I need to stop listening to RadioIO80s. Will you help me? 'Cuz I need to work on my essay on the narrative perspective of "The Metamorphosis." I was convinced that I had writer's block, but I realized just before falling asleep at 1.10 pm today that what I have now will work for the paper. But what have I done? I've napped and listened to RadioIO80s, which now only plays some of the worst 80s music. But I've also regained my youth.
1.) Earlier, Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" was playing. All of a sudden, I had a flashback and I accurately remembered Mannequin 2: On the Move (1991), but the song was written for the first one with Andrew McCarthy and Kim Cattrall. But it's in the second, which I spent a lot of time watching over and over. Thus I was at once impressed with my skills (read: memory) and horrified by it all.
2.) "The Final Countdown" by Europe. I thought I was remembering Rocky IV (1985) or something like that, but in fact I was really just recalling GOB's theme. It was playing when he sank the family yacht.
3.) Now it's a song by Rick Astley that I don't remember at all ("Move Right Out"). But I remember him: his voice, his dark suits that were always WAY too big for him, my cousin's enthusiasm for his music. She liked Barry Manilow, too. Still might, for all I know.
Get this: Whenever I publish a blog, Jay does something that makes me have to write again. This time, he's gone and played Phil Collins. I should just kill myself right here, right now.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Sunday, April 8, 2007
no need to book in advance
I just saw the trailer for No Reservations (2007), the one with Catherine Zeta-Jones as an anal retentive chef who suddenly comes into the custody of her niece, Abigail Breslin aka the Oscar-nominated precocious Olive of Little Miss Sunshine (2006). At the same time, the chef must deal with the sous-chef (a very SIZZLING Aaron Eckhart) who's got different methods in the kitchen. And on top of this, she's gotta resist his sexiness. Poor girl.
Sound familiar? It is. It's a remake of a cute little German film, Bella Martha (2001). See the trailer so you can see how it is the same, scene for scene. How could Scott Hicks, who gave us Shine (1996), remake something that won't match the original (let alone remake anything at all)?
On a similar note, I've heard that the Best Picture of 2006, according to the Academy anyway, is almost scene for scene the same as its original source material, Infernal Affairs (2002). For. Shame.
Sound familiar? It is. It's a remake of a cute little German film, Bella Martha (2001). See the trailer so you can see how it is the same, scene for scene. How could Scott Hicks, who gave us Shine (1996), remake something that won't match the original (let alone remake anything at all)?
On a similar note, I've heard that the Best Picture of 2006, according to the Academy anyway, is almost scene for scene the same as its original source material, Infernal Affairs (2002). For. Shame.
Saturday, April 7, 2007
wtf? and omg!
How was "Go Insane" possibly Lindsey Buckingham and NOT Wham! or George Michael?
Oh, and if only the commercials on RadioIO80s would change!
And now Rod Stewart's "Some Guys Have All the Luck" is playing. Reminds me of a little version I did when I was little ("some guys have long penises"). I got in a lot of trouble for it after my sister suggested I sing and dance it in front of my dad.
Memories, memories.
Oh, and if only the commercials on RadioIO80s would change!
And now Rod Stewart's "Some Guys Have All the Luck" is playing. Reminds me of a little version I did when I was little ("some guys have long penises"). I got in a lot of trouble for it after my sister suggested I sing and dance it in front of my dad.
Memories, memories.
my world's turned upside down
I don't know what to do now. I feel like Howard Stern in Private Parts (1997) once the radio station he's been working at in Detroit or some place has turned country. RadioIO80s no longer plays new wave. I knew something was up once stream host Jay Cumbie started playing the Producers, who I get confused with bands like the Hooters and the Tubes. (However, I should note that these last two bands were played from time to time on MY RadioIO80s.)
Now I doubt I will ever hear the likes of the Smiths, the Jam, the Clash, Joy Division or New Order even. I'm now in the company of Don Johnson, Hall & Oates, Lionel Richie, and some guy called Gerald Levert (of "Casanova" fame, apparently). It's like any other easy listening channel minus Roxette, Ace of Base, Cher, and Gloria Estefan. The only respite I've had this morning is "Rock Steady" by the Whispers (grew up with that song) and, forgive me for saying this: Thompson Twins ("Doctor Doctor").
