The Invisible International

Movie Review: War

2007-08-31T06:26:00.000-05:00

This film, which managed to bestir my interest just a bit because of the casting of Jet Li and Jason Statham side by side, predictably disappointed, but not in the way I expected. I anticipated a poorly written slapped together plot that would provide an excuse for cool action sequences. Instead, I got a cool premise ruined by truly awful directing choices. No, the script isn't Chinatown, but think Face Off or even Infernal Affairs, except clumsily written (or well written and later dismembered by director re-writes). Whatever happened, this didn't come off right. I lay the blame on director Philip Atwell, who needs to be away from feature film sets like pedophiles need to be away from your local Elementary. War is a music video that happens to have a storyline and real actors thrown in to it, but their performances and the sequence of events set forth in the script is subsumed beneath pointless stylism and soulless montages. It was amazing to watch the climactic scene of the film, which could have at least been dramatic if not brilliant if handled by a competent director. There's a highly emotional, high stakes moment between two characters but we couldn't care if we wanted to, because the editing and shot choice are incredibly awful. Atwell is clueless. You can't polish a turd script, but you can sure has hell throw a lot of shit on somebody's shine. Atwell needs to be windexed.

Did I mention the action sequences sucked, too?

Movie Review: The King of Kong

2007-08-21T22:05:00.000-05:00

I attended a special preview screening of the upcoming documentary The King of Kong. It turned out to be the best documentary I've seen since Herzog's Grizzly Man, which deserved an Academy Award. The film casts an eye on the culture of hardcore players of old classic arcade games, such as Pac Man, Q-Bert, and the eponymous Donkey Kong. The Donkey Kong game, which I think I may have played one on occasion and given up, is extremely difficult. That doesn't faze Steve Wiebe or Billy Mitchell, who play the game obsessively and obtain ridiculously high scores. A bitter feud develops between them over who can achieve the official, verified highest score in Donkey Kong. The two men and those surrounding them are extremely well drawn, with perhaps some unfair bias against Mitchell. Wiebe comes off as a heroic prototypical underdog against a dastardly, cheating foe, and Mitchell plays the villain. This is hardly much of a stretch though, as Mitchell is incredibly arrogant and believes himself to be some sort of rock star on the virtue of being good at old school games. Wiebe's young daughter innocently comments at one point that "some people destroy themselves" to get Guinness World Records, and immediately after this truth comes from the mouth of a babe the film cuts to a shot of Mitchell. That makes things rather clear, in case there was any ambiguity about how the filmmaker feels about Mitchell.

Issues of bias and art vs. truth aside, this is a highly entertaining and fascinating film. This could have easily been a rather pedestrian documentary, but the director walked right in to the middle of a great drama, and he seized the moment in grand style. Check it out, it's undoubtedly the best film of the summer.

Madness on the Roadway

2007-07-08T19:18:00.000-05:00

Chicago, Illinois, 7:03 PM, July 8th, 2007.

I was on the highway. I was exiting I-94 to get on I-290 / Congress Parkway. There was a strange slowdown and traffic that was baffling me, I assumed there was an accident ahead. Going up the ramp, I was confronted by a strange sight: a completely naked, barefoot black man standing in front of a car in front of me, running in circles with his arms in the air, apparently talking to himself. His shoes and pants laid in the left lane, run over by multiple cars. The Lexus up front hastily swerved around him, avoiding him. At this point he seemed to calm down, walking to the side of the road, turning his bare ass to the oncoming traffic. I passed him by without further incident. He had large testicles. He was in his late twenties or thirties, with the beginnings of a beard and a Mona Lisa smile.

I thought to myself: what motivated this man? Crack? PCP? Ether? Was this Fear and Loathing in the Loop? Perhaps it was a sexual fetish, though an erection wasn't evident. I think a good theory is drugs in combination with a preexisting mental disorder.

After passing him by, the plot thickened. I saw a cheap car with two large black women milling around it, and a 10 year old inside, his hands pressed against the windows and his eyes goldfish wide. The woman flagged me down, and seemed surprised when I actually stopped. I suspected a proposition for money (in other words, this was some sort of scam), but I like to hear this sort of thing anyway. It was as I predicted. She claimed that she was out of gas and needed money to obtain some, and that she was stranded and no one would stop (untrue, I had seen at least two cars slow down). This story struck me as immediately false. For one thing, they weren't anywhere near a gas station, so money by itself would hardly help them. If they did need money, it must be assumed they had enough gas to get to the station and spend it. So why were they on an on-ramp? I could think of no other reason than to set a dramatic scene. If the situation were dire, they would either call the authorities or ask to siphon some gas from my tank, that would be the sensible solution. But they didn't. I said no, I didn't have any cash, (basically true, I only had a couple dollars) and continued on my way.

Here's what baffles me: were these two incidents linked? The reason I might think so is that normally, people would be cruising along that ramp at a pretty good clip, and would be unable to stop for a distressed family even if they wanted to. Perhaps it was opportunism on their part, seeing that the naked man had slowed down the flow of traffic? Or maybe it was a coordinated plot? This seems bizarre. We need money, so lets stop on on ramp and try to scam people out of it. But wait! We need a way to slow down traffic! Let's have Bob get naked and run around in front of cars, to force them to move more slowly! I've seen my share of set piece scams in the city involving groups, most notoriously a high stakes shell game on the train were a part of the group would bet and "win" money from the shell player. My friend and I witnessed a yuppie Loyola student fall prey to this con game, and I later found out that that very friend, a rather naive individual from New Hampshire, had earlier fallen prey to these men. A sucker is born every minute, cons such as these are definitely profitable. After forking over some cash for the "gas", perhaps I would have been pressured to give more for something else. If this were such a scam, it takes the prize for Most Bizarre.

I'm going to check chicagocrime.org in future weeks to see if this guy got picked up for indecent exposure, and I will update you if so.

Why I Need a Gun

2007-07-06T04:42:00.000-05:00

I went to the local downtown Rock and Roll McDonalds, and on the way back in my car, I'm driving along happy as can be on your typical downtown Chicago one way street (Clark, if anyone wants to know) . Some guy is going slowly up the street the wrong way, like he has no idea where he is. As I went past him (my window was open) I said to him nicely "You're going the wrong way". Just to let him know. I forgot about him completely and stopped at the light.

I looked in the rear view mirror a few seconds later and this motherfucker is going in reverse at 20 mph towards me, and pulled up along side my car. He's a white asshole in a muscle shirt looking slightly dazed, but also rather pissed. He's working himself up. "You say something to me, motherfucker?" He repeats himself and starts taking off his seatbelt, acting like he's going to get out of his car and kick my ass. I just stare at him like, wtf. My only real concern was that he might have a gun, if he was going to climb out of his car I'd just run the light and that'd be that. At that moment a cop in a squad car shines his maglight on the guy, the cops had been cruising around McDonalds. Lucky break, I guess. I kind of wish the guy had stepped out of the car and done some crazy shit and the cops had spotted it, and inflicted upon him the white version of the Rodney King beating. Oh well. I continued on, as the light has changed. The sad thing is if I had had a gun and pulled it, I'd probably be in a police station right now. Cook County sucks.

Not only that, but this is the second time this has happened in the last month or so. Again, I was on a late night food run to an Indian place, and this project dweller tried to scare me out of my wallet in the parking lot by acting like he was going to attack me. I told him to step away and he left. People are fucking nuts.

This is why everyone should be well armed. I'm telling you, there are animals out there. These guys were all talk, but if they hadn't been, I might have had to actually wrestle around with them and exchange punches and shit. And who knows what weaponry they had in their possession. Secondly they threatened, which is as far as I'm concerned enough justification to put them in the ground after issuing a stern warning to back the fuck off and go about their business. These people should be removed from the gene pool anyway. So listen you fucking liberal democrat hippies: I need some cold steel! I'm surrounded by lunatics!

Movie Review: Transformers

2007-07-03T14:11:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I drove out to Skokie, Illinois to meet up with a commited Transformers geek. A full 2 hours before the movie, we were milling around outside of the sparsely populated multiplex. He was brimming over with excitement, he had awaited this movie for four years. I'd heard of it only a few months ago. When I heard director Michael Bay (the man that gave you the massive turd known as Pearl Harbor) was attached, my response was actually cautiously positive. If there was one movie that Bay could do properly, I thought, it was Transformers. The trademark of the Transformers series is gigantic robots saying preposterous things and battling it out in a fast, hyper kinetic style. For this sort of material, the directing style of a film like Pearl Harbor was actually suitable.

I proved to be correct. This movie is about everything you'd expect, utterly predictable, but in an enjoyable fashion. The robots look awesome, and come on to the stage with the proper dramatic gravitas. The two main characters, a teenage couple played by the convincingly earnest Shia LaBeof (whose movie character also has a preposterous name, Sam Witwicky... one questions whether this was the reason he was cast) and the ungodly hot Megan Fox, are likable enough to root for, though their romance is far too soulless and by the numbers. Bay knows what the audience bays for, and devotes an entire to scene to Fox's body, which is sculpted like a greek goddess and shot by Bay like the opening sequence of a porn flick. You half expect some cheap synthesized music to kick in and LaBeof to copulate with her on the hood of his anthropomorphic car.

The plot concerns the warring robotic factions of the Autobots and Decepticons, and their struggle to obtain this bigass cube called the Allspark, which apparently has incredible blah fucking power blah blah fucking blah. We follow the teenagers as they discover the nature of the transformers, and then run around frantically while finding the time to make eyes at each other. There's also a plotline with the military fighting the Transformers, which was idiotic at best, and seemed to exist solely so that Michael Bay and the propaganda wing of the US military could hang out. It seems totally unnecessary to the film, and had me squirming impatiently in my seat. Does every Bay film have to have situation rooms filmed with techs spouting jargon and positioning fleets? I was half expecting the Empire of Japan to reconstitute itself and throw in with the Decepticons. In my opinion, the military stuff should have been mostly thrown out and replaced with development of the transformer characters. Why is Megatron an asshole? What's the deal with Starscream? Other than Bumblebee and Prime, we get no sense of who the Transformers are and what their conflict is about, other than some dull explication spouted out by Prime. You can tell that Bay and the screenwriters just thought "well, they're robots", but that's missing the entire point of the show, which is primarily about the awesomeness of being a gigantic fucking robot, and what kind of people they are.

Though yawn inducing, the military shit does pay off in the closing battle sequence, where humans, Autobots, and Decepticons engage in a massive battle in the downtown of some anonymous city. The fights are really cool, but shot Michael Bay style, which has its drawbacks. At some points it can be hard to tell who's fighting who and what exactly they're doing, and just becomes massive metal bodies slamming against eachother with the panache of a gay porn video. Not that that doesn't have its points, right?

To sum it up: it's fun, but don't expect too much. It's about exactly what you would expect watching the trailer, nothing more and nothing less. It's about the best that Michael Bay can do: make a mediocre film and let the CGI guys push it in to "good" territory.

Mark Buehrle owns your face 4 sirius

2007-04-19T17:15:00.000-05:00

Movie Review: Grindhouse

2007-04-06T02:14:00.000-05:00

Go see it. Immediately. Do not walk to the movie theater, run. Run while the crowds are still there, because that makes the film so much more fun, as the two directors have put these features together to bait the crowd and elicit a reaction. This is a must see movie. I don't think I've ever had more fun at a movie theater that I had attending this one. Rodriguez's PLANET TERROR is a hilariously corny zombie film full of hot girls, absurd dialogue, and gratuitous violence. On a certain level it actually seems to be more Tarantino than the later Tarantino film, its all about being deliberately bad. Think of it as a sort of "Scary Movie" for the exploitation films of the 70s, except way, way better. Despite the deliberate badness, you're still pulled in and engaged. It could have easily gone over the edge in to poor taste, but Rodriguez maintains the balancing act and delivers a great film.

All compliments to PLANET TERROR, but DEATH PROOF is the better film of the two, and may even be Tarantino's best film (I said it). One word that sums up Death Proof: pure joy. It's like the adult cinematic equivalent of banging together the toy cars I loved as a kid. If you love car chases as I do, you will love every frame of the climactic scene. Kurt Russell is brilliant as "Stuntman Mike", every moment he has on screen is riveting. He's cashing in on the imagine he's built in every other film he has ever done coming in to this one, and topping them all in what is undoubtedly his best performance. The way the film ends is nothing short of brilliant, I pumped my fist in the air like I was at the ballpark, and yelled a lot.

The trailers in between the films are great, I hear "Machete" is already being seriously considered for production. That would be a great choice, because it was the best trailer of the bunch and would be a great film.

I could go on and on about these movies, but my reviews are always spoiler free, so that's all I'm gonna say.

Movie Review: Dead or Alive

2007-02-13T19:03:00.000-06:00

Takashi Miike's "Dead or Alive" is one of the most ridiculous films I've ever seen in a while. Not as shocking as his later films, he makes up for it with his bizarre take on the gangster genre. The film opens with what I would call Miike's version of the montage of gang killings from the Godfather. Except instead of a slow measured pace, it's a hyperactive series of jump cuts of strippers, clowns, murder, noodles, and a ridiculously long line of cocaine. The plot revolves around a cop, and of course, a gangster.

The film parodies the gangster films of the last few years. If you've seen a lot of Japanese yakuza films (I haven't) I'm sure you'll get a lot more of the jokes, the references I did get were mostly to John Woo's Hong Kong work and American gangster film cliches. Despite the parody throughout, this isn't "Scary Movie" for Asian gangster cinema. Miike throws in just enough disturbing violence and intellectualism that you're not sure whether or not to take him seriously. Everything culminates in the film's "explosive" finish, which is more explosive than you could ever expect. I can assure you that this is the most explosive finish you'll ever see in a film. Ever.

Best Action Scene EVER!

2007-02-09T01:35:00.000-06:00

Maybe the best SCENE ever. Period. This is so insanely awesome I just can't believe it. I just watched this, and I'm in a state of complete shock and awe.

Saddam Execution Footage

2006-12-30T05:51:00.000-06:00

Seems to be holding up pretty well in the video there. Unsurprising, Hussein has always been a tough son of a bitch, and if there's a such thing as the devil he's fighting him tooth and nail all the way to the lava spa. You had a good run, Saddam, but you had to know it was a matter of time before you were taken down. Once you enter American pop culture as a Bad Guy, your fate is sealed. Yes Saddam, the day you were truly condemned was the day Sergeant Slaughter started writing you letters.

Gerald Ford Dead

2006-12-27T15:13:00.001-06:00

A Lovecraftian Christmas

2006-12-25T01:02:00.000-06:00

It's Christmas! To break up the tired, cheerful Holiday Cheer, here's a Lovecraft story for your consumption, kindly posted online by some guy at Berkeley. Who says they're good for nothin'?

The Festival

by H. P. Lovecraft

Written Oct 1923

Published January 1925 in Weird Tales, Vol 5, No. 1, p. 169-74.

Efficiut Daemones, ut quae non sunt, sic tamen quasi sint, conspicienda hominibus exhibeant.
- Lacantius
(Devils so work that things which are not appear to men as if they were real.)

I was far from home, and the spell of the eastern sea was upon me. In the twilight I heard it pounding on the rocks, and I knew it lay just over the hill where the twisting willows writhed against the clearing sky and the first stars of evening. And because my fathers had called me to the old town beyond, I pushed on through the shallow, new-fallen snow along the road that soared lonely up to where Aldebaran twinkled among the trees; on toward the very ancient town I had never seen but often dreamed of.

It was the Yuletide, that men call Christmas though they know in their hearts it is older than Bethlehem and Babylon, older than Memphis and mankind. It was the Yuletide, and I had come at last to the ancient sea town where my people had dwelt and kept festival in the elder time when festival was forbidden; where also they had commanded their sons to keep festival once every century, that the memory of primal secrets might not be forgotten. Mine were an old people, and were old even when this land was settled three hundred years before. And they were strange, because they had come as dark furtive folk from opiate southern gardens of orchids, and spoken another tongue before they learnt the tongue of the blue-eyed fishers. And now they were scattered, and shared only the rituals of mysteries that none living could understand. I was the only one who came back that night to the old fishing town as legend bade, for only the poor and the lonely remember.

Then beyond the hill's crest I saw Kingsport outspread frostily in the gloaming; snowy Kingsport with its ancient vanes and steeples, ridgepoles and chimney-pots, wharves and small bridges, willow-trees and graveyards; endless labyrinths of steep, narrow, crooked streets, and dizzy church-crowned central peak that time durst not touch; ceaseless mazes of colonial houses piled and scattered at all angles and levels like a child's disordered blocks; antiquity hovering on grey wings over winter-whitened gables and gambrel roofs; fanlights and small-paned windows one by one gleaming out in the cold dusk to join Orion and the archaic stars. And against the rotting wharves the sea pounded; the secretive, immemorial sea out of which the people had come in the elder time.

Beside the road at its crest a still higher summit rose, bleak and windswept, and I saw that it was a burying-ground where black gravestones stuck ghoulishly through the snow like the decayed fingernails of a gigantic corpse. The printless road was very lonely, and sometimes I thought I heard a distant horrible creaking as of a gibbet in the wind. They had hanged four kinsmen of mine for witchcraft in 1692, but I did not know just where.

As the road wound down the seaward slope I listened for the merry sounds of a village at evening, but did not hear them. Then I thought of the season, and felt that these old Puritan folk might well have Christmas customs strange to me, and full of silent hearthside prayer. So after that I did not listen for merriment or look for wayfarers, kept on down past the hushed lighted farmhouses and shadowy stone walls to where the signs of ancient shops and sea taverns creaked in the salt breeze, and the grotesque knockers of pillared doorways glistened along deserted unpaved lanes in the light of little, curtained windows.

I had seen maps of the town, and knew where to find the home of my people. It was told that I should be known and welcomed, for village legend lives long; so I hastened through Back Street to Circle Court, and across the fresh snow on the one full flagstone pavement in the town, to where Green Lane leads off behind the Market House. The old maps still held good, and I had no trouble; though at Arkham they must have lied when they said the trolleys ran to this place, since I saw not a wire overhead. Snow would have hid the rails in any case. I was glad I had chosen to walk, for the white village had seemed very beautiful from the hill; and now I was eager to knock at the door of my people, the seventh house on the left in Green Lane, with an ancient peaked roof and jutting second storey, all built before 1650.

There were lights inside the house when I came upon it, and I saw from the diamond window-panes that it must have been kept very close to its antique state. The upper part overhung the narrow grass-grown street and nearly met the over-hanging part of the house opposite, so that I was almost in a tunnel, with the low stone doorstep wholly free from snow. There was no sidewalk, but many houses had high doors reached by double flights of steps with iron railings. It was an odd scene, and because I was strange to New England I had never known its like before. Though it pleased me, I would have relished it better if there had been footprints in the snow, and people in the streets, and a few windows without drawn curtains.

When I sounded the archaic iron knocker I was half afraid. Some fear had been gathering in me, perhaps because of the strangeness of my heritage, and the bleakness of the evening, and the queerness of the silence in that aged town of curious customs. And when my knock was answered I was fully afraid, because I had not heard any footsteps before the door creaked open. But I was not afraid long, for the gowned, slippered old man in the doorway had a bland face that reassured me; and though he made signs that he was dumb, he wrote a quaint and ancient welcome with the stylus and wax tablet he carried.

He beckoned me into a low, candle-lit room with massive exposed rafters and dark, stiff, sparse furniture of the seventeenth century. The past was vivid there, for not an attribute was missing. There was a cavernous fireplace and a spinning-wheel at which a bent old woman in loose wrapper and deep poke-bonnet sat back toward me, silently spinning despite the festive season. An indefinite dampness seemed upon the place, and I marvelled that no fire should be blazing. The high-backed settle faced the row of curtained windows at the left, and seemed to be occupied, though I was not sure. I did not like everything about what I saw, and felt again the fear I had had. This fear grew stronger from what had before lessened it, for the more I looked at the old man's bland face the more its very blandness terrified me. The eyes never moved, and the skin was too much like wax. Finally I was sure it was not a face at all, but a fiendishly cunning mask. But the flabby hands, curiously gloved, wrote genially on the tablet and told me I must wait a while before I could be led to the place of the festival.

Pointing to a chair, table, and pile of books, the old man now left the room; and when I sat down to read I saw that the books were hoary and mouldy, and that they included old Morryster's wild Marvels of Science, the terrible Saducismus Triumphatus of Joseph Glanvil, published in 1681, the shocking Daemonolatreja of Remigius, printed in 1595 at Lyons, and worst of all, the unmentionable Necronomicon of the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred, in Olaus Wormius' forbidden Latin translation; a book which I had never seen, but of which I had heard monstrous things whispered. No one spoke to me, but I could hear the creaking of signs in the wind outside, and the whir of the wheel as the bonneted old woman continued her silent spinning, spinning. I thought the room and the books and the people very morbid and disquieting, but because an old tradition of my fathers had summoned me to strange feastings, I resolved to expect queer things. So I tried to read, and soon became tremblingly absorbed by something I found in that accursed Necronomicon; a thought and a legend too hideous for sanity or consciousness, but I disliked it when I fancied I heard the closing of one of the windows that the settle faced, as if it had been stealthily opened. It had seemed to follow a whirring that was not of the old woman's spinning-wheel. This was not much, though, for the old woman was spinning very hard, and the aged clock had been striking. After that I lost the feeling that there were persons on the settle, and was reading intently and shudderingly when the old man came back booted and dressed in a loose antique costume, and sat down on that very bench, so that I could not see him. It was certainly nervous waiting, and the blasphemous book in my hands made it doubly so. When eleven struck, however, the old man stood up, glided to a massive carved chest in a corner, and got two hooded cloaks; one of which he donned, and the other of which he draped round the old woman, who was ceasing her monotonous spinning. Then they both started for the outer door; the woman lamely creeping, and the old man, after picking lip the very book I had been reading, beckoning me as he drew his hood over that unmoving face or mask.

