If you like your Halloween a little more shocking and chilling than the tame Disney-style creepiness I mentioned in the previous entry, check out this video:
[Note: Simple Tricks and Nonsense is not responsible for any harm that may occur as a result of viewing this scary video. Do not view while holding a hot beverage, or indeed any other kind of beverage. And it's probably not a good idea to sit too close to the screen, as that may increase the scariness...]
Here are a couple more links that might help you get in a mildly creeped-out mood for All Hallow's Eve:
Enjoy!
I love Halloween. Driving to the train station today, I passed a faceless, cloaked, and hooded ghoul riding his bike to school. On the train, I sat next to a middle-aged Raggedy Ann doll. And now at work I'm sharing cubicle space with a cowgirl, a saucy pirate wench, a proofreading fairy (she's wearing a tutu and a t-shirt that says "I'm smarter than you"), and a short, female Mr. T. It's awesome...
Halloween is actually the best day of the year for science-fiction fans. It's the only one when you can dress in an outlandish costume, adopt a persona that's the exact opposite of your own, and not worry about people thinking you're strange. And speaking of the science fiction/Halloween connection, here are a couple of suggestions if you've not yet carved yourself a jack o' lantern for tonight:
A couple months ago, I added a new stop to my daily tour of the InterWebs, a site called English Russia. It's a photoblog that documents the strange, beautiful, sad, and sometimes -- like the image above of subway "team sleepers" -- humorous aspects of life in the Russian-speaking countries. The photos and occasional videos are described in English so you'll know what you're looking at.
I find this site fascinating -- I grew up during Reagan's tenure in the White House, when the Soviet Union was the Evil Empire and Russians were mysterious, faceless villains lurking in the dark corners of the world. After the Berlin Wall came down and the USSR imploded, it was if a whole other planet had been discovered, and I went through a phase of intense curiosity about the former Soviet nations. I wanted to know what the landscape looked like, what life was like over there, what the people really thought about things instead of what propaganda had always told us they thought. I even bought a Russian watch and a set of defunct coins, thinking they might be worth something some day. The idea that something as huge and intractable as the US-Soviet rivalry, a paradigm that seemed to my teenaged mind as eternal as the stars themselves, could evaporate almost literally overnight was bewildering to me. If only I'd had access to this web site back in 1990!
Here are some of the recent entries that have caught my interest:
Another major milestone for the Mars Exploration Rover Spirit: today is its 1000th "sol" (i.e., Martian day) of operation. The Martian day is slightly longer than a 24-hour Earth day, so that plucky little skateboard of science has actually been running for about 1028 of our days. Recall if you will that it was originally intended to function for only 90 sols. I think the taxpayers have gotten their money's worth on this project.
The image above (which looks like a postcard from Southern Utah to me) is a 360-degree panoramic view of the hilltop where Spirit has been perched with its solar panels tilted toward the sun as it waits out the long Martian winter. As always, click the picture for a larger view. Details on the image as well as what Spirit has been up can be found in this press release, and a hi-rez version of the photo is here.
Here's a public service announcement for any local bibliophiles who may be reading my humble blog: The Great Salt Lake Book Festival is now underway at the beautiful Salt Lake Main Library. The Festival's director, Rebecca Batt, is an acquaintance of mine, and it looks like she's done a fine job this year. The schedule for the next three days is packed with interesting speakers from the Western literary scene, including the novelist Ivan Doig, nature photographer and writer Stephen Trimble, graphic novelist Dave Sim and artist Gerhard (the creators of the monumental work Cerebus), and Steve Hendricks, a journalist who has just published what sounds like a very intriguing book on the way the FBI derailed the mid-70s movement for American Indian rights. Also on hand are Salt Lake's favorite Jeopardy champ Ken Jennings and Betsy Burton, the outspoken advocate of independent booksellers and co-owner of The King's English bookshop.
For those, like me, who probably won't be able to attend in person, a number of the author lectures will be broadcast on KCPW, a radio station that's headquartered at Library Square on 88.3 FM, 1010 AM, and, of course, over the Web. Should be some good stuff going on... check it out!
If you haven't yet had enough of those wacky Japanese commercials -- and really, who could ever have enough Japanese commercials? -- check out the Top 20 Japanese ads as compiled by High T3ch Magazine. (Actually, the compiler acknowledges that only 12 of the 20 are from Japan, but they're all Asian, at least...) Our old buddy Sparkly Ah-nald is there, as is a very amusing appearance from the Dark Lord of the Sith and a version of Ronald McDonald that actually makes me want to eat at McCrappy's. But the really notable clip comes in at number three; it's a Korean ad built around making you think you're seeing something you're not actually seeing, but depending on your constitution (or your employer's Internet policy), you may still find it somewhat, um, well, embarassing, if not downright offensive. It's a fine piece of visual innuendo. Enjoy!