Oh god. "Break My Stride" by Matthew Wilder is on right now. Maybe my dad would like this change...
Now I doubt I will ever hear the likes of the Smiths, the Jam, the Clash, Joy Division or New Order even. I'm now in the company of Don Johnson, Hall & Oates, Lionel Richie, and some guy called Gerald Levert (of "Casanova" fame, apparently). It's like any other easy listening channel minus Roxette, Ace of Base, Cher, and Gloria Estefan. The only respite I've had this morning is "Rock Steady" by the Whispers (grew up with that song) and, forgive me for saying this: Thompson Twins ("Doctor Doctor").
Oh god. "Break My Stride" by Matthew Wilder is on right now. Maybe my dad would like this change...
Friday, April 6, 2007
my retinas still burn
I saw sunshine today. In more ways than one. It was an unusually sunny and warm day. And I also saw Sunshine (2007), a new sci-fi epic penned by Alex Garland and directed by The Great Danny Boyle. It doesn't come out in the U.S. until September. (What are they waiting for?) This time, it was just four of us. I arrived late because of the bus; the commercials had already started, and I was the first one in the theatre. But that is neither here nor there.
Out of respect, out of courtesy, I will not go on and on about this one because I highly recommend it. Sunshine is an experience, it's not a film. In much the same way that The Fountain (2006) was for me.
After the first half hour, once something truly upsetting had happened, I think I cried the rest of the way through. I had such a visceral reaction to the visuals, the sound, the story, that at some points it was hard for me to breathe (and to see because of the tears in my eyes). On the way out, the usher asked if I was alright.
I really hate that I cannot divulge much more because you can't see it yet. I will say I only had a few problems with it, such as the ending which should have ended just thirty seconds before. And I don't understand why they played the whole movie back during the end credits in a sort of cliff notes version.
When I first learned of the film's premise, I thought it was a bit stupid. But for two hours, I believed in their mission to basically bomb the sun's core so that its rays of light and warmth and energy would reach Earth. Suddenly it became very realistic, so realistic that you're amazed this hasn't actually happened before. It's set in 2057, following the effects of global warming and climate change, I'm sure, to some degree, but they never explicitly say. Oh, the technical jargon required some getting used to, but once things were set in motion, everything became clearer.
I had read an article in The Guardian by Mark Kermode, and I think it gives a good background to the film and where it comes from in relation to other sci-fi movies (for instance, it's very cineliterate). There is some discussion of spirituality, and it is definitely in the movie, but not in the way I was expecting and not in the way this article would lead you to believe. If I were to say more than this, I might ruin it for you.
Out of respect, out of courtesy, I will not go on and on about this one because I highly recommend it. Sunshine is an experience, it's not a film. In much the same way that The Fountain (2006) was for me.
After the first half hour, once something truly upsetting had happened, I think I cried the rest of the way through. I had such a visceral reaction to the visuals, the sound, the story, that at some points it was hard for me to breathe (and to see because of the tears in my eyes). On the way out, the usher asked if I was alright.
I really hate that I cannot divulge much more because you can't see it yet. I will say I only had a few problems with it, such as the ending which should have ended just thirty seconds before. And I don't understand why they played the whole movie back during the end credits in a sort of cliff notes version.
When I first learned of the film's premise, I thought it was a bit stupid. But for two hours, I believed in their mission to basically bomb the sun's core so that its rays of light and warmth and energy would reach Earth. Suddenly it became very realistic, so realistic that you're amazed this hasn't actually happened before. It's set in 2057, following the effects of global warming and climate change, I'm sure, to some degree, but they never explicitly say. Oh, the technical jargon required some getting used to, but once things were set in motion, everything became clearer.
I had read an article in The Guardian by Mark Kermode, and I think it gives a good background to the film and where it comes from in relation to other sci-fi movies (for instance, it's very cineliterate). There is some discussion of spirituality, and it is definitely in the movie, but not in the way I was expecting and not in the way this article would lead you to believe. If I were to say more than this, I might ruin it for you.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
what's with today today?
Gregory Peck would have been 91 today.
Bette Davis 99.
Spencer Tracy 107.
Melvyn Douglas 106.
What is wrong with IMDb today? Surely some people born today are still living, right? In any case, it is rather cool that so many (contemporaneous) acting "legends" were born on April 5.