We went out into the moonless and tortuous network of that incredibly ancient town; went out as the lights in the curtained windows disappeared one by one, and the Dog Star leered at the throng of cowled, cloaked figures that poured silently from every doorway and formed monstrous processions up this street and that, past the creaking sigus and antediluvian gables, the thatched roofs and diamond-paned windows; threading precipitous lanes where decaying houses overlapped and crumbled together; gliding across open courts and churchyards where the bobbing lanthorns made eldritch drunken constellations.

Amid these hushed throngs I followed my voiceless guides; jostled by elbows that seemed preternaturally soft, and pressed by chests and stomachs that seemed abnormally pulpy; but seeing never a face and hearing never a word. Up, up, up, the eery columns slithered, and I saw that all the travellers were converging as they flowed near a sort of focus of crazy alleys at the top of a high hill in the centre of the town, where perched a great white church. I had seen it from the road's crest when I looked at Kingsport in the new dusk, and it had made me shiver because Aldebaran had seemed to balance itself a moment on the ghostly spire.

There was an open space around the church; partly a churchyard with spectral shafts, and partly a half-paved square swept nearly bare of snow by the wind, and lined with unwholesomely archaic houses having peaked roofs and overhanging gables. Death-fires danced over the tombs, revealing gruesome vistas, though queerly failing to cast any shadows. Past the churchyard, where there were no houses, I could see over the hill's summit and watch the glimmer of stars on the harbour, though the town was invisible in the dark. Only once in a while a lanthorn bobbed horribly through serpentine alleys on its way to overtake the throng that was now slipping speechlessly into the church. I waited till the crowd had oozed into the black doorway, and till all the stragglers had followed. The old man was pulling at my sleeve, but I was determined to be the last. Crossing the threshold into the swarming temple of unknown darkness, I turned once to look at the outside world as the churchyard phosphorescence cast a sickly glow on the hilltop pavement. And as I did so I shuddered. For though the wind had not left much snow, a few patches did remain on the path near the door; and in that fleeting backward look it seemed to my troubled eyes that they bore no mark of passing feet, not even mine.

The church was scarce lighted by all the lanthorns that had entered it, for most of the throng had already vanished. They had streamed up the aisle between the high pews to the trap-door of the vaults which yawned loathsomely open just before the pulpit, and were now squinning noiselessly in. I followed dumbly down the foot-worn steps and into the dark, suffocating crypt. The tail of that sinuous line of night-marchers seemed very horrible, and as I saw them wriggling into a venerable tomb they seemed more horrible still. Then I noticed that the tomb's floor had an aperture down which the throng was sliding, and in a moment we were all descending an ominous staircase of rough-hewn stone; a narrow spiral staircase damp and peculiarly odorous, that wound endlessly down into the bowels of the hill past monotonous walls of dripping stone blocks and crumbling mortar. It was a silent, shocking descent, and I observed after a horrible interval that the walls and steps were changing in nature, as if chiselled out of the solid rock. What mainly troubled me was that the myriad footfalls made no sound and set up no echoes. After more aeons of descent I saw some side passages or burrows leading from unknown recesses of blackness to this shaft of nighted mystery. Soon they became excessively numerous, like impious catacombs of nameless menace; and their pungent odour of decay grew quite unbearable. I knew we must have passed down through the mountain and beneath the earth of Kingsport itself, and I shivered that a town should be so aged and maggoty with subterraneous evil.

Then I saw the lurid shimmering of pale light, and heard the insidious lapping of sunless waters. Again I shivered, for I did not like the things that the night had brought, and wished bitterly that no forefather had summoned me to this primal rite. As the steps and the passage grew broader, I heard another sound, the thin, whining mockery of a feeble flute; and suddenly there spread out before me the boundless vista of an inner world - a vast fungous shore litten by a belching column of sick greenish flame and washed by a wide oily river that flowed from abysses frightful and unsuspected to join the blackest gulfs of immemorial ocean.

Fainting and gasping, I looked at that unhallowed Erebus of titan toadstools, leprous fire and slimy water, and saw the cloaked throngs forming a semicircle around the blazing pillar. It was the Yule-rite, older than man and fated to survive him; the primal rite of the solstice and of spring's promise beyond the snows; the rite of fire and evergreen, light and music. And in the stygian grotto I saw them do the rite, and adore the sick pillar of flame, and throw into the water handfuls gouged out of the viscous vegetation which glittered green in the chlorotic glare. I saw this, and I saw something amorphously squatted far away from the light, piping noisomely on a flute; and as the thing piped I thought I heard noxious muffled flutterings in the foetid darkness where I could not see. But what frightened me most was that flaming column; spouting volcanically from depths profound and inconceivable, casfing no shadows as healthy flame should, and coating the nitrous stone with a nasty, venomous verdigris. For in all that seething combustion no warmth lay, but only the clamminess of death and corruption.

The man who had brought me now squirmed to a point directly beside the hideous flame, and made stiff ceremonial motions to the semi-circle he faced. At certain stages of the ritual they did grovelling obeisance, especially when he held above his head that abhorrent Necronomicon he had taken with him; and I shared all the obeisances because I had been summoned to this festival by the writings of my forefathers. Then the old man made a sigual to the half-seen flute-player in the darkness, which player thereupon changed its feeble drone to a scarce louder drone in another key; precipitating as it did so a horror unthinkable and unexpected. At this horror I sank nearly to the lichened earth, transfixed with a dread not of this or any world, but only of the mad spaces between the stars.

Out of the unimaginable blackness beyond the gangrenous glare of that cold flame, out of the tartarean leagues through which that oily river rolled uncanny, unheard, and unsuspected, there flopped rhythmically a horde of tame, trained, hybrid winged things that no sound eye could ever wholly grasp, or sound brain ever wholly remember. They were not altogether crows, nor moles, nor buzzards, nor ants, nor vampire bats, nor decomposed human beings; but something I cannot and must not recall. They flopped limply along, half with their webbed feet and half with their membranous wings; and as they reached the throng of celebrants the cowled figures seized and mounted them, and rode off one by one along the reaches of that unlighted river, into pits and galleries of panic where poison springs feed frightful and undiscoverable cataracts.

The old spinning woman had gone with the throng, and the old man remained only because I had refused when he motioned me to seize an animal and ride like the rest. I saw when I staggered to my feet that the amorphous flute-player had rolled out of sight, but that two of the beasts were patiently standing by. As I hung back, the old man produced his stylus and tablet and wrote that he was the true deputy of my fathers who had founded the Yule worship in this ancient place; that it had been decreed I should come back, and that the most secret mysteries were yet to be performed. He wrote this in a very ancient hand, and when I still hesitated he pulled from his loose robe a seal ring and a watch, both with my family arms, to prove that he was what he said. But it was a hideous proof, because I knew from old papers that that watch had been buried with my great-great-great-great-grandfather in 1698.

Presently the old man drew back his hood and pointed to the family resemblance in his face, but I only shuddered, because I was sure that the face was merely a devilish waxen mask. The flopping animals were now scratching restlessly at the lichens, and I saw that the old man was nearly as restless himself. When one of the things began to waddle and edge away, he turned quickly to stop it; so that the suddenness of his motion dislodged the waxen mask from what should have been his head. And then, because that nightmare's position barred me from the stone staircase down which we had come, I flung myself into the oily underground river that bubbled somewhere to the caves of the sea; flung myself into that putrescent juice of earth's inner horrors before the madness of my screams could bring down upon me all the charnel legions these pest-gulfs might conceal.

At the hospital they told me I had been found half-frozen in Kingsport Harbour at dawn, clinging to the drifting spar that accident sent to save me. They told me I had taken the wrong fork of the hill road the night before, and fallen over the cliffs at Orange Point; a thing they deduced from prints found in the snow. There was nothing I could say, because everything was wrong. Everything was wrong, with the broad windows showing a sea of roofs in which only about one in five was ancient, and the sound of trolleys and motors in the streets below. They insisted that this was Kingsport, and I could not deny it. When I went delirious at hearing that the hospital stood near the old churchyard on Central Hill, they sent me to St Mary's Hospital in Arkham, where I could have better care. I liked it there, for the doctors were broad-minded, and even lent me their influence in obtaining the carefully sheltered copy of Alhazred's objectionable Necronomicon from the library of Miskatonic University. They said something about a "psychosis" and agreed I had better get any harassing obsessions off my mind.

So I read that hideous chapter, and shuddered doubly because it was indeed not new to me. I had seen it before, let footprints tell what they might; and where it was I had seen it were best forgotten. There was no one - in waking hours - who could remind me of it; but my dreams are filled with terror, because of phrases I dare not quote. I dare quote only one paragraph, put into such English as I can make from the awkward Low Latin.

"The nethermost caverns," wrote the mad Arab, "are not for the fathoming of eyes that see; for their marvels are strange and terrific. Cursed the ground where dead thoughts live new and oddly bodied, and evil the mind that is held by no head. Wisely did Ibn Schacabao say, that happy is the tomb where no wizard hath lain, and happy the town at night whose wizards are all ashes. For it is of old rumour that the soul of the devil-bought hastes not from his charnel clay, but fats and instructs the very worm that gnaws; till out of corruption horrid life springs, and the dull scavengers of earth wax crafty to vex it and swell monstrous to plague it. Great holes secretly are digged where earth's pores ought to suffice, and things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl."

Memes

2006-12-21T23:18:00.000-06:00

Augusto José Ramón Pinochet Ugarte Is Dead

2006-12-10T15:32:00.000-06:00

Today we mourn the death of a great man. He fought communism, toppling a communist government and dealing with its remaining supporters. After that, he tried his best to institute sensible economic policy, with excellent results. He knew how to deal with Reds... show them no mercy. We could all learn from his heroic example.

Want to be a cabinet member?

2006-12-09T18:21:00.000-06:00

They've got a job for you in Fiji:

SUVA, Fiji — Want ads to fill vacant cabinet jobs in the post-coup Fiji government ran in newspapers Saturday in the South Pacific country’s renegade military chief and self-appointed president’s latest step toward replacing the democratically elected administration he ousted.
“Applicants must be of outstanding character and without any criminal records,” the ad notes.
“Each must not have been declared bankrupt,” it warns, adding applications must be submitted to military headquarters by Tuesday.

Is there two day international mailing? Better get on that resume. According to Wikipedia, English is an official language there, so if you can read this you're good to go.

Who wouldn't want to work for this man?

Comments

2006-12-09T15:07:00.000-06:00

I just switched this blog over to the new Blogger Beta, which apparently has some nice, newfangled features. Anyway, I just noticed that I apparently have like 4,000 comments that I've never moderated (I had no idea that was even the setting on the blog). Looking through a few of them, they're mostly spam, with text like: Family Sex, Granny Gallery, Hot Very Young Girls, and Dolly Parton Nude. I shit you not, Dolly Parton Nude.

So I recklessly wiped them all, and compounded my error by noticing that I wiped some actual comments from people. Sorry. I did salvage one recent comment by Shonk on Carl's rant on literature. So enjoy.

I changed the settings so that anyone can comment as long as they fill out one of those word verification things. Hopefuly, that'll let anyone comment while eliminating the spam. Sorry for being so clueless before with the comments, someone should have told me none of their comments were appearing! Anyway, feel free to comment away now.

Canada.com's overwrought assesment of the Phillipines

2006-12-02T23:24:00.000-06:00

Check out this ridiculous headline:

Geographically doomed, hobbled by poverty, Philippines buffeted by typhoons

Oliver Teves, Canadian Press
Published: Saturday, December 02, 2006

PADANG, Philippines (AP) - Doomed by geography and hobbled by poverty, the Philippines has long struggled to minimize damage from the onslaught of typhoons it faces each year.

But the high death tolls and destruction persist, with the latest storm killing more than 300 people and leaving 300 missing in the northern Philippines.

Sheesh, Oliver, chill out!

Pentagon Investigating Video

2006-11-29T20:54:00.000-06:00

Report: Pentagon investigates YouTube video of U.S. Troops

Along with the water bottle video posted below, the Pentagon is investigating another video featuring US troops being pelted by children with rocks, and complaining that they can't shoot the little fuckers. I have a feeling they're more pissed off that the troops recorded it and it got out on the internet than anything else.

Here's the rock pelting video, embedded, in case you're obstructed by Youtube's annoying "offensive content" policy:

Impoverished Iraqi Children Race For Bottled Water

2006-11-29T03:11:00.000-06:00

If you don't believe the world is a fucked up place, check this out:

Having obviously missed the Penn and Teller Bullshit episode on bottled water, these poor little urchins race for the magical bottle dangled before them by some asshole American soldiers. The most tragic part of this film is how it ends: the fleet footed kid who ran all that way chasing the truck ends up not even getting the bottle! But he learned a valuable life lesson, and I'm sure that kind of athleticism will serve him well when his neighborhood gets ripped apart by an opposing ethnic group.

Wii!

2006-11-20T14:12:00.000-06:00

The Nintendo Wii was released yesterday, and I got to take its pack-in game, Wii Sports, for a spin. So, I'm going to give my initial impressions of the Wii itself and also of the two sports I played, boxing and tennis.

The Wii itself is, by far, smaller than the Xbox 360 and PS3. It was only as thick as three DVD cases, and only a little bigger than one DVD case in terms of length and width. Games go in the front, and the top opens up to reveal four Gamecube controller ports, and two Gamecube memory card slots. These top panels can be easily removed, in case you're planning on frequently playing Gamecube games on the Wii. Naturally, the thing you're going to be looking at most is the new controller. The Wii Remote looked a little smaller than I had expected it to be based on seeing videos of people using it, but it fits into the hand neatly and comfortably. It comes with an adjustable wrist strap, and I suggest it be used; you won't even notice that it's there. Nintendo has also thoughtfully included two AA batteries for the Wii Remote. The Wii was easy to get set up and running, and after setting it up for the appropriate TV size (4:3 or 16:9), and programming date and time, you're dropped into the channel menu which acts as the operating system for the Wii. A final note about the Wii Remote: if your hands have a slight tendency to shake, as mine do, then you'll probably notice that your cursor is responding to your hand shaking, and so you might have some trouble guiding it at first, but I can assure you that this is only an "at-first" phenomenon, and after you start immersing yourself in the experience of using the Wii Remote, it will go away.

Before playing Wii Sports, I headed to the Mii Channel to make my own custom Mii. For those too lazy to click the link provided, your Mii is your personal avatar and is used as your character in some of the games, including Wii Sports. The Miis can be customized with thousands of different possibilities for how they look, and it's not hard to create one that looks surprisingly like you (this is not always a good thing). I gave the Mii my basic features, glasses, and a moustache, and he was ready to go. To the boxing ring!

I was taking turns with a friend of mine in playing Wii Sports, and so I got to see him play before getting my crack at it. He is right-handed, and so he was using the default boxing setup of Wii Remote in the right hand, and Nunchuk attachment in the left. When it was my turn, I loaded my Mii, and switched the setup to respond to me using the Wii Remote in my left hand and the Nunchuk in my right. I was rather curious to see how well the Wii would respond to a left-handed setup, since support for the natural preferences of left-handed people are often total afterthoughts in video games, if they're included at all. The Nintendo Wii, however, passed that test with flying colors. I didn't notice a single instance of the system not properly responding to my movements because I was using it left-handed.

The boxing is fairly simple. You box against progressively more difficult opponents and accumulate points based not on winning or losing the bout, but rather on showing improvement. I thought this was a nice touch, as it lends the game a certain realism. The Mii you created is your boxer, and you control him with the Wii Remote and Nunchuk attachment. Moving one or the other of those forward throws a punch, pulling them in blocks, and pulling them in and shifting to the left or right dodges in that direction. Pretty basic controls. Each boxer has a pie shaped life meter, and when it runs out, he is knocked down. Each fight is three rounds, and each round is three minutes long. This is all pretty basic stuff, and isn't enough to impress anyone. But here's where this game stands out from the crowd. If you really get into the game while you're playing, by not just moving the controller forward enough to register, but really punching, you'll enjoy the game more and will feel a much greater sense of accomplishment. I honestly cannot remember the last time that I've actually started sweating while playing a video game. After several bouts, I had to turn the controllers back over to my friend, because my arms were getting tired. Throwing punch after punch and actually getting tired as a result does far more to make the game immersive and realistic than all the good graphics the Xbox 360 of PS3 can pump out.

I do have one criticism of the boxing game, and that is that sometimes the motion sensing in the Nunchuk attachment isn't as tight as that in the Wii Remote, so sometimes quick movements with your off hand won't register as well as they could. I'm giving Wii Boxing a final grade of B. It's immensely fun overall, and it's even fun to watch someone else play (especially when the player you're watching is a low-blow artist; I wouldn't have thought it possible, but you can punch people in the crotch in this game).

On to Wii Tennis! I played Wii Tennis with the Wii Remote in my left-hand as well, and dispensed with the Nunchuk attachment. The tennis matches are doubles matches, and if you're the only person playing, the default setup has you controlling both partners. I only played a few tennis matches and didn't realize I could change the default, so I ended up playing that way. However, I do not recommend it, since it will have both partners swing when you swing the Wii Remote, and so if you miss with your forward partner, it becomes very difficult for your back partner to recover in time to swing again. With that in mind though, Wii Tennis is still an enjoyable game, and, as with the boxing, you'll get a lot more fun out of it if you really get into it and swing the Wii Remote as though it were a tennis racket, but just make sure you're wearing the wrist strap and no one is in your swing radius!

My final grade for Wii Tennis is a B-; it didn't hold my rapt attention the way boxing did, but then, I've always been really into boxing games, so that might just be personal bias. However, it was still a very fun game.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed playing the Wii (and I was only playing the free pack-in game!); Nintendo has satisfied me that they knew what they were doing to discard the traditional controller scheme. After we both logged some time on Wii Sports, my friend and I put Super Smash Bros. Melee into the Wii to see how it did with a Gamecube game. The Gamecube controller (which I had previously regarded as one of the best in gaming history) suddenly felt clunky and dull compared to the Wii Remote. I have been converted to the Wii Remote, and I plan to purchase a Wii as soon as my finances will allow. I can't yet say that it's the best console I've ever played, because that depends so much on what kind of game library it builds up, but it comes with more potential than any system I've seen in ages.

Music Review: Laibach - Volk

2006-11-19T21:18:00.000-06:00

I have long maintained that Laibach at their worst would still be better than almost any other band at their best. And I'm going to eat those words right now, because it's just not true. Laibach just released their latest album, Volk, and it is, by far, their worst effort. Volk is meant to be a concept album, a collection of ironic reworkings of nationally identifying songs for thirteen different nations and the "nation" of NSK. Given Laibach's historic proclivity for brilliant reworkings of pop songs, one might expect to hear each nation's song deconstructed and rebuilt so that the nationalistic elements inherent in each song come to the fore. Had Laibach taken that particular route, the album would've at least been intellectually interesting, if not musically. As it actually is, Volk is just the one word I never thought I would have to use to describe a Laibach album; it's boring. Listening to the entire album is an unmemorable experience; the music is gentle and the lyrics uninteresting. Whoever had the idea of relegating Milan Fras' voice to the background and letting the fellows from Silence handle almost everything made a huge mistake. The voice of Milan Fras is the voice of Laibach, and when I hear average grade synthpop and hardly any traces of Milan Fras, I can easily forget that I'm listening to a Laibach album. This isn't just a bad Laibach album, it's a bad album, period.

I don't know who to blame for this. I don't know if Laibach is just losing their magic touch, or if it was merely the heavy inclusion of Silence, but whatever it was, all I can think of is how the mighty have fallen. Perhaps the easiest way to hear the difference between Volk and Laibach doing what they do best is to listen to "The Great Seal" from their classic album, Opus Dei, and compare it to the reworked version that is on Volk, "NSK". The newer version sounds weaker and -- for whatever silly reason -- it has vocals done in the style of Stephen Hawking. In contrast, "The Great Seal" cannot be heard without feeling something. That's really all Volk is, all the life, emotion, and power sucked out of Laibach and replaced with... inoffensive irony that wouldn't sound out of place on a confusedly politically-minded synthpop or emo album that was doomed to end up in the bargain bin.

Movie Review: Harsh Times

2006-11-18T19:45:00.000-06:00

"Harsh Times" was a movie I was half excited for, and half skeptical about. I love Christian Bale and Freddy Rodriguez, but I was skeptical about Director David Ayer. However, he does a great job with this movie. The actors play their parts and absolutely nail it.

Christian Bale, as you should know already, is a fantastic actor, and he's nothing short of fantastic in this movie. A former Army Ranger who's seen a lot of action, he has been discharged and is back home in LA, looking around with his old friend from the neighborhood for work. They drive through the city, largely wasting time drinking, smoking weed, and performing the occasional petty crime. LA is a place where random violence can break out at any moment, which I suppose is pretty damn accurate, especially when you're with a crazy motherfucker like Christian Bale in this movie. As the movie goes on, his character goes more and more downhill. Haunted by his past and finding it incredibly easy to kill, he begins to lose himself more and more. The tension of this film is that while the characters are simply wandering and not doing much of great significance, at any moment shocking violence can explode onto the screen. I don't want to say much more and ruin it for you, but I highly recommended this film that was horribly marketed as some kind of buddy action flick.

Movie Review: Casino Royale

2006-11-18T19:24:00.000-06:00

The new Bond film, which makes absolutely no sense from any sort of continuity standpoint, features newcomer Daniel Craig reprising the character of Bond, James Bond of Her Majesty's Secret Service. The movie starts out well, with a gritty black and white short film of sorts of Bond (who in this film is a newly recruited Double-0) making his first two killings. That segues in to a lackluster credit sequence, and then a cool opening action scene in Madagascar.

Some of the people involved in making this obviously wanted to take the franchise in a new direction. This movie is a bit grittier than those in the past. Bond is written as a "blunt instrument", a man who is good at killing and does it with little regret, and no cute one liners afterwards. He's more young and menacing than the middle aged playboy Bonds of the past. However, their creativity seems to have been stymied by the sheer force of Hollywood inertia pulling the franchise back to safely mediocre swill. What we get are a few cool scenes and presentations of the character diluted in the usual formula.

