...because actually I was working and I knew I could catch the results on the web when I had the time. Although I haven't yet seen Million Dollar Baby, I find it hard to believe it could beat out the Aviator for best director, especially due to the difference of scale each project had. Scorsese is one of the all time greats, and I don't understand why he has yet to be recognised for his work.
The best surprise for me was that Charlie Kaufman won the oscar for Best Screenplay, 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind', a movie which I thoroughly enjoyed. I've read three of his scripts, and he is very adept at writing quirky, profound and intelligent stories. I would like to be able to do what he does some day. Some of his screenplays are available for public perusal...
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Can you pass third grade geography?
To my embarrassment I had to do this twice to pass.
Props to DS for making me feel young (and stupid) again...
Props to DS for making me feel young (and stupid) again...
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Cute ways to Kill
if you ever thought that regular handguns are just not cute enough, here are a couple which might appeal to your japanese female sensibilities.
i'm looking forward to when they come out with the pokemon cruise missile...
i'm looking forward to when they come out with the pokemon cruise missile...
Monday, February 21, 2005
Marketing the Babyspace
i heard about this item on the news the other night. i'm not sure i understand it since there is no shortage of places to advertise in more conventional locations.
probably the next step is to use well looked at spaces on the female body (such as the butt or the breasts) to advertise brake repairs or chimey sweeping. i think females should be encouraged to embrace the marketing mentality...
probably the next step is to use well looked at spaces on the female body (such as the butt or the breasts) to advertise brake repairs or chimey sweeping. i think females should be encouraged to embrace the marketing mentality...
Sunday, February 20, 2005
magna carta
i. my butt itches
i buy 10 rolls of toilet paper to feel mundane and appeased. please please please. don’t squeeze the duck. oh fuck. my chew toy used to bring me luck. i threw the throw rug across the room. it rained dust like powdered custard. mustard spots sprinkle the dishes in the sink. flecks of pink cat food calcify on the brink of becoming rock. my socks too will calcify in time. hush. even compassion will crackle when crushed. i’m bushed. time to water my neo-fuscist tendencies. (no i’m not a fusspot)
this burglary hones my slurp
i make soup with onion broth
burped (in bucolic overtones)
over burning bukowski tomes
drowned in drink and sloth
ii. wigwams warm my wagpole
i shop like anyone’s business shops when anyone shops at my business. i take the bus. milk drinkers make a fuss. political correctness makes me feel erect. my sausages are hickory smoked. come here bitch-ass and bring my rope. i fiddle with borders and cut the tags. glossy mags make help me feel whole. roads are better sloped. the pope rings my phone. control control he croons, coughing occasionally for effect. he swoons my prefect. perfect. let’s flip this reject regent reflex.
iii. ichthyologist’s lament
parched arched wriggling a swansong – or even a sonnet. did someone forget my fishnet bonnet?
iv. molotov made one hell of a cocktail
i’m not much for ranting i prefer pants panting rolled into cuffs at my ankles so spank me, loretta. i like salad with feta. frank rants get chicks by the busload (if they are old and asleep). don’t goad me into a false sense of abuse. i’d rather burn some jiffy pop than brake your caboose.
v. how to disseminate your decolletage
i’m not one to make you stumble over this ass. pass the gas station, i’m full. no, this is hardly bull (you cow). i won’t stand for twiddling. perhaps a tweak. speak to me of political dualism while i flip your flapjacks, you rag bag. flag it, i can’t be fagged.
vi. curtain cacophony
melrose place was once a symbol of the failure of single life. now titans warps time. slime lubricates every smile. it dribbles the chin like a simile.
