I'm moving today and therefore have little time to internet, or little access to internet.
Sorry.
To make up for it I've included a photo of a raccoon riding a wild boar.
If I had a quarter for every time I saw that, I'd probably look at that photo numerous times over. Because I don't expect to see it happen any time soon.
Let me know if you have any refrigerator moving tips.
So I went to Trader Joe's for the first time today.
Right now you're probably amazed that I got this far in life without trading at Joe's, or you're asking what the heck a Trader Joe's is and where you can get one. Well, my friend, Trader Joe's is an establishment where you exchange money for goods and services, mainly in this case, groceries. What I'm trying to say here is that it's a grocery store. And I went there to get groceries.
When I say groceries I mean numerous bags of Edamame. So many bags in fact that my love for Edamame appeared to rival that of Mel Gibson's love for paperback copies of Catcher In the Rye.
After questioning my obscure reference to the 1997 film Conspiracy Theory, I made my way to the checkout counter, but on the way I wanted to exchange the gallon of milk I picked up for a fresher carton.
You see, I grab the milk first because I usually forget it. The problem is that by the time I find everything else, the milk is already warm and I prefer to bring home the coldest milk possible. Yes, even if it does heat up in the car. So I returned to the dairy section.
The problem was, the milk had suddenly been restocked and perfectly positioned back into place. My arms were full of Edamame, so my milk replacement was poorly executed and awkwardly placed.
Suddenly, from the other side of the wall, a strangers hand reached out and repositioned the milk into a proper position. Then, just as mysteriously, the hand retracted and disappeared into the unknown. Surprised and slightly confused, I quickly stepped back and tried to mentally proccess what just happened.
The shelves were small and tightly packed. I had simply assumed that there was a solid wall behind them. So the sight of an arm reaching out towards me from a mysterious portal momentarily changed my perceptions about the structure of our universe. In fact, at that very moment, Narnia, Hogwarts, and the entire Tolkien universe became suddenly and magnificently real. They actually existed. And they existed just beyond the 2% Milk section.
For that moment I could reach past the skim milk and cottage cheeze and find myself outside of the Matrix. But realizing I wasn't dressed to wake up in a mechanical pod filled with jelly and tubing, I instead decided to check out.
That's not just a picture of barley. That's a picture of SPACE barley, which is just like regular barley, except it's meant for space. Apparently Japanese brewery Sapporo Holdings is working to gather enough "space grain" to make a hundred bottles of the stuff.
Yes, the hope is that someday "space agriculture" will be advanced enough that astronauts will be capable of making beer in their very own "space bathtubs." Given that it appears that the only required process to make something ready for space is to just place the word "space" in front of it, I think the goal has nearly been realized.
What exactly does this mean? I honestly have no idea.
But if we have drunk drivers here on earth, why not on the final frontier? I like the idea of looking up at the stars at night and saying, "I bet there's someone up there so totally wasted they can't even stand straight." And considering that these drunks will be in a zero gravity environment, that doesn't even matter.
Who knows, maybe someday drunken space voyagers will stumble out of their spaceships and hit on a race of Alien lifeforms, entertaining them with space-lampshades over their heads while they dance on a space coffee table. Sure, it'll all be fun and games until they break a space vase and doom the human race to complete annihilation. But up to that point, man, what a party it's going to be.
Things I thought were bugs, but weren't upon closer inspection.
A feather sticking out of my pillow. A speck of dust that floated in front of my monitor. A strand of hair that just barely wavered on my peripheral vision. A flower stem that creeped up my windshield. A walnut on the sidewalk that I thought was a cockroach at night. A loose thread on my pajama bottom that stuck to my foot.
Listen. Today we're going to talk about the best movie ever made. No, I'm not talking about your Citizen Krap, I'm talking about Dragon Wars, the greatest epic since Dead or Alive. Now, I don't really remember when Dragon Wars was released, but last night when my roommate drunkenly requested we rent either My Super Ex-Girlfriend or Norbit, I had no expectations about viewing a masterpiece.
Luckily, beforehand I had prepared a pound of pre-shelled Edamame for my roommate Norm and I to share. Shortly afterwards Norm and I realized exactly how much a pound of beans actually is, and ended up slightly nauseous and confused. This, combined with a tad bit of alcohol, essentially resulted in a viewing experience so good I can't even remember it.