I've been obsessively investigating that bizarre commercial I posted yesterday. I just can't get it out of my head... it's like some kind of neural weapon, I swear, a psychological virus that's probably going to turn me into a sparkly-eyed, maniacally laughing zombie any moment now. My co-workers should beware...
Before my painful transmogrification begins, however, I'd like to quickly note what I've learned. For posterity, you understand, in the hope that any future sparkly golden zombie plagues can be avoided. My research indicates that the future Governator was shilling for some kind of Japanese energy drink in this clip, a substance called Arinamin V, which is like a turbo-charged version of Red Bull or something. According to a Japanese blogger named Joi Ito, this is what's going on in the ad:
Arnold Schwarzenegger in Arinamin V's commercial. He is playing mah-jong with important guests. He does a huge faux paux by winning the round when he should have let the guests win. His boss scolds him. Then he sneaks off to a corner, drinks the special drink while the customer is telling his boss the deal is off. Suddenly, as the drink takes effect, Arnold is transformed into a glittering entertainer and the guest is showered with mah-jong score counting stick and everyone is shouting and cheering.
It's pretty common knowledge that American celebrities who wouldn't stoop to doing TV ads here in the States frequently go to Japan and collect big paychecks for a day's work and a little video endorsement there. (You may recall that the wonderfully moody film Lost in Translation used this conceit as a premise to drop Bill Murray down in the middle of Tokyo.) I suppose the stars in question figure that no one will ever see commercials made for a market half a world away, so there's no risk for their professional dignity. Poor, foolish actors... obviously they never counted on the power of the InterWebs! These days, it's ridiculously easy to find commercials that actors like Ah-nald probably wish would stay hidden. There's an entire site dedicated to them, Japander.com (although everytime I visit Japander, it seems to crash my Firefox browser, so be cautious if you click that link). And of course, there's YouTube, the biggest repository for pop-cultural detritus ever invented. I've used YouTube to to dig up several more Japanese TV commercials starring two of my favorite actors. I present them to you now, for your Wednesday viewing pleasure:
I don't speak Japanese and about all I know of that ancient culture is what I've picked up from Godzilla movies, but I can't imagine this commercial would be any less terrifying to the average Japanese consumer than it is for this gaijin:
I'll probably be seeing golden sparkly stuff in my dreams for weeks... arg!
(For the record, I spotted this little wonder of weirdness this morning over at The Bleat.)
Tragedy! According to an article in the LA Times, Union Products, the company that has been churning out 250,000 plastic lawn flamingoes a year for just under a half-century, has shuttered its factory due to rising production costs. The company's president, Dennis Plante, and the creator of the kitsch icon, Don Featherstone, are looking for another company that may be interested in acquiring the molds, but there's no deal yet.
I'd better inform my mother. She'll want to horde a few sets of the silly things, just in case...
Wired.com is reporting that scientists at Johns Hopkins have had encouraging results in an experiment involving stem cells and rats stricken with ALS, a.k.a. Lou Gehrig's Disease, which is a degenerative neurological condition. The scientists injected stem cells into the spinal cords of the rats; not only did the stem cells develop into functional nerves that linked to the rats' existing nervous system, but the new cells also resisted the disease until the rats died.
You may recall that I've had some first-hand experience with this disease. I'm realistic enough to know that we're still a long way from any kind of stem-cell therapy for ALS, let alone a cure, but this is nonetheless a very, very welcome development. I'd like nothing better than to see this shit eradicated in my lifetime...
Here's another thing that I'm way behind the curve on, that Web site that everybody was playing with a week or so ago that will tell you how many people in the U.S. have the same name as you:
I took the day off work yesterday so I could hold The Girlfriend's hand while she underwent a minor surgical procedure. Okay, I wasn't allowed to actually hold her hand during the procedure, but I was out in the waiting room the whole time. Well, except for when her mom and I ran over to Village Inn for a quick plate of eggs and bacon with a side of pancakes. But we were there when the doctor came looking for us to tell us we could go see her in the recovery room, and that's what counts, right? In any event, she's doing fine, thanks for wondering.