Bette Davis 99.
Spencer Tracy 107.
Melvyn Douglas 106.
What is wrong with IMDb today? Surely some people born today are still living, right? In any case, it is rather cool that so many (contemporaneous) acting "legends" were born on April 5.
please reuse me
I just found out some disturbing news. I've been recycling glass along with plastic bottles and aluminum cans when I shouldn't have. I don't ever feel right about throwing away glass. How am I supposed to do that now?
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
happy birthday johnny borrell
Before I took a three-hour-long nap this evening, I had been awake for 34 hours straight. I'm still very tired and I suspect I will take it very easy tomorrow so as to recover.
I'm not going to recount everything that happened in Manchester. I will say I got lost once but that was just while getting my bearings after having to exit from Piccadilly Station rather than Oxford Road. I heard at Cornerhouse, where I saw The Namesake (2006), that there was a bomb threat/scare. This troubled me because I recalled the Arndale IRA bombing of 1996. Yesterday was the first time in the UK I ever felt worried about where I was. I didn't feel well watching a movie in a basement.
I went to Manchester to see Razorlight in concert, as you know. I am not very familiar with their music, but I do have their first record. The concert was at MEN Arena and I hadn't been to an arena-scale concert in forever. It reminded me of the very first concert I ever went to: Bush. (Don't ask.)
Last night was filled with contradictions. I enjoyed the concert very much; I finally had some fun! We didn't know how many supporting acts there would be or just who they were even, so it really was quite exciting to see it unfold in front of us. Mohair was the first band but I wasn't too crazy about them. Then Pull Tiger Tail came on, and I much preferred them (they were also sexier). I should look up each band's music because I am of the persuasion that believes that seeing a band in concert does not mean that I'll like the recording. I mean, when the vocals are not equal to the instruments' noise, you cannot really hear the vocals. The singer may sound "annoying," and this would only be obvious on the album. Anyway, will look them up. I suggest you do, too. Especially Pull Tiger Tail (what a ridiculous name).
I had grown tired halfway through Razorlight's set. It didn't help that I was also holding my bladder. But once I relieved that upon leaving the venue with thousands of other people, I became hyper and obnoxious. Leaving, we actually passed members of the first two bands signing merchandise. I was so wound-up that I said "hi!" to the lead singer of Mohair as he walked past. He didn't hear me because I probably wasn't loud enough. I should have said, "Your set just kept getting better and better!" This is not untrue; it just leaves out the fact that it wasn't very good at the start.
Then I sat in the kitchen with my friends Lisa and Denise, chitchatting away until 1.45 am. On the way back to the hostel, Lisa had bought a copy of Q Magazine with Razorlight frontman Johnny Borrell on the cover, topless and looking a bit like Mick Jagger and Jim Morrison. We found out from Q that today, the 4th, is his 27th birthday. And he didn't even mention it to us. Surprising because he is sooo into himself.
In any case, I put my head down at 2.10 am but never lost consciousness. People were already asleep by the time I got into bed, so I'm not exactly sure to whom I can attribute each strange behavior. You see, I could never get to sleep because of these weird noises. One guy was snoring AND moaning. It was a sort of hybrid. Another (or it could be the same guy, and I think it was) spurted out trios of farts every so often. Two others had your run-of-the-mill snores. Another spontaneously woke himself up now and again, saying something in a language I could not readily identify. I slept on the top bunk, above some guy who reeked of smoke and B.O. when he got in at 3 am. And he snored. It was terribly unpleasant. Especially since I otherwise really liked this hostel. It was VERY clean, very quiet, and very well-situated. (Although I must say I did not like the showers as you could see right through them and there was no area to change.)
In summation about most of the nine other people I shared a room with last night, I thought: "These people should never sleep in public." I don't understand how some--such as my friend Lisa (who, I might add, never made a peep!)--could sleep through it!
At 6.40 am, I finally stopped rolling around. I got dressed and watched "Breakfast" on BBC 1 where I witnessed firsthand Lee Ingleby's sexiness. He was promoting the BBC 1 drama "George Gently" with co-star Martin Shaw. Other than this nice blip, I really just heard all the top news stories over and over for a few hours. Then I headed out to Urbis. Learned some new things thanks to a private tour (a bored docent walked straight up to me, Denise, and Denise's friend who met us at the hostel just before, and asked if she could lead us around). Learned more about how the building/site relates to that part of downtown. Also more about the architecture and architect himself, Ian Simpson, who clearly has democratic ideals in mind while designing but likes to hole up in the poshest parts of his designs like any pure elitist.