The James Bond franchise has absolutely gone to shit with the most lazy, crappy, formulaic writing ever. The formula might have been entertaining for, say, the first ten films, then it became repetitive. Now it's not only repetitive but poorly executed. In this film, Bond falls in love with a woman in this movie, and the moment he utters the three fateful words "I love you" we know this chick is going to A) Betray him or B) Get killed. As it turns out, she does both! Don't worry, I'm not spoiling anything, anyone who hasn't been lobotomized will see this coming miles away. Already knowing this, the solid 30 minutes of Bond "retiring" and sailing around Venice with her in a numbing cloud of idyllic romance is the most boring, banal sequence ever filmed. I've seen infomercials more compelling.

Look, I understand this franchise is supposed to be fun. But that's exactly my problem with this movie, it wasn't fun at all. The film's villain, a leering Frenchman who cries bloody tears, could have been a lot of fun but came out stale. Craig puts on a good show as Bond, but he's not an incredible enough actor to salvage the film all by himself. Hopefully in the next film, they'll be more daring and actually do something fun and interesting, but I doubt it.

Spell with flickr

2006-11-15T17:53:00.000-06:00

Check it.

What The Wii Needs To Succeed

2006-11-15T16:10:00.000-06:00

I have been a Nintendo fan ever since we got our NES way back in the 80s. So, I, like every other person raised on Nintendo, am very excited about the Wii (due to come out in less than a week, on November 19th). I think that the Wii is the first system that Nintendo has produced that could potentially return it to a dominant position in the video game industry. I don't think it's probable that it will, but I see it as being within the realm of possibility. Three things have to happen for the Wii to even have an outside chance of outselling the PS3 and the Xbox 360.

1. Wii Remote

When they decided to shift away from the traditional controller style in favor of the Wii Remote scheme, Nintendo was really rolling the dice. The initial reports on the controller suggest that it is an easy-to-use, intuitive, and downright fun device. This absolutely has to continue for the Wii to make a big splash. The Wii Remote is one of the primary factors that distinguishes the Wii from the PS3 and the Xbox360, and it's such a radically different device that people are going to be scrutinizing games' controls more heavily than they otherwise would. Nintendo has to make damn sure that every game that comes out has a spectacular control scheme that is well-suited to the Wii Remote, especially early on. One or two games with bad controls won't devastate the system, but if "poor controls" becomes a consistent complaint from reviewers and consumers, then the Wii will get buried fast. Changing away from a traditional controller is a big gamble, but I think it could end up paying hefty dividends for Nintendo.

2. $249.99 < $399.99 < $599.99

The second key for Nintendo is, not surprisingly, the second factor that distinguishes the Wii from its competitors: price tag. The Wii is $150 less expensive than the Xbox360, and a whopping $350 less than the PS3. That's a big deal for consumers, especially the casual gamer market that Sony thoroughly dominated with the PS2. I could foresee a significant chunk of that casual gamer market abandoning Sony's high prices and fleeing to either Nintendo or Microsoft. However, in order for this price advantage to keep working in Nintendo's favor, something has to not happen. Sony and Microsoft have to avoid having a price war between their systems. If Sony lowers their price to compete more effectively, and Microsoft retaliates in kind, and so on, then suddenly the Wii's hefty price advantage has dwindled away.

3. Developers, developers, developers, developers

Ever since the tragic mistake to use cartridges instead of CDs with the N64, many third party developers have totally abandoned Nintendo systems. Consequently, many third party games were available for PS2 or Xbox, but not Gamecube. This is a trend that Nintendo needs to do everything in their power to reverse. They need to actively court third party developers, and put real effort into demonstrating how the Wii Remote opens up whole new opportunities for different kinds of games. Nintendo's software properties (Mario, Zelda, Metroid, etc) will move some systems, but in order for the Wii to really dominate the competition, it will need at least one third party killer app. This is going to be the hardest nut for Nintendo to crack, since it requires not only getting greater access to multi-system releases, but also convincing more third party developers to make games exclusively for the Wii. However, if Nintendo plays their cards right and can effectively market the doors opened by the Wii Remote, then they'll have developers running over each other to make games that use it.

Of Perso-Arabic Script

2006-11-14T13:50:00.000-06:00

I have taken it upon myself to learn Persian. I hope to at least learn how to read and write the language, and will consider any spoken proficiency I might develop to be a tidy bonus. Before attempting to learn the language, I did not realize that Persian actually uses a slightly modified form of the Arabic script. In my all too brief work with this script, I have already come to thoroughly enjoy it in itself and also enjoy using it. The reasons for this are twofold. First, I have always regarded Arabic script as being somewhat pretty, but in working with it, I have come to decide that it is a very aesthetically pleasing language. Second, it is written from right-to-left, top-to-bottom, which is a dream come true for a left-handed person such as myself. Unlike writing English, I can write in Persian without having a smear of ink on my hand, and despite years of training that went into making me write from left-to-right, it immediately feels more natural to go right-to-left, even though I'm doing so with an unfamiliar language and alphabet.

Returning to my first point, I wonder if some time working with an alphabet is necessary to appreciate its purely aesthetic qualities. As I said, my opinion of the quality of Arabic became more pronounced as I began writing with it. I am forced to wonder if my opinions of how other alphabets look would change if I spent some time using them. For example, I don't regard the Cyrillic alphabet as being very pleasing to look at, but I wonder if using it would change my mind. It's almost an excuse to learn Russian... almost.

Random Notes on Literature

2006-11-14T13:01:00.000-06:00

I would like to preface this by saying that these ramblings are, as the title suggests, notes and should not be taken as anything more.

Recently, I succeeded (unintentionally) in shocking one of my friends twice in the span of 5 minutes. We were in the library, and the subject of James Joyce's novel, Ulysses, came up. I confessed that I had never read the book. This was shock number one. The second surprise came when he pulled the book off the shelf and had me read the last page of it. My response to the passage he was frothing at the mouth to praise was a mere three words: "Punctuation, use it." For those who don't know, the final page of Ulysses is written as stream-of-consciousness. Now, I'm not some insane grammar nazi who insists on absolutely flawless grammar at all times, and I'm not criticizing the work as a whole (as I said, I have not read it) but that sort of utter disregard for the conventions of language grates on my nerves when it is employed in fiction. To me, written fiction is the attempt to relate a narrative of speculation through the medium of prose language. So, I fail to see how a style that is not operating within that medium can rightly be considered fiction. Our language has conventions of grammar, punctuation, spelling, etc. and if a -- I cannot call him a writer -- scribbler does not make at least some attempt at following these conventions, he is not using our language, and I cannot consider the product of his labors to be fiction written in the English language. It might be eligible for consideration as fiction in the language of English1, but I'm not fluent in that particular language, so I'll require a translation. The only circumstances in which I feel breaking of the rules of language is permissible is when there is a narrative necessity that absolutely demands it. However, such cases are few and far between. The best example of a case such as this is Zora Neale Hurston's novel, Their Eyes Were Watching God, where conventions of spelling are broken in the dialogue in order to capture the appropriate atmosphere of the rural black Southern culture. But, it must be noted, this only occurs in the dialogue, and it is in dialogue that breaking of convention is most often acceptable. To take a borderline case, I believe arguments can be made either way for Anthony Burgess' novel, A Clockwork Orange.

As I pointed out above, and would like to reiterate, I am not criticizing Ulysses. For all I know, it could very well deserve all of the praise that is heaped upon it, and when I finally get around to reading it, I could very well enjoy it immensely. It's even possible that the internal logic of the narrative necessitates the lack of punctuation. However, taking that passage in itself, I am hesitant to say that it is worthy of the name "fiction".

It should come as no surprise that my colleague was aghast at the idea that I would not enjoy even the merest sampling of the greatness of Ulysses. I think that this could potentially be as a result of an intellectual commitment on his part that I find untenable. It seems that his shock was based on believing it impossible that anyone could dislike a great work of fiction (naturally, I'm leaving aside quibbles about what consitutes "great" fiction). But I don't see that there need be any connection between recognizing that a work is good (or bad) and liking (or disliking) it. I think that nearly everyone can think of a work that they recognize is good, but they don't particularly like it. For me, things such as Citizen Kane and Metropolis immediately come to mind. In both cases, I realize that both are absolutely critical to the development of film as a medium and are supremely important movies. I recognize that they are good by that standard. But I don't enjoy watching either movie, and I feel no desire to watch either one more than once. On the other hand, I thoroughly enjoy watching cinematic trash such as The Toxic Avenger. This doesn't strike me as being contradictory; whether I like something is a matter of enjoyment, and whether something is good is the province of artistic standards and how the work fits into them. It might be said that this kind of disconnection between enjoyment and artistic standards signifies the decadence of contemporary society. There could potentially be something to this, but I think that, in fact, the opposite argument can be made just as easily. What is ludicrous and a sign of artistic depth is believing that there is a connection between enjoyment and artistic standards and believing that just because I enjoy something, then it is good. I make the argument based on the grounds that one of the key factors in whether a work is good or not is its impact on other works and on the whole tradition of in which it places itself. I can enjoy a work without knowing anything about its place in a tradition or anything of the kind. We would also be committed to saying that it was somehow incorrect of people to enjoy Shakespeare while he lived since he hadn't yet had such a profound influence and so the jury remained out on whether his work was good or not.

As a further note, endorsing the notion that there must be a match between recognizing something as being good and liking it renders the notion of the "guilty pleasure" totally nonsensical. But, I think, we all understand this notion quite intuitively.

As a final note, I am currently reading The Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole, and I heavily recommend it to everyone.

Resurrection

2006-11-14T13:00:00.000-06:00

Just a note to those wondering why I haven't posted anything here since July: I am alive, but have been rather busy with college. I foresee more free time in the future though, so I'll try to post more often.

The Walking Dead

2006-11-13T00:09:00.000-06:00

The Walking Dead is the zombie movie that I always wanted, one that doesn't end after a measly couple of hours with the characters being rescued, or eaten, or just sort of running off somewhere with a huge question mark as to what is going to become of them. This is a nice extended look at a zombified world. Secondly, it isn't just about zombies eating people and gore (though there is certainly a nice helping of it), but about characters thrown out of their "normal" existence in struggling to survive in a radically new and incredibly dangerous environment. It's very well written by Robert Kirkman, who I had never heard of before (I'm not a big comic book reader, though I'm slowly evolving in to one it seems). I downloaded a torrent of the first 31 issues, and now I'm so addicted I'm going to be hitting up the comic store when the next issue comes out to get my greedy paws on it. I suggest you check it out, even if you're not a fan of comics or zombies. This is well written stuff. If you are a fan of comics or zombies, then it's mandatory. In fact, you probably should have been reading it yesterday. Hurry up and do so before your family members turn in to zombies and consume your flesh.

Chicago Man Self-Immolates to Protest Iraq War: Nobody Notices

2006-11-10T01:21:00.000-06:00

Well OK, the Chicago Reader did, and now Boing Boing has picked up the story.

On Saturday the Sun-Times ran a small item about a man who had set himself on fire during rush hour Friday morning near the Ohio Street exit on the Kennedy. His identity has still not been officially determined, but members of the local jazz and improvised music community say they are certain it was Malachi Ritscher, a longtime supporter of the scene. Bruno Johnson, who owns the free-jazz label Okka Disk, received a package yesterday from Ritscher that included a will, keys to his home, and instructions about what should be done with his belongings. Johnson, a former Chicagoan who now lives in Milwaukee, began making calls. Police are still awaiting the results of dental tests, but Johnson says an officer told one of Ritscher's sisters that all evidence pointed to the body being his; his car was found nearby and he hadn't shown up for work since Thursday.

Buried on Ritscher's web site Chicago Rash Audio Potential, a compendium of invaluable show postings, artwork, and photography, are a suicide note and an obituary. Both indicate that he was deeply troubled by the war in Iraq and pinpoint it as a motive for suicide (no method is specified), though there are indications that he may have had other issues as well. "He had a son, from whom he was estranged (at the son's request), and two grandchildren," reads the obit. "He had many acquaintances, but few friends; and wrote his own obituary, because no one else really knew him." Ritscher was a familiar face at antiwar protests, and he was arrested more than once for his involvement, including this time this past May. A note found at the scene of the immolation reportedly read "Thou Shalt Not Kill."

This reminds me of the passage on suicide in the beginning of Camus' The Myth of Sisyphus, in which he mentioned a writer who killed himself to draw attention to his work, and his work was found to not be very good. This is probably even worse though, a man who lights himself on fire and nobody even notices. I live in Chicago, and didn't hear about this story until reading Boing Boing just now. I suppose it might be in the papers tomorrow. I've driven right past the scene of his suicide hundreds of times, he lit himself up under the "Fire of the Millennium" sculpture. Weird and sad. It seems stupid to kill yourself over anything, especially without a photographer near by (though apparently he set up a video camera to record the act). I can't even laugh at the absurdity of it.

He probably had other problems, and instead of just killing himself over those he wanted to be seen as a martyr for a cause. So he pens a suicide note and lights himself on fire. Reading his suicide note, I can only think, couldn't he have written a better one? It rambles quite a bit. Maybe I'm fooling myself, but his face seems vaguely familiar. Perhaps I saw him at an anti-war protest, heckling him with my megaphone. Or maybe we just passed on the street one day.

His words:

I have had one previous opportunity to serve my country in a meaningful way - at 8:05 one morning in 2002 I passed Donald Rumsfeld on Delaware Avenue and I was acutely aware that slashing his throat would spare the lives of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of innocent people. I had a knife clenched in my hand, and there were no bodyguards visible; to my deep shame I hesitated, and the moment was past.

...

I am amazed how many people think they know me, even people who I have never talked with. Many people will think that I should not be able to choose the time and manner of my own death. My position is that I only get one death, I want it to be a good one. Wouldn't it be better to stand for something or make a statement, rather than a fiery collision with some drunk driver? Are not smokers choosing death by lung cancer? Where is the dignity there? Are not the people the people who disregard the environment killing themselves and future generations? Here is the statement I want to make: if I am required to pay for your barbaric war, I choose not to live in your world. I refuse to finance the mass murder of innocent civilians, who did nothing to threaten our country. I will not participate in your charade - my conscience will not allow me to be a part of your crusade. There might be some who say "it's a coward's way out" - that opinion is so idiotic that it requires no response. From my point of view, I am opening a new door.

Rest in peace, I wish you the best, whether in Heaven, Hell, or just as a collection of ashes blowing over the Kennedy. Too bad you lit yourself on fire just a couple days before the Democrats sweeping Congress and Rumsfeld resigning. Might have cheered you up.

Brett Ratner Strikes Again!

2006-11-09T20:56:00.000-06:00

Brett Ratner, who I know and love from his directing of X3, is, as you probably don't know, directing the upcoming Rush Hour 3. Apparently he approached the screenwriter to make a last minute change to the script:

Just two months before principal photography was meant to commence in Paris on the latest "Rush Hour" sequel, director Brett Ratner came to screenwriter Jeff Nathanson ("Catch Me If You Can") and informed him that he wanted a part written into the Jackie Chan-Chris Tucker action-comedy franchise for Roman Polanski.

Roman Polanski? The guy who wrote and/or directed "Repulsion," "Rosemary's Baby" and "Chinatown," three of the bleakest assessments of human nature ever put on film ... in "Rush Hour 3"?

What's next? Martin Scorsese playing the heavy in the next "Charlie's Angels" sequel?

"Everyone said, 'Yeah, right — Roman Polanski's gonna be in 'Rush Hour 3,' " Nathanson recalls. "We kind of ignored it." But Ratner kept pestering him, claiming that Polanski, a friend of the director's, enjoyed the previous films and really wanted to play a part. So Nathanson drew up several potential characters and scenarios until he and Ratner decided that "the role of a very sadistic French police officer would suit him."

The producers and studio executives remained skeptical. " 'It'll never happen,' " Nathanson remembers them saying. "Nobody believes that there will be a day when you're going to walk onto the set and there's gonna be Roman Polanski, Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker."

Well, until a few weeks ago, when the 73-year-old Oscar-winning director ("The Pianist"), film icon and famous fugitive showed up on the Paris set one day — prepared, curious, and ready to dissect every scene and prop.

Polanski has been in front of the lens before, most notably as the jittery, menacing thug in "Chinatown" who taunts Jack Nicholson with "You are a very nosy fellow, kitty cat ... " before picking the actor's nose with a switchblade.

Sounds like just the guy you want to play off the crazy high jinks of Mssrs. Chan and Tucker.

"The way 'Rush Hour' movies are done, you can't take yourself too seriously," says Nathanson, who avoided writing any ironic or self-referential dialogue that would wink at Polanski's storied personal or professional past. "You have to have a sense of humor about it. There's really no other way to approach these things as a writer, because it is what it is. Roman had that attitude, which was to just go for it and not worry so much about where he lands because there's a safety net in being in something that's really just meant for people to go and have a good time."

Nathanson, who wrote the second "Rush Hour" film and had a hand in the first, has absorbed all this in mostly stoic fashion, despite the "surreal and odd" sensation he felt at having Polanski, a filmmaking idol, approach him to discuss the lines he had written.

"If you hang around Brett Ratner enough," he says with a kind of verbal shrug, "odd situations tend to follow."

The bizarre demands of FARC

2006-11-09T20:42:00.000-06:00

Columbia's communist rebel group, FARC, managed to capture a couple of US "defense contractors" (who would be more traditionally termed "mercenaries") in the jungle. So now, they've started issuing demands:

Colombian rebels want Denzel Washington, Oliver Stone, Michael Moore to help negotiate with government

BOGOTA, Colombia: Colombia's largest rebel group is calling on actor Denzel Washington and filmmakers Oliver Stone and Michael Moore to help it reach a deal with the government on exchanging imprisoned guerrillas for rebel-held hostages, including three U.S. citizens.

The Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, better known as the FARC, issued a letter made public Thursday asking the celebrities to advocate the swap to the American people.

"To the people of the United States, we ask for your always generous solidarity to pressure President Bush and his government to support a prisoner exchange in Colombia," said Raul Reyes, the chief spokesman for the FARC.

The letter was also addressed to leftist academics Noam Chomsky, James Petras and Angela Davis, as well as Democratic activist Jesse Jackson.

Their motivation seems to be to grab some headlines. Their ideal situation would be for Denzel Washington to come on down to the jungles of FARC controlled Columbia, visit a nice little Potemkin Village without any drug manufacture, and leave with the hostages. Hopefully they would be dumb enough to tell everyone what great people the 'ol FARC are, and that they're getting a bad rap in films such as the Governator's Collateral Damage. I don't think this is going to work, though. They've either been down there in the jungle too long, or they've begun sampling their own product.

I doubt the US military is waiting on Denzel to negotiate anything (I really think Samuel L. Jackson would have been a better choice), as we speak they're probably trying to figure out where those guys are being held, and storm in guns blazing.

Politicians Sweep Midterm Elections

2006-11-09T16:21:00.000-06:00

Politicians Sweep Midterm Elections

Resounding Victories In All States, Counties, Cities, Towns

WASHINGTON, DC—After months of aggressive campaigning and with nearly 99 percent of ballots counted, politicians were the big winners in Tuesday's midterm election, taking all 435 seats in the House of Representatives, retaining a majority with 100 out of 100 seats in the Senate, and pushing political candidates to victory in each of the 36 gubernatorial races up for grabs.

While analysts had been predicting a possible sweep for months, and early exit-poll numbers seemed favorable, politicians reportedly exceeded even their own expectations, gaining an impressive 100 percent of the overall national vote.

"It's a good night to be a politician," said Todd Akin, an officeholder from Missouri. "The American people have spoken, and they have unanimously declared: 'We want elected officials to lead this nation.'"

Already confident they would have an easy time in the Midwest, a region long known for electing politicians, as well as with poll-going Americans in the deep South, politicians also picked up seats in each additional area of the country.

"We expected politicians to take Washington, Indiana, Oregon, Minnesota, Pennsylvania, Michigan, North Carolina, Maryland, South Carolina, Georgia, North Dakota, Mississippi, Montana, Vermont, Maine, Kentucky, California, Iowa, Alaska, Connecticut, Florida, Idaho, Louisiana, Alabama, Virginia, Delaware, Wisconsin, and Arkansas," said Georgetown University political science professor Barbara Steward. "But the fact that voters in the urban areas of Rhode Island and the farmlands of West Virginia, along with every other state, all put politicians into office is quite extraordinary."

"Even in the most hotly contested local races that went down to the wire, politicians still came out on top every time," she added.

This year's results are the most unanimous since the last election two years ago, in which politicians enjoyed widespread victories unrivaled since the election before that, and the one in 2000.

Politicians managed to appeal to all economic and ethnic backgrounds, genders, and age groups, enjoying equal success among both liberal voters and conservatives.

Issues advanced by politicians dominated not only the Senate and House races, but also all state, district council, county, and town-board elections.

"It looks like politicians are poised to dominate the political discourse of the country for years to come," said analyst Maria Lawson of the Free Enterprise Institute, who as long ago as December of 2004 had picked congressmen to once again take over the House of Representatives. "This should allow them to pursue their own political agendas almost unimpeded, sign even more bills into law, and appoint fellow politicians to committee chairmanships, special interest commissions, and other posts of power."

Added Lawson: "While it's still too early to tell, after the success of this election, it might not be too long before we see another politician in the White House."

Despite fears that the dozens of campaign-finance violations, soft-money misappropriations, infidelity charges, hidden drunk-driving records, and protracted congressional cover-ups leaked just days before the election would hurt their chances, politicians were still elected over non-politicians in every single race.

"The fact that not a single non-politician even ran for office is just further proof that the American people tend to vote for politicians during times of war," Steward said. "Past data also suggests that the American people tend to vote for politicians during times of peace, as well as, generally speaking, every two years."

Some voters, however, such as Arkansas native Patrick Bunter, who first voted for a politician—Harry Truman—in 1948, are calling this latest victory "politics as usual."

"Over the years, I grew disappointed with the job the politicians were doing, yet I kept on voting for them out of loyalty," Bunter said. "This time around, I swore I'd go with someone else, but frankly, looking at the ballot, I didn't see any other choice."