Later, finding myself with a free afternoon and nothing better to do, I decided to drop into Beans and Brews for a Starbucks-style coffee-and-milk beverage and an hour or so of recreational reading. The particular Beans and Brews I visited is just down the street from a high school, and, as school had just let out for the day, the place was crowded with gangly, gawky young men dressed in their unofficial uniforms of baggy jeans and dark-colored hoodies, all eager to get their daily caffiene buzz on. I slipped through their gauntlet, bought a mochaccino, and found a sofa to settle into with my book.
I'd been reading for a few minutes when I suddenly heard Steve Perry belting out "Don't Stop Believin'." This was a bit puzzling because the coffee-house's PA system had been -- still was, in fact -- playing some anonymously mopey rock song that I couldn't name if you held a gun to my head. I looked around to see who'd brought in a competing music-player... and was surprised to see one of the hooded teenage boys pulling a cellphone from his pocket. The kid was using a song that had charted before he was even conceived as his ringtone. I grinned, thinking to myself that there might be some hope for the future after all.
Then the in-store music switched to an artist I recognized -- Warren Zevon -- and I overheard the young barista telling his friends to listen to the amazingly cool song that was just starting. "I just love this one," he said, "It's called 'Werewolves of Thunder'."
Doh.
I turned my attention back to my book and tried not to feel smugly old...
I'm ten days late in mentioning the following items, but I was busy last week and I figure somebody out there might not have heard about them and would appreciate getting the word. Besides it's my blog and I want to mention them, so there...
Just in the last couple of hours, the population of the United States topped 300 million residents. About 2.5 million of those 300 mil are right here in Utah, and about 2 million of those are clustered along the Wasatch Front, i.e., the part of the state where I happen to live.
No wonder my commute sucks so bad...
FYI for anyone who may have been trying to reach me by e-mail yesterday: my ISP had some kind of outage and was out of commission for a good part of the day. Because my personal e-mail account is web-based and hosted by said ISP, I was unable to access my mail during the outage. The ISP is back up now, but I don't know if any messages got lost or not. If you tried to contact me and have had no reply, you might want to resend your message today...
Here's Scalzi talking about the choices one makes in the writing life:
...a Bennington grad won the Booker Prize this year, for a novel that is praised for "illuminating the pain of exile, the ambiguities of post-colonialism and the blinding desire for a 'better life,' when one person's wealth means another's poverty." Meanwhile, my [new] book starts with a chapter primarily about farting an alien to death. Would I have written a book with farting, had I gone to Bennington? And would it have won the Booker Prize? These are the personal alternate personal histories of my life. Be that as it may, two roads diverged in the woods, and I, well, I took the one in which intestinal emanations were used for humorous effect. And that has made all the difference.
And the Monday-morning laughter continues...
My good friend Cranky Robert, having read of the general suckiness of my life last week, has resorted to heroic measures to try and lift my spirits (in other words, he e-mailed me a joke):
Darth Vader: Luke, I know what you're getting for Christmas.
Luke: Oh yeah? How?
Darth Vader: I felt your presents.
Yeah, I know, it's a groaner, but it had exaxctly the effect Robert was going for: I laughed and smiled for what seems like the first time in days. Hope everyone else enjoys it, too.
Check out this photo that's been making the rounds of the blogosphere this week:
I've been in a pretty foul mood the past couple of days, owing to several long nights at work, too much caffeine, too little sleep, and a whole lot of minor stuff that usually wouldn't bother me too much, but, coming as it has during this most crappy of weeks, has been really irritating me. I won't bore you with any further details; suffice it to say that I feel like I've been dragged through a knothole sideways (one of my mother's quaint expressions) and I really need a break from the grim-faced, clench-toothed treadmill slog that my life has unaccountably turned into. (Some time to turn out a couple of decent-sized blog entries would be nice, too!)
Coincidentally (or maybe not), I've been listening to a lot of the music I loved back in high school but have somehow forgotten about in the years since. One of the old recordings that I've blown the dust from is Bob Seger's The Distance, which, as I recall, was one of my favorite albums back around my senior year (class of '87, for the record). I've been pleasantly surprised by how much I still like this one. It's a solid set of straight-ahead rockers and wistful ballads by an artist who was in his prime at the time of its recording. (Sadly, Seger's best years were over by his next album, the over-produced, over-slick, and badly dated Like A Rock; there are maybe four songs on that one that are still listenable these days, including the title track, which is actually a good song if you can get past Chevy using it as a jingle for the last decade or so.)
Any Star Wars fan worth his shipment of spice will, of course, recognize the tall, white object in the photo above: it's a moisture vaporator, a marvelous machine that pulls fresh water out of the very air and enables human life to survive on the desert planet Tatooine. Nifty idea, but it's just science fiction, right?