I'm not going to lie to you. I didn't actually watch Dragon Wars. I was there for the beginning, definitely there for the end, took a shower somewhere near the middle, and also checked my facebook shortly after the shower. The parts I did watch were pretty solid though. I mean, I was falling asleep, but I imagine they were great.
The story I could put together was that a young journalist was assigned a story relating to a natural disaster, which could only be explained by a giant Dragon War. Luckily, the journalist remembered that as a young child a middle-aged man, which he refers to as the "old man," confronted him in a store and explained how he must overcome the Dragon War by finding the ancestor of the Dragon War princess. Or something. There are lots of Dragons, this is, after all, a Dragon War.
The film throws a great surprise into the mix by betraying my expectations and instead of chronicling a war between good and bad Dragons, instead opts to chronicle the human war against the Dragons. So although this War does involve Dragons, it's not so much a Dragon War as it is a War against Dragons, a War against the Dragon War even. Where the crap am I?
After our protagonist finds Sarah, the Dragon War Dragon Princess human, things really start to kick up a notch I think. She does, after all, have the Dragon War Dragon Princess tattoo on her shoulder, which demonstrates how she is indeed the chosen one to end the Dragon War. Dragon War.
Somehow, after the climatic battle on top of a skyscraper in LA, the Dragons take our Dragon WARriors to a castle somewhere, and then have a SECOND climatic battle between two dragons. "FINALLY!," we each exclaimed in our confused stupor, "We have a DRAGON WAR on our hands!"
So, yes, the only thing more confusing than watching Dragon Wars is how you end up watching Dragon Wars. And the only thing more confusing than that is trying to figure out what the heck happened during the Dragon War itself. The result? Easily the best dollar rental my roommate ever got. Ever. And that includes the time he came home with The Hot Chick, starring Rob Schneider.
Despite the fact that I have the distinct feeling this was all staged, I'm still going to argue this was in no way a bad idea. Now if you'll excuse me, I have millions of Lego pieces to stick together.
There are a lot of things I can't do. Most of them are in Grand Theft Auto, the rest are simply inconvenient. For example, hang-gliding while wearing moonboots, a frilly scarf and throwing puppies into the sky with miniature parachutes attached to them. That one is hard to achieve, specifically trying to tie hundreds of parachute packs to individual puppies and then trying to train them to open the chute in time. Goals like that are absurd or at the very least very messy.
But there are some things that I can't do, but should be able to. Specifically this:
An In-N-Out burger.
It looks delicious, enticing, and possibly even erotic. I just want to eat it. The problem is, every time I've gotten In-n-Out recently I end up taking one bite and then render myself physically unable to swallow. I can eat the fries, I can drink the coke, but if I take a single bite of the actual sandwich my body refuses to take it down. It's torture, and incredibly awkward considering I only discovered this with the cheesy, meaty, morsel already in my mouth and apparently no way to get rid of it except to slowly swallow it one bit at a time with a confused and slightly uncomfortable look on my face. Is this too much information? I don't know what you said so I'm going to continue.
Anyways, I went to In-N-Out yesterday while taking a pet fish for a walk. Moments later I found myself with a bite of animal-style cheeseburger in my mouth and no where to put it. This was a minor impairment to my social interactions, which already are completely impaired. So basically I just looked lost. At least Colin Farrell, (the fish) seemed to enjoy himself.
Well, yesterday evening I arrived in LA, clapped the dust off my hands, and claimed this land for my own, just like the pioneers did when they landed on Lewis and Clark. Yes, my friends, I have arrived. And surprisingly I'm not dead.
So I was in LA for no more than twenty minutes before I came across a group of lone Dinosaurs standing menacingly over the highway. I had no choice but to stop. After taking a few pics, a man approached me with a camera and said he had been waiting all morning to see someone and to, I assume, take pictures of them taking pictures of themselves with giant dinosaurs. Needless to say, anyone who likes dinosaurs is already a friend of mine. He gave me his card and explained he was from the LA Times, a really great guy named Glenn Koenig. I asked if he wanted me to do anything, and he explained just to keep taking pictures as if he wasn't there. Surprisingly it was harder than it sounds. This is one of those pics:
So if you'd like to see me, I'm on page B6 of the LA Times.