Campaigns Near Climax As Polls Tighten

2006-11-07T00:47:00.000-06:00

Campaigns Near Climax As Polls Tighten

Rev. Haggard gets a face full of Santorum

2006-11-02T21:50:00.000-06:00

Republicans seem to have issues with answering machines. First this (here's a tip public officials: don't record yourself dropping the N word like Richard Nixon) and now this story.

The Rev. Ted Haggard resigned as president of the 30 million-member National Association of Evangelicals on Thursday after being accused of paying a man for sex in monthly trysts over the past three years.

Mike Jones, 49, of Denver told the AP he decided to go public with his allegations because of the political fight.

Jones said he has voice mails from Haggard as well as an envelope he said Haggard used to mail him cash. He declined to make any of it available to the AP.

“There’s some stuff on there (the voice mails) that’s pretty damning,” he said.

I know! It sounds too cliche to even be true! It's like something a liberal screenwriter would come up with. But if Mr. Jones is to be believed, it's the case! Christ, that guy is sitting on a gold mine. He'd better sell those voice mails now while the story is hot. Rev. Haggard has been a vocal opponent of gay marriage, which is apparently on the ballot in Colorado. Wonder how this will effect turnout? It might actually help conservatives, because the pro-gay folks are going to die laughing.

I wonder if Haggard likes Santorum's? They should hook up if Santorum loses the election, they'd be very happy together.

Eastwood's Flags of Our Fathers

2006-10-29T11:10:00.000-06:00

An interesting article about Eastwood's film Flags of Our Fathers, explaining Spielberg's involvement and this nice tidbit:

Eastwood was more interested in the fate of the flag-raisers than in the battle itself. “I didn’t set out to make a war movie. I cared about these three fellows, the headliners on the war-bond circus (who were toured around the America to raise money for the war effort).” The one-time Republican, who voted for the political maverick Ross Perot in the 1990s and now describes himself as a libertarian, said he never intended to make an unpatriotic movie, but that’s how some people will read it. “I guess, if you see both the movies together, they sum up as an anti-war movie. Whether it’s about territory or religion, war is horrifyingly and depressingly archaic.”

Bush's plans for martial law

2006-10-29T10:59:00.000-06:00

Another paranoid plan from the Bush administration:

For the current President, "enforcement of the laws to restore public order" means to commandeer guardsmen from any state, over the objections of local governmental, military and local police entities; ship them off to another state; conscript them in a law enforcement mode; and set them loose against "disorderly" citizenry - protesters, possibly, or those who object to forced vaccinations and quarantines in the event of a bio-terror event.

The law also facilitates militarized police round-ups and detention of protesters, so called "illegal aliens," "potential terrorists" and other "undesirables" for detention in facilities already contracted for and under construction by Halliburton. That's right. Under the cover of a trumped-up "immigration emergency" and the frenzied militarization of the southern border, detention camps are being constructed right under our noses, camps designed for anyone who resists the foreign and domestic agenda of the Bush administration.

Fabulous. By the time Bush is out of office, some future president will be able to snap his fingers and activate an entire infrastructure on par with that of Adolf Hitler of Josef Stalin.

Trailer park speed freak has government secrets?

2006-10-29T10:37:00.000-06:00

Obviously, the nation's nuclear secrets are secure.

Los Alamos, New Mexico – the Los Alamos National Laboratory, one of the nation's key nuclear weapons research centers faced a potentially major security violation as three laboratory computer drives were found by the police during a drug arrest at a New Mexico trailer park.

"Security has always been a very serious matter at Los Alamos National Laboratory. But it's also a changing field," said Kevin Roark, a lab spokesman. "We're always adapting to new emerging threats."

The owner of the trailer, where officers found a sizable amount of drug paraphernalia was identified as Jessica Quintana, in the police reports released Wednesday. Quintana formerly worked as a contract employee at the lab.

Laboratory data was found by the authorities in the mobile home, owned by Quintana. A self-described methamphetamine addict, Justin Stone who was renting a room there denied having any knowledge about the data.

"I was basically at the wrong place at the wrong time," Stone, 20, told The Associated Press in a telephone interview from jail.

The article doesn't say if they've located Ms. Quintana, I assume they're looking.

Getting Waterboarded

2006-10-28T18:34:00.000-05:00

A demonstration of Waterboarding.

Naenara: North Korea's Totally Bizarre Website

2006-10-25T01:16:00.000-05:00

You won't believe this shit.

From the site's FAQ:

What is WWW.KCCKP.NET?

WWW.KCCKP.NET is the biggest Internet site of the DPRK that operates as a base for providing useful information on politics, the economy, culture and other fields in the country.

The inter-Korean relations have entered a landmark phase since the historic June 15, 2000 Joint Declaration, focusing worldwide interest in Korea's eventual reunification.

Korea's international relations such as those with China, Russia, the United States and Japan are high-profile matters.

This prompts the need for a quicker and correct understanding of and solidarity with Korea on the part of the world community.

What kind of information is available?

Visitors to our site are allowed access to profound and wide-ranging information about Korea: Korea's clear-cut and consistent stand on the current international affairs, and information on the endeavours of the Korean people to build a socialist powerful nation.

Is my membership needed?

Of course, not always. Without it, you can still browse a lot of information. However membership is recommended for full benefit in using our website.

What additional information service is available?

You'll have your own mail account and make a full use of convenient "Naenara" web mail service.

Users can have a regular supply of news and information of interest through "Naenara" e-mail.

How is user information protected?

User information is managed in tight security, for full privacy.

Naenara website has built a flexible security environment and is upgrading it continuously. It uses SSL.

A round-the-clock monitoring system is on to provide against hacking and viruses.

You read that? You can get yourself a commie email address! As to their guarantees for privacy and security, not sure if I buy that from a totalitarian state. But you know, that's just me.

This site is full of unfathomable weirdness. You can buy ringtones, something they call "characters" (animated propagandistic GIFs that they're charging money for, apparently), North Korean films, and fine art from North Korea. All the prices are listed in US Dollars. Is this some weird attempt for them to raise cash? I don't think giving NK your credit card information is a very good idea, they'll probably go on a spending binge on decadent Western porn sites or something. I really am tempted by the films, though. Someone should hack this site and get them for free, I'm sure it isn't that hard for the technically implied. I mean this is NK, they're a complete fucking joke, right?

This site is almost too much for one blog post. Just check out these films:

The Korean Film “Order 027”

The film realistically shows a reconnoitering party of the Korean People’s Army discharging its mission to the last.

The duty of the reconnoitering party;

First, strike out at a new enemy task force and sap its combat strength. Second, attack the enemy staff and confirm the whereabouts of the enemy paratroopers dropped on to the area occupied by the KPA. Do this in three days!


Scenarist:	Ri Sang Uk
Producers:	Jong Ki Mo & Kim Ung Sok
Cameraman:	Pak Jin Bok
Hero:	Kim Jong Un

	Korean People’s Army April 25 Film Studio

The Korean Film “The Bloodstained Roadmap” (Two Parts)

The film shows Japan attempting craftily and atrociously to make the Usan (Tok) Islet its own.

A gold Buddhist image of Koryo, which has been handed down through generations, testifies that the islet belongs to Korea.

Who dare distort or destroy history!

Why can't they be good little commies and give this stuff away for free? I'm sure it's entertainment value is through the roof, though I somehow doubt this stuff is subtitled.

The "Boy General" Children's films are particularly disturbing. They're about a young boy who somehow ends up as general of some medieval equivalent of North Korea, which is at war with some other wicked nation.

"Little viewers, you know who shot an arrow at Soe Me, don’t you? That particular wicked enemy has again intrigued against Soe Me, giving you the shivers. What about joining in tracking him down?"

Is that the captured traitor?

Powell's former chief of staff: around 35,000 in US secret prisons

2006-10-25T00:45:00.000-05:00

An astonishing figure. This isn't in the mainstream media yet that I've seen, just in the blogosphere.

I’m at the Center for American Progress, listening to Sid Blumenthal and Glenn Greenwald talk about the Imperial Presidency, and one thing is important enough for me to want to live blog. Sid says that Wilkerson, Powell’s old chief of staff, believes that the correct number of victims in secret Bush prisons is 35,000, only %5 of which “may” have to do with terrorism. More than twice what I thought, and hardly any to do with the “war on terror.”

Believe it or not, even half that number is pretty chilling.

Japan nuke?

2006-10-24T03:15:00.000-05:00

North Korea is making the Japanese anxious.

Japan's foreign minister said Tuesday that the country should openly debate whether to develop its own nuclear deterrent following North Korea's atomic test, while stressing that the government doesn't support such a move.

Foreign Minister Taro Aso told a parliamentary committee that the Japanese government would stick to its three non-nuclear principles of not possessing, developing or allowing nuclear bombs on Japanese soil.

"As the government, there is no change to those principles," he said, stressing his adherence to the policy a week after stirring controversy by saying Japan should consider the nuclear option to counter the threat posed by Pyongyang's Oct. 9 atomic test.

But he said the regional security environment has changed since the policy were introduced in the 1960s.

"It's only natural to discuss how we should cope with the changing environment around us," Aso said. "I'm not in favor of suppressing a debate over whether we should or should not possess nuclear (bombs) or stick to the three non-nuclear principles."

Their anxiety is justified, in my opinion. Japan and Korea have a long history of conflict, and despite all the breathless US media coverage anyone with a brain knows the NK nuclear program is aimed at hitting Japan rather than the United States.

It certainly wouldn't be difficult for a country like Japan to develop nuclear weaponry. They have nuclear power plants and obviously the technological know how. If current trends continue Japan seems to be heading in a more militaristic direction (which isn't as scary as it sounds considering the government right now is officially pacifist). If a really nasty war in Asia broke out, I'm not sure the Japanese could completely depend on the US military, which in the foreseeable future will be fixated on blowing up the Middle East. It would make sense for them to have their own capabilities.

Hungarian Riots

2006-10-24T00:28:00.000-05:00

Hungarians are apparently not fans of their state television service!

Hungarians are pissed. The rioting has begun anew and is intense:

Police turned out in their hundreds to face the last grouping on Elizabeth Bridge in central Budapest, one of seven spanning the Danube, where about 5,000 protesters built a barricade using materials from a nearby construction site.

They burned cars and blocked off several side streets. Police moved at 1:30 a.m. today, first firing a water cannon and a volley of tear gas grenades into Sandor Petofi street. On the Buda side of the bridge they used a snow plough to clear a road block.

A few hundred demonstrators chanting ``Gyurcsany get away!'' remained by the time police charged from both ends of the bridge. Rioters thumped the barricade, reverberating across downtown in the night while police gathered.

...

`The leaders of this country are the descendents of the servants of the dictatorship,'' said Janos Kovacs, 55, who said his father was killed during the revolution. Kovacs, in the crowd with his son, spoke as clouds of teargas wafted over the street.

One group drove a tank that was part of an exhibition of 1956 memorabilia at the police barricade. Jozsef Hollo, head of the military history institute, said the vehicle had no battery and protesters must have installed one to get it started.

I'm really impressed when I hear stuff like that, people installing a battery in an old tank in a museum so they can scare the shit out of the police. I think it's a particularly Eastern European, former Soviet Union sort of thing. It's what happens when you turn entire nations of very smart people in to prisons with limited resources, they improvise some incredible shit. Believe me, meet anybody that lived on the other side of the Iron Curtain, and you'll find out they've got skills. My family's Polish cleaning lady could probably take out a Panzer using only kitchen utensils.

The Hungarians aren't fans of their commie prime minister, who made the incredible fuckup of admitting he was a liar on tape. That's the one thing you can count on with commies, they're usually not the sharpest tools in the shed. Mad props to the Hungarian rioters. I hope they run the commie scumbags out of office and install some kind of ultra right wing, rabidly capitalist junta and then declare war on Russia. Or something. I'm almost disappointed I don't live in Hungary, those riots look like fantastic fun. But then of course, I would live in Hungary.

I can't resist posting another video.

Look at the piggies run!

Movie Review: Flags of Our Fathers

2006-10-23T23:56:00.000-05:00

Eastwood's newest film is a sombre, unflinching look at war and the men that fight it, sharply contrasted with the cultural perception and repackaging of war. The film flows between the modern day story of a son trying to learn of his father's never spoken of war experiences, the Battle of Iwo Jima, and a tour of the flag raising "Heroes of Iwo Jima" where they are trotted out to get people to buy War Bonds.

Visually, the film replicates (and I mean exactly) Spielberg's style in Saving Private Ryan, which it seems is the new gold standard. From now on, movie war will be forever fought in sepia tones, point of view shots, and shaking camera movements. The heavy use of CGI also gives it a very hyper realistic look, which actually fits the tone of the movie. This is the World War Two of memories, of the collective unconscious if you will. The style is more of the same but that doesn't stop it from being awesome. This is really incredible stuff. A good job is done showing the use of military tactics in the war. Japanese machine gunners, knowing they are doomed to be killed eventually, cleverly wait until US soldiers advance right smack dab in to the middle of the planned kill zone before gunning them down mercilessly. You can't help but feel admiration for the courage of the men fighting on all sides. This isn't just me hating America, it's definetly Eastwood's intention as he plans to do a second film on Iwo Jima from the Japanese perspective.

I haven't looked at other reviews, but I'm thinking a lot of people weren't blown away by this one. We've all seen Saving Private Ryan so the stylism isn't breaking any new ground, and that's part of it. I think the main problem though is that Eastwood is making a point of not making any clear point, or at least burying it very deeply. All this film really has to say on the face of it is that war is incomprehensible cruelty for the men that fight it, and they are doomed to be alienated from society as a result of their experiences. People want war to be some clear, coherent storyline of a battle between good and evil, or at least a battle between two nations. Eastwood is saying forget all that, war is just really an incredibly fucked up scenario in which men fight bravely, not for their nations or for good or evil, but for their buddies. This sets it apart thematically from Saving Private Ryan, which gave you the sense of America struggling against the evil Germans. This is hardly an anti-war film either, I could see Eastwood doing a film exactly like this except for Vietnam. Anti-war protestors are as equally naive as pro-war cheerleaders.

I liked this film a lot. It showed the cruel reality of war, conveyed real experiences, and also sidestepped the propagandistic nature of most war films out there. It's a tribute to not just the the men at Iwo Jima, or American troops, or WW2 soldiers, but to anyone who has ever participated in the military struggles of human history.

Movie Review: The Prestige

2006-10-23T23:25:00.000-05:00

I've been excited about The Prestige for a good while. Directed by Christopher Nolan (Memento, Batman Begins) and starring the phenomenal Christian Bale, the loaded with potential Hugh Jackman, and the cinematic wallpaper designated 'Scarlet Johansson'. It also features one of my favorite musicians, David Bowie, who continues to show that he can act as well.

The less you know about the film the better, so if you just take my word that it's good, go and see it and read the rest of this later. Anyway, onwards.

The film is about two rival magicians, one with more natural talent but a lack of showmanship, and another with less talent and more showmanship. I was reminded of Stranger in a Strange Land, where Mike, who actually can do "magic", becomes a carny but his act is a flop because of his lack of skill in presentation. For the first magician, Bale, magic is more of a discipline and dedication to an art, while to Jackman's character, its ultimately entertainment. The two men begin as friends, but a terrible tragedy makes them bitter enemies, locked in to a cycle of obsession and revenge. They try to steal each other's tricks and crash each other's shows to try and maim and kill each other. The story is told in an interesting way, with each man reading each other's diaries. This could have easily been cumbersome and confusing (and was a bit at times) but Nolan and the writers do an excellent job in keeping the story flowing naturally. The central mystery of the film is a trick which seems to be impossible to fake, "The Transported Man". How is it done? Is it real magic?

This is a fantastically dense movie which is just bursting at the seams with subjects and themes that could be films in themselves. To mention a few: magic at the turn of the century, the life of Nikola Tesla and his strange theories, what makes a good magic trick, the nature of science, philosophy of art. It's at the same time a fantasy and a historical period piece. The screenplay refuses to talk down to the audience like most Hollywood films (hell, films in general tend to keep things simple). It put me in mind of a Neal Stephenson novel or an intellectual play. The fact that it made 14 million this weekend practically restores my faith in humanity.

Despite all the ideas being batted around, it's still grounded in the strange, obsessed lives of these two men. I'm eager to see it again, I feel this is a movie that will reward repeat viewings. If you like great directing, acting (with the exception of Johansson, ugh), and an intelligent screenplay, in other words if you like movies, you have to go and see this one.

In case you didn't know...

2006-10-23T23:23:00.000-05:00

This site rocks. The secret agent station is the most listenable thing ever.

I think I may have even posted about this site before, if so, oh well, can't do it enough!

Everybody's favorite pig man, Kim Jong Il

2006-10-23T23:02:00.000-05:00

This article has some interesting anecdotes about Kim:

He is driving through the streets of his capital, Pyongyang, one day and notices a shivering, female traffic officer. Struck in part, perhaps, by her beauty, Kim sets off immediately to personally design and issue new, warmer uniforms.

...

He is thought to be a movie buff, owning more than 15,000 movies, enjoying in particular action films like the James Bond movies, Rambo, and the horror classic “Friday the 13th.” He has denied this but acknowledged being a fan of NBA basketball.

Among the other tidbits of the man known to his countrymen as “Dear Leader:” He is known to have spoken in public only once. He has a taste for fine wines and Hennessy cognac, which costs him up to $800,000 a year. He has a fear of flying and travels by armored train.

He owns yachts, limousines and thoroughbreds. For entertainment, he employs a “joy brigade,” beautiful young women recruited by virtue of their flawless posture and complexion to indulge Kim and his guests. Every grain of rice he eats is inspected for visual flaws. And it is cooked only in the traditional manner, over a wood fire, the fuel felled from the forests of North Korea’s highest mountain. Although the leader of a starving nation, he enjoys imported caviar, shark’s liver and sushi.

...

Then there is the South Korean actress and her film director husband, whom Kim kidnapped in 1978. The two spent eight years in North Korea as Kim’s “guests,” forced to help him build a film industry in his country.

According to a book the couple wrote about their captivity, Kim reportedly asked the actress Choe Un-hui upon their first meeting, “Well, Madame Choe, what do you think of my physique? Small as a midget’s droppings, aren’t I?”

His height has been reported to be 5 feet 2 inches or 5 feet 3 inches, with the aid of heels. Partly because of Kim’s short stature, Post said, “one can see that underneath his grandiose facade, he is a very insecure individual.”

...

Soviet documents indicate that he more likely was born in a Siberian village where his father was the captain of a special Soviet rifle brigade made up of Chinese and Korean exiles. When World War II ended, the family moved into a mansion with a garden and pool in Pyongyang. His younger brother drowned in that pool.

According to two defectors, Kim Jong Il had a hand in his brother’s death, preventing him from coming up for air. The stories have been widely circulated but never confirmed. His mother later died during pregnancy when Kim was 7, before the family left for the safety of China at the start of the Korean War.

Laibach: Sympathy For The Devil

2006-10-21T03:21:00.000-05:00

This video is just so awesomely corny, I had to post it.

Movie Review: The Departed

2006-10-20T21:21:00.000-05:00

"The Departed" features the best use of cellphones in a film yet. Ringtones alert the characters to the locations of their enemies in Boston's gritty streets. Life and death hinges on covert text messages. It could have easily come off as lame, but Scorcese made it work. Guess he keeps up with the times, eh?

The story comes from a Hong Kong film Infernal Affairs, which I have also seen. This is the rare circumstance where the American remake is actually better, though I preferred the ending of Infernal Affairs (I won't spoil it here, you'll just have to see both films I guess). However, this film was better because of the quality of the performances from Nicholson and DiCaprio (Damon plays a boring prick, he was quite well cast). Nicholson is an Irish gangster who is basically the physical embodiment of evil. The devil. He obviously relishes playing an evil character as much as the character relishes in his own evil. It works absolutely perfectly. DiCaprio is also great as the classic "man with nothing to lose" who can suddenly explode in to violent rage.

Needless to say the direction is also excellent, this is a Scorcese film. He throws in some odd stylistic flourishes to mix things up a bit, and they work well. The plot is full of twists and turns but isn't dependent upon it, I know that for sure because I already knew what would happen from seeing the Hong Kong film. Buy your ticket and enjoy the ride.

Wow

2006-10-19T17:38:00.000-05:00

A mainstream media news anchor says what needs to be said. Incredible.

Thanks to Johan Ridenfeldt at ASC for the tipoff.

Laibach- Anglia

2006-10-18T18:47:00.000-05:00

A video for Anglia, from Laibach's new album Volk, has been released.

If there is a God, Laibach will do a North American tour and come to Chicago. Or anywhere in North America really, I'll drive.

Sports Meltdowns

2006-10-18T18:28:00.000-05:00

Tnere are so many greats. Above is the recent rant of Arizona Cardinal's coach Dennis Green after their loss to an amazing comeback by the Chicago Bears. My personal favorite is the lengthy tirade by Chicago Cubs manager Lee Elia as they opened the 1983 season 5-13. At a close second is Oriole's manager Earl Weaver's appearance on the radio show the "managers corner".

The Lidless Eye of Terror

2006-10-18T17:32:00.000-05:00

I can't resist posting about this.

Embattled U.S. Sen. Rick Santorum said America has avoided a second terrorist attack for five years because the “Eye of Mordor” has been drawn to Iraq instead.

“As the hobbits are going up Mount Doom, the Eye of Mordor is being drawn somewhere else,” Santorum said, describing the tool the evil Lord Sauron used in search of the magical ring that would consolidate his power over Middle-earth.
“It's being drawn to Iraq and it's not being drawn to the U.S.,” Santorum continued. “You know what? I want to keep it on Iraq. I don't want the Eye to come back here to the United States."

I don't even know what to say. Wow. Speaks for itself, really.

The Bush Administration and Space

2006-10-18T17:15:00.000-05:00

Bush just unveiled a new space policy for the US Government. The key points:

-Manned exploration is emphasized over scientific probes.
-Plans for militarization of space.

