Holy Mountain." This movie is more like a fevered dream you might have after watching Ghostbusters, Back to the Future, and a whole bunch of Devo videos all in one afternoon. For most of the movie I had no idea what was going on, which really didn't affect my enjoyment in any way. The simple fact is that it's weirdly wonderful in its higgledy-piggledy craziness.
A whole lot of characters who look vaguely familiar spend a lot of time dressed in outrageously '80s garments, talking about some sort of other dimension and how to reach it. There's a watermelon, aliens, an Asian scientist who is played by a young man poorly made up to look like an old man, plenty of '80s jackets with big pockets and superfluous flaps, a character named "Perfect Tommy" who really is, Jeff Goldblum in fuzzy chaps and a cowboy shirt, spaceships that look like rusty seashells, and even an alien slug creature (albeit a small one).
My friend that showed me the movie commented partway through that "it's really better the second time around," and although I enjoyed the first viewing, I am inclined to believe him in his opinion that I will enjoy it more the next time I see it.
But I already know one thing...I want to be a Hong Kong Cavalier when I grow up!
Here is the first thing I said after watching Doomsday on Friday night:
"That was like being strapped to a chair and being forced to watch (simultaneously) Road Warrior, Escape from New York, and Resident Evil, all on double-fast speed, while buckets of pig blood are poured on you and everything else around you."
Upon reflection, I think that still sums it up pretty well.
I also commented that it was "like a 2-hour orgasm," simply because when it was finally over, I was so exhausted and drained that I couldn't even get up from my chair until the credits were nearly over.
So. Doomsday. This movie just came out and hasn't been getting nearly as much press as it should. When it does get mentioned, it gets lumped into the B-rated gory action flick category, which it is...but it's really not a B-movie. It's actually very well done. It's an homage movie, not a rip-off movie as others have described it, and I think it will become an important piece in the apocolypse movie genre.
My only complaints are that it should have had less gore, and more discussion of what it means to live in a post-apocalyptic world. I was very interested to hear what Sol, the main crazy punk leader would have had to say if he'd stopped yelling and waving his tongue around, but he was never allowed to even slow down, let alone stop long enough to discuss his views. There was also a lot of over-the-top gore, which cheapened the film and made it feel like it was pandering to current vogues in film-making.
Two interesting concepts that came to my mind while watching this film: The first was the idea that in a post-apocalyptic society, not all people may regress the same way. In the Doomsday world, the survivors of the Reaper virus splinter into two factions: the crazy punk kids and the Middle Ages castle-dwellers. It's interesting to consider how and why people might follow different movements, depending upon what they espoused or promised. I can certainly see the desire to regress to an earlier time, before the technologies that could be considered by some to have gotten them into the mess.
The second was the concept that at this point, most people have seen or know of post-apocalyptic "design concepts" like those of Road Warrior. If an apocalypse really did happen, people might consciously or sub-consciously begin to model their new "societies" after those that had previously been created and portrayed for entertainment. The punks in Doomsday felt so self-referential to Road Warrior, I could have believed that those kids were actually watching the movie as a reference for how to dress and act. (It's not so impossible to believe that a DVD player and DVDs of these movies remained in existence.) What an odd and mind-bending concept, no? To consider that future anarchists might be mimicking the actions and dress portrayed in the art we create now as theoretical visions of the future?
In conclusion, go see this movie. Unless you don't like gore, and then definitely, definitely see something else instead.
There's a thoughtful and well-written article in this week's New York Times Magazine about young transmen who are struggling to find their way through their new identities. The article focuses specifically on the experience of coming out as a transman at a women's college, with comments and narrative from one such young transman throughout the story. I'm glad to see the topic being addressed in such a positive and mature way - the journalist does a very good job - and I'm particularly pleased to think how many people will be reading this article. Education is one step at a time, but an article like this placed in the NYT Magazine can go a long way toward opening minds and sparking awareness.
Double header! Because I watched this last night...hadn't seen it for about 10 years. [spoilers up ahead]
Rosemary's Baby is deliberate and methodical. This is a good thing, because it means you experience her slow loss of sanity along with her. Ruth Gordon does an excellent job as the nosy neighbor who turns out to be a witch and worshipper of Satan, along with her husband, played by Sidney Blackmer. What makes it so creepy is that the two of them aren't just "pretending" to be a little old couple that likes dinner parties and Lipton tea...they really are those people while also worshipping Satan. Usually in horror films, there's an inevitable moment when the "friendly nurse/child/neighbor/girlfriend" begins cackling maniacally and transforms into some sort of half-beast, crying out, "I fooled you and now you belong to Satan!!" That never happens in this movie. In fact, one of the scariest moments of the final scene is when Rosemary drops the butcher knife she is brandishing, and it lodges in the neighbors' wooden floor. Ruth Gordon hurries over and pulls it out of the floor, not to get it away from Rosemary, but to lean over and rub the gouge in the wood with her thumb while tsking. It's a bizarre and brilliant melding that drives home the surreal reality of the entire movie.