i buy 10 rolls of toilet paper to feel mundane and appeased. please please please. don’t squeeze the duck. oh fuck. my chew toy used to bring me luck. i threw the throw rug across the room. it rained dust like powdered custard. mustard spots sprinkle the dishes in the sink. flecks of pink cat food calcify on the brink of becoming rock. my socks too will calcify in time. hush. even compassion will crackle when crushed. i’m bushed. time to water my neo-fuscist tendencies. (no i’m not a fusspot)
this burglary hones my slurp
i make soup with onion broth
burped (in bucolic overtones)
over burning bukowski tomes
drowned in drink and sloth
ii. wigwams warm my wagpole
i shop like anyone’s business shops when anyone shops at my business. i take the bus. milk drinkers make a fuss. political correctness makes me feel erect. my sausages are hickory smoked. come here bitch-ass and bring my rope. i fiddle with borders and cut the tags. glossy mags make help me feel whole. roads are better sloped. the pope rings my phone. control control he croons, coughing occasionally for effect. he swoons my prefect. perfect. let’s flip this reject regent reflex.
iii. ichthyologist’s lament
parched arched wriggling a swansong – or even a sonnet. did someone forget my fishnet bonnet?
iv. molotov made one hell of a cocktail
i’m not much for ranting i prefer pants panting rolled into cuffs at my ankles so spank me, loretta. i like salad with feta. frank rants get chicks by the busload (if they are old and asleep). don’t goad me into a false sense of abuse. i’d rather burn some jiffy pop than brake your caboose.
v. how to disseminate your decolletage
i’m not one to make you stumble over this ass. pass the gas station, i’m full. no, this is hardly bull (you cow). i won’t stand for twiddling. perhaps a tweak. speak to me of political dualism while i flip your flapjacks, you rag bag. flag it, i can’t be fagged.
vi. curtain cacophony
melrose place was once a symbol of the failure of single life. now titans warps time. slime lubricates every smile. it dribbles the chin like a simile.
accessible
my son adam never stops talking.
instead of engaging in inward contemplation he vents all the chatter of his detailed memory including episodes of pokemon, digimon and dragonball z.
meanwhile, i am trying to drive and relax at the same time. lately my drives have become the only times i have any solitude. the drive out to my son's house is a good 30 minutes, which means i can listen to almost all of my groove armada cd in the round trip.
i want to tell him to be quiet, but we haven't seen each other in two weeks. so i listen to his perpetual banter and attempt to respond in a way which at least gives him the illusion that i've heard every word. after 20 minutes, my head starts to throb.
"adam!" i say, trying to interrupt his flow.
"...and then goku said, "you'll never defeat me" and they started to battle and-"
"ADAM!"
"yes dad?"
"please. talk less. say more."
"but i'm just telling you what happened."
"then tell me another time."
adam is quiet for a few uncomfortable minutes.
i eventually feel bad and ask him about his school lessons. this ellicits the short "okay" and "good" answers from him and then silence again. i know that i have stifled something in him.
i can't but feel like he's trying in his own way to reach out to me and catch me up on everything he's experienced in the last fortnight. he's trying to make everything normal since the divorce, to include me in his life and share himself with me. and my requests for silence start to put distance between us a little at a time. i wrestle with this thought as i turn on to the southern motorway.
however, my desire for music and calm overtakes my guilt and i turn up "raisin' the stakes". after a few minutes, i almost forget he's there.
instead of engaging in inward contemplation he vents all the chatter of his detailed memory including episodes of pokemon, digimon and dragonball z.
meanwhile, i am trying to drive and relax at the same time. lately my drives have become the only times i have any solitude. the drive out to my son's house is a good 30 minutes, which means i can listen to almost all of my groove armada cd in the round trip.
i want to tell him to be quiet, but we haven't seen each other in two weeks. so i listen to his perpetual banter and attempt to respond in a way which at least gives him the illusion that i've heard every word. after 20 minutes, my head starts to throb.
"adam!" i say, trying to interrupt his flow.
"...and then goku said, "you'll never defeat me" and they started to battle and-"
"ADAM!"
"yes dad?"
"please. talk less. say more."
"but i'm just telling you what happened."
