I've always wanted to do one of these, but every year when it got to the end I had forgotten most of the movies I saw, even the good ones. But this year I wrote about every movie I saw, so it was easy.
These are not in order of greatness, but the order in which I saw them. Click on the titles if you want to read my original reviews.
1. Sideways - This movie, along with American Splendor, made me jump up and down shouting to the four walls what a GREAT actor is Paul Giamatti. Don't forget to watch Duets, he's in that one too! He also has a small part in Saving Private Ryan, which I only discovered when I watched it again the other day.
2. The Aviator - Martin Scorsese's movie about Howard Hughes. I liked how he locked himself in the room with his piss bottles. I can see myself doing that somewhere in the future, for sure.
3. Ong-Bak - Tony Jaa is insane, man. I was reading some blog recently where somebody was complaining that there has been no martial arts hero since Bruce Lee. Well, please step forward Mr Jaa! Your eyes will pop right out of your head watching this guy and his AWESOME action scenes. A movie like this makes a laughing stock of movies by such *action stars* as Jean Claude Van Damme and Steven Segal (not that I've ever managed to watch an entire movie with either of those guys, they are so awful).
4. The Machinist - Christian Bale lost about every last atom of fat for this one. He looks like he just stumbled out of Dachau. The guy is hardcore. This movie was a very grim and grotesque thriller, and so great.
5. Crash - I think I only started blubbing once at the movies this year and it was when Matt Dillon pulled the girl out of the car in this one. But the whole movie was excellent. There is hope for humanity yet!
6. Batman Begins - Christian Bale again, this time playing Batman, and doing an excellent job. The best Batman movie since that first one with Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson.
7. Grizzly Man - OK, this is not a movie at all, it's a documentary, but I saw it at the cinema, and it's one of the most amazing cinema experiences I've had in my whole life. I couldn't stop thinking about this guy and his beloved bears for weeks afterwards. And I'm still waiting for the DVD to be released!.It's taking a long time!
8. Howl's Moving Castle - Another wonderful animated fantasy from Hayao Miyazaki. This, and his Spirited Away, will delight you, guaranteed.
9. The Magician - Just about every other Australian movie in 2005 had much higher production values, but this was the one that grabbed my attention the most. A *documentary* following a Melbourne hitman and his regular day-to-day life. If your jaw doesn't develop an intimate relationship with the floor throughout this one, I'd be surprised.
10. The 40-Year Old Virgin - Before I saw this one, and if I saw the previews, and if I was Spiderman, I might have said, 'My Spider-sense is tingling! It's telling me that this will be another dumb-as-fuck gross-out movie!' But my Spider-sense would have been wrong because this was really good, and impossible not to like. How could you not like this movie, and these characters? Impossible!
Friday, December 30, 2005
Thursday, December 29, 2005
It's Not The Heat...
Why is it still so hot at this late hour (9:20pm)? That's what I'd like to know. Actually, it is not hot, but humid. You know, it's not the heat that gets you so much as the humidity. Have you heard that one before? I'll bet you have. If you live in a place that has high humidity in summer, you will have heard that line, or a subtle variation of it. Well, I've heard it enough times, man. I know very well it's the goddam humidity and not the heat! Everybody friggin' knows that already! I'll tell you what, man, the next time somebody says that to me, about it not being the heat but the goddam humidity that gets you, I will ask them if that's the best they can come up with.
'Is that the best you got?' I will say. Then I'll start windmilling my arms and shout:
'Everybody knows that already and you're only saying it because you can't think of anything else to say, you goddam robot! Get some new material!'
Of course, I would never really say that. What I would say would be something like this:
'You know what? You're quite right! It IS the humidity and not the heat! Because, if you just have the heat, you can sit in the shade and cool down, but with the humidity, you can't even sit in the shade! It won't work! You will still be sweating like a maniac! It's that humidity, is what it is! You're quite right, I say!'
And I'll have twisted my face up into a grotesque expression of intense admiration.
Then that person will give me a funny look, and walk away.
'Is that the best you got?' I will say. Then I'll start windmilling my arms and shout:
'Everybody knows that already and you're only saying it because you can't think of anything else to say, you goddam robot! Get some new material!'
Of course, I would never really say that. What I would say would be something like this:
'You know what? You're quite right! It IS the humidity and not the heat! Because, if you just have the heat, you can sit in the shade and cool down, but with the humidity, you can't even sit in the shade! It won't work! You will still be sweating like a maniac! It's that humidity, is what it is! You're quite right, I say!'
And I'll have twisted my face up into a grotesque expression of intense admiration.
Then that person will give me a funny look, and walk away.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Codeine Problem
When you buy Nurofen Plus/Panafen Plus (12.8Mg Codeine Phosphate) and you read the back of the packet where it says not to take these things for more than three days in a row, you should pay attention to that. Yet maybe you forget about that and take them for eight weeks straight, every night. Some nights you might go a little cRaZy and take eight, or ten, or twelve even. But that was only once; the next night you're back to eight, or ten. But when you start snapping at everybody, and having anxiety attacks all over the place, and an overwhelming sense of impending doom overtakes you, and you begin to despise yourself, and your writing seems to suck all of a sudden, you decide to quit (the stuff doesn't seem to work like it did at the beginning, anyway), but two days later you feel like your damn joints have frozen up and you have suddenly aged fifty years.
It is at that point you realise you should have paid attention to the back of that packet.
It is at that point you realise you should have paid attention to the back of that packet.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Merry Christmas!
Well, Brother will be here any minute in his automobile and we are zooming off up to Woy Woy to spend Christmas with Ma and Grandma and the Cousins. Merry Christmas to you all!