I was afraid there wasn't anything new since the last time I went there. But this was fortunately untrue. "Play" was pretty damn cool even if kids were fooling around with the interactive exhibits. It was basically about people reclaiming urban spaces and subverting practices and prejudices that are so closely regulated. For instance, there were playful uses of irony in temporary graffiti art that was, in some cases, quite inspirational. In the snow, one artist had inscribed something to the effect of "My mum told me to stay at home. Did I listen? Hell no!" and "Listen kids, graffiti destroyed my life." There's guerrilla gardening in some parts of the world, too, where people meet up late at night and plant flowers and such in public areas. This reminded me of Joe's Apartment (1996). Despite looking like something for kids (with a title like that...), it was really rather good.
Also good was the exhibit on Hong Kong's contemporary art trying to reconcile some historical and cultural issues within and outside itself. The exhibit is an event to help mark the 10-year anniversary of Hong Kong's switching over from British to Chinese control. This exhibit was there the last time I was at Urbis, but I didn't get to see it because we ran out of time.
Unfortunately, Urbis will have two exhibits starting in the summer that I will miss: "The Best of Manchester" and "The Hacienda." That pisses me right off.
Next I went to the Manchester Art Gallery and was utterly underwhelmed. The wonderful space that had once housed the Joe Colombo exhibit that had amused me so much I wrote a paper about him was now sparingly decorated for an exhibit about contemporary international artists' use of Cold War sci-fi themes to make statements about race and difference. Almost absolutely no (con)text. And there really wasn't much of an emphasis on a/an (inter)national context, but they showed movie posters of American films in local languages such as Polish and Italian. They looked the same as the American posters for the same films. What does this say? The curators don't even attempt to answer this question. Will say that I loved the richly painted orange walls. So was "Alien Nation."
And then I went home.
I'm not going to recount everything that happened in Manchester. I will say I got lost once but that was just while getting my bearings after having to exit from Piccadilly Station rather than Oxford Road. I heard at Cornerhouse, where I saw The Namesake (2006), that there was a bomb threat/scare. This troubled me because I recalled the Arndale IRA bombing of 1996. Yesterday was the first time in the UK I ever felt worried about where I was. I didn't feel well watching a movie in a basement.
I went to Manchester to see Razorlight in concert, as you know. I am not very familiar with their music, but I do have their first record. The concert was at MEN Arena and I hadn't been to an arena-scale concert in forever. It reminded me of the very first concert I ever went to: Bush. (Don't ask.)
Last night was filled with contradictions. I enjoyed the concert very much; I finally had some fun! We didn't know how many supporting acts there would be or just who they were even, so it really was quite exciting to see it unfold in front of us. Mohair was the first band but I wasn't too crazy about them. Then Pull Tiger Tail came on, and I much preferred them (they were also sexier). I should look up each band's music because I am of the persuasion that believes that seeing a band in concert does not mean that I'll like the recording. I mean, when the vocals are not equal to the instruments' noise, you cannot really hear the vocals. The singer may sound "annoying," and this would only be obvious on the album. Anyway, will look them up. I suggest you do, too. Especially Pull Tiger Tail (what a ridiculous name).
I had grown tired halfway through Razorlight's set. It didn't help that I was also holding my bladder. But once I relieved that upon leaving the venue with thousands of other people, I became hyper and obnoxious. Leaving, we actually passed members of the first two bands signing merchandise. I was so wound-up that I said "hi!" to the lead singer of Mohair as he walked past. He didn't hear me because I probably wasn't loud enough. I should have said, "Your set just kept getting better and better!" This is not untrue; it just leaves out the fact that it wasn't very good at the start.
Then I sat in the kitchen with my friends Lisa and Denise, chitchatting away until 1.45 am. On the way back to the hostel, Lisa had bought a copy of Q Magazine with Razorlight frontman Johnny Borrell on the cover, topless and looking a bit like Mick Jagger and Jim Morrison. We found out from Q that today, the 4th, is his 27th birthday. And he didn't even mention it to us. Surprising because he is sooo into himself.