This has been met with the predictable bitching. My response is tepidly positive. The focus on manned exploration is good. NASA's emphasis on sending out robots is a bunch of shit. Not that you can't learn anything from them, but working towards manned missions and colonization is a far more important and greater goal. However, I'm not filled with excitement, because this is NASA we're talking about: a bloated bureaucracy whose main purpose is welfare for scientists, bureaucrats, and aerospace companies. As for militarization of space, I'm not particularly worried. Governments already have thermonuclear weapons, putting missiles in space isn't that much more frightening (though it obviously makes it more difficult to defend against them).

Far more interesting than anything NASA has done in the past 30 years is what's been happening recently in the private sector. Keep an eye on Bigelow Aerospace and their planned orbiting module. Along with Virgin, they could end up establishing the space tourism industry. Hopefully it will be succesfull enough to fund more research and development, and lower costs, leading to more profits. The Bigelow facility seems to be far better than that piece of shit ISS, and at a far lower cost.

"Disaffected people" the next major security threat

2006-10-17T18:21:00.000-05:00

Chertoff: Web Could Be Terror Training Camp.

Disaffected people living in the United States may develop radical ideologies and potentially violent skills over the Internet and that could present the next major U.S. security threat, U.S. Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff said on Monday.
"We now have a capability of someone to radicalize themselves over the Internet," Chertoff said on the sidelines of a meeting of International Association of the Chiefs of Police.
"They can train themselves over the Internet. They never have to necessarily go to the training camp or speak with anybody else and that diffusion of a combination of hatred and technical skills in things like bomb-making is a dangerous combination," Chertoff said. "Those are the kind of terrorists that we may not be able to detect with spies and satellites."
Chertoff pointed to the July 7, 2005, attacks on London's transit system, which killed 56 people, as an example a home-grown threat.
To help gather intelligence on possible home-grown attackers, Chertoff said Homeland Security would deploy 20 field agents this fiscal year into "intelligence fusion centers," where they would work with local police agencies.
By the end of the next fiscal year, he said the department aims to up that to 35 staffers.

Not to be alarmist, but I'm wondering if the Feds have a case against me. Actually, it doesn't matter if they do or not because of the United States' brand new legal system. But will they have enough of a cover story to convince the media I'm dangerous? Shouldn't be too hard, they're awfully compliant. I certainly have radical views. I've read my share of "cookbooks" for explosives and such on the internet (not that I've tried anything, since it's a collosally bad idea). I even have the Mujahideen Poisons Handbook on my hard drive (though according to a chemist, it isn't as dangerous as it sounds). Even though its full of instructions that even I can tell with my layman's knowledge are completely ridiculous, it could be construed as intent.

Now I doubt I'll be dragged off anytime soon. But it's a bit disturbing that everything is being put in to place for that to happen, if someone high enough in government wants it to. The rhetoric from the Department of Homeland Security (a name that made me laugh when I first heard it, since it sounds like it was ripped from the pages of some fascist dystopia) and other members of the Bush administration has been incredibly paranoid and even, I dare say, totalitarian. Mr. Rumsfeld is more worried about the New York Times than Osama Bin Laden, and Chertoff wants to monitor "radicalized" individuals on the internet.

Now, I'm not saying there isn't any sense in that. But for any serious terrorist, a couple of hours of downloading on the internet is going to give them a level of secrecy beyond that of the United States Military in WW2. Of course, the way to break that security is to infiltrate that group with a spy, but isn't that a bit beyond their manpower?

If the members of the Bush administration are serious about preventing terrorism, here's what they should do:

1) End the drug war, a major source of funding for terrorist activities.
2) Embark on an isolationist foreign policy with no US troops outside of its borders.
3) Hang themselves.

That won't happen, of course. The government will "cure" the problem it has created. It's medicine: paranoia, billions of wasted dollars, and the trampling of civil liberties.

United States now has pop. of 300 Million

2006-10-17T04:22:00.000-05:00

This article has some interesting stats.

Sometime today, the population of the United States will reach 300 million inhabitants, according to Census Bureau projections. Moreover, our growth rate is accelerating. After taking 139 years after independence to reach 100 million, we doubled that in 52 years, and required only 39 years since 1967 to reach the latest milestone.

And by the end of the 21st century, we're supposed to hit 600 million, doubling the number of people we now have from sea to shining sea.

The United States is the only industrialized nation with significant population growth. In Europe, Russia and Japan, births lag behind deaths.

The Census Bureau says an international migrant arrives here every 31 seconds, but a baby is born in the United States every seven seconds.

America continues to build its ethnic diversity. Immigrants make up 12.4 percent of the nation's population, up from 11.2 percent in 2000.

"Half of the population growth in the United States in any month or week is Hispanic," said William Frey, a demographer at the Brookings Institution and the University of Michigan.

The article speculates about whether or not, with all the growth, the nation can remain unified. I think population size doesn't have much to do with, whether a nation remains unified has a lot more to do with cultural factors. China has 1.3 billion people. People considered themselves "German" even when politically, the region had hundreds of different rulers. A nation is best defined as some kind of cultural commonality first, and political unity second.

So what does that mean for the United States? In certain areas of Chicago, you can walk for miles through areas lacking in any English speakers. I can hop on the train right now and in 30 minutes be in the the cultural equivalent of Mexico. Secondly, as the article points out, even when race remains the same our culture has fragmented. We've gone from a period where everyone in America watched the same stuff on a couple of networks, to the modern world of cable television and Youtube. Different people on the street in a major city will often have quite different cultural backgrounds, religious beliefs, etc. I think this will only accelerate, and that will have political consequences. Modern communications have made old political systems increasingly irrelevant. If you think about it, our government is incredibly backward, basically designed for conditions existing 300 years ago. It is also incredibly alienated from the regular life of American people. What will happen? We might see new forms of democracy, revolutions, secession movements, and increasingly segregated communities not just based on race, but on religion, philosophy, or lifestyle.

Personally, I hope the US gets all balkanized and anarchical. Why? It'd be fun, and might increase individual liberty in certain areas. It'll be far easier to change a smaller, more local government, or to vote for your feet. Also, I can't wait to live in the Chicago Imperium or Mr. Lee's Greater Hong Kong. However, I'm not especially optimistic. The herd love their United States far too much. What the hell will we do on the Fourth of July without it?

Secret agent / terrorist organization tricks!

2006-10-17T04:12:00.000-05:00

Member of some diabolical conspiracy? Government whistleblower? James Bond? This will come in handy. Says lifehacker:

The Tech Tray weblog has posted a tutorial for hiding secret files inside JPEG images using the popular Windows archiver, WinRAR, and a little command line magic.

Basically, you create a .rar archive of your to-be-hidden file, then run a copy command from the Windows command line (with the /b binary switch) to embed your secret file in your image. After you complete the process, you can open and view the JPEG like any other image - the only thing that might tip off that the image has got a secret is a potentially bloated file size. To grab the secret file, you just use WinRAR to extract the file from the image.

You should also get truecrypt to encrypt that data even further. Enjoy, and remember, I had nothing to do with it.

Lou Piniella is Completely Insane

2006-10-16T08:35:00.000-05:00

The Sun Times is reporting that Lou Piniella will be the next manager of the Chicago Cubs.

''Listen, I'm not interested in managing just to say I'm a major-league manager,'' Piniella told the Sun-Times over the weekend during the ALCS in Detroit. ''I'm looking for an opportunity to win.''
The feeling in Piniella's camp is the Cubs have the resources -- with a payroll expected to jump to the $115 million range -- and some key core players, such as first baseman Derrek Lee, third baseman Aramis Ramirez, All-Star pitcher Carlos Zambrano and catcher Michael Barrett, to make a serious run in a potentially weak National League Central.

Lee, Ramirez, Zambrano and Barret are good players, it's true. But they do not the Cubs make, because the rest of the team is absolute shit. There are still four other guys that have to play the field and bat every day, and four other pitchers. Kerry Wood is history's most expensive pile of garbage, Mark Prior is injury prone but I guess COULD turn things around. So there's two pitchers, maybe. Who else is going to be trotted out there? Carlos Marmol? Christ.

Signing on with the Cubs is the biggest mistake ever. Do I even have to explain why? He thought the Devil Rays were shitty to manage? Just wait, Lou. Just wait for this shit! Wrigley Field is like some massive black hole of suckiness. When I go by it on the Red Line, I hear a gurgling noise. You know what that noise is? It's the noise of the hopes and dreams of Chicago Cubs fans, players, managers, batboys, scoreboard operators, win flag raisers, etc. being flushed down the toilet. And if you listen really closely, really crane your neck and focus, you can hear the rustle of money in the background and the tinny laughter of Cubs ownership past, present, and future. My prediction is that Lou Piniella will die in the middle of some crushing loss in September, 2007, after the Cubs have been eliminated from the playoffs for at least two months. You heard it here first. Doesn't Piniella seem like a guy that's going to have a massive coronary at any second to you? He does to me.

Also, Steve Lyons was fired for absolutely nothing. I hope all the Fox broadcasters start reading off racial slurs A-Z on the air during the World Series, maybe we'll get somebody decent next year. Plus, that'd probably be more informative then what they talk about now. They can have that animated baseball explain racial stereotypes instead of pitches. "John Buck just called Magglio Ordonez a 'spic'! That's an abbreviation for Hispanic, and is very offensive!". It'd be a hell of a lot more exciting than the Fox team's home run call when Paul Konerko hit A COME FROM BEHIND GRAND FUCKING SLAM in the WORLD FUCKING SERIES. Shit. I hate Fox. You know what they should do? Every time the morons at Fox mispronounce a player's name, they should deem that racially insensitive. Then they'll all be fired, because they're idiots who don't even watch any baseball, so they've never seen any of the player's names before. You could castrate me and dose me up with meth, and my high speed highly pitched voice would be far more pleasant to listen to and informative than those assholes at Fox. Did I mention I hate Fox's MLB Broadcasts? I do. I really do.

The Tamil Tigers strike again

2006-10-16T08:12:00.000-05:00

My favorite insurgent group, the Tamil Tigers, have struck again.

At least 92 sailors and civilians were killed and more than 100 wounded today in a suicide bomb blast in central Sri Lanka.
Military officials said a suspected Tamil Tiger bomber rammed a truck laden with explosives into a naval road convoy. A spokesman said the death toll could rise.
Around 13 of the 15 buses travelling in the convoy near the town of Habarana were damaged in the explosion.
The blast comes just days after dozens of Sri Lankan government troops and rebels were killed and hundreds wounded in a battle.

Wow. That is one massive truck bomb, sounds almost as big as the one McVeigh used in Oklahoma City. I hope one of the Tiger's relatives in Canada Fed Exed him a video camera to get that on video, it'll be a big hit with all the sick fucks on Ogrish.

If you don't know about the Tamil Tiger's check out this excellent War Nerd article. These guys carry around cyanide capsules! Asia is the wildest place on Earth.

Iraqi Civil War!!

2006-10-16T07:59:00.000-05:00

So I made that post down there about how we might as well call it a civil war now, just last night. Now this morning I check the news, and bammo, speak of the devil!

Iraqis flee homeland, parliament votes to allow partition, reconciliation conference postponed

The savage Sunni Arab and al-Qaida insurgency that first shoved Iraq toward chaos three years ago clearly had taken a back seat by Sunday to the growing sectarian bloodletting that is now ravaging the country in its spiral toward — if not deeper into — civil war.

Evidence continued to mount in the 44th month of U.S. involvement that Iraqi centers of power — politicians and the government, the police and military — were unable or unwilling to rein in violence in parts of the country where Sunni and Shiite Muslim or Kurdish populations rub up against one another.

The violence has forced at least 1.5 million Iraqis to flee their homeland, with hundreds of new passports being issued daily to those who can afford a plane ticket or taxi ride out of the country, according to the Migration Ministry. The ministry said 300,000 people had left their homes for elsewhere in Iraq.

The Shiite Majority in parliament, over complaints of dirty tricks from rival Sunni and even some Shiite legislators, adopted a measure that would allow the effective partition of the country after an 18-month waiting period.

That would leave Iraq with a weak central government and largely independent states run by Kurds in the north, Shiites in the south and Sunnis in the center and west — giving impetus for still more violence and still further population upheaval.

Sunni insurgents have also declared an Islamic state in Iraq.

The Iraqi Civil War

2006-10-15T19:37:00.000-05:00

Might as well call it that now. From the NY Times:

BAGHDAD, Oct. 14 — A rural Shiite town northwest of here exploded in sectarian reprisals on Saturday as angry residents, many roving the streets in armed packs on the backs of pickup trucks, killed at least 26 people from a nearby Sunni village, provincial authorities said.

The killings in the town of Balad , about 50 miles from Baghdad, were in response to the slaughter of 14 Shiite construction workers whose beheaded bodies were found Friday in an orchard in Dhuluiya, a Sunni town, said Hamad al-Qaisi, governor of Salahuddin Province, which includes both towns.

The workers had gone to Dhuluiya on Thursday to help rebuild houses and were on their way back when they were kidnapped by Sunni militiamen, said another government official from Salahedin who spoke on condition of anonymity.

When their corpses were eventually brought back to Balad, angry mobs gathered in the streets clamoring for revenge, Mr. al-Qaisi said.

Armed residents set up a checkpoint inside Balad’s central market area, where many people from Dhuluiya come to shop, he said, as well as one on the road between the two towns.

At least 26 bullet-riddled bodies, all believed to be Sunni residents of Dhuluiya, were found around Balad on Saturday, he said.

We're seeing the standard pattern of an ethnic civil war. The difference is that since the US troops are there, things have to be done when they're not looking, or before they can react. When the US troops pull out of an area, this is what happens, one group butchers another. Since the Sunnis are a minority and have Shiite blood on their hands from the Hussein regime, they're in hot water. When the US troops pull out (if ever) I think we might see a Rwanda type situation in Iraq, with massive numbers of people being butchered.

Do Gooders!

2006-10-15T19:08:00.000-05:00

Human Rights Group Tries to Halt Madonna's Adoption. Can you believe this shit? I don't know Madonna personally, and whether or not she'll be a great mother. But the kid currently doesn't even have one, and lives in Malawi, where people are starving to death. I think it's safe to say the kid will be WAY better off getting adopted by Madonna. What do these people think she's going to do? Torture and kill the kid for a snuff music video? You've got to be kidding me. Doesn't this human rights group have other things to worry about, like the famine over there? As far as I'm concerned, let her take a whole truckload of the little orphans, she can certainly afford them. They should let rich celebrities just order kids online, point and click. Why the hell not?

The Coolness of Google

2006-10-14T17:04:00.000-05:00

I'm going to admit that google is a company that I have a bit of a crush on. We have an emotional connection. For instance, when I saw that they had started Google Maps, my mind started racing with all the great features it could have (and the features of cool mapping technology in general). I always thought it would be a great idea to put this sort of thing together with transportation in innovative ways. Like being able to always know where the nearest cab is. And wah la! Google had the same idea! They also seem to be implementing the biggest feature missing from Google Maps or the other mapping services, which is directions for public transportation. They'd better add Chicago quick (Eugene, Oregon? Who cares?) so I will no longer have to use the crappy CTA site. Google Maps can even be used to keep track of crime in Chicago and find places to drink. There should be a site correlating those two sets of data.

Lately Google Reader has also convenienced my life, and as always I spend at least two hours a day refreshing Google News. I can placate my mother's constant demands for information on my schedule by putting it on Google Calendar. And of course, blogger itself is owned by Google!

What's so great about Google? They get it. So much software is either targeted towards the mainstream in the sense that it sucks, doesn't have any good features, and is all part of some corporate plan to fuck you over (often via spyware). Other software is made by nerds for nerds, and can be annoying as hell to try and use. I'm sort of in the middle range between complete moron computer user and elite nerd type, so Google is just about perfect for me. That's not to say they have no appeal to the extremely advanced computer user or the dumb one, the appeal is there for them too. The dumb user probably doesn't appreciate their genius, though.

Google manages to give me the features I love at no cost, while at the same time making money at it. Their basic bussiness model is to give software away for free. How great is that? Their ads are unobtrusive, I mostly don't notice them except occasionally when they're actually helpful. This is why I prefer Google to Yahoo, which tends to beat you over the head with large advertisements. That is like, so 20th century.

My one lingering worry about Google is the issue of privacy. I think this is something Google will have to address down the road. There will either be some hacking scandal where someone gets a lot of information, a government subpoena of some sort, or Google itself will be caught doing something creepy with all their data.

Anyway, thank you Google, for making yourselves rich by enriching my life. It's a win win, baby.

Return to the Blogosphere

2006-10-14T16:35:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted on here in a long time, so I figured I'd start again with this nifty Firefox extension. I've been watching a lot of films without reviewing them, so maybe I'll think back on what I've seen and crank out a view. I've also decided to do some more linking and commenting on interesting news stories, such as this one about Indian untouchables converting to Buddhism.

It brings to mind the comments of a friend of mine, Andy. He works at a company with a lot of engineers from India and Pakistan, who get along swimmingly, even though their two countries constantly forment hatred against eachother and threaten to reduce millions to radioactive ash. The explanation for it that he saw was that the Indians and Pakistanis who come to the United States are the better educated, more affluent ones, not the "rednecks" who would see a Pakistani, for instance, and get all hot and bothered. I think it's also because they live in the United States, and probably have far more in common with eachother then with your average American. This led me to think about how this might relate to the United States. There's constant fretting about how bad our image is overseas. Is it because of the more democratic, egalitarian nature of our society? Not that there aren't large differences in wealth in the United States, but wealthy Americans don't have some high class ideal to aspire to, they tend to want to be more "down to earth" and like everyone else. At least, it seems that way to me. So perhaps we have less of a good mannered aristocracy showing our face to the world? I suspect our superpower status and militarism has a lot more to do with it, but who knows?

Movie Review: The Last King of Scotland

2006-10-14T06:14:00.000-05:00

"You must leave and tell the world of Amin. They will believe you because you are a white man."

Forest Whitaker plays Ugandan dictator Idi Amin in this film, which has been hyped as an Oscar heavyweight and a defining performance for Forest Whitaker. Whitaker's performance is powerful, but it's effect is diluted by this one simple fact: Whitaker's Amin is not the main character.

The main character is a naive young doctor played... I'll say capably by James McAvoy. I'm not sure who is at fault for the deadly boring nature of his character, whether it be him, the director, or the writer, but someone certainly is behind it. Apparently the doctor is a composite of several people from the book. Perhaps that is the trouble, that this character is a Frankenstein who can only shuffle, moan, and have hot sex with women in Africa.

The doctor randomly picks a country which to visit by spinning a globe and smacking his finger on it, and settles on Uganda. Poor fucking choice, though not as poor as he probably deserves. He goes to a small white doctor's establishment out in the sticks and starts pitching in. He wants to change the world and have an adventure. He certainly has an adventure, as he ends up trading his "Scotland" t-shirt for Amin's uniform.

Whitaker's depiction of Amin is incredible. He simply dissapears in to the character completely. He's incredibly charming, even going in to the film knowing he's a genocidal dictator, you'll find yourself laughing and grinning along with him in the film's opening act. The young doctor is charmed, and Amin convinces him to become his personal doctor and "valued adviser".

This is where the movie runs in to problems for me. The plot chains along a series of revelations about the nature of Amin for the doctor. He begins by believing he's a hero trying to cast off white imperialism, and ends up realizing he's a genocidal madman. The trouble is, I know that already, along with every single other character in the movie. There is no suspense, no anticipation, and I didn't care enough about the doctor to especially worry about his fate. The doctor is either a sympathetic and naive, or a fool who is aiding a mass murderer and causing the deaths of others. The script can't seem to decide either way, constantly skirting the issue. One of the film's weakest scenes, where the genocide of Amin's regime is revealed, should have been one if its most powerful. I'm not sure why, perhaps for some of the reasons previously stated, or it's matter of fact presentation. I'll have to mull over this.

This is a mess of a review, but I think this is a mess of a film. However, it is still a film worth seeing. Why? Because every scene with Whitaker as Amin is complete gold. Unfortunately, I might say tragically, having the doctor character on the recieving end of these scenes drags them down. A lot. Some of the camera work is also brilliant, and it shines the most in, you guessed it, Whitaker's scenes. There is a sense of Amin's character having such deep, dark depths. What's down there can even be guessed at: rage, lust for power, paranoia, narcissm and madness. The film only seems to skim the surface of it. Perhaps Whitaker will do another film as Amin. I think that would be fantastic. His days in exile, perhaps?

I think this is a film I will watch again, and perhaps post about again. It's baffling, reducing my usual informative, insightful reviewing style to a horrible jumble of confused thoughts.

The New United States of America

2006-10-13T21:06:00.000-05:00

Remember in school, when you learned about our great American system of government? Checks and balances, the number of guys in Congress and the Senate, seperation of powers, bills, supreme court rulings, that sort of thing? Well, toss that out the window, because with the Bush administration everything you knew has become completely irrelevant.

Now, I'm not just going to blame Bush. Loss of civil liberties and increasing executive powers have been a trend in this country since, well, the 1780's. But things have taken a really bad turn. It all started with the Patriot Act, which severely eroded civil liberties in this country. Then, Habeus Corpus was suspended. Not only that, but the President has a consistent strategy to increase executive power using "signing statements" (link via Crash Landing).

Basically, here's the summary of what the Bush administration has accomplished, if not legally, de facto. The President can declare anyone he wants an enemy combatant. This allows government agencies to use all kinds of surveillance against you without a warrant (or a warrant from a special, secret court, which isn't worth shit in my opinion). Even worse, they can snatch you, ship you off to their network of gulags foreign countries, and hold you indefinetly without charge, during which time they can torture you in violation of the Geneva Conventions (US law won't apply because they'll take you outside US borders). "Evidence" gathered through this torture can be used against you.

OK, this is all bad, but I trust my local congressmen and senator (translation: I'm a complete moron) and his colleagues to make a lot of noise about this and pass a law banning or restricting this behavior. That'll put a stop to it, right? Wrong. Even if the bill is passed in to law, El Presidente will just tack on a little "signing statement" that says he will completely ignore the law. Check out this fantastic quote from the FFF article:

Apparently, the government is no longer obliged to obey any law that Bush does not personally approve. At a June congressional hearing, Sen. Ted Kennedy (D-Mass.) asked Justice Department lawyer Michelle Boardman for a list of all the laws that Bush has declared will no longer be enforced. Boardman replied, “I cannot give you that list.”