Friday, December 23, 2005
Morning Fantasy
This morning I woke up before the alarm went off. Half-asleep I wondered, not very optimistically, if it was Saturday. No, it didn't have that Saturday morning feeling, and it didn't feel as though I had served my full weekly term, so I knew it must be Friday. 'Oh well', I thought, 'if it has to be a weekday, Friday is the best one!' I sprang out of bed, lost my balance, and went straight into the wall. With an egg rising fast on my head, I bounced like a pinball into the bathroom.
I showered without incident and made sure the skin was dry before I stepped into my uniform: black shoes, guacamole pants, black t-shirt. Then, standing in the middle of my room looking at the green clock numbers and listening to the man talking about a Muslim Barbie doll, I understood it was time to get going. I pushed my bike out the door, making another big black smear on it with the rear tyre. Sometimes I wonder what people think when they walk past my door. It looks like stormtroopers with sticky rubber boots tried to kick it in. I like it, maybe because it makes me feel like I'm in 1984. Why do I have this obsession with living in a robot world where there is a TV or radio that is constantly on, and there is only one channel or frequency, and you are not allowed to ever turn off, can only turn it down a little? In my fantasy I yank it off the wall and smash it into pieces, but then the robots come after me in force, armoured, with their high-powered weapons and electric stun sticks and they jab them into my ribs and armpits when I say: 'FUCK YOU, I WON'T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME.'
Then I am taken away to an ugly bare room and subjected to torture - psychological and physical.
I don't last long.
I showered without incident and made sure the skin was dry before I stepped into my uniform: black shoes, guacamole pants, black t-shirt. Then, standing in the middle of my room looking at the green clock numbers and listening to the man talking about a Muslim Barbie doll, I understood it was time to get going. I pushed my bike out the door, making another big black smear on it with the rear tyre. Sometimes I wonder what people think when they walk past my door. It looks like stormtroopers with sticky rubber boots tried to kick it in. I like it, maybe because it makes me feel like I'm in 1984. Why do I have this obsession with living in a robot world where there is a TV or radio that is constantly on, and there is only one channel or frequency, and you are not allowed to ever turn off, can only turn it down a little? In my fantasy I yank it off the wall and smash it into pieces, but then the robots come after me in force, armoured, with their high-powered weapons and electric stun sticks and they jab them into my ribs and armpits when I say: 'FUCK YOU, I WON'T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME.'
Then I am taken away to an ugly bare room and subjected to torture - psychological and physical.
I don't last long.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Stratu Comic by David Puckeridge
Here's another Stratu comic. Another one? Yes, however this one was not drawn by Simon James, but by my old comics pal David Puckeridge! I got this in the mail today and it really made my week. It's really great.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Domino
I left work early this afternoon and went speedily to the movie house in order to catch the 3:45 session of King Kong, but as I was waiting in line to buy a ticket I looked up at the board and it said that session was FULL. Ah! Foiled was I! A decision had to be made: go home or see a different movie? I decided to see a different movie, and that movie was called Domino.
What a stinker! This movie was awful! Boo! Oh wait, I had better write something about what actually happened in the movie...
Domino is apparently BASED on a true story of a woman (Domino) who became a bounty hunter. Domino is played by Keira Knightley. It begins with a big shootout in a little cabin out in the desert then cuts to a scene of Lucy Lui (who plays a detective) interrogating Domino. Domino declares she will spill the beans and tell Lucy all about it. Yay! No need for torture! [There's enough of that just watching the movie.] Now we go back to the TRUE beginning, in England, when Domino was a little girl and her goldfish died. At that very moment she decides never again to invest her love in anything; from now on she will be a real BADASS! Then her mother falls in love with Beverly Hills 90210 and drags Domino to live there. Where? Beverly Hills, of course! But then she goes to college, ends up in a fraternity with a bunch of bimbos and when they start hazing her by calling her boobs "mosquito bites" and asking her how she feels "having the body of a ten-year-old boy" she asks that girl, "Have you had a nosejob?" and when the girl says "Duh! No!" Domino winds up and punches her real hard in the schnozz, busting it up real good. Hurrah!
[Hey, wait a minute! This movie sounds pretty good! What's going on here!]
Anyway, she gets expelled from college and becomes a model. We see her on a catwalk and some other model bumps into her so Domino gets mad and turns around and yanks that girl's hair so she falls down. Woah! She is badass, alright!
Then! Somehow she learns about a seminar on how to become a bounty hunter. She rolls up, pays her $99.00 and listens to a bit of the pitch but then the guy says 'OK break for lunch and see you after.' But it's a scam! The three guys wanna take the money and run but Domino sees one of them going out the bathroom window and gives chase. She confronts them and throws her knife through the windshield of their car and with her badass attitude convinces them to give her a go.
I won't go on with the story because it's too ridiculous and convoluted. Also, soon after that I gave up caring what the hell was going on because it was too stupid. The movie is cut so fast it looks like a really long music video, and every scene is filmed using a heavy yellow or green filter.
The music is awful, I didn't like any of it. One track they have the nerve to play TWICE is some loud obnoxious rap song with a chorus of "MOTHERFUCKER!" The soundtrack seems to be aimed at people who start giggling when they hear a cuss word in a song. Or maybe they use those tracks to reinforce the point that Domino is very ANGRY and BADASS. It could be one, or the other, or both.
Mickey Rourke is in the movie and he plays the main bounty hunter and Domino's mentor. It's a shame to see him in this after his recent AWESOME appearance in Sin City. Oh well, I hope he gets something good next time. Christopher Walken is also in it for a little while but hasn't got much to use. Oh well, he probably got paid a lot of money.