When I say article I mean my photo with a caption. The best part about this whole experience is that my picture is featured on page B6 of the LA Times without any context whatsoever. It's just me, taking a photo with a dinosaur. Next to the photo is a story about poverty and below it is a story about a series of shootings in the valley.
It was a good day, and a perfect welcome into the city.
I promised I would upload video of my trip so far, well, here it is. You'll have to forgive the poor quality:
OH SHOOT. I think there was some kind of frantic YouTube mix-up. I'm really, really, sorry about that. Really.
I'm doing great. Really.
Man, shoot, I hope my parents didn't see that. But you have to admit, that car crash scene was really rather extravagant. I mean, wow. I think that guy's head went THROUGH the trunk of the car. Incredible.
Here's the real video:
I have to admit something. I can't upload the video until I'm in Cali with my desktop. So until then just imagine really nice things, like adorable Japanese kittens with big eyes.
New Mexico is great. Right now I'm in a La Quinta Inn relaxing in an air conditioned room. Today I tried to go to a Dinosaur Museum off of exit 332, but it was closed and all I ended up seeing was a Dinosaur Museum employee smoking cigarettes behind a dumpster with a Triceratops painted on it. Maybe that "was" the exhibit. The world may never know.
Other than that I visited the town of Memphis Texas, which appears to be completely abandoned. I'd say it's easily one of the coolest places I've visited, mostly because it was so easy to imagine it covered in zombies.
But really, things have been great. Thank you to everyone for all the prayers and help.
If you've been wondering why my posting has been rather sporadic, it's because I've started my cross-country trip to California. Today I drove my way from DC to Nashville Tennessee, and now am resting for the night in a cozy Ramada Inn nestled between the freeway and a wedding chapel.
I'd say this place is an easy 10 on the classiness scale. Sure, you get to drive up to your room, but how many of you have a massive hot-tub inside of your living-room? None, that's how many. Okay, maybe one or two. But it's new to me. Needless to say, I can't wait to bring my future wife here someday.
I'll upload a video of my journey once I get where I'm going, in the meantime you should take solace in the fact that I only hit the "panic" button on my keychain once, and that was by accident while I was in the parking lot.
This is really the best someone could come up with.
A ropeless jump-rope, an object which negates itself within it's very name. Is there any reason this should exist, rather that just be replaced by, say, a rope? Or something to jump over several times in a row?
Now if you'll excuse me, I have my own exercise routine to take care of...
Did you catch those lyrics?
Skip It Theme Song:
Hey now kids come gather 'round. See what just skipped into town. But the very best thing of all is there's a COUNTER ON THIS BALL. So Skip it. Skip it.
Genius. Now I just need to get that friggin ball counter to work right.
View Trailer Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian **---
The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian requires little introduction. I know this, you know this, the film even knows this, and so they quickly wisk the central characters into the fantasy land of Narnia with very little delay. So why is this adaptation of the classic children's series two and a half hours long? I'm not really sure. I guess there's a lot of fighting going on, but to be honest I hardly remember any of it.
The fact that this children's series is considered such a literary classic is perhaps this film's greatest hindrance. Character introductions abound with beat pauses long enough for people in the audience to gasp and whisper. When individuals make their appearance they are basked in a lighting that clearly tells us how we should react. While this interaction with fans of the book is all well and good, meanwhile the rest of us, who never got past Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader, are left in the dark wondering what all the fuss is about.
In that sense I would consider this the ideal illustration of Christianity within the context of a film, perhaps more so than the Passion of the Christ. Here we are presented with the character of Aslan, the lion, whose mercy and sacrifice serve as direct symbols of Christ and whose very presence stirs awe from Narnians and, more importantly, from certain members of the audience. But the film is strangely uninvolved and bland. When I was given the initial image of Aslan I thought, well, that's a big effing lion that can also talk. But to the children in the audience, those that read the books and understood the character already, the digital manifestation of Aslan drew applause.
The film seems to miss the very point that the story of Prince Caspian is all about, and the audience would be most interested in. Narnia, as presented, has changed over the course of a thousand years since the last film. The luster of Aslan's sacrifice has diminished along with his disciples, the kings and queens of Narnia. The movie appears to neglect the fact that characters within the movie, and within the audience, don't know exactly who this Aslan is. Yeah, we can tell he's a big effing lion, but there's clearly more to him than that. The film never expands on this premise. As a result, Aslan becomes nothing more than a last minute plot device. He becomes the deus ex machina, the equipment for which god intervenes last minute rather than the God he is meant to represent.