It's all an incredible joke. Reminds one of Terry Gilliam's film Brazil. Unfortunately it's not so darkly funny if you're a character in the movie. And that is what we've all become. All of this is justified by neo-conservatives and other scum with the logic that it will only be used against the "bad guys". That our constitutional protections are, in some sense, outmoded and are standing in the way of fighting the nebulous "war on terrorism". Defenders of the Bush administration believe that no one in a position of political power can ever do any wrong. Do you?

Movie Review: Slaughter Hotel (La Bestia Uccide a Sangue Freddo)

2006-08-28T16:32:00.000-05:00

This movie opens with a shot of a (sort of) Gothic looking mansion. Then the camera is turned sideways by the cameraman to the side, so the house is, well, on its side. Then, a masked man in black, groaning all creepy like, enters the mansion.

He goes to an upstairs room which is, of course, filled with medieval torture devices, axes, and swords. I understand this is standard practice at high priced mental clinics exclusively for hot young women. It was the seventies, folks.

After carefully considering the options, he selects a particularly fine axe. Climbing a stairway, he hefts the axe, getting a feeling for it in a series of quick, repetitive jump cuts. He enters the room of a young woman, who has the door cracked open as she sleeps in her nightgown. Now, in an ingenious sequence, we enter the mind of the killer. Cut, and the top is gone, and the camera zooms in on her tits. Another cut, and she's fully nude. The camera sort of dithers around, moving up and down her body and finally zooming in on her pubis. The woman sleepily pushes a call button on a bedstand, the killer goes “Yaargh!” and runs away.

Run the opening credits, where we begin to understand the character of this unique mental instution. Klaus Kinski has a terrible haircut. Hot female patients and matronly nurses play croquet. Another hot female patient sits around smoking and staring off in to space, a look I call “insanely hot”.

It only gets better from here. And by better I mean worse, but with lots of naked women, which eases the agony of bad cinema. There's a nymphomaniac who wants to have sex with her brother like old times but will settle for the gardener, hot African agoraphobe on nurse lesbian action, a woman susceptible to sudden violent rages, and another who's fallen in love with her doctor, Klaus Kinski. Who wouldn't, he's the sexiest man alive! Especially with that haircut.

After lots of women get murdered, the killer's identity is revealed, and he dies in an incredibly operatic sequence. If you want to see a bad seventies horror film, I guess this is a good choice. It's full of nudity, but gore fans will be disappointed as the violence is all suggested, and very badly to boot. Klaus Kinski is hardly used to his potential, he needs far more screen time and far better lines. This isn't a very good film for Kinski fans for this reason, though he gives a shockingly nuanced performanced in such an incredibly stupid role.

The DVD has a great interview with the Italian director, where he explains that the film is not very good, reveals which actress he considered the hottest, and praises Kinski. All in all, it's good for a laugh and a look at naked chicks, and not much more.

Movie Review: SNAKES ON A MOTHERFUCKING PLANE!

2006-08-19T00:05:00.000-05:00

Woh! Just got back from SOAP here in Montreal. It was a fun experience. It's difficult to review such a film as this, as the images themselves are dwarfed by the hype and general atmosphere surrounding them. This is a film thats all about the audience interacting with it. Take this showing: a group of SOAP enthusiasts brought plastic snakes and tossed them on unsuspecting theatregoers sitting below them. It was awesome. No matter what you think of the film, you're going to have fun as long as you're with a decent crowd who are in on the joke.

As for the film itself, it starts out great but the climactic sequence just doesn't live up to my expectations. This is what might be keeping it from being a cult classic. It delivered some fun goofy moments, but they should have had the best joke at the end. Instead, the snakes, who have been the implacable foe for the entire film, are eliminated in a completely anticlimactic way, and it turns in to a "can we land the plane?!?" thing which is totally boring. It is spiced up by one excellent Samuel L. Jackson line which will go down as a semi-classic, though obviously not up there with THE LINE (you know what I'm talking about). When he said that, the entire theater went wild. Everyone basically went wild at every Samuel L. Jackson scene in the film, especially ones where he was being macho and kicking ass. See? I'm talking more about the audience than the movie. That's what this thing is about: you people out there! So bring some friends and some plastic snakes, and live it up!

The Other Invisible International Site!

2006-07-31T21:37:00.000-05:00

On a whimsy I googled the blog's title, and got another site as the second result (this one is the first!!!).

Check it.

What is the “Invisible International”?

A dream?

An utopian novel?

A computer game?

A revolutionary flying object?

A vision of a practical Utopia?

An occult conspiracy?

A vast network?

A planetary project?

A possible future?

It's teh anarky, dawg.

Movie Review: Hard Candy

2006-07-23T18:49:00.000-05:00

Hard Candy

Every so often a film comes along that tackles an important social issue in a new or important way. This is not one of those films. Every so often a film comes along that subverts taboos or social norms in a shockingly enjoyable manner. This is not one of those films either. And every so often a shitty movie comes along that is ludicrously overhyped as being challenging and meaningful. Hard Candy is one of those films.

I watched the movie, and I'm not sure exactly what the point of it was. Did it bring a fresh look at pedophilia, or even vigilantism? Not that I could tell. Was it shocking? Not in the least. Suspenseful maybe? If your idea of suspense is trite attempts at plot twists that can be seen coming five miles away and apply to characters that the audience is never given any reason to care about, then I guess it might be considered suspenseful. Overall, it was a poorly written, poorly acted, boring mess. To begin with, I'm not given any reason whatsoever to care one bit about any of these characters, and the movie doesn't spend time on minor details like characterization or giving the characters any sense of life or reality. The "characters" are nothing more than cardboard cutouts stiffly pushed around the screen and forced to mouth reams of inane dialogue that sounds as though it was intentionally written to be as artificial as possible. The lackluster approach to writing was only rendered worse by the performances that I can only describe as lazy. Patrick Wilson has isolated moments of believability, but cancels them out with extreme overacting in places that should be played subtle and totally wooden acting in moments that call for being nearly maniacal. His co-star, Ellen Page, was terrible almost beyond imagination; her performance was rife with incompetent delivery and a general inattention to craft. The character is supposedly drunk but suddenly delivers lines more clearly than when she was supposedly sober? The direction doesn't shoot itself in the foot during the parts that require no more talent than merely holding the camera still, but the moment that any sort of creativity is required, it immediately becomes uttery awful.

This is a film that I can only recommend to cinematic masochists; for everyone else, stay away: Hard Candy is soft shit. 1/10

Your Guide To: Fargo, North Dakota!

2006-07-04T22:28:00.000-05:00

Fargo. Most people know it only via the film. But I've been there on several occasions! My parents have a place they recently bought in Battle Lake, Minnesota, and Hector International Airport is the closest airport.

Hector International Airport is a unique experience. I'm going to detail everything there, don't worry, it won't take long. Coming to mind first is The Restaurant, The Barnstormer. They feature small portions of mediocre food. It's a good place, because I haven't seen it fall below mediocre in to "fucking terrible" as it often does in North Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, which I have passed through many a time. Most recently there, I ordered a "Hot Reuben Sandwich" which was described as a "Reuben with swiss cheese, on Jewish rye bread". Now, I have a question. What the fuck is "Jewish" rye bread? And if it exists, why is it in North Dakota?

There are four gates in Hector International Airport, with ample seating. The worst shit in airports is when you have to wait around for like five hours and either stand, or swallow your pride and sit down on the floor with your luggage like some goddamn refugee. There are two "First Class Seating" massage chairs near Gate 4. It's $1 for a 3 minute massage. Decided to try it out on this recent flight, but the dollar bill I had was wet, so it wouldn't accept it. I dried it out, but then some fucking Norwegian floozies were sitting on them yapping away in their Northern dialect. The best feature of Hector International Aiport is free wireless internet. The worst is the security. Now, my complaint isn't the time spent getting through the line. It's always faster than any major airport. Thing is, there are like nine security people, and they're strict. It's rather awkward to go on through and then have to get a special scan, with nine federal employees standing looking at you with no one else in the damn airport. Embarrasing for you, embarassing for them, I doubt the jihad types even know where Fargo is. Hell, I doubt they know where Minnesota is.

Near the airport, there's some mysterious thing called the Pepsi Soccer Complex. A soccer complex in the US? Lies. It's some kind of secret military training facility.

There's lots of shopping in Fargo, people come from miles around I guess. In these places in the middle of nowhere, big chain stores like Office Depot or Best Buy are absolutely fucking massive. They're as large as airplane hangars and have five times their surface area in parking spaces. There's also a pretty large mall. It's most notable feature is this little Roger Maris display ("museum") with a uniform, some autographed balls (including, if I recall, the legendary home run ball), biographical information (bemoaning the media's mistreatment of Maris), that kind of stuff. Kind of cool, actually, but its weird to have it in a mall. But hell, the Hartford Whalers played in a mall, why not have Roger Maris shit in one?

Well, umm, that's all I've got. To be honest, I haven't done much more than drive through the place several times. I hear there's a playhouse and an art house movie theater there, outposts of culture on the moonlike, Viking occupied surface of North Dakota. Perhaps I will go there sometime, and I'll be sure to tell you, my non-existent reader, all about it.

The World Cup

2006-06-17T23:36:00.000-05:00

I hate to say it, but I think I'm becoming a football (as in soccer) fan. I watched today's World Cup match between USA and Italy, and was screaming at the television like a maniac, which I usually only do during White Sox games. I've watched soccer games before and found them boring, but today, something just clicked for me. I was even heckling the Italians, calling them a bunch of pussy faggots (for falling over on purpose to draw fouls). Now I know why this game starts wars. It was a thrilling match, marred by horrible officiating, which worked me up even more. The game ended in a 1-1 tie, which was an accomplishment for a US team facing a soccer powerhouse in Italy.

RIP, Abu

2006-06-09T15:07:00.000-05:00

Having been cut off from the internet and television as well, I found out just now that everyone's second favorite psychopathic terrorist, Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, is dead.

Abu wasn't a refined individual, and not particularly friendly. He hated Americans and Shiites, and he was interested in one thing: shockingly high body counts. He didn't particularly care who got killed, perhaps his most heinous act was an attack on a school bus full of Iraqi children. But he'll probably be best remembered for his mediapathic beheadings, which, in a brilliant move, he released on the internet. He wasn't the first to do this sort of thing, the Chechens and others have been at for a good while. But Zarqawi gained the most notoriety, showing the way for all future terrorists of the information age.

Really, Zarqawi is a bit of a tragic figure. He was a man created and destroyed by the US, only gaining fame and props from Bin Laden after having his named dropped by the US government. He and the US had a bit of a back scratching relationship. Zarqawi was the perfect symbol of the resistance for the US, a foreigner who was obviously a bloodthirsty psychotic seeking to forment civil war, not a nationalistic "freedom fighter" by any stretch of the imagination. In return, Zarqawi gained fame and admiration among the other Islamic crazies out there, and got more money and recruits for his terrorist strikes. It ultimately backfired on him, however, when two laser guided 500 pound bombs sent him off to Allah. Someone in his "inner cricle" betrayed him- and some speculate that he was given up by Al Qaeda itself, seeking to distance themselves from his crazyness. However I doubt this, as the people that make up Al Qaeda are some of the craziest fuckers on the planet, and I don't think many of them have public relations degrees.

Abu would have turned 40 in October. He is survived by nobody, but will be fondly remembered by everyone back in his hometown in Jordan. I can imagine them now, smoking hookahs and listening to Koran verses, smiling and wistfully saying, "'Ol Abu could kill Shiite kindergartners like nobody else!"

Here in the States, everyone is going to be happy that Zarqawi, who has been built up as the cause of all the evil in the world, got bagged. Some will even imagine that this will end the Iraq insurgency. They'll be wrong of course.

We'll probably never know who Zarqawi really was. Was he interested in fame? Sexually frustrated? Did Shiites kill his goldfish? All that's left of Abu, other than his rotting corpse, is the symbol that he became.

Two French Movie Reviews: "L'Armée des ombres" and "Banlieue 13"

2006-06-06T17:24:00.000-05:00

"L'Armée des ombres" (Army of Shadows)

Adapted from a novel on the French Resistance by the great director Jean Pierre Melville, this movie is a masterpiece. It focuses on several members of the Resistance as they go about their secret business. They are all under constant threat of torture and death at the hands of the Nazis. If Hollywood had made this movie, it would have been a sensationalistic thriller, but Melville's style smothers and forces down what would otherwise be heart pounding suspense. The result is a movie where you can uneasily relax, but leaves you with a more lasting sense of terror. In this way it reminds me of another French film, Cache.

All the performances are brilliant. This is what I assume to be an all star cast, though I have very little knowledge of French actors. The characters are in a hopeless struggle with little reward. If captured, they're shut away in military prisons and tortured, and often executed namelessly, so that no one will ever even know of their heroism. The cinematography is brilliantly expressionistic. As I said, this movie is a masterpiece. The less you know the better, just take a seat and enjoy.

"Banlieue 13" (District B-13)

Banlieue 13 is a French action film set in a housing project (a Banlieue). In the near future of 2010, the projects have been completely walled off. No one can apparently go in or out, though how everybody feeds themselves and gets stuff is unclear. Horribly, social services to the projects are being cut off. The schools and libraries have closed, and in the beginning of the film we see the police force make their final departure. The movie has its share of wry satire, which the French are apparently good at, though it at some points the preaching gets laid on a little thick.

The two main characters are an idealistic hero of the streets played by parkour celebrity David Belle, and a super cop played by Cyril Raffaelli, a martial artist. Both are fun and exciting to watch. The action scenes are very well choreographed, especially a scene involving Raffaelli shutting down an illegal gambling operation, which involves jumping all over the fucking place and singlehandedly killing 40 people.

This movie is a lot of fun, and I think will go down as a great action flick. It's playing at a few theaters around the country, and will probably be on DVD soon. If you like action films, this is one to see.

Movie Review: Hated: GG Allin and The Murder Junkies

2006-05-29T00:02:00.000-05:00

The footage in this documentary is completely insane, and not for the faint of heart. If the picture above was too much for you (and take in to account I cut out the lower half, which includes his penis), stay away. There's lots of insane shock rocker GG Allin, covered in his own blood and shit, attacking people and in one scene licking a butt plug he just pulled out of his ass.

Who was GG Allin? Well, here's the wikipedia article. An interesting man, to say the least. He was a punk rocker with truly horrible music, which wasn't the point so much as the shows he performed. This isn't a particularly well done documentary, but the footage in it is fascinating. This download of it also includes an hour of footage from one of his infamous shows. He goes crazy as usual, throwing his own shit in to ceiling fans, spraying it everywhere. When the venue owners shut down the show, he completely flips out and singlehandedly starts a riot. Not your typical rock show!

I wish the man was still alive to day (he threatened to kill himself on stage, but just ended up ODing). I'd be eager to see him. Perhaps someone else can carry on his legacy of complete madness on stage, but I doubt it. I know I'm not up to it.

Movie Review: X3 The Last Stand

2006-05-28T21:17:00.000-05:00

This movie has made me a new special friend, and his name is Brett Ratner. He's a talentless, inept piece of shit. I'm not absolutely sure this movie is all his fault, but he's the only credited non-actor on IMDB. Also, directors always get all the credit when a movie goes well, and you know what the other side of that is? Their goddamn necks are on the chopping block when it stinks.

You know what this movie is? It's like constructing the body of what a movie should be, except it lacks heart, brains, bloodflow, and genitalia. It's not a living thing, it's a corpse. All it can do is jerk around like some manic meat puppet with Brett Ratner's hand up its ass, while he winks at you with a shit eating grin on his face, hastily grabbing money off the floor while promising to jerk off on your face later with his new film Rush Hour 3. Fuck you, Brett Ratner. You're a talentless hack.

You ever seen that show "Bones"? There's some smart FBI agent on there that can look at a skeleton, and figure out the dead victim was a 30 year old lesbian skydiver. That's what watching this movie was for me. As previously mentioned, it was definetly a corpse. Not to flatter myself overmuch, but just imagine I'm that chick, except for movies. I'm looking at the film reel of X3, out in some moody forest in the Pacific Northwest, freshly uncovered in the dirt on a wet Tuesday morning. Yawning, I examine it slowly, and I can easily extrapolate the heinous crimes of poor writing and incompetent directing repeated over and over again on the victim. I shudder in horror, but I know I've seen this before. This victim was moved from Hollywood.

Ahem. On to the "review". As if there was anything to review. Nothing actually seems to happen in this movie. But as Wolverine tells Cyclops in another poorly written scene in X3: it's time to move on.

This review contains spoilers, in case anyone cares. Trust me, I'm not ruining anything for you. The basic plot is that a "cure" has been found for mutancy by extracting some kind of DNA / Serum / Whatever from a young boy by the name of Leech (played by Cameron Bright, who's the wide eyed kid in every goddamn movie this year). That sets the stage for conflict, as Magneto's faction can not accept the concept of a "cure" for mutancy, and see it as the proposed final solution for the humans to wipe out mutants completely. The X Men, led by Xavier, take the moderate line, insisting everyone can live in peace blah blah blah.

Lots of characters are introduced, most of them with no attempt at explanatory backstory. There's not much character development in this movie. In an incredibly poorly written scene, Magneto reads off the names and powers off a few baddies before he releases them, and they automatically dutifully join him. Where there is an attempt at backstory, as with Angel, it's poorly done. Angel is a self hating mutant, alienated from his father who can not accept who he is. This could have some of the emotional force it had in the earlier films, but here it fails miserably. Even worse, characters from the previous films are killed, without any of the emotional drama that should come with that. The death of Cyclops is the most poorly written scene I've seen in a really long while. Jean Grey pops out of the ocean, and Cyclops is happy to see his girlfriend back. Then she kisses him, and he dies. I am not shitting you. They actually put this in a movie.

Sure, there are some action scenes, but since you don't really give a shit it just seems the characters are going through the motions. The viewers only refuge is to root on Magneto, the only guy in the movie who is interesting, and actually does anything cool. As Magneto is supposed to be the badguy, this is a bit of a fuckup on the part of the writers.

There are other missteps in terms of editing and narrative flow. But to sum it up, this is a movie in which you will see some pretty pictures that will make you feel absolutely nothing. Don't waste your time or money.

I'd like to say one good thing in this review. Ian McKellen is a professional, and does a great job in this movie. I can only imagine he wanted to kill that douchebag Ratner. If you'd like to see his performance, download the film. Please don't give the assholes behind this movie any money.

Book Review: Battle Royale

2006-05-21T14:17:00.000-05:00

Battle Royale by Koushun Takami

Some months ago my colleague, Charno, reviewed the movie version of Battle Royale. Now, I shall review the controversial novel on which the movie is based. The premise of both the novel and movie is that there is an alternate Japan (called the Republic of Greater East Asia in the book), which is a heavily authoritation state (one of the characters in the book calls it "successful fascism"). One of the unusual features of this state is that it annually selects one third year junior high school class at random for the "Program". The students in the class are taken to a secluded area (an island, a fenced in mountain, etc) and forced to kill each other until only one is left standing. Nothing is against the rules except for removing the collars that allow the military to track student's movements (attempting to remove the collar results in immediate death). If any 24 hour period passes without at least one student dying, then all the collars are detonated. To further force the students to move around and fight, parts of the fighting area become "forbidden zones", and any student in a forbidden zone is immediately killed by way of the collar.
The novel itself concerns one particular class choosen for the Program and what happens to them during the battle. I don't want to give too much away about the plot of the book (it has some twists I'd rather not spoil), instead focusing on the technical aspects of the book. However, I will say that anyone who is a fan of the movie absolutely needs to read the book, there's a lot of very interesting details that were left out on the big screen adaptation.
Anyway, this is author Koushun Takami's first novel, and it is surprisingly well-written for being a first novel. The style is very idiosyncratic and casual, and goes between long monologueish memories and quick action that often switches between different character's points of view with little warning. It is a style that takes some getting used to, but once you're into it, you won't be confused about who is talking, thinking, or doing what. Given that there are forty-two students in the class, one of the primary challenges for the author has to be making each one different. Koushun Takami manages to do this and even make it seem easy. Some characters stand out more than others based on how much page time they get, but each one feels like a real person, a unique individual with a history. A lot of controversy centers around how violent the book is, and I must say it is more violent than the movie adaptation , but Koushun Takami does a very good job of refusing to let the novel become a simple piece of pulp exploitation. He has a real story to tell, and nothing is going to compromise his telling of the story. This book is, I believe, a literary and artistic triumph.
That said, it is not without its flaws. I felt the ending could have been handled more realistically than it was and a few of the characters weren't given enough of a backstory to explain their eccentricities adequately. I also found some of the pedantic attention to detail to detract from the story. It wasn't necessary to give the student's sex and number whenever they make their first appearance in the scene. As far as the prominent characters go, after they've been mentioned a few times, we know who they are. Other than these few things, the novel is absolutely brilliant.
I must also make a few comments about the translation (carried out by Yuji Oniki). Overall, it was competent. I can't remember anything in the book that made me scratch my head trying to figure out what it meant. However, there were a few flaws, particularly in using the wrong verb tense ("mean" where "meant" was needed, for example), however most readers either won't catch these mistakes or will be able to figure out what is meant. The translation has a few problems, but it is passable for a first translation of the work, but I would like to see a revised translation in the future.
I cannot recommend this book highly enough, everyone should read it.

Movie Review: The Proposition

2006-05-20T17:13:00.000-05:00

The Proposition is a Western not set in the American West, but in the Australian outback. Instead of Indians we have Aborigines, and rather than an American Sheriff the lawman is a British military captain. Despite this, the Western themes are familiar, though they are presented here with an unflinching brutality. This is a Clint Eastwood Western, not a John Wayne.

Ray Winstone is the captain, determined to bring law and order. "I will civilize this land," he proclaims. His biggest problems are the Burns brothers and their gang, who just commited an outrageous crime, killing a husband and his pregnant wife. The captain is a man doggedly continuing, hanging on to what remains of his strength by sheer will. He looks like he might simply fall over at any moment. The performance by Ray Winstone is incredible. There's also a great scene with a flamboyant bounty hunter played by John Hurt, who is obviously mad but plays at the civilized English gentleman smug in his own superiority. "What is an Irishman but a nigger turned inside out?"