The dialogue is awful too, like in one scene near the end where Domino has just about finished her story, she notices that Lucy Lui has been staring at her goldfish tattoo and tells her so. Lucy Lui knows a lot about goldfish and tells her some facts about them. Then Domino says:
"I'll bet you are in a very unsatisfying marriage and you hate your job."
"Actually, I am not married, and I LOVE my job."
"Well, tonight I'll bet you will go home and fantasise about my pussy."
There's also many, many scenes where Domino is screaming at people, but she only sounds like a teenage girl jumping up and down on her bed throwing a fit at her mother for telling her to turn her Spice Girls record down a little.
People who hated (or even loved) Beverly Hills 90210 might want to see the movie because Ian Zeiring and Brian Austin Green are here playing themselves as washed-up actors, and Domino even punches Green in the face (breaking his nose) for suggesting that she's pretending to be badass when she's really only an angry daddy's girl.
Jerry Springer fans may also want to check it out because there's a big Jerry Springer Show scene where a black woman comes on ("America's Youngest Grandmother!") and shows a chart naming new racial varieties, like 'blacktino', and this of course starts an audience riot.
You know what? It suddenly occurs to me that this movie may actually end up with a cult following. Good grief, yes, it could happen! It certainly has many of those 'hey-what-about-the-scene-where...!' moments.
Yikes! Could I be wrong and this awful movie is, in fact, an accidental work of genius?! Please God don't let it be so! Or forgive me and only give me one more chance to watch it again and realise its great worth!
*falls to the floor, groaning in the Spirit*
[Dear readers, you are invited to comment on the movie if you have seen it. I'll welcome your opinion!]
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Last Day Of Recreation Leave
It's the last day of my Recreation Leave so I go back to work tomorrow. It won't be so bad because Boss has the week off. Although I must admit she hasn't thrown any big fits for a while. She's really not a bad egg when she is not thowing fits. Anyway, as strange as it may sound, I don't even mind going back to work, in fact I am even looking forward to it, in a way. You see, when I don't have to go to work, I don't go out unless it's absolutely necessary. I'll happily spend weeks on end shut up in my small room, (like Ren) going about my intellectual pursuits. That's why it's good that I have a job, because it forces me into contact with other biological units; and as you may know, that can be a fine and healthy thing. It is also good for coming up with stories to write. If one is shut up in a room for days on end reading books and playing videogames and eating chilli sauce on toast, it can get tricky coming up with a story to write (unless, like Terry Goodkind, you have *The Magic*. I don't have *The Magic*, so it's tricky). That's why I don't mind going back to work. I will also get to ride the bus again every day and perhaps my obsession with those reading women will return, or something else equally wonderful. Also, I am looking forward to being reunited with the morning mailbag. If you believe Boss, it is a shameful thing to enjoy sorting the mail, but I don't care! I LOVE sorting the mail! What's wrong with that? Nothing, that's what! Let me sort the mail unmolested, Boss, and you go play with your chihuahuas!
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Another World
For long time I wondered what that great wonderful Gackt song Another World lyrics were, such a perfect song to throw self around one's small room to, but every time I hear the Japanese words I don't understand. Yet that song can be enjoyed without being understood, very much, don't worry! But right now just then I discovered the lyrics! I must share them with you immediately!
*falls to floor delirious with joy*
A ripped and trashed magazine A taintless soul
A one scene out of a movie You are safe
Don't look away... The two of us together
will say good-bye to this world
and go as far as we can
Farther than anyone, If it's a dream don't wake up
Across the sky You can see the another world
The cityscape is moss green A battered soul
Crumbling taxi You are beautiful
Exchanging words Don't cry darling...
Softly embraced by dearly pain
We'll go as far as we can
Looking kindly Please don't cry
Show me your smile You don't need another words
No matter how much pain I feel, because you were always there
Farther than anyone, If it's a dream don't wake up
Across the sky Hold me tight...
Looking kindly Please don't cry
Don't say Good-bye You don't need another words
You can see the another world
*falls to floor delirious with joy*
A ripped and trashed magazine A taintless soul
A one scene out of a movie You are safe
Don't look away... The two of us together
will say good-bye to this world
and go as far as we can
Farther than anyone, If it's a dream don't wake up
Across the sky You can see the another world
The cityscape is moss green A battered soul
Crumbling taxi You are beautiful
Exchanging words Don't cry darling...
Softly embraced by dearly pain
We'll go as far as we can
Looking kindly Please don't cry
Show me your smile You don't need another words
No matter how much pain I feel, because you were always there
Farther than anyone, If it's a dream don't wake up
Across the sky Hold me tight...
Looking kindly Please don't cry
Don't say Good-bye You don't need another words
You can see the another world
Friday, December 16, 2005
Nothing, Nothing!
Brain is frozen. Once again I have nothing. This is a familiar tune, and I know you've heard it before. Could it be the pressure to come up with something? Yes, it could be that, alright. Maybe I have been reading my book for too long today. Intimidated by a man whose book is now a Penguin Classic. Could that be it? But why am I still sitting here sweating at 10:42pm (it's 29 degrees Celsius! or 84 degrees Fahrenheit!) trying to come up with something? I have been sitting here since 9:50, I'll admit it. Well, somehow I turned into a zombie. The only difference I don't feel like eating brains. But at least if I went out eating brains I could come back and have something to write about. ... If you are still reading, it must be because you are an optimist and are expecting something to happen. I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I still have nothing, and there is nothing on the horizon. Wait! No, its only vultures lazily circling.
10:54pm and the only idea I had was to walk five paces to the fridge to get another beer.