Apparently not... Wired.com is reporting that a company called Aqua Sciences has developed a machine that does exactly what Uncle Owen's condensor units supposedly did, and cheaply to boot (about 25 cents to the gallon, according to the company's website). Naturally, the first customer is the Pentagon, which has long sought a way to keep U.S. troops easily supplied with a sustainable water source while operating in arid places like Iraq.
The company spokesman quoted in the article is coy about how the thing works -- it's apparently got something to do with salt -- but the gadget is described as a "20-foot machine [that] can churn out 600 gallons of water a day without using or producing toxic materials and byproducts." In addition, the machine is not dependent on humidity, like other types of condensation-type technology. Very cool... the only thing I find disappointing is that the actual units look more like ordinary reefer trailers than anything Luke Skywalker ever tinkered with. Ah, well... that's the curse of being a science-fiction fan, I guess: nothing ever looks as cool when it's finally invented for real as it did when it was imagined in the movies.
Several of my daily-read blogs have been linking to the "Letter from Iraq" published on Friday by TIME.com. If you haven't run across this yet, go check it out; it's definitely worth a minute of your time.
The letter is a series of observations from an anonymous Marine officer who pulls no punches in describing his life in the middle of the war zone. Although I'm sure both sides of the poltical spectrum here at home can (and will) try to spin this to support their views, the letter itself, read in its entirety, strikes me as remarkably non-partisan, honest, revealing, and, ultimately, quite moving. It is also, in places, very funny:
Most Surreal Moment — Watching Marines arrive at my detention facility and unload a truck load of flex-cuffed midgets. 26 to be exact. We had put the word out earlier in the day to the Marines in Fallujah that we were looking for Bad Guy X, who was described as a midget. Little did I know that Fallujah was home to a small community of midgets, who banded together for support since they were considered as social outcasts. The Marines were anxious to get back to the midget colony to bring in the rest of the midget suspects, but I called off the search, figuring Bad Guy X was long gone on his short legs after seeing his companions rounded up by the giant infidels.
Most Profound Man in Iraq — an unidentified farmer in a fairly remote area who, after being asked by Reconnaissance Marines if he had seen any foreign fighters in the area replied "Yes, you."
As far as I can tell, this letter -- unlike some of the supposed "real stories of our troops" that float around in e-mail form -- is for real.
Among our various robotic minions currently exploring the solar system is a vehicle called the Mars Reconaissance Orbiter (MRO). As its name would suggest, the MRO is circling the red planet, mapping the martian surface in greater detail than ever before. It's also taking some spectacular photographs with its on-board high-rez camera, including the one below, which Phil Plait of the Bad Astronomy Blog calls "the best Mars picture EVAH" (i.e., ever, for those who don't speak Hipster):
There is a particular sound effect that's known to movie buffs as "the Wilhelm." You've undoubtedly heard it: it's a high-pitched male scream, kind of a "yaaaa-haagh!", typically heard when someone meets a violent death like tumbling off a cliff, being eaten by some giant creature, or being run over by a truck. The sound is quite old, dating (according to most sources) to a 1951 adventure flick called Distant Drums, but these days it's best known as a running gag in the Star Wars films -- it is heard in all six of them, as well as the Indiana Jones and Lord of the Rings movies. Those movies only use it once or twice, though; Ben Burtt and his proteges apparently don't want to overdo a good thing.
Whoever did the sound effects for the movie Them didn't share this modern sense of restraint. I watched the classic horror flick tonight -- if you don't know the title, it was the first of the "Big Bug" cycle of the 1950s, those cautionary tales about the unforseen consequences of atomic testing coming back to literally bite us -- and I counted at least half a dozen instances of Wilhelm. It got to where it was kind of distracting, actually, and that made me wonder if modern movie fans are maybe a little too conscious of the technical stuff. Surely an audience in 1954 wouldn't have noticed that so many giant-ant victims issue exactly the same squeal as the die... or would they?
If you're curious about this distinctive effect, here is a page about its history; go here for a list of movies and other media that have used it.
As I've noted before (repeatedly), I'm a big fan of Superman: The Movie, Christopher Reeve's debut as the iconic character. The three sequels in which Reeve appeared, however, are another story. I was so unimpressed by Superman III that I haven't seen it since its initial theatrical run way back in 1983, and I've never gotten quite drunk enough to endure Superman IV: The Quest for Peace, which is reportedly about as much fun as licking razor blades edge-on.
As for Superman II, well, it isn't too bad, but even as a relatively uncritical kid I could tell that something was off about it. It just wasn't as, well, cool as the first one.