Some people wouldn't find this movie very scary, especially nowadays. But if you think about the fact that it was released in 1968, and watch it letting yourself get sucked into the dreamlike state it can produce in the viewer, you will come away from it shaking your head and feeling a bit creeped out. The final moments of the film seem to make so much sense in that instant.
On a lighter note, I watched this movie with one of my best friends, and right after the Satan rape scene, I turn to him to say, "Wow, I do not remember that at all." I see that in fact he's asleep - he must have passed out just before that scene began. I poke him and he opens his eyes to see me gaping at him, so he says, "Did I miss something?" Uh, yeah...just the part where Satan rapes Mia Farrow. I said, "If you have to ask that, then yeah, you definitely did." He says, "Should we go back?", and I say, "Yeaah...I think that's a good idea."
I am going to blatantly steal an idea from my friend, namely to do 100 entries on different movies as I see them. But I don't feel badly stealing the concept, since my blog isn't public and I don't tell anyone about it, so it's really just for me.
What better movie to kick things off than the movie considered by many to be the #1 worst movie of all time, "Manos, the Hands of Fate." This timeless classic was the brain child of a fertilizer salesman from Texas, who committed the triple sin of being writer, director, and producer. Wikipedia describes how the "small crew became so bemused by his amateurishness and irascibility that they derisively called the movie Mangos, the Cans of Fruit behind his back." Yep, sounds about right.
I watched the MST3K version of this movie, which is (of course) hysterically funny. The first 15 minutes of endless pans across fields while the 3 guys repeat the words "Manos, hands of fate" in increasingly somber voices is one of my all-time favorite MST3K bits. But really the very best part of the movie is the final scene, where the words "The End ?" appear on-screen, causing Joel, Tom Servo, and Crow to cry out in horror at the possibility of more Manos yet to come.
I would welcome a sequel..."Pies, Feet of Fate", anybody? But only if Joel, Tom Servo, and Crow were there with me every frame of the way.
I have so many projects that I haven't worked on anytime recently. I need to put aside a weekend and just be crafty!!
- Alabastra (WoW toon) action figure - blue polka-dot skirt - rooster skirt - the rest of the Mario Bros. pillows - build a custom desk
Plus so many t-shirt designs that I don't even know where to start. I have to buy some good t-shirts that will be fitted/flattering but also take iron-on images.
Let's see...I have about 400g on my main. Probably 3-400 more between all the little wallets of my other toons.
What's that? I only need 1000g for my flying mount? And 5000g more immediately after that, because I can't even start on my Netherwing rep grind until I can buy the next rank of flying?
"The Motivations Assessment" - designed to assess our roles in MMORPGS (take it here)
My results were average on "Achievement", low on "Social", and high on "Immersion." That's probably what I would have guessed if I had tried to predict how I would measure.
It is a beautiful Saturday afternoon. I have a brand-spanking-new monitor. It's WoW-playing time!! Go to log on, and oh joy of joys. Blizzard is having technical difficulties. The screen has been at "Authenticating..." for Far Too Long. Grrrr................................
WHY, NO!! VIDEO GAMES DO NOT MAKE ME VIOLENT WHY DO YOU ASK??
Don't you hate it when your sock starts to creep lower and lower on your foot and you can't reach it inside your boot, until it's all crumpled up under your heel and you finally have to take off your shoe to try to wrangle the sock back up into place??
Yeah.
I just changed to a new pair, and as I was taking the offender off, I looked at it and suddenly discovered that I was thinking, "Now that's a sock to watch out for," in some sort of foreboding voice a la The Tick.
You know you're in trouble when your socks are developing tiny evil personalities, AND your brain knows it.
I have been savoring The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon for over two years now. I first started it during summer before last in LA, then inadvertently left it, half-read, in a box of long-term storage. I rediscovered it when I returned in July, and picked it up again a few months ago. Of course I went back and began again at page one. You have to, with a book that is that good.
