Onions, Wolves, and Wikis

There are several reasons why The Onion is America's Finest News Source.

(Keep in mind, about half of those links are taken from last week's issue. Those motherfuckers do this stuff every week. I love them.)

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My house in Mississauga has TMN OnDemand, a digital cable service that offers a selection of movies, most of which are on that edge of new between going to video and getting onto regular cable. This is, contrary to popular belief and all logic, not at all a good thing for me. Allow me to elaborate.

There's this thing that happens in my mind, when I've a buffet of essentially free things waiting for me. The TMNOD selection's decent for being functionally costless - there are a variety of genres, most of the movies have left theatres within the last six months, and those that they offer from the more distant past are generally solid pieces for whatever they're trying to be (an example - right now I could watch War of the Worlds, Junebug, The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Corpse Bride, and Four Brothers, plus about a dozen others). There are, of course, the exceptions, the bad, pseudo-popular movies that flesh out the menu, like burgers at Red Lobster.

Now, if I'm going into a theatre, or even a video store, I'll strive to find something that I'll like, something dimensional or entertaining. This has mostly to do with the fact that I am spending money. I am making a tiny investment into entertaining myself, and I want to make sure that I'm going to yield a return. You could call me a conservative entertainment broker, but then we'd have to watch this whole analogy rapidly fall apart, and I'd probably just look at you funny, because that's kind of a dumb thing to call me.

But when I'm not putting anything into it but time, I will watch the most inane, forgettable crap without an ounce of guilt.

With TMNOD as my terrible vehicle, and among other things, I've watched Assault on Precinct 13, Bad Boys 2, Vlad, My Little Eye (which I was convinced was called I Spy for a second, and found the strangest and most terrifying IMDB entry of all time), and now, Cry_Wolf.

Cry_Wolf is another in the endless march of slasher flicks that do absolutely nothing new in an unbalanced way, centred on a gimmick to sell itself to a teen audience in a burst of a one-weekend box office gross that yields a profit for the studio, like a teenaged boy having really inadequate sex for the first time.

Its performances are dreadful (which you'd expect from such a hackneyed script), the direction is uninspired, and the plot does absolutely nothing new - it runs like a terrible version of Scream mixed with an extremely watered-down The Usual Suspects.

Which is exactly what I should have expected. It's what I did expect, in fact. The reason it gets my back up is that the slasher genre gets this shit done to it every time. It had a run of successes back in the eighties, made a ton of money, and then everyone in the goddamn world decided that, unlike every other genre of film, they didn't need to do anything new with it, just spit out the same stories told in the same way to the same people, over and over and over again. Occasionally, the bull-headed passion of the B-movie sect shines through, but generally we're getting mid-budget garbage.

I mean, there's even a grain of potential in Cry_Wolf. You can see someone, somewhere, behind the scenes, grasping desperately at threads of ideas and themes that, were they woven together and presented with confidence and vision, could have been a really great film. But instead we get the ghosts of that, we get the impression that someone was thinking, but that impression is ulimately drown in the lights.

Sometimes, something like The Descent happens, and you think, maybe there's hope. And then you realise that, while people are figuring out the other sub-genres of horror (the suspense-thriller, the psychological), none of them even seem to care about the slasher.

Hopefully, Tarantino gets it right with his half of Grind House, but, then, he usually gets it right. Hopefully, people will learn.

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One last thing: I'm sure many of you have realised this by now, but Wikipedia is the ultimate time killer. I've wasted countless hours on the bloody thing - particularly in its untold pages on comics and graphic novels - but there's the constant, nagging consideration of veracity and reputability behind it all. When you've got a pseudo-scholarly work cobbled together by what is the Internet equivalent of a rambunctious mob, what have you really got?

The indefatigably wonderful Mr. Gaiman linked a couple of articles about the thing on his journal recently that I think you should read. One is from the New Yorker, and is remarkably informative, balanced, and decidedly long.

The other is from The Onion.

Good night.

Watchpost

What follows are things that require (or will require) a viewing.

First things first. You will immediately go and watch the pilot for The Amazing Screw-On Head. It's a show based on a Mike Mignola comic (the man who created Hellboy - go look at the online comics section to get a feel for Mignola's art, and the style of the comic, which differs subtly from the movie) of the same name. You will then fill out the survey, and tell them that you love it. Go. I'll wait.

... Done? Good. Back to business.