Is it entertaining? Yes and No. The scribes here have apparently decided that the central characters had enough development in the first film, and have instead opted to just give them swords and let them duke it out. The problem is this, and primarily, only this.
The Chronicles of Narnia lacks both tone and mood.
Harry Potter understood the transition from light fantasy to dark introspection. Lord of the Rings understood it's epic journey through the gritty darkness of the heart and war. The Chronicles of Narnia seems to miss the fact that it has a perfect place to fit in either as a childlike fantasy or as a fun adventure. This could have been the next Princess Bride, or the Goonies with religious influences. But they missed the mark. Instead we have a two and a half hour kiddie "epic" where the battles are drawn out and bloodless, and the female centaurs have the decency to cover themselves. The characters are shallow and could easily be replaced by the posterboard I saw in the hallway. I just didn't care.
The best part? Was the trailer for Wall-E
This and the new Batman are going to ROCK MY WORLD.
Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian **---
The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian requires little introduction. I know this, you know this, the film even knows this, and so they quickly wisk the central characters into the fantasy land of Narnia with very little delay. So why is this adaptation of the classic children's series two and a half hours long? I'm not really sure. I guess there's a lot of fighting going on, but to be honest I hardly remember any of it.
The fact that this children's series is considered such a literary classic is perhaps this film's greatest hindrance. Character introductions abound with beat pauses long enough for people in the audience to gasp and whisper. When individuals make their appearance they are basked in a lighting that clearly tells us how we should react. While this interaction with fans of the book is all well and good, meanwhile the rest of us, who never got past Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader, are left in the dark wondering what all the fuss is about.
In that sense I would consider this the ideal illustration of Christianity within the context of a film, perhaps more so than the Passion of the Christ. Here we are presented with the character of Aslan, the lion, whose mercy and sacrifice serve as direct symbols of Christ and whose very presence stirs awe from Narnians and, more importantly, from certain members of the audience. But the film is strangely uninvolved and bland. When I was given the initial image of Aslan I thought, well, that's a big effing lion that can also talk. But to the children in the audience, those that read the books and understood the character already, the digital manifestation of Aslan drew applause.
The film seems to miss the very point that the story of Prince Caspian is all about, and the audience would be most interested in. Narnia, as presented, has changed over the course of a thousand years since the last film. The luster of Aslan's sacrifice has diminished along with his disciples, the kings and queens of Narnia. The movie appears to neglect the fact that characters within the movie, and within the audience, don't know exactly who this Aslan is. Yeah, we can tell he's a big effing lion, but there's clearly more to him than that. The film never expands on this premise. As a result, Aslan becomes nothing more than a last minute plot device. He becomes the deus ex machina, the equipment for which god intervenes last minute rather than the God he is meant to represent.
Is it entertaining? Yes and No. The scribes here have apparently decided that the central characters had enough development in the first film, and have instead opted to just give them swords and let them duke it out. The problem is this, and primarily, only this.
The Chronicles of Narnia lacks both tone and mood.
Harry Potter understood the transition from light fantasy to dark introspection. Lord of the Rings understood it's epic journey through the gritty darkness of the heart and war. The Chronicles of Narnia seems to miss the fact that it has a perfect place to fit in either as a childlike fantasy or as a fun adventure. This could have been the next Princess Bride, or the Goonies with religious influences. But they missed the mark. Instead we have a two and a half hour kiddie "epic" where the battles are drawn out and bloodless, and the female centaurs have the decency to cover themselves. The characters are shallow and could easily be replaced by the posterboard I saw in the hallway. I just didn't care.
The best part? Was the trailer for Wall-E
This and the new Batman are going to ROCK MY WORLD.
I was really confused though because nobody mentioned to me that now they have televisions installed up on the ceiling now. This is so that you have something to look up to while you get to be poked at by sharp metal sticks in your mouth. I was also really confused when the nurse handed me the remote and told me to turn the television to whatever channel I wanted.
It was too much pressure. It was bad enough being judged for my inconsistent flossing, now I have to be judged on my taste in what to watch. This is DAYTIME TELEVISION lady. My choices are limited to programs featuring quality slightly higher than that of infomercials and slightly lower than that of public access television. Our options go as far as the Worlds Most Mind-Blowing Cop Explosions to Super Serious Hospital Drama with people staring at each other for indefinite amounts of time.