"then tell me another time."
adam is quiet for a few uncomfortable minutes.
i eventually feel bad and ask him about his school lessons. this ellicits the short "okay" and "good" answers from him and then silence again. i know that i have stifled something in him.
i can't but feel like he's trying in his own way to reach out to me and catch me up on everything he's experienced in the last fortnight. he's trying to make everything normal since the divorce, to include me in his life and share himself with me. and my requests for silence start to put distance between us a little at a time. i wrestle with this thought as i turn on to the southern motorway.
however, my desire for music and calm overtakes my guilt and i turn up "raisin' the stakes". after a few minutes, i almost forget he's there.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Another from the "only in America" file...
Don't bake cookies for your neighbors as a nice gesture, you might give them a heart attack...
It was Waitangi Day yesterday
Waitangi day came and went yesterday, but as a national holiday here in NZ its positivity seems to be increasing. With the mainstream acceptance of Maori culture, it has started to symbolise the elimination of racism and the acceptance of a national identity.
The relevance of this holiday is that a treaty was signed between Maori and the British Crown in 1840, giving the British sovereignty and recognising Maori land rights, thus establishing NZ as a proper nation. The problem was that the English translation of the text varied from the Maori version, and along with departures from the treaty itself by the NZ government, it sowed the seeds of conflict between the two cultures. The result was the establishment of a tribunal which gave a forum for resolving treaty violations and offering compensation to the Tangata Whenua (People of the Land - i.e. Maori). So far, hundreds of millions of dollars has been paid out to various tribes throughout the country.
For a more in depth understanding of the treaty and the issues surrounding it, this website is worth a view.
As a foreigner I've tended to overlook these things as quaint aspects of the place I live, but the significance for NZ shouldn't be underestimated, thus my token gesture to at least raise some awareness of it.
Class dismissed...
The relevance of this holiday is that a treaty was signed between Maori and the British Crown in 1840, giving the British sovereignty and recognising Maori land rights, thus establishing NZ as a proper nation. The problem was that the English translation of the text varied from the Maori version, and along with departures from the treaty itself by the NZ government, it sowed the seeds of conflict between the two cultures. The result was the establishment of a tribunal which gave a forum for resolving treaty violations and offering compensation to the Tangata Whenua (People of the Land - i.e. Maori). So far, hundreds of millions of dollars has been paid out to various tribes throughout the country.
For a more in depth understanding of the treaty and the issues surrounding it, this website is worth a view.
As a foreigner I've tended to overlook these things as quaint aspects of the place I live, but the significance for NZ shouldn't be underestimated, thus my token gesture to at least raise some awareness of it.
Class dismissed...
Sunday, January 30, 2005
I'm Lightly Nerdy
My partner sent me a nerd test for some reason, and I had to do it to prove that I wasn't as much a nerd as she thought. Actually, her favorite term of affection for me is 'geek'...
Thursday, January 20, 2005
It's da bomb
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
she sits
she twists her hair until it binds her hand
in the scuffed corner of some espresso dive
not quite alive but still smouldering,
ember poised over a bland paperback
shades in place despite the hour.
panhandlers do their rounds at the outer tables
partly warded off by the approach of staff
she moves her bag with her feet without changing her stare
her brown strands stay wound like a rope
i glance over my copy of the stranger
shifting my chair with unease
her pale knees closed as if asleep
the breeze from the fan
shuffles the smoke from her face
the place where interest should be
is erased from memory
i circle the word 'deceased' to remind me
like the brown foam on the sides of my bowl
the past is a hole
it hungers and prowls like the haze of dead cigarettes
wiping yellow residue on walls and over eyes
before it lies at your feet and growls when you move.
she watches it linger with the last of her storyline.
a late bus groans by with a howl of air
and the waiter begins his wipedown
the town barely slows in the dark
the glow of coffee hues the skyline
as mercury halos spotlight sooty figures
passing absently beyond the glass
i find no excuse to remain
but she feigns a dream state
insect eyes fixed on the horizon
a model's pose awaiting immortality.