10:54pm and the only idea I had was to walk five paces to the fridge to get another beer.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Sydney Riot City
Mr. Blowhard asked me what's up with the race riots here in Sydney. Here it is as I understand it:
Two surf lifesavers on Cronulla Beach (a south Sydney suburb) were bashed by some Lebanese dudes which started a riot where hundreds of proud white Aryans ran through the streets searching for anybody who looked even remotely Middle Eastern to bash the fuck out of. No doubt the whole War on Terror thing and those bad egg Muslims didn't help the situation.
But of course there's more to it than that.
On Friday and Saturday nights we'd get carloads of these Lebanese dudes (are they ALL Lebanese? apparently...) coming into the city from the western suburbs and driving through, out to Bondi Beach. I had my own encounter with one of these carloads of obnoxious tracksuits since where I live is just off Oxford Sreet, which is the street you take to get out to Bondi Beach. I was going up to get more beer from the pub on the other side of Oxford Street. I was waiting for the lights to change and so were the cars. The car right in front of me was full of these young Leb dudes and they were all staring at me. Some awful modern R'n'B was booming out of the car and they were all wearing tracksuits. Oh well, so they have appalling taste. That's their problem. But as soon as the light turned green the guy in the front passenger side spat in my direction, shouted 'FUCKING FAGGOT!' and the car sped off. What the fuck? ... Ah! You see, the area where I live is a gay-friendly zone. That was it: they thought I was a homo. It was funny though, in a way, because they probably all sit around watching porn looking at each other as they crank their Lebanese sausages.
Anyway, I also had another recent experience with these dudes. A couple of months ago when Anders and I went to Bondi Junction to work at one of Brother's club nights, it was shut down by the cops before it even started, so we headed back to my place. But as we were walking to the bus stop, there were some young raver girls on the corner, sitting on the ground giggling at one another, and naturally they were dressed for a rave party. Short skirts, hot pants, boob tubes, that kind of gear. But this car bursting at the seams with macho Leb honchos cruised past. The girls were pelted with a half-full McDonald's thickshake cup and loudly called 'SLUTS!' As my friend Anders said, these guys are very protective of their own *slutty* sisters, but when they see other girls who look like that, it's a potential fucking rape zone.
Anyway, so these Leb dudes would go out to Bondi Beach. God knows what they did out there, probably drive their cars up and down Campbell Parade looking for hot chicks to shout at and call sluts. But it seems they wore out their welcome at Bondi and were somehow persuaded to stay the hell away, so they just moved down to the southern beaches, like Cronulla and Maroubra. Apparently they have been raising hell there for the last few years and people have been getting pretty damn sick of it, but beating up those two surf lifesavers was the last straw. Surf lifesavers are an Aussie icon, you know!
One of the problems seems to be the way these dudes are brought up in regards to the womenfolk. Their women are kept locked up in closets and have tents draped over them when they go out, so if they see a woman in hot pants with boobs almost popping out, it's a big blazing neon sign invitation for rape. The bitch deserves it anyway for sure, right? Pull your big stupid car up with the dumb sleazy R'n'B music pumping out at a million decibels, jump out with your retarded as fuck tracksuit-wearing mates and jump on the bitch, rip her barely-even-there-anyway clothes off and pump her full of Lebanese sausage and creamy garlic sauce. The louder she screams, the more she likes it, the fuckin' white trash bitch. Ugh. Ugh! UGH!
Well, there you have it. It's an ugly business, no doubt about it. But are all Lebs like this? They couldn't be! But no doubt there is enough of them making arseholes of themselves to piss people off in a big we're-not-gonna-take-it-anymore kind of way. Riots? We don't have riots here. We watch riots on TV. The Aussie philosophy is 'she'll be right, mate' and 'no fuckin' worries'. We don't go crazy like that for no reason. And forget anything you have heard about it being a white supremacist action. Sure we have those groups here, but they are pissing in the toddler's pool, as it were; nobody is listening.
Look, really I am just as amazed and confused by this riot action as anybody else, and especially as it's going on here. It's crazy, man. But what the fuck am I doing writing topical shit for anyway? I don't do topical shit!
Two surf lifesavers on Cronulla Beach (a south Sydney suburb) were bashed by some Lebanese dudes which started a riot where hundreds of proud white Aryans ran through the streets searching for anybody who looked even remotely Middle Eastern to bash the fuck out of. No doubt the whole War on Terror thing and those bad egg Muslims didn't help the situation.
But of course there's more to it than that.
On Friday and Saturday nights we'd get carloads of these Lebanese dudes (are they ALL Lebanese? apparently...) coming into the city from the western suburbs and driving through, out to Bondi Beach. I had my own encounter with one of these carloads of obnoxious tracksuits since where I live is just off Oxford Sreet, which is the street you take to get out to Bondi Beach. I was going up to get more beer from the pub on the other side of Oxford Street. I was waiting for the lights to change and so were the cars. The car right in front of me was full of these young Leb dudes and they were all staring at me. Some awful modern R'n'B was booming out of the car and they were all wearing tracksuits. Oh well, so they have appalling taste. That's their problem. But as soon as the light turned green the guy in the front passenger side spat in my direction, shouted 'FUCKING FAGGOT!' and the car sped off. What the fuck? ... Ah! You see, the area where I live is a gay-friendly zone. That was it: they thought I was a homo. It was funny though, in a way, because they probably all sit around watching porn looking at each other as they crank their Lebanese sausages.