So i tuned the TV to my old stand by, the best game show ever, TEMPTATION.
For those that don't know, Temptation is only "the new sale of the century." I don't know what that means, but it HAS to be important. Inspired by the online shopping mall of the same name, Temptation pits groups of three women against each other in a series of questions vaguely related to facts you could find in US Magazine. All this is done while a guy with slick hair yells "Can I TEMPT you?!" while waving cash at the contestants.
The show creatively has it's own currency system of "Temptation Dollars" which luckily makes it next to impossible to win the car, the same car which I think has been on stage since the game's inception.
Basically, Temptation is that claw machine at the fair with all the really cool prizes jammed in the back. You know no one will ever make it, but you can't help but watch them try.
So I watched them try while I had the plaque scraped off my teeth.
When I was looking at these someone else in my art class mentioned it reminded them of a music video. The only problem was he couldn't remember which one.
Taking a random guess I said, "Take On Me," which, miraculously, it was.
INT. 5,000 FEET UNDERNEATH THE NEVADA DESERT - NIGHT
The evil scientists congregate inside the super-secret conference room, which also for some reason has an evil hologram of the Death Star.
Super-Evil Scientist: "Gentlemen! The summer solstice approaches, and with it the hearts and minds of a thousand women!"
Evil Scientist 2: "And how to you plan on harvesting these so called 'hearts' my lord?"
Super-Evil Scientist: "Not just their hearts, but their wallets as well. I have devised a scheme so vile and evil, no man could ever challenge it's brilliance. Evil brilliance, that is."
Evil and Gay Scientist 3: "Oh do tell!"
Super-Evil Scientist: "We will produce a romantic comedy about two naive single New Yorkers who travel to Vegas and end up married."
Evil Scientist 2: "But my lord, I think that has been done."
Super-Evil Scientist: "Yes... but did I tell you that they end up winning THREE MILLION DOLLARS and then must remain married for six months to collect the earnings?!"
Evil Scientist 2: "No, but I think that also has been done before."
Super-Evil Scientist: "Yes, but has it been done with... ASHTON KUTCHER and CAMERON DIAZ?!!"
Evil Scientist 2: "Actually-"
Super Evil Scientist uses a death ray-laser-panther and kills Evil Scientist 2.
Less-Evil Scientist: "You couldn't possibly expect this to work?!"
Super-Evil Scientist: "And why not, I ask? Let's say for example we throw in some mildly amusing gags involving peeing in sinks and Ashton Kutcher being hit in the nuts?"
Less-Evil Scientist: "But sire! Those jokes couldn't possibly hold up on their own out of the context of a trailer!"
Super-Evil Scientist: "Of course not, but by the time the audience is inside the theater it will be too late."
Less-Evil Scientist: "It couldn't possibly work."
Super-Evil Scientist: "Did I mention the movie will also have... QUEEN LATIFAH?!"
The Less-Evil Scientist falls out of his chair.
Less-Evil Scientist: "MY GOD! My God, you're MAD!!"
The Super-Evil Scientist looks out a window even though he's 5,000 feet underground.
Super-Evil Scientist: "Mad? Perhaps. Perhaps... But one thing is for certain, by the time this film is released the world will be ours for the taking!"
Less-Evil Scientist: "I hope you're wrong..."
Super-Evil Scientist: "I know... BROTHER. And that is why you must... DIE!"
I remember watching an episode of the Simpsons with my brother Nick. This was back at a time when all they ever showed were the good reruns, in fact, this was a time when there was no such thing as a "bad" episode of the Simpsons at all. I was sitting on the carpet, and I looked up to the television in time to see a trailer for Starship Troopers. That was when my brother said "we have to go see this." It may not seem like a long time ago that Starship Troopers was released into theaters, for me it certainly doesn't, but the reality is somewhat striking. Starship Troopers, the heavily laden special-effects extravaganza, was release on November 7, 1997. As of now that makes it roughly eleven years old. I was nine at the time.
1997 was the stone age. There was no such thing as the "internet," fat Star Wars kid still had a future, and lolcatz still could haz all the cheeseburgers they wanted. Furthermore, The World Trade Centers were still standing, Columbine was a place in Colorado no one had ever heard of, and the only snipers around were kids with bee-bee guns. So who cared if I got a ticket to go see Starship Troopers? Sure, I still had to sneak into the theater close behind my (at that time, future) brother in law, but it was no big deal. It's not as though any reviews had been posted online for anyone to reference.
