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I Have Seen the Future

This is kind of incongruous, coming as it does on the heels of yesterday’s remark that I really don’t like living here in the future, but I was somewhat excited this morning to have my first in-the-wild encounter with one of those Kindle electronic-book gadgets everybody’s been talking about. It was in the hands of a well-dressed older woman sitting a few rows ahead of me on the train.

And why, you may be asking, would a self-confessed semi-Luddite late-adopter like myself be thrilled to glimpse a device that signifies yet another step away from my precious Way Things Used to Be? Well, partly it was just the novelty of actually seeing an object that I’ve heard so much about but which has been, up until now, only an abstraction. That whole experience of “oh, there’s one of those things!” That’s always fun. But what really pushed my buttons was a fleeting sense that I’d somehow stumbled into a Star Trek episode. Seriously. Even though I’ve seen plenty of photos of the Kindle (obviously, since I identified it easily enough; I even recognized it as a Kindle 2 instead of the earlier model), I’ll be damned if my first thought wasn’t, “Hey, that woman is looking at one of those thingies Picard was always using on Next Gen!” I’ve been saying for years that the world seems to be inevitably becoming more like Star Trek; here we have another piece of evidence in support of that theory.

So, to review, I don’t like living in the future because I’m a nostalgic bastard who prefers the past, but I was excited to see a futuristic device because it resembled a prop seen on a 20-year-old television show that was set… in the future.

Yeah, I’m confused, too. Welcome inside my head.

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Missing from the Roster

Mark Evanier lists those who were not included in this year’s “in memoriam” video at the Oscars:

Patrick McGoohan was in some pretty good movies and George Carlin was in more than you might think…but neither was included. Nor was Eartha Kitt. Nor was composer Neal Hefti. Nor were Harvey Korman, Earle Hagen, Mel Ferrer, Alexander Courage, John Phillip Law, Irving Brecher, George Furth, Beverly Garland or Guy McElwaine. There were several studio execs and one publicist included but not Bernie Brillstein.

 

But the startling omission, of course, was Don LaFontaine, who not only became a superstar of movie trailers but also served as the announcer of the Oscars several years.

I noticed LaFontaine’s absence myself and thought that was deeply weird; I honestly did not remember that many of the others Mark mentions had died in ’08. I wonder why people get left out of these things? I imagine there are time constraints that prevent the listing of everybody who passes on during any given year, but what determines whether someone is worthy of inclusion? It can’t be because the missing stars aren’t big enough. Lots of people would know Patrick McGoohan, George Carlin, and Harvey Korman, surely…

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Pin-Up Therapy

Sometimes, when everything is grim and the world is going to hell around you, the best thing to do is just try and regress back in your mind to the age of about fifteen or so. I find that looking at pretty girls helps (specifically, non-trashy-douchebag-loving girls). If there aren’t any real, live pretty girls in the vicinity (or if they all happen to be of the TBL variety that was infesting the mall yesterday), I tend to prefer some old-fashioned pin-up art, the sort of thing that goes by the name of cheesecake or “good girl art.” Here’s a nice example I picked up in my blog-reading:

Valkyrie by Gene Gonzales

I have no idea who this character is — she apparently comes from a comic-book called Airboy, which I am totally unfamiliar with (although it sounds like the sort of thing I’d probably groove on) — but I like the drape of her jodhpurs. This sketch is by Gene Gonzales, via Michael May. Gene’s got a lot of other fun pieces over at his blog, including a nifty refutation of George Lucas’ odd notion that there aren’t any foundational undergarments in his far, far away galaxy…

Ah, girls. I feel better now…

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Crappity-crap Crap Crap Crap…

So, I met with my tax preparer this morning, and, well, the results weren’t pretty. Let’s just say that if I ever try to offer you financial advice, you’d be wise to simply smile, pat me on the head, and back away slowly.

Afterward, as if I hadn’t been demoralized enough by getting a thorough bitch-slapping from Uncle Sam, I headed over to Fashion Place Mall to buy a belt. I wasn’t looking for anything fancy or wanting to make a statement, I just needed something to hold up my pants. Should’ve been a snap, in and out in ten minutes, right? One would think so. One would be quite wrong.

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2009 Oscars “In Memoriam” Tribute… Now With Less Annoying Camerawork!

For anyone who was annoyed with the way the “in memoriam” montage was handled on this year’s Oscar broadcast, here it is as it should’ve been done on TV, with no annoying cutaways or zooms:

I thought it was nice they included Vampira, who was hardly a big star outside of cult-film circles but was beloved by those who like that sort of thing.

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Ode to a Morning Lost

Have you ever come slightly awake early in the morning — not fully conscious, just somewhat aware of your surroundings — and known that everything is just perfect: The sheets are smooth and soft beneath you, not tangled for a change, the room temperature and ambient light levels are optimal, and you don’t even have the urge to pee. After a moment, you begin to sink back into a deeper layer of sleep, like a U-boat that’s popped up for a look around and is now submerging into the cool, quiet darkness, and you can sense that you’re experiencing the most restful, contented sleep you’ve had in weeks…

And then the bloody alarm clock goes off and sends your heartrate into the stratosphere.

Yeah, that was how I started today. I’ve had a headache ever since.

Sigh.

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Not-Quite-Live Blogging the 2009 Oscars

An acquaintance of mine told me a few days ago that he had no interest in watching the Academy Awards because it was always the same old thing. Or, as he more colorfully described it, “Guy in tux wins something, gives awkward speech; next actor and actress come up and awkwardly recite some boilerplate stuff before announcing next winner. Lather, rinse, repeat.” Another guy I know boycotted the show this year because the nominees “never reflect the tastes of real people.” (He was pissed that The Dark Knight wasn’t up for Best Picture. Little tip for the uninitiated: The Return of the King notwithstanding, science fiction, fantasy, superhero, and horror flicks have no chance of ever winning in the “major” categories. They’re just not taken seriously enough by enough people. I suspect the reason ROTK won was less a recognition of its quality than of the sheer massive effort that went into filming the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy. And of course I’ll never forget or forgive tedious and unfunny Annie Hall beating Star Wars back in ’77. Grr.)

Personally, I like the Oscars, even in those years when I haven’t seen many of the nominated films. Actually, I think I might enjoy them a little more when I don’t have a horse in the race, so to speak, because then I’m not feeling competitive and I’m free to simply enjoy the self-indulgent spectacle. That doesn’t mean, of course, that I like every year’s show equally. Some years, they just don’t work very well…

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Nothing Is Original… Especially in the Blogosphere!

I’ve never seen a Jim Jarmusch film, and frankly his stuff doesn’t sound like anything I would enjoy — I never have developed much taste for artsy independent cinema that “breaks many conventions of traditional Hollywood filmmaking”; I happen to like traditional Hollywood conventions, thank you — but I did find the following Jarmusch quote interesting:

Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.”

Authenticity as opposed to originality. Makes sense to me. I knew at an early age that much of Star Wars was ripped off from Flash Gordon serials, Dune, and Isaac Asimov’s Foundation stories, and yet somehow those elements recombined into something wholly new and, at least before it became a brand instead of merely a movie, terribly exciting and pleasing.
This quote was happily yoinked from Roberson’s Interminable Ramble… which handily proves the point, if you think about it.

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