Anyway, I also had another recent experience with these dudes. A couple of months ago when Anders and I went to Bondi Junction to work at one of Brother's club nights, it was shut down by the cops before it even started, so we headed back to my place. But as we were walking to the bus stop, there were some young raver girls on the corner, sitting on the ground giggling at one another, and naturally they were dressed for a rave party. Short skirts, hot pants, boob tubes, that kind of gear. But this car bursting at the seams with macho Leb honchos cruised past. The girls were pelted with a half-full McDonald's thickshake cup and loudly called 'SLUTS!' As my friend Anders said, these guys are very protective of their own *slutty* sisters, but when they see other girls who look like that, it's a potential fucking rape zone.
Anyway, so these Leb dudes would go out to Bondi Beach. God knows what they did out there, probably drive their cars up and down Campbell Parade looking for hot chicks to shout at and call sluts. But it seems they wore out their welcome at Bondi and were somehow persuaded to stay the hell away, so they just moved down to the southern beaches, like Cronulla and Maroubra. Apparently they have been raising hell there for the last few years and people have been getting pretty damn sick of it, but beating up those two surf lifesavers was the last straw. Surf lifesavers are an Aussie icon, you know!
One of the problems seems to be the way these dudes are brought up in regards to the womenfolk. Their women are kept locked up in closets and have tents draped over them when they go out, so if they see a woman in hot pants with boobs almost popping out, it's a big blazing neon sign invitation for rape. The bitch deserves it anyway for sure, right? Pull your big stupid car up with the dumb sleazy R'n'B music pumping out at a million decibels, jump out with your retarded as fuck tracksuit-wearing mates and jump on the bitch, rip her barely-even-there-anyway clothes off and pump her full of Lebanese sausage and creamy garlic sauce. The louder she screams, the more she likes it, the fuckin' white trash bitch. Ugh. Ugh! UGH!
Well, there you have it. It's an ugly business, no doubt about it. But are all Lebs like this? They couldn't be! But no doubt there is enough of them making arseholes of themselves to piss people off in a big we're-not-gonna-take-it-anymore kind of way. Riots? We don't have riots here. We watch riots on TV. The Aussie philosophy is 'she'll be right, mate' and 'no fuckin' worries'. We don't go crazy like that for no reason. And forget anything you have heard about it being a white supremacist action. Sure we have those groups here, but they are pissing in the toddler's pool, as it were; nobody is listening.
Look, really I am just as amazed and confused by this riot action as anybody else, and especially as it's going on here. It's crazy, man. But what the fuck am I doing writing topical shit for anyway? I don't do topical shit!
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Girl In A Cafe
I got out of bed at 10:00 (which is pretty early for me when I don't have to get up at 7:30 to go to work) and went up to Kinko's to get those comics pages scanned. I found out it's not called Kinko's any more, it's called Fed-Ex Kinko's. Thanks a lot Fed-Ex, you fucked up a perfectly good copy shop name. Oh well, people will probably still call it Kinko's. Who the hell is gonna say, 'Hey! I gotta go to Fed-Ex Kinko's and make some more copies of my awesome zine or comic book!'? Nobody, that's who.
Anyway, when I walked in there and explained that I wanted some pages scanned, the guy went over to a machine and fiddled with it but came back a minute later and said he had to wait for his supervisor to get back from somewhere because something was wrong with the machine. I went and sat down at a table and pretended to get things out of my bag to look at, or sort through, or do something important with. But there was nothing else in my bag since I handed the pages over, so I pulled out of my pocket the folded up piece of paper that I use to make notes, but on this one there were only dumb shopping lists. Happily, the supervisor arrived on the scene at that moment and she got the scanning business underway. Then I had to go and sit down at the table again. I had nothing to read, and it was pretty boring in Kinko's, there were no women reading books, so I looked out the window. Across the road was a cafe. In the window I saw a girl sitting up on a stool at a table. She must have been talking to someone because she was waving her arms about, gesturing fervently with her hands, and moving her head up and down and from side to side. I quickly became entranced by these movements. She was very expressive! What in the world was she talking about that could animate her so? It was mesmerising. Then I noticed her face and hair. She looked just like Nadia. Not how Nadia would look today, because I don't know what she looks like today, but how she looked when we were together. How she looked ten years ago. And this observation had the effect of amplifying my already fascinated gaze by magnitudes. God, how much it looked like her! Then again, so what? A girl in a cafe who looks like Nadia did ten years ago. Big deal! Yet didn't it take years to get over her? It seemed to take years. I looked at the girl in the cafe again... But did I really get over her?
'There is no end to it,' I said to myself, as if spellbound, as if doomed.
I was snapped out of this strange grim reverie by the Kinko's supervisor calling me over to collect my comics pages and computer disc. I took them back to the table and checked the pages to make sure they were all there. The first page was missing. I went back to the counter and said, 'Hey, I think there's still a page stuck in your machine.' The supervisor looked in my direction but seemed to look through me. Was I really still there? Maybe that really was Nadia and it really was still ten years ago, and I wasn't in Kinko's after all, because Kinko's wasn't even there ten years ago...
But then the first guy I spoke to came over. I asked him to check the machine for my missing page. He went over and came back with the page and handed it to me. I walked outside.
I looked across the road at the cafe. The girl wasn't there anymore.
[Postscript: The Kinko's robots scanned the comics pages in some retarded format which I couldn't even use so I took photos of them. Which I should have done in the first place. Why didn't I do that? Why did I not think to do that? Am I an idiot? Yes, that could be it, for sure.]