13/1/05
in the scuffed corner of some espresso dive
not quite alive but still smouldering,
ember poised over a bland paperback
shades in place despite the hour.
panhandlers do their rounds at the outer tables
partly warded off by the approach of staff
she moves her bag with her feet without changing her stare
her brown strands stay wound like a rope
i glance over my copy of the stranger
shifting my chair with unease
her pale knees closed as if asleep
the breeze from the fan
shuffles the smoke from her face
the place where interest should be
is erased from memory
i circle the word 'deceased' to remind me
like the brown foam on the sides of my bowl
the past is a hole
it hungers and prowls like the haze of dead cigarettes
wiping yellow residue on walls and over eyes
before it lies at your feet and growls when you move.
she watches it linger with the last of her storyline.
a late bus groans by with a howl of air
and the waiter begins his wipedown
the town barely slows in the dark
the glow of coffee hues the skyline
as mercury halos spotlight sooty figures
passing absently beyond the glass
i find no excuse to remain
but she feigns a dream state
insect eyes fixed on the horizon
a model's pose awaiting immortality.
13/1/05
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Who says the British Education System isn't Working?
This young lady saved 100 lives when she noticed the water being sucked away from the beach in a funny way while holidaying in Phuket.
Now if only the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Hawaii could have been as responsive, more than 100,000 people could still be alive...
Now if only the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Hawaii could have been as responsive, more than 100,000 people could still be alive...
Monday, January 03, 2005
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Hail, hail. Summer is here
Christmas time in NZ is usually the time to go out to the parc, to play in the sprinklers and have barbeques with the family and friends.
This year, however, it has been raining and hailing. Needless to say, people are expecting a white Christmas this year.
I'm just hoping for a bit of heat so I can wear my shorts outside...
This year, however, it has been raining and hailing. Needless to say, people are expecting a white Christmas this year.
I'm just hoping for a bit of heat so I can wear my shorts outside...
Monday, December 20, 2004
Sunday, December 19, 2004
Monday, December 13, 2004
Remains
The radio crackles though wood grain speakers
And I laze with the windows open
Sun drowsing the flies until they walk
Pictures fade in the glare on the west wall
The cedar tree in the front yard tips towards the house
Roots sprawled in the heat clasp the spongy earth
The low roof glances down in silence
To where tomato vines once clung to string
The small bedroom feels hollow
With the mattress lying on the floor
Empty closets behind closed doors resound
The last footsteps in this final act
Cracked weatherboards patched for the sale
Are pale with their mask of paint
Memories that remain faint sketches when covered
Read like stories in the dents and etches
Those with history here can see them
Even the ones burned in the rusted oil barrel
And the sound of almost feral bursts of laughter
Recalled by the ears and nerves who heard
For the man who lived here died here
And left his soul here
Mainly in the dried lawn cut while it was green
And in the screen of a hedge encircled like a fortress wall
That made the large world
The brutal world
Seem more assuring and small.
13/12/04
And I laze with the windows open
Sun drowsing the flies until they walk
Pictures fade in the glare on the west wall
The cedar tree in the front yard tips towards the house
Roots sprawled in the heat clasp the spongy earth
The low roof glances down in silence
To where tomato vines once clung to string
The small bedroom feels hollow
With the mattress lying on the floor
Empty closets behind closed doors resound
The last footsteps in this final act
Cracked weatherboards patched for the sale
Are pale with their mask of paint
Memories that remain faint sketches when covered
Read like stories in the dents and etches
Those with history here can see them
Even the ones burned in the rusted oil barrel
And the sound of almost feral bursts of laughter
Recalled by the ears and nerves who heard
For the man who lived here died here
And left his soul here
Mainly in the dried lawn cut while it was green
And in the screen of a hedge encircled like a fortress wall
That made the large world
The brutal world
Seem more assuring and small.
13/12/04
Thursday, December 09, 2004
love and revolution
i know i've been slack at keeping up with things lately. this has something to do with renovating my home - a project which is finally near completion. i've been reading through a really amazing essay on the nature of greed and smithian economics, and i hope to post something about it in the near future.
until then, here's an item from the washington post on people who have fallen in love and married during the historical protests in the ukraine. i just hope these young people understand that the romance associated with revolution can dissipate once the mundane resumes. though, that said, i don't believe in sure things. either their love will survive the years or it won't...
until then, here's an item from the washington post on people who have fallen in love and married during the historical protests in the ukraine. i just hope these young people understand that the romance associated with revolution can dissipate once the mundane resumes. though, that said, i don't believe in sure things. either their love will survive the years or it won't...