Just got back from lunch and a brisk afternoon walk around the mean streets of SLC. Saw something that gave me a chuckle as I passed the stinky bookstore and thought I'd share.
In the shop's window, among the antique steel cans of Miller Beer, the Godzilla toy, and an ancient, crumbling Book of Mormon held together with a red ribbon, was a pair of recently published but used hardcovers standing side-by-side. A hand-lettered sign tucked between them made the following offer:
"Ann Coulter's Treason $7. Living History by Hillary Clinton free with Coulter book."
Is this someone's gesture at political balance? Or just an observation about what sells in Utah and what doesn't?
For those who may be interested, I've dug up some more information on that DVD of Trapped by the Mormons that I mentioned last night. It looks like it's been assembled by a small indie label (not unusual in the world of silent film, which is obviously a niche market that the big boys wouldn't profit from) using 16mm source elements (there's no known surviving 35mm print of this title). Blaine Gale recorded the score at the recently restored Peery's Egyptian Theater in Ogden, Utah, rather than The Organ Loft, but the DVD includes a Thomas Edison short with a score by Blaine that was recorded at The Loft.
You can order this DVD here, if you're so inclined. Click through to view a list of the specs and extras...
In case anyone out there is keeping track, I just passed 1,000 book titles on my LibraryThing catalog, and I still have several boxes to go. I don't know whether to be proud at the expanse of my collection, ashamed at the amount of money I've spent over the years, or depressed that I've read so few of them...
One of Salt Lake's hidden treasures is this nifty little place called The Organ Loft, a monument to one man's hobby that his family maintains for the benefit of local film lovers. So the story goes, Lawrence Bray fell in love with the sound of the pipe organs that once provided musical accompaniment for many old-time silent-movie theaters and, beginning in the late 1940s, he started acquiring components of these old organs as they were scrapped out of Salt Lake moviehouses. He assembled them in his uncle's chicken coop, adding onto the building several times over the years as his instrument grew. Today, that much-enlarged (and improved) chicken coop is The Organ Loft. Owned and operated by Lawrence Bray's nephew, Larry, it is one of the few venues in this country, and probably in the whole world, where you can see a silent movie in something close to the way our great-grandparents must've experienced it.
I shouldn't say anything, because I know that political entries never bring happiness to anyone, least of all me. But I've been reading all about this developing scandal surrounding Representative Mark Foley and his messages to Congressional pages, and I want to make sure I fully understand the situation. So, let's review:
Courtesy of Evanier, here's a fun little item for fans of classic cinema: someone has edited all of Alfred Hitchcock's cameo appearances in his own movies into a four-minute video clip...
We get a lot of strange weather effects here in the Salt Lake area, presumably because we live at the bottom of a giant bowl that's enclosed by mountain ranges to the east and west. Incoming storm fronts usually either squeeze through a narrow aperture between the mountains at the south end of the valley, or they blow in from the northwest, across the Great Salt Lake. Once the storms enter the valley, the prevailing winds tend to drive them into one mountain range or the other, where they pile up and expend their energy as they try to climb over the obstacle. And this in turn often generates some spectacularly weird stuff up there in the sky.
FYI, I had some weird Internet problems all weekend, so I was unable to post several political entries that I had in mind as follow-ups to the previous one, or to respond to the comments left on "Disgusted" until this morning. I'm thinking that's just as well; I really don't want to continue mulling such an incredibly depressing and dangerous development when there's so damn little I can do about it personally. At least until election day, when I'll make my usual futile gesture in the name of good conscience (i.e., voting blue in the most overwhemingly red state in the union; it's like spitting into the wind, but I'll do it anyhow).
In the meantime, let us think of more amusing things. Things like a list of the Top 176 Star Wars Lines Improved By Replacing A Word With "Pants". As you can imagine, many of these have naughty overtones, and a few cross the line into outright tastelessness, but hey, there's nothing wrong with that, right? Here are a few of my favorite examples:
- "Chewie and me got into a lot of pants more heavily guarded than this."
(Hmm... talk about taking your friends everywhere with you.)
- "I cannot teach him. The boy has no pants."
(I can see how that might be a distraction.)
- "I sense the conflict within you. Let go of your pants!"
(What every teenage boy says to his girlfriend at least once in the course of their relationship. Most often heard at drive-in movie theaters midway through the second feature.)
- "I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your pants."
(Aww, how endearing.)
- "Alderaan is peaceful, we have no pants!"
(Ah, yes, Alderaan was a happy place back in the day.)
The number-one item on the list is, predictably, "I find your lack of pants disturbing."
Indeed we do. Indeed. We do.
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