Anyway, when I walked in there and explained that I wanted some pages scanned, the guy went over to a machine and fiddled with it but came back a minute later and said he had to wait for his supervisor to get back from somewhere because something was wrong with the machine. I went and sat down at a table and pretended to get things out of my bag to look at, or sort through, or do something important with. But there was nothing else in my bag since I handed the pages over, so I pulled out of my pocket the folded up piece of paper that I use to make notes, but on this one there were only dumb shopping lists. Happily, the supervisor arrived on the scene at that moment and she got the scanning business underway. Then I had to go and sit down at the table again. I had nothing to read, and it was pretty boring in Kinko's, there were no women reading books, so I looked out the window. Across the road was a cafe. In the window I saw a girl sitting up on a stool at a table. She must have been talking to someone because she was waving her arms about, gesturing fervently with her hands, and moving her head up and down and from side to side. I quickly became entranced by these movements. She was very expressive! What in the world was she talking about that could animate her so? It was mesmerising. Then I noticed her face and hair. She looked just like Nadia. Not how Nadia would look today, because I don't know what she looks like today, but how she looked when we were together. How she looked ten years ago. And this observation had the effect of amplifying my already fascinated gaze by magnitudes. God, how much it looked like her! Then again, so what? A girl in a cafe who looks like Nadia did ten years ago. Big deal! Yet didn't it take years to get over her? It seemed to take years. I looked at the girl in the cafe again... But did I really get over her?
'There is no end to it,' I said to myself, as if spellbound, as if doomed.
I was snapped out of this strange grim reverie by the Kinko's supervisor calling me over to collect my comics pages and computer disc. I took them back to the table and checked the pages to make sure they were all there. The first page was missing. I went back to the counter and said, 'Hey, I think there's still a page stuck in your machine.' The supervisor looked in my direction but seemed to look through me. Was I really still there? Maybe that really was Nadia and it really was still ten years ago, and I wasn't in Kinko's after all, because Kinko's wasn't even there ten years ago...
But then the first guy I spoke to came over. I asked him to check the machine for my missing page. He went over and came back with the page and handed it to me. I walked outside.
I looked across the road at the cafe. The girl wasn't there anymore.
[Postscript: The Kinko's robots scanned the comics pages in some retarded format which I couldn't even use so I took photos of them. Which I should have done in the first place. Why didn't I do that? Why did I not think to do that? Am I an idiot? Yes, that could be it, for sure.]
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Stratu Comics Update
Like I mentioned last night, when I checked my mailbox yesterday there was a package from Simon James, my Tasmanian comics friend. A couple of months ago he wrote that he liked my blog stories and wanted to make comics out of them. It's impossible to describe how totally buzzed I was by this news, so I'll only say that it made me so happy I did a lot of jumping up and down, along with some big air guitar moves.
Anyway, in this package I got yesterday there were nine pages of the comics version of the Professional Glo-stix Salesmen story I wrote back on 6 February. I'll try to get a page or two scanned this week so I can put it up here. It's pretty cool (to understate it somewhat). But this is still an early stage because, get this, Mr James believes that this project will blow out to around 200 pages. In short, graphic novel length.
Along with the glo-stix story, Simon is also planning to make the following stories/fragments/bloggy bits into comics: Mercy Hug; I Saw Her Again Today; 500,000 Kilograms; In The Office, In The Woods; Silver Cars; Dirty Look; Night Walk; Are You Having Fun; Night Piss; Army Barracks; A Song; Riding The Bus; Bloodshot; Operation; Women Reading On The Bus; Bus Trip With Giant Woman; and Woman Reading At Bus Stop.
This covers the Feb-April 2005 period. It is provisionally titled 'Women Reading On The Bus' and will be an A6-size (14.5 x 10.5 cm = 7.5 x 5 inches) clothbound book and will be finished around February 2006.
Is this all really going to happen? I dare not believe it! But who knows what could happen? Why could it not happen? Why not something so cool happen to me?
God Bless you, Simon James, and please don't let this be only a dream.
Anyway, in this package I got yesterday there were nine pages of the comics version of the Professional Glo-stix Salesmen story I wrote back on 6 February. I'll try to get a page or two scanned this week so I can put it up here. It's pretty cool (to understate it somewhat). But this is still an early stage because, get this, Mr James believes that this project will blow out to around 200 pages. In short, graphic novel length.
Along with the glo-stix story, Simon is also planning to make the following stories/fragments/bloggy bits into comics: Mercy Hug; I Saw Her Again Today; 500,000 Kilograms; In The Office, In The Woods; Silver Cars; Dirty Look; Night Walk; Are You Having Fun; Night Piss; Army Barracks; A Song; Riding The Bus; Bloodshot; Operation; Women Reading On The Bus; Bus Trip With Giant Woman; and Woman Reading At Bus Stop.
This covers the Feb-April 2005 period. It is provisionally titled 'Women Reading On The Bus' and will be an A6-size (14.5 x 10.5 cm = 7.5 x 5 inches) clothbound book and will be finished around February 2006.
Is this all really going to happen? I dare not believe it! But who knows what could happen? Why could it not happen? Why not something so cool happen to me?
God Bless you, Simon James, and please don't let this be only a dream.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
I'm Back
Here I am, back from my holiday. Actually, I am still on holiday because I don't go back to work until Monday 19 December, and then Boss is on holiday for that week so really it's like I got three weeks holiday. Pretty cool, man.
So where was I all week? I was on the Gold Coast, up in Queensland. Brother and I went to the Gold Coast. Why do we go to the Gold Coast for a holiday? It is very hot up there and that's the place to go if you want to run around outside in the sun, and splash around in the sea, under the sun. We don't like to run around in the sun because our thermostats are busted or something. It's genetic. It comes from our mother. When it's hot I start sweating like a maniac. I'll look around and nobody else is sweating, so why the hell am I sweating? Am I guilty? Have I got something to hide? Well, everybody has got something to hide, it just looks more obvious with me because I sweat like a bastard. It's not very nice, is it? You see somebody next to you sweating like a bastard and you go 'Ugh. That bastard is sweating like a total maniac bastard!'