I'm in a listful mood, lately:

The Must See Movies of 2006, So Far
1. Brick
2. Inside Man
3. Superman Returns
4. V for Vendetta
5. Thank You for Smoking

The Must See Movies of 2006, Upcoming
1. The Prestige
2. Children of Men
3. The Fountain
4. The Science of Sleep
5. The Illusionist
Honourable Mentions: Casino Royale and Hollywoodland

(Those are both in a very rough order)

When I was originally writing those lists, of an evening, bored and avoiding the writing of plays that I should be doing, I commented (to myself, largely, echoing in my empty house) that it's strange that, on the first list, there are two blockbusters (Superman, V for Vendetta), two reasonably large, widely released movies (Inside Man, and Thank You for Smoking, although the latter was quiet about itself), and one film that I had to go to Princess Twin to see (Brick), and on the second list, I'm expecting that I'll have to see every one of them at Princess. Children of Men, The Fountain, and The Illusionist might make their way to Galaxy, or AMC, but I'm expecting each of them to make a Princess run at some point.

So, anyway, I found it interesting that one of the movies (Superman, say) from the first half of the year that I think of as "must-see" will probably make more money than all five of the movies I have to see before the year's out. I imagine this has something to do with the fact that, after the summer season, the blockbusters trundle away into their gaping caves and the arthouse pictures decide to fling open the doors to the cellars and crawl blinking into the light, hoping that, until Christmas, at least, they'll be able to get around the theatres without being blotted by neo-blaxploitation comedy based on forty-year-old Loony Toons sketches.

(As a tangent, I love The Fountain already, without having seen it, purely because of the way Darren Aronofsky pulled it off. From what I'm given to understand, this is the way it worked: Aronofsky was slated to start filming the thing back in 2002 or '03, with Brad Pitt in the lead role. But Pitt had to drop it to work on Troy. At the time, Aronofsky was going to go on and do Batman: Year One, but that was handed over to someone else, and eventually ended up in Christopher Nolan's hands [who's directing The Prestige, incidentally], I think because Nolan was originally going to do Batman vs Superman, which was tossed because of the plans to make Superman, which got delayed... anyway. So The Fountain was gutted. But Aronofsky didn't give up. He liked the story and the idea so much that he rewrote it as a graphic novel, and published it, with Kent Williams illustrating [it's going into a soft cover run very soon]. The graphic novel was a hit [and, since it was a graphic novel, that meant it was a cult hit, rather than the big blockbuster sort of thing you get with Da Vinci Codes] and garnered enough attention that he was able to revive the film, with a slightly smaller budget and a different star, and is now, finally, seeing it released. It proves to me that he's a man who loves story more than industry and finance, and that's important to me)

In terms of television, I urge anyone with the time to do some downloading to find what they can of HBO's Carnivale. I've mentioned it before, but it really was an incredible show (before it was cruelly cancelled, before it's third season). It did things that few shows are willing to do, in ways that no one was thinking of, and telling stories that were entertaining, thought-provoking, a little frightening, and always wonderful. Plus, I've just manged to snag some of the second season, and am thoroughly enjoying myself.

And, just for kicks, the movies that I'm pretty sure I'll need to see in 2007 (these are in no order at all):
Spider-Man 3
TMNT
The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

And let it henceforth be known that every one of you will want to see Stardust when you hear more about it, and remember that you heard it from me, first.

Post Script: There are twenty-two links in this post. I expect you to click every one. And if you're worried about windows, tab-browse fer Chrissake.

Post Post Script: Twenty-three.

An Open Letter to My Customers (and Their Associates)

Dear People I Have to Call Every Fucking Day, Their Family Members, and the Other People who Pick Up the Goddamn Phone,

Hi. I'm the polite little automaton that calls you and leaves a message every day on your answering machine, or voicemail, or with a co-worker. Or with your son, or daughter, or that old man who lives in your house but isn't related to you and has arthritis and loves to talk about it. Or sometimes, even with you.

Now, I'm not angry at you or anything. Let's get that straight. I'm just doing my job. But you've picked up these little habits that, y'know, get on my nerves. They grind at me. They itch.

They enrage me beyond rational discourse.

Hahahah. Hahah. Ha. Ha.

Ah, but there's hope. You, too, can be among the hallowed throng that don't make me want to commit base and foul murder on a regular (in fact, daily!) basis. You, too, can save your immortal soul from wherever I drag it when my rage punches a hole in the fabric of reality and opens a portal to whatever lurks on the other side of Hell -

Excuse me.

Here's a list of pieces of advice that you will tattoo on your heart:

1. Answer your goddamn phone. Even if you are asleep, or eating - if you owe a goddamn car payment, you will answer your phone, or I will send a bailiff to your door, who will terrify you, take your car, and then send you the bill.
   