There are three Burns brothers. The oldest, Arthur, is a psychotic, brutal misanthrope and the leader of the gang. The middle son, Charlie, is certainly a killer but isn't as unhinged as his older brother. He feels guilt and shame over his brother's evil acts, which he is powerless to stop. The youngest brother Richard is a childlike innocent, who seems to just follow along with his brothers.

The younger two brothers are captured by the Cap'n, and after knocking around young Richard a bit, he lays things out for Charlie: I'm going to hang your younger brother on Christmas. I'll let you both go if you kill your older brother. Not having much of a choice, Charlie agrees, still obviously undecided as to what he will do.

I already mentioned Winstones performance, but he isn't the only gem in a great cast. Guy Pearce doesn't say much but he doesn't need to, he absolutely looks the part. Dirty and gaunt, all he needs to do is look around at the madness and savagery around him, and the point is made. Danny Huston plays the oldest Burns brother in an impressive performance, which is difficult for me to explain. He's crazy, but in a quiet, brooding way while also being remarkably human. He commits atrocities with a kind of sad determination, drowning his own loneliness in blood.

The cinematography in this film is very well done. There's a clever shot involving the Captain's wife in a bathtub (no, it isn't anything dirty) and the savage Australian outback is beautifully captured. The sets and the characters look very authentic, and the special effects (which involve violent death) are very well done. I found the scenes with the Aboriginals especially interesting. Several of them are captured as prisoners, and when asked about Arthur Burns, their response is remarkable. If these guys wanted to, they could make a brilliant gore film. Indeed, this film has some elements of horror. It's about the fundamental cruelty of the hellish Australian wilderness, or perhaps the world in general. In the film, there is not law and order against savagery and evil, there is simply more cruelty or less.

I've said a lot of good things about this film, but that aside this movie still has some flaws. The backstory is not properly explained, some of the editing seems wrong (especially towards the end), and a lot of dramatic tension was lost. I think the filmmakers depended a bit too heavily on the shock value of brutal, graphic violence, but having seen films like Ichi the Killer, I was unmoved. Despite the flaws, this is a movie worth seeing, and one that I'm eager to watch again. Highly reccomended.

Movie Review: Thriller - En Grym Film

2006-05-18T18:04:00.000-05:00

Thriller - En Grym Film

This movie is a formerly unknown gem of exploitation made in Sweden in 1974. It achieved some degree of notoriety after it was confirmed that Quentin Tarantino drew heavily on Thriller - En Grym Film for certain aspects of his film, Kill Bill, particularly the look of Elle Driver. The plot of this movie is rather simple. Madeleine (played by Christina Lindberg) is raped at the age of five; an incident that leaves her totally mute. Later, when she is twenty, she is forcibly addicted to heroin and forced to become a prostitute for Tony (played by Heinz Hopf). Aftering suffering humiliations from the customers and from Tony, she begins to take fighting, shooting, and driving classes. Then, she proceeds on one of the most cold-bloodedly ruthless revenge rampages ever caught on film. A simple exploitation plot that doesn't wait time explaining events late in the movie. Yet, I cannot shake the feeling that this is no mere exploitation movie. It seems to have a real message to it, and to be more than just a long montage of sex and violence. I daresay that the movie is something of a feminist tract. The males in this movie are all portrayed as either leering, dangerous sex fiends or impotent creatures who are either temporarily useful for Madeleine or lifeless obstacles for her to dispose of. The movie also makes heavy use of symbolism to drive home this point (in one simple but effective piece of editing, the needle dripping heroin cuts to the ejaculating penis of one of Madeleine's hated customers, and in another brilliant stroke, one of the men who is temporarily useful to her stuffs her wad of cash down his crotch with the obvious implication that he has enough room left over to fit such a large stack of cash). Once Madeleine's rampage begins, everyone is either a target for her wrath or collateral damage that has no significance to her. I would explicate further on the nuances of this interpretation, but I don't want to spoil too much of the movie and I must make mention of the technical qualities of the film. The film score is one of the most minimalistic of any film I've ever seen, but when the music does crop up, it is simple and effective. The acting is fairly wooden, although Heinz Hopf does a good job with his role. The camera work ranges from porn-level competence to brutally effective (many shots are done from Madeleine's point-of-view, which is great for emphasizing the sneering, leering perversion of her enemies). Slow motion is used very often for the sex and violence; sometimes to great effectiveness, but sometimes it becomes rather tedious. Overall, the entire movie oscillates between being somewhat tedious and brutally effective; fortunately, the latter parts of the movie outweigh the former. This is definitely worth at least one viewing, although I'm not sure how many people will come back for more than one look.
6.5-7/10

NHL Playoffs: Eastern Conference Finals

2006-05-17T00:46:00.000-05:00

Ottawa and New Jersey are out, and now it is time for the only two teams left in the Eastern Conference to play for their chance to compete for the Stanley Cup.

(2) Carolina Hurricanes vs. (4) Buffalo Sabres

These two teams are the most evenly matched opponents in the NHL. Both are absolutely built for the new NHL, emphasizing speed and goal-scoring backed by responsible defensive work, and both are coming off 5-game upset victories over their respective opponents in the semifinals. Here's the breakdown for them: they are essentially equals on the offensive end of things (Carolina scored 294 goals during the regular season vs. 281 for Buffalo), both are very deep and roll all four lines without hesitation, Carolina has a stronger and more experienced defensive corps, and Buffalo has the better goalie but less goaltending depth than Carolina. I will be incredibly surprised if this series ends in anything other than seven games. However, I think the edge (if there is one) belongs to the Hurricanes because of two factors. 1. They have more veteran leadership than the Sabres do and 2. they have home ice advantage. Many people will contest the second of those two factors, saying that Carolina having four games at home doesn't hurt Buffalo that much since Buffalo is a very good road team (25-13-3 during the regular season, 3rd in the NHL). However, I think Carolina does have a real home ice advantage because while Buffalo is a good road team, the Hurricanes are a better home team (31-8-2 during the regular season, 2nd in the NHL).
Prediction 1: Carolina beats Buffalo in seven intense games.
Prediction 2: Whoever wins this series wins the Stanley Cup.
Prediction 3: The coach who wins this series will win the coach of the year award.

An American Bittern in My Backyard

2006-05-14T16:32:00.000-05:00

During dinner, my father spotted a strange bird. We found our bird identification field guide, and eventually figured out it was an American Bittern.

First it landed in the backyard, as you can see. Then it hopped up on our fence, but it got frightened and went across the alley to our neighbor's chain link fence. Apparently it feels secure there. You can see in that last photo its hiding behavior, sticking its head straight up in the air to look like a reed. It doesnt work very well in suburbia.

Here's the best picture I took, very close up:

I frightened it a bit by getting so close, and it looked it was going to fly away. So I backed off and went inside.

Nobody tell the feds, they might declare our backyard a wetland.

I didn't get to see it fly around or anything, but here's a picture I found online. I think I might have actually spotted this bird a few months ago, walking home from the train station to my house. It was some fairly large bird, taking off with a piece of food in its mouth. I didn't really get a good look at it, but it was brown just like this bird is.

µTorrent

2006-05-13T17:21:00.000-05:00

This bit torrent client rocks. I heard all the hype that Azureus was the best (it's the most popular) and I figured it was good, being open source and all. However, it proved to suck ass, at least on my PC. It uses Java, which is incredibly slow and cranky.

In contrast, utorrent is a tiny program that doesnt suck up tons of resources, and it has all the features that Azurues has. If you're looking for a good bit torrent client, I highly recommend it.

SomaFM

2006-05-12T16:41:00.000-05:00

SomaFM

I don't know how many of our readers are already aware of SomaFM, but it is one of the best collections of internet radio stations I know of. Their Secret Agent and Illinois Street Lounge stations are both outstanding. I can leave them playing for hours and have a fun listening experience the whole time. Everyone should try at least one of the SomaFM stations; they cover a wide range of musical tastes.

NHL Playoffs: Eastern Conference Semifinals

2006-05-03T17:00:00.000-05:00

The Quarterfinals round is in the books in the East, so it's time to look at the matchups for Round 2.

(1) Ottawa Senators vs. (4) Buffalo Sabres
(2) Carolina Hurricanes vs. (3) New Jersey Devils

Ottawa vs. Buffalo

This is probably going to be a high-flying, goal-scoring series between two speedy teams built for the new NHL. However, the two teams emphasize different philosophies; the Senators are essentially a one-line team, but that one line packs more offensive punch than many other entire teams. The Sabres, on the other hand, play a game with their goal-scoring talent spread out over several lines, although they do not have as individually talented players as Ottawa. As is typically the case in the playoffs, success or failure depends on the players between the pipes. Both Ottawa and Buffalo will be playing rookie goalies for the series; Ray Emery for Ottawa, and Ryan Miller for Buffalo. Thus far in these playoffs, Emery has posted a 2.62 GAA and a .924 SV% in 5 games against Tampa Bay. Ryan Miller has put a 2.02 GAA and a .918 SV% in 6 games against Philadelphia. These numbers are all very close to one another, but I think Ryan Miller has shown that he isn't as likely to cave under the pressure of close games the way Emery sometimes does. Emery also has more problems with consistency than Miller, so the slight advantage in the net goes to Buffalo.
Prediction: Buffalo in 7

Carolina vs. New Jersey
Every Carolina fan worth his salt remembers 2001 when a series between the two teams (one that New Jersey was favored to sweep) went on for six vicious games, and included Devils' defenseman Scott Stevens giving concussions to Carolina players Shane Willis and Ron Francis, before the Devils eventual victory. And I'm sure every Carolina fan remembers in 2002 when the Hurricanes again faced the heavily favored New Jersey Devils in the first round and managed to stun the Devils in 6 games, closing out the series in New Jersey. It seems that every year these two teams both make the playoffs, they end up playing each other. To say that there is bad blood between these two is a world of understatement. Once again, the Devils come into this series as the favored team, as they are currently riding a 15 game winning streak (extending back into the regular season and including a first round playoff sweep of the New York Rangers). Carolina is just coming off an emotional six game series against the Montreal Canadiens, and will be coming into this series still without one of their best players, Erik Cole. This is going to be a heavily defensive series, as New Jersey emphasizes strong team defense to force turnovers, and Carolina (known for their fast-paced high-scoring game during the regular season) showed that they can tighten up and play defensively during the series with Montreal. In many ways, Montreal and New Jersey are similar opponents for the Hurricanes. Both rely heavily on one player for offensive production (Alexei Kovalev for Montreal and Patrick Elias for New Jersey) and stellaer goaltending (Cristobal Huet for Montreal and the implacable Martin Brodeur for New Jersey). Between the two, New Jersey is clearly the stronger team, mainly because Brodeur may very well be the best goaltender to ever play the game. In terms of offensive production, the Hurricanes have a clear cut advantage with five players (plus the injured Erik Cole) who had 20 or more goals during the regular season; New Jersey had two. However, scoring goals depends on being able to break through the defense and beat the goaltender, and New Jersey has the advantage of playing a much tighter defensive system than the Hurricanes do, although the 'Canes defensive corps is not to be underestimated. Look for Mike Commodore to especially log a lot of minutes for the 'Canes; his physical presence can often be the difference between a goal and just another shot. As always, the most important players on the ice will be the guys with the big pads, Martin Brodeur for the Devils, and (presumably) Cam Ward for the Hurricanes. Ward came in to replace Martin Gerber in the first period of Game 2 against Montreal after Gerber had given up nine goals in four periods of play. Ward then started for the rest of the series and won four straight games while posting a stingy 1.54 GAA and a .940 SV%. If Ward can continue that level of play in the series against New Jersey, it will give Carolina a chance to take the series. However, the absolute key to this series will be for Carolina to win early; if they lose both of the first two games and head onto New Jersey's home ice without a win, the Devils will be able to clamp down hard and prevent any sort of comeback like happened against Montreal. If the 'Canes can win one or both of Games 1 and 2 (which are in Raleigh), they will have a very good shot at beating the Devils, but it will not be easy.
Prediction: History repeats, Carolina wins it in 6

Bück Dich!

2006-05-02T01:34:00.000-05:00

Rammstein performing 'Bück Dich' live in Berlin

Movie Review: Silent Hill

2006-05-02T01:17:00.000-05:00

Silent Hill

As is my usual practice, let me start with the positives. At least it wasn't Hostel or High Tension. But this movie still sucks like a 10 cent whore on pay day. The plot is murky at best and seems determined to take a back seat to 'thrilling' visuals. Except there's one small problem. The movie is an absolute visual mess. The visuals that are apparently supposed to scare me or at least keep me interested are nothing new; simply boring monsters that I could top in about 5 minutes. I was yawning throughout the entire film. It was an overlong, poorly plotted, terribly acted, visually uninteresting waste of film. 2/10 and it only avoids a 1 because I did like it when people were getting shredded to pieces by lots and lots of barbed wire (even though barbed wire was way overused in the movie as a whole).

Movie Review: Hostel

2006-05-02T01:01:00.000-05:00

Hostel, or Eli Roth Is a Waste of Space

I'd like to start off this review by talking about the positives. Takashi Miike has a small speaking part. Also, the movie isn't High Tension.

Now, on to the negatives: everything else. The bastard responsible for this shitstain of a movie was given a 4.5 million dollar budget, and the only way I could stay awake during the movie was focusing on counting how many things in the movie were ripped off from far better movies. What an utterly boring waste of film. If there any potential filmmakers reading this, I'm going to tell you something important, and I'm only going to say it once, so pay attention: if you steal material from better movies and water it down for the dumb fuck conservative American audience, then you are a fucking waste of life and I hope you die with a 24 inch spiked dildo stuck up your ass. There is a very fine line between cutesy homage and outright rip-off, and Eli Roth goes full steam ahead for the latter. I can just imagine his orders to his crew. "OK, I want the rooms to look like the one from Flower of Flesh and Blood, steal from the same movie for the killers' costumes, and steal that cool shot from Suicide Club for the girl's death, but don't forget to cut it short, this movie is supposed to appeal to American teenagers who can't stomach real violence."

But even if we excuse how blatantly the movie ripped off others, it still fails as a movie. Far too much time is spent on plot build-up. What took them nearly half the movie to do, I could've covered in <30 seconds of expository dialogue. Then, just when you think the movie might get good, i.e. when they show people strapped to chairs with some torture implements nearby, Eli Roth decides to be a pussy and puts the violence off-screen, cutting away at the last second. What a wimp. What violence does get shown on screen is so predictable and standard it has no force whatsoever (omg, his fingers are cut off, better go run screaming from the theater). If you do a needlessly built-up eye violence scene that is only yawn-inducing for me, then you are a failure as a filmmaker and a human being, period.

The script for this movie was so laughably bad I don't know how anyone could take it seriously. Far too much beginning build-up, not enough actual violence, and then a set of increasingly improbable coincidences that make for an ending more unrealistic than a square-circle. I won't even go into the very basic errors about the various countries (hint: Dutch people speak... Dutch, not German. What fucking moronic filmmakers). The main characters were astoundingly poorly written, and chock full of grasping at straws attempts to make them somehow palatable. Then there's the ultra-lame blatant attempt at some sort of social relevance ("omg, Americans cost more to kill, cause... like.... other people don't like Americans, so they really wanna kill one"), that ends up just falling on its face and looking stupid.

The only thing that may have made this movie worth my time was the audience reaction (I saw it here at school, pretty packed theater). They found little spots of blood on a drill bit scream-worthy. But what was most interesting was the way they totally matched the wholly unsympathetic character on screen. When the Americans are being tortured and killed, it's all horrified screams and terror, but when the American turns the tables as it were, it's all cheering and screaming for more. That may be the only thing to recommend this movie, if you see it with a large crowd, you will realize that people will pay to see some death. But we all knew that anyway, so pointing out an obvious truth doesn't do nearly enough to save this trainwreck.

2/10, I've said it before about many movies, and I'm sure I'll say it again about other movies: give me their budget and I could make a fucking masterpiece.

Italy: Wimpiest Nation On Earth?

2006-04-27T14:33:00.000-05:00

Prodi Urged to Recall Troops After 3 Die in Iraq

ROME, April 27 — The roadside bomb that killed three Italian soldiers in Nassiriya, Iraq, today quickly caused problems for the government being formed by Romano Prodi.

"This tragedy hits all of Italy," the prime minister-designate said in a statement.

Politically, it refocused Italy's antipathy to the war, which is strong even as the outgoing prime minister Silvio Berlusconi slowly withdrew troops on duty in Iraq from a peak of 3,200, to about 2,600 now.

Some coalition partners of Mr. Prodi urged an immediate withdrawal of the remainder.

The deaths occurred when an international convoy carrying Italian and Romanian soldiers encountered the bomb in the southern city of Nassiriya; a Romanian was also killed. A fourth Italian was injured and transferred to an American hospital, where he was in serious condition.

The new deaths brought to 36 the total number of Italians, both military and civilian, who have lost their lives during the war in Iraq.

What happened to the Italians? Il Duce is rolling over in his grave.

Headline of the Week!

2006-04-26T12:15:00.000-05:00

Bush Taps Snow As New Press Secretary

Obviously, the hip hop generation hasn't taken over the news media.

Rapper Gets What He Deserves

2006-04-15T20:07:00.000-05:00

No charge of murder in death of Proof

Mario Etheridge, who allegedly killed hip-hop star and Eminem's best friend Proof in an 8 Mile club, was charged Friday with gun felonies but not with the slaying, as the Wayne County prosecutor urged those who may be looking for payback to lay down their guns while the homicide investigation continues.
"I am making a personal plea to the public to let the legal process take course," Wayne County Prosecutor Kym Worthy said in a prepared statement. "We do not want people taking the law into their own hands. The worst thing that could happen now would be to compound this situation by having more senseless deaths."
Quoting Gandhi, Worthy added: "An eye for an eye for an eye would make the whole world blind."
Etheridge, 28, was charged with carrying a concealed weapon, which carries a maximum 5-year prison term, and discharging a firearm inside an occupied building, punishable by a maximum 4-year term. He is scheduled to be arraigned today in Detroit's 36th District Court.
Etheridge's lawyer, Randall Upshaw, said the charge "is very, very ridiculous."
"If he discharged the weapon wrongfully and killed someone, charge him with a homicide or an assault," Upshaw said. "If he didn't discharge it wrongfully, don't charge him."
Police say Etheridge shot Proof, whose legal name is Deshaun Holton, early Tuesday morning at the CCC nightclub after Proof allegedly shot Keith Bender, 35, in a fight over a pool game. Proof, 32, was a best friend of Eminem and a member of the D12 rap group.
Michigan law allows anyone to use lethal force to protect himself or another person from a deadly attack.
Bender, who is Etheridge's cousin, remains hospitalized in critical condition.
Upshaw said Etheridge has "a clean record, no priors and no allegations of anything" and was licensed to legally purchase a handgun.
But as the charges indicate, the ability to buy a handgun does not make it legal to carry one in most circumstances. Although Michigan has greatly eased regulations, a permit is still generally needed to carry a handgun in public places.
Upshaw said the shootings have the potential to provoke retaliation.
"When people have friends, there is always a concern," he said. "Reputations are what they are and some people feel reputations are to live and die for. We have some concern that some people have pretty harsh reputations."
Maria Miller, a spokeswoman for the Wayne County Prosecutor's Office, said the case is not closed: "We're still conducting an investigation in the homicide of Mr. Holton."
Upshaw said the gun charges were just a means "to keep a tail on" his client.
Bringing the relatively minor charges can be a way for authorities to hang onto Etheridge, who had been in custody since surrendering to police Wednesday afternoon. David Griem, a former state and federal prosecutor, said investigators were up against legal time limits that would have forced them to release Etheridge if he wasn't charged.
In most circumstances, police must bring charges within 72 hours or face a court-ordered release of a suspect.
Such limitations are watched closely in Detroit, where police are under federally mandated changes due to past cavalier treatment of homicide suspects and witnesses.
Eminem -- who drew upon Proof's encouragement in his transformation from Marshall Mathers, a white suburban kid hanging out in the black Detroit music scene, to an international cross-cultural figure -- issued a statement lauding Proof's contributions.
"Right now, there's a lot of people focusing on the way he died," the statement said. "I want to remember the way he lived. Proof was funny, he was smart, he was charming."
Proof's funeral is scheduled for 11 a.m. Wednesday at Fellowship Chapel, 7707 W. Outer Drive, Detroit. A viewing will be at Swanson Funeral Home, 806 E. Grand Blvd., Detroit, from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Tuesday.

Mario: nice job. Some bigheaded asshole rapper though he was all that and shot your friend, and you gave him what he deserved: a slug through his brain. I hope the absurd charges are dismissed because it seems this is a clear case of self defense. Of course, the DA might try and burn you just because you killed some C grade celebrity who nobody had ever heard of until his head exploded.