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Sunday, November 21, 2004
U2 dismantles their dangerous nature
like a lot of internet punters, i have been fortunate enough to come across a copy of U2's latest effort, "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb" (HTDAB). initial listenings of the album didn't impress me, although subsequent ones embedded 'Vertigo' into my mental muzac despite a certain meaninglessness to the lyrics - in other words it succeeded as a pop song. most of the songs fall into this category: fairly catchy, safe lyrically and musically and sounding like the U2 that we used to know and love.
although my initial impression was relatively harsh, i still stand behind what i've written (which i've included below) - the release is only impressive if you look at it in terms of the fact that U2 has been around for 25 years and is still making music people will flock to record stores to buy. i'm sure fans will love the album and pack stadiums to see the mythical four perform. they definitely deserve induction into the rock'n'roll hall of fame. that said, this recording doesn't do or say anything new. saying it is a rehash may be too harsh - it is more like a familiar revisitation packaged for commercial consumption.
i can't help but feel somewhat let down by this bland effort which to me pales against classics like "War" "Joshua Tree" and "Achtung Baby". it is also utterly straight-laced (and almost simplistic) compared to the self-reflexive, somewhat dangerous semi-arthouse pop of “Zooropa” and “Pop”. i’m sure bono could go into the complexities and nuances of his lyrics on HTDAB, but as a listener and long time fan, there is not enough to maintain my interest lyrically. then again it is easy for me to be critical being that it is not my album yielded from years of time and effort.
would i go to see U2 in concert given the chance? hell yes. their live performances rock, and they have a mountain of fantastic material to perform. case in point, they recently appeared on the american tv show "Satuday Night Live" and performed three songs on air to rapturous crowds (most perform two) - they played more, but they had to cut off the live feed at 1am. they are legendary musicians and are worth seeing if you have a chance.
that said, i still don't think i could part with the money to buy their latest record. some might say that i’m the one playing it safe by only listening to previous efforts. but i do it in order to maintain a sense of nostalgia about the band i grew up with - one with a rebel spirit and a certain amount of pomposity that embraced the personal and the mystical, the earthly and the divine, the serious and the self-ridiculing to create music that resonates with me. the stuff i hear now is more like rock echoes of the spirit that i used to enjoy so much: it is familiar but ultimately empty.
-cyrusout
posted in blogcritics.org 19/11/04:
i have listened to the album a few times now and my opinion hasn't changed much even though i just caught myself humming the chorus to vertigo...i find that the sound is a polished return to the original U2 sound a la "Boy" with hints of "War" and "Joshua Tree". that said, i found nothing quite as stunning or exciting as on the earlier efforts.
bono's vox sounds a bit strained most of the time and his lyrics don't have that same exciting insightful thoughtfulness as some of the classic U2 tracks. it's almost like they have sold out and are trying very hard to be "U2-ish" in order to prove they haven't lost their soul as a band. most of their lyrics amount to fairly clichéd platitudes about love, god and the world. gone are the statements about politics, the stories of people they knew, and the country they grew up in - in short their sincerity.
pretty music aside, the blandness of the songs makes me indifferent about this effort, which i'm sure will still garner the enthusiasm of fans who really want to like the album and thus get a ton of airplay. i mean, this is 'U-bloody-2' we're talking about, and we are only mere mortals.
don't get me wrong, i really like the musical aspect of the album - it's very clear and cohesive, drawing on the roots of the band's spirit. it's just they lyrics and bono's voice which bother me. although i've had trouble adjusting to all the changes the band have gone through in their lengthy evolution, i've had to respect their drive for some artistic expression, always pushing the boundaries of what they had known and what their fans would tolerate. but this "return" to U2 roots misses lyrically to the same extent that it hits musically. i found nothing soulful, profound, or even vaguely interesting - just a bunch of U2-like songs that wash over me like flotsam and are quickly forgotten.