2. If you're not around your phone that often, buy a fucking answering machine. They cost twenty bucks. You don't even have to record a message. There are automated messages. You don't even have to fucking do anything, just plug it in. Just as long as it will record my voice, telling you that you owe me money. And if I have to sit there, listening to your phone ring, every day, I will put you in time out. And, unlike when you were four, it will cost you thousands of dollars.
   
3. If you do record a message, so help me God you will make it short, sweet, and to the point. You will not include an anecdote, or some stupid fucking joke. You will not make it witty or personable, because you will fail. You will absolutely not sing a song. Let me tell you something that you might not know: clever answering machine messages are never fucking clever. They are annoying, they are boring, and they make me angry, which is not good for you. It is, in fact, very bad for you. Because when I am angry, I'm less likely to give a fuck about the fact that you don't have a job, or that your damn parakeet just died. In fact, I'm much more likely to take your cat, strip it for parts at a body shop, and then send them back to you in the mail, one by one. And no. I didn't just misspell "car".
   
4. Even if your message is short and to the point, you will make sure that you are speaking a language into the damn microphone. And I don't mean that you can't speak in a language that isn't English, or with an accent. That's cool with me, man, I like accents. But you will fucking enunciate. You will speak so that other human beings can actually understand what you are saying, and not just infer or intimate a communicated thought. I don't want to hear you mumble, or the sound of a strangled alien. I'd rather not hear the voice of Cthulhu rising from sunken R'lyeh every time I call you. And Lorne, the man I call every week, you douchebag. Lorne, you need to sober the fuck up.
   
5. Why is your baby always crying in the background of your answering machine message? Record it while they are asleep. They take naps.
   
6. Check. Your. Fucking. Messages. When you're done listening, delete them. If your voicemail or whatever is full for more than a day, all that indicates to me is that you're avoiding my messages, and see above about making me angry, and the things I do to pets.
   
7. If you do get on the phone with me, goddamn your eyes, you will wake the fuck up, and stop pretending that you're sick. I've been here all goddamn day. You're not buying sympathy by pretending you have a sore throat. My throat is sore all the time. From yelling at you.
8. Never assume that you get to tell me what to do. That's not the case. You're the delinquent, motherfucker. You're the one about to lose their car, and their credit. Beyond the fact that, generally, you're wrong about whatever you think is supposed to have happened, I have people to back me up, and the fact that I didn't miss a goddamn car payment. At the Job, the customer is almost never right.
9. Don't lie to me about your car. I'll find out. It's my job. And when I do, you will be sorry. I promise.
10. Make your goddamn car payments right fucking now.

If you follow those easy steps, I guarantee that I probably won't come to your house and torture you with a battery and some gasoline.

Love and kisses,

Crawl In A Hole And Die

The Big Switch

I've moved my blog. Reblogged? Yes. That might be the appropriate term.

I've a couple of reasons for reblogging:

1. I've always wanted to try blogging actually using Blogger. It seems almost fated. Plus, many of my favourite blogs use Blogger as a template, and theys fancy.


2. This'll hopefully be the homebase/launching pad for a e-/print zine that I really want to get on its feet, mostly as a way to get writing and keep writing, and to write for an audience, and to keep deadlines, and to get some minimal experience with editing and publishing.


3. While perhaps not as powerful as a paid Livejournal account (and it might be, I haven't toyed around with it enough yet), it also doesn't cost anything, and is pretty damn user-friendly and customizable. Plus (and more importantly), I've always found blogspots more accessible and aesthetically pleasing than LJs, especially to people who don't have an account (and I hope that, eventually, we'll get an audience of some small size).


4. Fuck off, that's why.

You'll notice some changes. The name, for one thing - it's borrowed from an idea in a Sandman comic by Neil Gaiman called "A Tale of Two Cities" (it's in a book called World's End that you should probably read, after you read the preceding seven Sandman trades). The quote is up there. He also, around the same time, I imagine, wrote an essay for SIMCITY that must have inspired the story, or been inspired by it, that's always been one of my favourite short idea-pieces. Also, I've abandoned the "In which" device for the post titles, for the purposes of approachability, under the presumption that most people will look at a post with slighlty lower eyebrows if its not titled using conventions from Victorian fiction. I'm sure it'll pop up again, with occasion and much pomp.

Also, you'll notice the transformation of all furniture into urban lounge gear, and that I've hung some new art on the walls. (By the way, most of those links [the artsy parts] were hijacked from
the Fabulist, a place you should really go visit and fawn over)

So that's it for an introduction. It's nice to be back to blogging, even if no one in particular is reading any of this. Yet.