But why do we go there then? Well, I can't speak for Brother, but as for myself, I can't afford to go to Norway.
What was good about my holiday: Sleeping in; eating Big Chief Burgers; reading videogame magazines; playing Half-Life 2; hitting the beers, bourbon and vodka; sitting on the balcony smoking cigarettes; the big late-afternoon thunderstorm that turned the sky Apocalyptic; the other thunderstorm way out at sea so you couldn't hear it, only see the orange lightning flashes; also, when I was walking out of Oasis (the local mall) a guy dressed all in black with long hair called out to me and ran up. He said, 'You gotta come and see us in Brisbane on the 23rd!' For a while I couldn't figure out what it was all about, but then it clicked. He was a metal dude and had spotted my Nile t-shirt. I asked him what his band was called and he said Invocation. I told him I would be back in Sydney by the 23rd but if his band came down to Sydney I would go along for sure. He said 'Oh yeah, we'll probably go there next year', so that was pretty cool, it was big smiles all around.
What was not so good about my holiday: All the damn anxiety attacks I had. Being out in public really sucks sometimes, and it sucked a lot the past week. Feeling like everybody is examining you like a bug is not very fun. And it doesn't help when you are sweating like a maniac.
Anyway, it was a pretty cool holiday, and like I said I've still got another week off. Plus! When I checked my post office box this afternoon there was a package from Simon James, my Tasmanian comics friend and the very talented young man who is making comics out of my stories. A good mail day indeed! But I'll write about that tomorrow night.
And how wonderful it is to be back in my small dark room writing in my bloggy! *Blub!*
So where was I all week? I was on the Gold Coast, up in Queensland. Brother and I went to the Gold Coast. Why do we go to the Gold Coast for a holiday? It is very hot up there and that's the place to go if you want to run around outside in the sun, and splash around in the sea, under the sun. We don't like to run around in the sun because our thermostats are busted or something. It's genetic. It comes from our mother. When it's hot I start sweating like a maniac. I'll look around and nobody else is sweating, so why the hell am I sweating? Am I guilty? Have I got something to hide? Well, everybody has got something to hide, it just looks more obvious with me because I sweat like a bastard. It's not very nice, is it? You see somebody next to you sweating like a bastard and you go 'Ugh. That bastard is sweating like a total maniac bastard!'
But why do we go there then? Well, I can't speak for Brother, but as for myself, I can't afford to go to Norway.
What was good about my holiday: Sleeping in; eating Big Chief Burgers; reading videogame magazines; playing Half-Life 2; hitting the beers, bourbon and vodka; sitting on the balcony smoking cigarettes; the big late-afternoon thunderstorm that turned the sky Apocalyptic; the other thunderstorm way out at sea so you couldn't hear it, only see the orange lightning flashes; also, when I was walking out of Oasis (the local mall) a guy dressed all in black with long hair called out to me and ran up. He said, 'You gotta come and see us in Brisbane on the 23rd!' For a while I couldn't figure out what it was all about, but then it clicked. He was a metal dude and had spotted my Nile t-shirt. I asked him what his band was called and he said Invocation. I told him I would be back in Sydney by the 23rd but if his band came down to Sydney I would go along for sure. He said 'Oh yeah, we'll probably go there next year', so that was pretty cool, it was big smiles all around.
What was not so good about my holiday: All the damn anxiety attacks I had. Being out in public really sucks sometimes, and it sucked a lot the past week. Feeling like everybody is examining you like a bug is not very fun. And it doesn't help when you are sweating like a maniac.
Anyway, it was a pretty cool holiday, and like I said I've still got another week off. Plus! When I checked my post office box this afternoon there was a package from Simon James, my Tasmanian comics friend and the very talented young man who is making comics out of my stories. A good mail day indeed! But I'll write about that tomorrow night.
And how wonderful it is to be back in my small dark room writing in my bloggy! *Blub!*
Friday, December 02, 2005
Intermission
I am going away for a week tomorrow so I probably won't be able to write anything here. I know you will cope somehow. Somehow! But will you miss me? In my fantasy you will miss me terribly! In my fantasy!
*falls off chair in rapturous fit of sadness and joy*
*falls off chair in rapturous fit of sadness and joy*
Thursday, December 01, 2005
A Survey of Some Recent Blogs X
I wanted to do this last night when it was still November but Anders came over and we drank beer and listened to music and I played some Onimusha 3: Demon Siege and Anders looked up sodium on the internet because I thought these little cans of tuna I have been eating were healthy but he noted the sodium content and found out that one of them, the Cajun Spices one, had as much salt in it as a packet of salt and vinegar chips. That was very depressing news and, in short, it shattered my illusions.
Anyway, let's take a peep at some recent blogs, what do you say?
1. Zeeny's Playground - a blog by a Romanian girl. Hm. Not bad, pretty good, not bad. Some nice photos; yes, it does appear that Zeeny likes taking photos, and she takes some very nice ones. What's more, she can put words together in an appealing way. Look here! I can't think of a single smart-arse thing to write about Zeeny's blog! Indeed, this is what this bloggy business is all about. Hurrah! for the Romanians!
2. Neo Tokyo Times - This is actually a blog by an NYU law student, so why is it called Neo Tokyo Times? I don't know, maybe he or she is an Akira fan. Is this person a boy or a girl? My guess is a girl because she uses the word *froofy*. Ugh. Well, but this blog is not easy to make fun of. What's going on here? The blog is not great, but it's not terrible. It's not awful, but neither does it make you jump up and shout goddam I must bookmark this thing immediately! Yet, the more I read it, the more annoying it gets! Why is that! Did you have the same experience? Is it only me?