This book novel is amazing. Truly incredible. Chabon writes with a lyricism and meatiness that I can taste, like drinking strong green tea or eating a very ripe peach. I reread so many of his descriptions over and over again, but it's not just the descriptions - it's everything. The characters, the story arcs, the return of previous themes, the...the...words fail me in describing how wonderful he is as a writer.
I'm close to the end now, and usually with books I love, I begin to enter a mourning period as I near the close of the book. I am irritated that the writer couldn't just keep on going, forever and ever, following the characters endlessly. But somehow, I don't feel that with this book. I feel reassured that it will end just when it's supposed to do so.
I read it during my morning walks, which means about 20 minutes of it each day. Unlike trash books, I read it slowly, digesting each word with an avid love for the layers of story. That is how it's managed to last me two months. I now have only about 35 pages to go.
So many passages hold such incredible beauty that I could go on for pages quoting them all. There are two, however, that caused an extremely specific and unexpected reaction in me. In the case of each of these passages, I read them with a surprised sense of realization that they described me, described a state of mind that I experience regularly, yet had never been able to put into words. Both of them describe sensations that I've experienced with an almost-painful sensitivity over the years, and have been tormented by being unable to express exactly how I felt in those moments. Then Chabon comes along, and crystallizes those sensations into phrases so perfect that they cause the breath to catch in my throat. It makes me want to write a letter to him, just to tell him how much these two passages mean to me:
"...Tommy had grown impatient. Such impatience - a tightening in his chest, a tapping of his feet, a feeling like the need to urinate - unbearable at times, always seemed to come over him whenever he came across something he could not figure out." - p. 499
"It was absurd, but underlying his experience of the world, at some deep Precambrian stratum, was the expectation that someday - but when? - he would return to the earliest chapters of his life. It was all there - somewhere - waiting for him. He would return to the scenes of his childhood, to the breakfast table of the apartment off the Graben, to the Oriental splendor of the locker room at the Militärund Civilschwimmschule; not as a tourist to their ruins, but in fact; not by means of some enchantment, but simply as a matter of course." - p. 602
It gives my soul a deep, soothing sense of closure to read these sentences and see my intangible emotions laid out so simply, so cleanly, and with such assured grace.
I discovered a short (30-question) quiz that identifies what sort of an MMORPG player you are. It's actually been around since the days of MUDs, but is still very applicable. It's interesting, and I think their 4 categories (Achiever, Explorer, Killer, Socializer) are valid and applicable. It would be fun to look at the data breakdown between genders, ages, games, etc.
I came up as an "ESAK": "ESAK players often see the game world as a great stage, full of things to see and people to meet. They love teaming up with people to get to the hard-to-see places, and they relish unique experiences.
"Breakdown: Achiever 46.67%, Explorer 80.00%, Killer 20.00%, Socializer 53.33%"
While this isn't a surprise to me - exploring Outlands has become my new passion to such a degree that all I can think about is how I could manage to get my lvl 39 rogue there without her being smeared across the ground - it's still intriguing to see such a clear breakdown. I hadn't realized how much of a Socializer I am, especially considering how much I love solo-play (and how much I generally dislike PUGs (Pick-Up Groups)).
The site goes on to say:
"The Bartle Test was originally designed for players of MUDs (multi-user dungeons) but continues to have applicability to virtual worlds of all kinds--especially MMORPGs. The test attempts to measure a player based on what they enjoy most about a game, based on four axes:
I splurged on organic milk this week, since I wanted the glass bottles. They fit into the refrigerator door, and both look nicer and are more space-efficient than those ugly plastic jugs. I figured I would get a luxurious week of organic milk, then go back to my normal Vons milk and just refill the glass containers.
But, oh! This organic milk! My first glass, my first sip - I was in dairy heaven. Despite being skim, it tasted smooth and creamy, with a flavour that was distinctly different than my regular milk. Undoubtedly due to both being organic, and being packaged in glass rather than plastic, the difference is small but very tangible on the tongue.
My housemate insists that the cat is addicted to it. (I told her that if that were the case, the cat could spend its days pick-pocketing joggers in the neighborhood in order to afford its share of the milk.) It's twice the price of my regular Vons milk, at least. And yet, on some level I've already made the decision to continue buying this organic milk.
I just had a flash of memory. When I lived in Philadelphia, I discovered a brand of milk - organic, now that I think about it - that was luscious, creamy, and all-around beautiful to the tongue. (I can even remember the name: Natural by Nature). I rarely found it in stores, but when I did, what a treat. Now it's back again, under another brand!
Life is short. For $5 more, I get to drink amazingly delicious milk every day. It is undeniably worth it.
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