Ecce Homo

2006-04-14T17:10:00.000-05:00

ECCE HOMO by Paul Charnetzki

Cocklee doodle doo! Cockle doodle doo!
And so the sun came up on Empathy, Wisconsin. Alan’s eyes opened languidly, his body refreshed from a long sleep full of joyful dreams. Erika laid next to him, a slight figure wrapped up in the velvet sheets. He stroked her hair and she murmured something in her sleep, smiling. He kissed her on the forehead and got up. He wanted to experience this beautiful morning to its fullest. Erika had had a long night at Joy House before coming over to Alan’s to rest, so it was natural that she would sleep in. Alan looked at his television, a bulky old thing he had bought at an antique place that he had modified to show the modern feeds. It was the talk of all his friends. But he couldn’t use it now, Erika was sleeping.
Still yawning sporadically and stretching, Alan made his way to the kitchen. Soon bacon was popping and sizzling, and eggs fresh from the dairy farm were broken, stirred, and scrambled. Alan whistled an old tune from his childhood as he prepared them, wistfully remembering running through the high grass of the fields, flying kites, and his later adolescent hobby of rocketry. He remembered demonstrating the new rocket he had built to several of his friends. He had been talking up how fast and high it would go for weeks. When he’d lit it, it had just sat on the ground until it exploded. That was the closest he had come to the badness. His friends had saved him. They had started laughing hysterically, tears streaming down their eyes from the pure hilarity of the moment, pointing at him, and the rocket, slapping their knees. The joy welled up in him as well, how funny and silly it all was! He grinned, sliding the eggs out of the hot pan on to the plate with the still sizzling bacon. What swell guys. Maybe they’d be at the Milk Pail today, the coffee shop where they often met up to reminisce about old times and talk about their projects and girlfriends.
He ate his food, which was incredibly delicious as always (he was a good cook if he did say so himself), showered, and dressed. As he came out the front door the car honked at him cheerfully, starting its engines, happy to serve him for another day. He climbed inside, whistling again. His neighbor Phil was on his front lawn in a bathrobe, reading the mornings paper.
“Morning, Alan!”
“Good morning, Phil! How the hell are ya!”
“Good as always, Alan! Beautiful morning!”
“It is, Phil, it is!”
And with that cheerful greeting, Alan set off for the town center. The road curved for a couple miles along the lake, where a couple sailboats were already out, and a group of happy little children in their tough, loose fitting play clothes were running along the beach looking for interesting rocks and seashells.
He slowed down as he reached town, a quaint little place with history dating back to the Dementia era. A large concrete wall blocked the river and had water pouring over it, his schoolteacher had told him it was a primitive technology called a dam. The town council kept it around for its quaint, old time charm.
He pulled the car in to the office parking lot and climbed on out, waving goodbye to the car. The fifty story pink high rise rose above him. Everyone was a busy bee at the office, moving quickly and purposefully, but not in too much of a hurry to smile and wave to Alan as he made his way to his office. Smooth, cheerful but not too jarring music was piped in to the hallways through subtly concealed speakers. It was a tune Alan recognized from its frequent repetition. He skipped along to the rhythm, snapping his fingers. He went through 4113 and smiled at his secretary, Jane, wondering whether she’d enjoy sex with him tonight. His office was nice, with a view overlooking the lake. It was a real window, not just a thinscreen. He sat down in his executive sized chair and leaned back, kicking his feet up on the grand oak desk. Jane came in and gave him what he’d been working on yesterday, and he got busy.
He’d run in to a particular design problem. Project Codename Phoenix, as it was officially referred to, was given to overheating. Not in the sense of becoming inoperable, but making it vulnerable to infrared detection. The stealthed war drone with its thermonuclear payload could not be an efficient little bee if bad people could spot it and shoot it down. It was a ticklish little puzzle, but one Alan knew he could resolve. He could feel himself on the edge of overcoming it, and smiled. Life was good.
He worked until 11:45 and then left for his lunchbreak, heading for the Milk Pail. The Milk Pail was a bit of a distance away and he took it slow, enjoying the walk to the fullest. This was the artist district, full of young bohemians and street performers. He paused to see a particulary skilled juggler who was stripped to the waist and delightfully painted, bouncing up and down and throwing and catching eight baseballs. He threw five credits in to her offering box. He walked a couple more blocks, and then the tinkly music signaled. The anthem would be at noon today, what a delightful surprise! He smiled and looked around for everyone around him. They came together in a chain, holding hands, their faces beaming, and began to sing.

Eudaemonica! Our home and native land!
True cheerful love in all thy folks command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The happy way is for me!
From far and wide, Eudaemonica,
We hold our hands for thee.
State keep our land pain and bad thing free!
Eudaemonica, we hold our hands for thee.
Eudaemonica, we hold our hands for thee.

He could feel the entire nation coming together, a constellating of beaming, smiling faces, all orbiting around the strong, caring presence that was State. He could feel the strength and joy souring through him, and tears streamed down his face, his mouth cracked opened in such a wide grin it almost hurt. Oh, how he loved his country, and loved State! As the children’s rhyme said “State is our father and mother”.
As the song ended, everyone hugged and kissed, he kissed one young woman passionately. She squeezed his butt and gave him her number. He wiped himself off with a tissue and continued on the Milk Pail, taking his usual shortcut through an alleyway. It was an unpleasant place where the garbage dumpsters were set out for collection, but it was only a short way. Or it would have been, until a man emerged from behind a dumpster.
He was a vile creature, dressed in black with a queer little collar. His skin was ugly and he looked unkempt and filthy. As he came towards Alan, he began to smell him, a vile odor of sweat. Soon the odor became even worse, one of some chemical burning, along with the reek of sewage. Alan’s vision darkened, he began to itch uncontrollably, and his eyes burned. He staggered backwards. The man came forwards and grabbed him by his shirt, slamming him against the plastic dumpster. He held up his hand, with a strange rectangular object in it. He spoke, bathing Alan’s face in his noxious breath.
“Take it.”
“What… what… I…”
The man punched him in the stomach, hard, knocking his breath out of him. Alan doubled over and began to cry, shaking.
“Take it! TAKE IT!”
“OK... OK I…”
He took the book from the man’s hands, and he was gone. In shock, Alan picked himself up. Suddenly the Milk Pail didn’t seem like so much fun. He used his cellphone to call Jane and say he wanted to take the rest of work off today, and took a cab home, the walk to the car seeming frightening and uncertain. He was dropped off without much delay in front of his house. He could see Erika was in the garden planting flowers. He waved at her and went inside quickly, he didn’t want to see her right now. He sat down in the living room, and was surprised to find the disgusting man’s book in his hand. The cover was simple, not decorated and cheerful like every other book he had read. The cover said ILLUSTRATED AND SIMPLIFIED NEW TESTAMENT. He opened it up and began to read. It wasn’t like any other book he had read, about cooking or arts of crafts or the rocketry he loved as a boy. It was a storyteller’s tale written down for some strange reason. There was a picture every couple of pages.
It was a bizarre tale of a boy born in some primitive part of the world, but oddly compelling. There was an evil king that butchered children, and an evil empire called the Romans. Many things were strange, bordering on completely nonsensical, but the writer seemed to make his best effort to make them intelligible to Alan. He found himself absorbed. The man loved everyone, and everyone loved him. The man did many nice things, healing people who were sick and spent a lot of time telling people the right way to do things, just like his old schoolteacher had taught him the edicts and principles of State. Alan couldn’t put his finger on it, but he seemed to have a different message, one that was shocking and strange. It revolved around the laughable concept of some kind of ultra-powerful State being out there, who controlled everything and could punish or reward you after you died. Yet puzzlingly, nobody seemed to be listening to such a powerful State. A strange time period indeed!
He started to reach what he sensed was the climax of the tale. He was betrayed by one of his followers for some credits, and was taken. This was when the story became very exciting. They hurt him, oh how they hurt him. Alan began to laugh hysterically. They kicked him, punched him, whipped him, and put a crown of thorns on his head. Not only that but they spit on him and made fun of him at every turn. What a story! Alan was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face. Then the man was nailed to a cross of expensive organic wood using primitive construction technology, and left to die.
Alan closed the book, still laughing hysterically. He remembered the man in the alley, how he’d grabbed him, how he’d pushed him. He’d hurt him. He laughed and laughed and laughed. He went in to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, driving it in to his leg and pulling it back, the blood flowing freely. He wiped it with his hand and brought it to his mouth, tasting it, savoring it.
“Erika! Erika I love you!”
Erika heard him outside, in the garden.
“What’s that honey?”
“Erika I love you!”
Erika opened the front door and came to him in the kitchen, and was surprised when she saw him bleeding from the leg. She came forward to console him, a grin breaking out on her face. He punched her in the stomach and she doubled over. He used his leg, kicking her hard in the chest. Oh, what fun it was! That not only could he use his hands to hurt, but his legs as well! She hit the floor and began to moan. Humming the cheerful tune from work, Alan grabbed more knives from the kitchen. He grabbed her arm and held it out from her body, plunging the knife through her hand and in to the floor. He almost laughed hysterically then, but he didn’t want to ruin it, so he controlled himself with a will he never knew he’d had, and continued. The knife plunged in to other extended hand, and then he pinned the feet as well, Erika screaming in agony with every plunge of the blade.
He stepped back and looked at her on the floor, screaming and crying out, and starting to lose consciousness. He walked over to her and slapped her face.
“Erika! Stay awake! Its only the afternoon!”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. Then he began to laugh.
The laugh came out him in an incredible rush. He imagined the river swelling and bursting through the old dam, the concrete flying everywhere. He laughed so hard the muscles of his face began to scream in pain, his chest ached, and all this only made him laugh more. She laughed with him, the incredible force of the hilarity ripping through her body. She began to spasm and jerk, and she ripped her right hand out from being pinned by the knife. Her hand was half cut off now and hanging limply, gushing blood. Alan had another idea. Still laughing, he went to the bedroom and grabbed the television. He unplugged it and picked it up. He walked back to the kitchen slowly, Erika was still laughing but looking weaker now, she had lost a lot of blood. Alan knew he should call Emergency Services, but he was having so much fun! He raised the television and slammed it down on her head.

Chicago Photo Series Part 1

2006-04-12T17:19:00.000-05:00

Blogger resizes the photos, so if you actually give a shit it's probably better to copy the URL's and open them in a new window.

The El tracks on Wabash and Van Buren:

A couple blocks further north at the Adams and Wabash stop, the flying rats flock. In the winter, you'll see about 30 of them cluster here under the stairway for warmth.

And a random alleyway for your viewing pleasure!

Hope you enjoyed it.

Irish OUT NOW!

2006-04-10T23:57:00.000-05:00

I'm tired of these undesirables flooding in here. All these undocumented workers need to be stopped NOW. Here's some good cartoons.

The New Absolutism

2006-04-10T11:44:00.000-05:00

From fff.org:

The Bush White House also asserted that the September 2001 “Authorization to Use Military Force” resolution passed by Congress after 9/11 entitled Bush to tap Americans’ phones. But if the authorization actually entitled the president to do whatever he thinks necessary on the home front, then Americans have been living under martial law for the last four and a half years.

At this point, Americans can only guess which laws Bush feels obliged to obey. According to Newsweek, Steven Bradbury, head of the Justice Department’s Office of Legal Counsel, recently informed the Senate Intelligence Committee that Bush could order killings of suspected terrorists within the United States.

Movie Review: Tom Yung Goong

2006-03-28T18:06:00.000-06:00

Like Ong-bak, this film begins in the (apparently) idyllic countryside of Thailand. There's some clan out there with a long tradition of learning muay thai and living beside elephants. The elephants are considered to be part of the family. Jaa's character and his dad decide to take their older elephant and his son to some sort of elephant event in the city (this was rather vague). Some Evil Dudes plug Jaa's dad and snatch the elephants away to Australia. Ass kicking ensues.

This is a hilariously bad movie that contains some very fun action scenes. It lacks a lot of the fresh, innovative stuff that was in Ong-bak. A lot of the action scenes are poorly set up and edited together badly, especially a boat chase early in the movie that could have been awesome but comes off feeling rushed and pointless. There's also an incredibly bad CGI dream sequence. Who the hell dreams in CGI? The trouble beind all this is that the movie was poorly written, and not very well thought out. Now, I'm not claiming that Tony Jaa's previous film, Ong-bak was the next Chinatown, but the storyline, if silly, was far more coherent and didnt feel as pointless. In this one, the stupid storyline's best moments is when its unintentionally hilarious.

There's a lot of stuff to laugh about. Throughout the film, Tony Jaa faces off against the Chinese triads. Now, I don't know much about how the triads operate, but I'm pretty sure they're not run by a whip cracking transexual with an elite squad of massive muscle men he / she must have recruited from Mr. Universe competitions. In Ong-bak we learned to hate and fear the wheelchair ridden, and now tranny's have joined that esteemed group.

There are awesome, draw dropping action scenes, though some, especially early in the movie, are poorly directed. It's not a good idea to allow the audience of an action film to see that people aren't really being struck by punches and kicks. Director Prachya Pinkaew screwed the pooch a few times here. However, there is enough excellent stuff in here to satisfy fans of the genre such as myself. As long as you don't take this movie too seriously or expect any kind of storyline, you'll enjoy yourself. If the inept scenes get too boring, just skip to the action bits.

It's not released in the US yet, I was forced to pirate it to feed my Tony Jaa addiction. I can see why US distributors might be leery about releasing this. There are english language scenes where the goofy Petchtai Wongkamlao (who was the hustling gambler with a heart of gold in Ong-bak) speaks well enough to convince Thais, but people in the US would be left puzzled as to how the hell this guy has a job in the police force. He also refers to the tranny as "that faggot", which is pretty funny, but you know how PC everybody is.

The movie ends with a bit of Thai national pride delivered in voice over. Apparently, Thais love peace, and elephants, but if you mess with them or the elephants they will fuck you up. I will keep this in mind if I ever visit the country.

Movie Review: Aguirre, the Wrath of God

2006-03-27T02:14:00.000-06:00

"Our nation is already six times larger than Spain, and the longer we drift, the greater it becomes."

This film is a masterpiece. Herzog's use of the camera is brilliant. The style could be called documentary, but it is more deliberate and calculating than that. In most films with historical subject matter, the intent is usually to let the camera, that modern invention, fade in to the background. Here, the camera is so obviously there, especially early in the film. Water is even splashed across the lens, distorting the picture. Whether this was intentional or merely the hazards of filming only Herzog knows. But as the explorers go further down the river, the camera ceased to be apparent to me and became my own eye, or perhaps the eye of the jungle, or god. The trees are brooding, implacable, and a host of other adjectives. The evocative nature of the imagery of this film is it's greatest achievement.

Kinski's performance as Aguirre is incredible. It seems that at any moment he will explode, but the tension is kept under the surface. His rants, which could easily be delivered screaming at full volume, are chillingly muted. "I am the wrath of God," he proclaims, as he leads everyone to their doom.

There are parts in this film which are horrible and terribly sad, and everything is punctuated with a haunting image which is Herzog's trademark. The images of this film will stay with you for a long time. This is the full potential of cinema realized, right here. I suggest you see it immediately.

What did I take away from this film? Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely- and all power is ultimately delusion. Eventually, the world swallows us all, and our bones remain if we're lucky.

Movie Review: The Libertine

2006-03-17T13:09:00.000-06:00

This movie has recieved mixed reviews, and I have no idea why. Depp's performance is brilliant, as are the surrounding cast (including John Malkovich as Charles II). The story follows the Earl of Rochester, who was apparently a womanizer, alcoholic, and writer of extremely innapropriate plays. Picture an English Marquis de Sade, and you get the idea. In the movie he's cast as a nihilistic, self destructive rebel. His crowning achievement is a play he writes for Charles II, to be debuted with the arrival of a French ambassador. Depending on how you see him, Rochester has either wasted his life, or is simply reacting to the corruption of his own society. It's an unconventional, brilliantly performed film. Highly recommended.

More On V

2006-03-17T13:06:00.000-06:00

Wired.com has outdone me with an even better review.

Near the beginning of V for Vendetta, a masked avenger named V slashes his initial into a poster. The scene feels familiar: The sword work comes courtesy of Zorro and the logo looks like the anarchist symbol turned on its head.

From the start, Larry and Andy Wachowski, the Matrix brothers, pack Vendetta with literary, religious, political and pop culture references: the Sex Pistols and The Girl From Ipanema, The Count of Monte Cristo and Beethoven, Twelfth Night and Benny Hill.

Though Vendetta is a potential bonanza for a graduate student in search of a thesis topic, it may leave the rest of us scratching our heads.

That's not because Vendetta tries to pull together too many ideas and icons. It's because it doesn't pull together anything.

The Wachowskis, who wrote and produced the film, and adman Jim McTeigue, who directs, throw all kinds of icons and chewy concepts into their pot. But they seem to have forgotten to consult a recipe. So Vendetta fails both as a political text and as a Hollywood blockbuster.

The Wachowskis adapted the screenplay from Alan Moore's acid, richly layered comic, written in the early 1980s. Controversial long before 9/11, the original Vendetta follows an embittered anarchist-terrorist as he tries to spark a revolution by, in part, dynamiting government buildings.

The film follows a similar story line. Wearing a creepy mask in honor of Guy Fawkes (a Catholic rebel who, in 1605, planned to blow up Parliament and assassinate King James I), V first explodes the Old Bailey courthouse. Then he infiltrates the headquarters of BTN, a Fox News-like TV network. Hacking his own DVD into the system, V urges viewers to overthrow, by any means necessary, the fascist government.

The Wachowskis move the action from the late 1990s to 2020 but provide plenty of contemporary links. News programs discuss avian flu, the rendition of terrorists and an Iraq war gone wrong. Vendetta also features a Bill O'Reilly-style pundit and venal pharmaceutical companies in its story line.

These references end up feeling like red herrings: Vendetta is too vague to pack much political punch. Hollywood, with its congenital fear of alienating anyone, manages to dilute the comic book's radical, complex vision.

What's left is a fuzzy, pandering film. What are its lessons? Totalitarianism is bad. People power is good. Unless you aren't quite sure where to stand on the whole Hitler-Nazi-Holocaust thing, Vendetta is unlikely to evolve your worldview.

The film's biggest problem, however, isn't its watered-down politics. Vendetta falls surprisingly flat as entertainment. There's some dazzling action and the exciting design we expect from the Wachowskis.

But as it bounces between genres -- a bit of melodrama, a dash of political intrigue, some half-hearted footage of a fascist dystopia -- the film doesn't seem to know how to look or feel. V (Hugo Weaving) and Evey (Natalie Portman) are lit in glowing, romantic hues, even as the film insists that we are on the edge of apocalypse.

Warner Bros. has been advertising Vendetta as "an uncompromising vision of the future." But other than skinny phones and a drive-by eavesdropping truck, London 2020 feels just like London 2006. Technological advance apparently comes to a near standstill in the decade to come.

The plot doesn't make much sense, either. V blows up a building, liquidates a bunch of high-powered enemies and threatens to overthrow the powers that be. The government's response? To send two cops to track him down. Two cops! Some police state.

It's no wonder Moore insisted that Warner Bros. remove his name from the credits.

Movie Review: V For Vendetta

2006-03-17T03:15:00.000-06:00

A brilliant graphic novel becomes standard Hollywood shit, thanks to the Wachowskis and their partner in crime James McTeigue. The difference between this and the graphic novel:

1) A retarded explanation at the beggining of Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot, for the sake of stupid people around the world. Even if you didnt get the Guy Fawkes reference (which I didn't at first reading the novel), it's not like you can't make sense of the plot.

2) It's "updated" to the current times (the "post 9-11 world"). This might be alright if Moore had actually done the updating, but its done by the hack Wachowski brothers, and we all know they couldnt write their way out of a post office. Even more importantly, updating and making it modern does a detriment to the universality of the story. V for Vendetta is not about Margaret Thatcher or George Bush, its about repressive government in general.

3) A lot of what made the novel innovative is removed. In the novel, we're thrown right in to V killing people, without an explanation of what is going on. We slowly learn, through the characters of Evey and the detective what drives V to do what he does. The movie does not very well explain V's motivations.

4) The killings: V boringly stabs people instead of doing the cool elaborate shit he did in the novel. No dolls in concentration camps or killing a bishop with a holy wafer. Thanks for taking all the fun out, and replacing it with Wachowski action slow mo. Fuck.

5) The political content is substantially twisted. There's no mention of anarchy. The word "anarchy" is only mentioned once in the film by a convenience store stickup artist, and not by V at all. A lot of the political content is left out. The worst ommision is V's television speech in which he attacks humanity's dependence on state authority in times of fear. This is replaced with: "there's something very wrong with this country". Well, no shit. Secondly, there's the movie's approach to "the people". In this movie, the people are intelligent, politically aware, and dislike the regime. At the end we get a mob of people confronting armed soldiers wearing V masks (which were Fed Exed to them in a bizarre plot device that has no rational explanation). In the graphic novel, the people were largely motivated by fear. Even at their most revolutionary, they're not much more than an enraged mob.

6) Worst of all, the character of V is unnecessarily sentimentalized. V is not a person, V is an idea. We never see what is behind his mask and costume. In the movie, we see he has been burned, he flips pancakes, has his feelings hurt by Evey, blah blah blah. This is all in there to "humanize" the character, which detracts from the whole notion of him not really being a human at all. V was not a man, he was an embodiment of anarchy.

There's more I could talk about but... I'm tired. This movie is conventional Hollywood action garbage. If you want to experience something interesting, check out the graphic novel. If you've read the graphic novel, this will certainly dissapoint you.

Fry the Fuckers

2006-03-15T14:31:00.000-06:00

I've been watching this story for a while, and I see no reason why the stupid pigs involved in kicking this guy to death shouldn't be sent straight to the chair. Sure, the kid was an asshole, stealing his grandmas SUV or something. But that wasn't what pissed them off. It was his refusal to bow to their authority. And this is the result when stupid little piggies get carried away:

The poor-quality video shows six or seven uniformed guards surrounding him, with some holding him against a tree while others appear to hit him. Over and over, the boy falls to his knees and the guards pull him up by the arms and try to make him walk, only to have him collapse again.
One guard strikes him on the forearm. Anderson seems limp and does not appear to fight against them. Paramedics eventually are called and take him away on a stretcher.
The district medical examiner said on Thursday Anderson died of internal bleeding from an inherited but previously undiagnosed blood disorder called sickle cell trait. He said stress from vigorous exercise caused the bleeding and that there were no signs of trauma other than a bruised lip and scratches to his head.
Anderson's parents, Robert Anderson and Gina Jones, said their son was in good health and played basketball on his school team. They said he was murdered and that his organs were too badly damaged to be donated.

It's obvious that the medical examiner was completely full of shit, and an autopsy has confirmed it. I see no reason why these brown shirts shouldnt be hauled in front of a jury, and they would be immediately if the justice system actually worked. But you can bet the system is going to go to bat for their precious employees, and a 14 year old black kid doesnt have much pull in the legal system. If Paris Hilton was beaten to death in a boot camp, they'd probably all undeservedly hang, but it seems to me they're going to get away with this. That's really a shame.