In any case, I put my head down at 2.10 am but never lost consciousness. People were already asleep by the time I got into bed, so I'm not exactly sure to whom I can attribute each strange behavior. You see, I could never get to sleep because of these weird noises. One guy was snoring AND moaning. It was a sort of hybrid. Another (or it could be the same guy, and I think it was) spurted out trios of farts every so often. Two others had your run-of-the-mill snores. Another spontaneously woke himself up now and again, saying something in a language I could not readily identify. I slept on the top bunk, above some guy who reeked of smoke and B.O. when he got in at 3 am. And he snored. It was terribly unpleasant. Especially since I otherwise really liked this hostel. It was VERY clean, very quiet, and very well-situated. (Although I must say I did not like the showers as you could see right through them and there was no area to change.)
In summation about most of the nine other people I shared a room with last night, I thought: "These people should never sleep in public." I don't understand how some--such as my friend Lisa (who, I might add, never made a peep!)--could sleep through it!
At 6.40 am, I finally stopped rolling around. I got dressed and watched "Breakfast" on BBC 1 where I witnessed firsthand Lee Ingleby's sexiness. He was promoting the BBC 1 drama "George Gently" with co-star Martin Shaw. Other than this nice blip, I really just heard all the top news stories over and over for a few hours. Then I headed out to Urbis. Learned some new things thanks to a private tour (a bored docent walked straight up to me, Denise, and Denise's friend who met us at the hostel just before, and asked if she could lead us around). Learned more about how the building/site relates to that part of downtown. Also more about the architecture and architect himself, Ian Simpson, who clearly has democratic ideals in mind while designing but likes to hole up in the poshest parts of his designs like any pure elitist.
I was afraid there wasn't anything new since the last time I went there. But this was fortunately untrue. "Play" was pretty damn cool even if kids were fooling around with the interactive exhibits. It was basically about people reclaiming urban spaces and subverting practices and prejudices that are so closely regulated. For instance, there were playful uses of irony in temporary graffiti art that was, in some cases, quite inspirational. In the snow, one artist had inscribed something to the effect of "My mum told me to stay at home. Did I listen? Hell no!" and "Listen kids, graffiti destroyed my life." There's guerrilla gardening in some parts of the world, too, where people meet up late at night and plant flowers and such in public areas. This reminded me of Joe's Apartment (1996). Despite looking like something for kids (with a title like that...), it was really rather good.
Also good was the exhibit on Hong Kong's contemporary art trying to reconcile some historical and cultural issues within and outside itself. The exhibit is an event to help mark the 10-year anniversary of Hong Kong's switching over from British to Chinese control. This exhibit was there the last time I was at Urbis, but I didn't get to see it because we ran out of time.
Unfortunately, Urbis will have two exhibits starting in the summer that I will miss: "The Best of Manchester" and "The Hacienda." That pisses me right off.
Next I went to the Manchester Art Gallery and was utterly underwhelmed. The wonderful space that had once housed the Joe Colombo exhibit that had amused me so much I wrote a paper about him was now sparingly decorated for an exhibit about contemporary international artists' use of Cold War sci-fi themes to make statements about race and difference. Almost absolutely no (con)text. And there really wasn't much of an emphasis on a/an (inter)national context, but they showed movie posters of American films in local languages such as Polish and Italian. They looked the same as the American posters for the same films. What does this say? The curators don't even attempt to answer this question. Will say that I loved the richly painted orange walls. So was "Alien Nation."
And then I went home.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Monday, April 2, 2007
auto-reply message: will return wednesday
I'm exhausted. There's not enough time to write a proper post. I am going to Manchester tomorrow for a Razorlight concert. I won't be back until Wednesday evening/night. This means there will be no post tomorrow. The first time since I started this blog. I apologize for any inconvenience.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
hey, burn my finger
My left index finger is swollen. It's red. It hurts. It looks like a bee has stung it, but actually I burned it on the pan while I was cooking grilled cheese sandwiches this evening. Wait, that's not true. I was WASHING the pan with COLD water so that I could carry it back to my room. How do you like that? I didn't get the part where the handle meets the actual pan and burned myself just at that spot. Terrific.
Will you kiss it, make it feel better?
Will you kiss it, make it feel better?
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