3. Overseas- England - A teacher talks about decorating a Christmas tree and says 'goodness!' or 'my goodness!' all the time. I must be brutally honest and admit that this one seems like it was written by a robot. It is deadly dull. Ugh. Reading it makes me want to jab pins in my arm. And what the hell is going on with the stupid title anyway?
4. The Busybody - Holy Christ, some truly hardcore theology right here. You want some? I don't. I'll admit this makes my head hurt. I want no part of it. Theology robots!
5. Archtomato - Wow. How about this one. Archtomato gets the award for Most Unlikeable Blogger I've ever come across. Not only did he write a thoroughly mean-spirited anti-smoking top ten, but he also gloats about Nguyen Tuong Van, the Vietnamese Australian, going to the hangman tomorrow morning. Arsehole Blogger of the Year! For shame.
6. Jean Smith Paintings - Hey! Here's some paintings you can buy! I like the one with the cowboy saying: 'We're here now. Everything is ours. Too bad for you.' There's also a photograph of the artist, Jean Smith herself. Her facial expression seems to say, 'Will somebody buy one of my goddam paintings, already!'
7. S2 Naty S2 - Only one post and I can't even read it. Looks like Spanish. Or Portuguese. Stupid title, too. Off to an appallingly bad start!
8. Gatas do Flickr - Hey, look here. It's a sort of porno blog, but not hardcore, softcore. Actually, it's got some fetish elements too: women lying on motorcycles, showing their toes, flipping the bird, wrapped in plastic; some very nice photographs. Yes, sir, I do like this one!
9. Ozarkrain - This here is a blog written by a woman who has young kids and she's trying to grow them up in the Christian way. Yes, it's a Christian blog mostly featuring quotes taken from various Christian-themed books, along with the Bible. I have no smart-arse comments to make on this one. I had my own time trying to write about this stuff, and it's not easy!
10. NYC Taxi Shots 4 - This one is pretty interesting, and another example of what blogs are really all about. A taxi driver takes photos of people and things as he drives around the city. Pretty cool.
That's it. The end! Hard to believe there was not even one rotten adblog in this Survey. Maybe my campaign has been successful and those evil robots have realised that their brand of foul pollution is (to understate it) unwelcome. Ha! That will be the day!
Anyway, let's take a peep at some recent blogs, what do you say?
1. Zeeny's Playground - a blog by a Romanian girl. Hm. Not bad, pretty good, not bad. Some nice photos; yes, it does appear that Zeeny likes taking photos, and she takes some very nice ones. What's more, she can put words together in an appealing way. Look here! I can't think of a single smart-arse thing to write about Zeeny's blog! Indeed, this is what this bloggy business is all about. Hurrah! for the Romanians!
2. Neo Tokyo Times - This is actually a blog by an NYU law student, so why is it called Neo Tokyo Times? I don't know, maybe he or she is an Akira fan. Is this person a boy or a girl? My guess is a girl because she uses the word *froofy*. Ugh. Well, but this blog is not easy to make fun of. What's going on here? The blog is not great, but it's not terrible. It's not awful, but neither does it make you jump up and shout goddam I must bookmark this thing immediately! Yet, the more I read it, the more annoying it gets! Why is that! Did you have the same experience? Is it only me?
3. Overseas- England - A teacher talks about decorating a Christmas tree and says 'goodness!' or 'my goodness!' all the time. I must be brutally honest and admit that this one seems like it was written by a robot. It is deadly dull. Ugh. Reading it makes me want to jab pins in my arm. And what the hell is going on with the stupid title anyway?
4. The Busybody - Holy Christ, some truly hardcore theology right here. You want some? I don't. I'll admit this makes my head hurt. I want no part of it. Theology robots!
5. Archtomato - Wow. How about this one. Archtomato gets the award for Most Unlikeable Blogger I've ever come across. Not only did he write a thoroughly mean-spirited anti-smoking top ten, but he also gloats about Nguyen Tuong Van, the Vietnamese Australian, going to the hangman tomorrow morning. Arsehole Blogger of the Year! For shame.
6. Jean Smith Paintings - Hey! Here's some paintings you can buy! I like the one with the cowboy saying: 'We're here now. Everything is ours. Too bad for you.' There's also a photograph of the artist, Jean Smith herself. Her facial expression seems to say, 'Will somebody buy one of my goddam paintings, already!'
7. S2 Naty S2 - Only one post and I can't even read it. Looks like Spanish. Or Portuguese. Stupid title, too. Off to an appallingly bad start!
8. Gatas do Flickr - Hey, look here. It's a sort of porno blog, but not hardcore, softcore. Actually, it's got some fetish elements too: women lying on motorcycles, showing their toes, flipping the bird, wrapped in plastic; some very nice photographs. Yes, sir, I do like this one!
9. Ozarkrain - This here is a blog written by a woman who has young kids and she's trying to grow them up in the Christian way. Yes, it's a Christian blog mostly featuring quotes taken from various Christian-themed books, along with the Bible. I have no smart-arse comments to make on this one. I had my own time trying to write about this stuff, and it's not easy!
10. NYC Taxi Shots 4 - This one is pretty interesting, and another example of what blogs are really all about. A taxi driver takes photos of people and things as he drives around the city. Pretty cool.
That's it. The end! Hard to believe there was not even one rotten adblog in this Survey. Maybe my campaign has been successful and those evil robots have realised that their brand of foul pollution is (to understate it) unwelcome. Ha! That will be the day!
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