i think the lyrics of the song "One Step Closer" pretty much sum up where the band is at this point:
"i'm on an island in a busy intersection/ i can't go forward now/ can't turn back/ can't see the future/ it's getting away from me / just watch the taillights glowing/ one step closer to knowing..."
i think we are one step closer to knowing they are only going through the motions.
although my initial impression was relatively harsh, i still stand behind what i've written (which i've included below) - the release is only impressive if you look at it in terms of the fact that U2 has been around for 25 years and is still making music people will flock to record stores to buy. i'm sure fans will love the album and pack stadiums to see the mythical four perform. they definitely deserve induction into the rock'n'roll hall of fame. that said, this recording doesn't do or say anything new. saying it is a rehash may be too harsh - it is more like a familiar revisitation packaged for commercial consumption.
i can't help but feel somewhat let down by this bland effort which to me pales against classics like "War" "Joshua Tree" and "Achtung Baby". it is also utterly straight-laced (and almost simplistic) compared to the self-reflexive, somewhat dangerous semi-arthouse pop of “Zooropa” and “Pop”. i’m sure bono could go into the complexities and nuances of his lyrics on HTDAB, but as a listener and long time fan, there is not enough to maintain my interest lyrically. then again it is easy for me to be critical being that it is not my album yielded from years of time and effort.
would i go to see U2 in concert given the chance? hell yes. their live performances rock, and they have a mountain of fantastic material to perform. case in point, they recently appeared on the american tv show "Satuday Night Live" and performed three songs on air to rapturous crowds (most perform two) - they played more, but they had to cut off the live feed at 1am. they are legendary musicians and are worth seeing if you have a chance.
that said, i still don't think i could part with the money to buy their latest record. some might say that i’m the one playing it safe by only listening to previous efforts. but i do it in order to maintain a sense of nostalgia about the band i grew up with - one with a rebel spirit and a certain amount of pomposity that embraced the personal and the mystical, the earthly and the divine, the serious and the self-ridiculing to create music that resonates with me. the stuff i hear now is more like rock echoes of the spirit that i used to enjoy so much: it is familiar but ultimately empty.
-cyrusout
posted in blogcritics.org 19/11/04:
i have listened to the album a few times now and my opinion hasn't changed much even though i just caught myself humming the chorus to vertigo...i find that the sound is a polished return to the original U2 sound a la "Boy" with hints of "War" and "Joshua Tree". that said, i found nothing quite as stunning or exciting as on the earlier efforts.
bono's vox sounds a bit strained most of the time and his lyrics don't have that same exciting insightful thoughtfulness as some of the classic U2 tracks. it's almost like they have sold out and are trying very hard to be "U2-ish" in order to prove they haven't lost their soul as a band. most of their lyrics amount to fairly clichéd platitudes about love, god and the world. gone are the statements about politics, the stories of people they knew, and the country they grew up in - in short their sincerity.
pretty music aside, the blandness of the songs makes me indifferent about this effort, which i'm sure will still garner the enthusiasm of fans who really want to like the album and thus get a ton of airplay. i mean, this is 'U-bloody-2' we're talking about, and we are only mere mortals.
don't get me wrong, i really like the musical aspect of the album - it's very clear and cohesive, drawing on the roots of the band's spirit. it's just they lyrics and bono's voice which bother me. although i've had trouble adjusting to all the changes the band have gone through in their lengthy evolution, i've had to respect their drive for some artistic expression, always pushing the boundaries of what they had known and what their fans would tolerate. but this "return" to U2 roots misses lyrically to the same extent that it hits musically. i found nothing soulful, profound, or even vaguely interesting - just a bunch of U2-like songs that wash over me like flotsam and are quickly forgotten.
i think the lyrics of the song "One Step Closer" pretty much sum up where the band is at this point:
"i'm on an island in a busy intersection/ i can't go forward now/ can't turn back/ can't see the future/ it's getting away from me / just watch the taillights glowing/ one step closer to knowing..."
i think we are one step closer to knowing they are only going through the motions.