So when I saw the images of a young soldier shot in the head and his exposed brain matter splattered across a landscape, I wasn't quite sure how to take it, apart from looking down at my popcorn. Nor was I sure how to mentally process the severed limbs, disemboweled corpses, melting soldiers, let alone what was going on with all that nudity.
Basically, I didn't know what "awesome" was yet.
Clearly, my brother in law's friends did, and they didn't help much afterwards with their somewhat crude reflections concerning the film on the ride home. Reflections which were hilariously more disturbing than the event itself.
I can't say I was disturbed by Starship Troopers, but I can say that it served as a perfect preparation for what was to come over the next ten years. For better and for worse. As mentioned earlier, the world has become a far different place since the bug-blasting action movie was released. It's experiences like mine, in which "children" are exposed to the horrors of entertainment, that are now retrospectively blamed for massacres and terrorist acts. Our society has attempted to end violence by regulating what we can decide to participate in. We have taken censorship to the level of science, correcting "chemical imbalances" to lower our anger, depression, and excitement, until we are left numb, with nothing but Novocain in our heads. A cure worse than the disease. Have we reacted in the right way? Which was more disturbing to me, the fact that sick people were doing bad things in this world, or the fact that I was told they did bad things because they liked the same movies I did?
This past week I watched Starship Troopers for the first time since I was nine years old. In some ways, it has certainly aged. People of the future seem to use computers with the processing power of a current calculator. In other ways, it has surprisingly remained ahead of it's time. Especially in concern to special effects, which have even been recycled in trailers for direct to video sequels to the 1997 film.
Then, amazingly, Starship Troopers has improved, like a fine wine. It's cynical satire on wartime propaganda films is still what it was eleven years ago, but it's commentary on wartime politics is almost disturbingly prophetic. Starship Troopers tells the story of a military that declares a war against a foreign enemy after an attack hits home. Given, this foreign enemy happens to be a planet inhabited by giant bugs, but the human military makes the strangely familiar mistake of underestimating the enemy and beginning a war that has no perceptible end in sight.
The characters, although wooden and interchangeable, have a striking value system in which the primary virtue is to die, preferably by the hands of a comrade, in the midst of battle. It doesn't matter how useful or meaningful the battles are, just as long as they keep killing bugs. The primary criticism of the movie is that there really is no degree of human involvement, we're dealing with people as empty as their bullet casings. But unintentionally or not (most likely unintentionally) it improves the film's argument, of war not just being hell, not just something inhuman, but something un-human. It's something out of this world.
I loved Starship Troopers more now than I did when I was nine. In fact, strangely, I feel as though it's something I would have imagined on my own and would have tried to make today. Well, maybe not in exactly the same way, but I still connect with it.
Of course, I'd never take my kid to see it. But then again, I don't want any kid to have to watch Dora the Explorer, or have anything to do with the Disney Channel, or go the other route and have television outlawed altogether. I'd probably give my kids the same upbringing I did. We'll watch old episodes of Animaniacs. Reflect the moral lessons we learned from Batman: The Animated Series. And then maybe I'll get to top it off with old reruns of Simpsons. Of course, only the good ones.
Movies might take a similar course. But then again, if I see something cool come up sometime, who knows. I might neglect to check the review.
Documentaries were practically invented for music, and the same could be said in reverse. While a projected screen can serve as a forum for performances, it can also take the viewer behind the scenes and even at times, take a journey into the psyche of the performers themselves. But only a great documentary can take that personal experience and turn it into a beautiful allegory for life itself, and Young At Heart is a great documentary.
Stephen Walker follows the Young at Heart Chorus, a performance group who specializes in classic rock and pop song covers. Their selection of tunes is diverse, ranging from Sonic Youth, to Coldplay, to James Brown. But it's not the songs that set this group apart, it's the fact that all the performers are senior citizens, with an average age of 81.
Age serves as an unparalleled catalyst for action, as one member of the group puts it, and I paraphrase, "No one gets out of this world alive." While the Young at Heart performers have performed overseas in the presence of royalty, the goal remains the same. Learn the songs, be able to perform the songs, and just keep on living. But they don't just survive, they live for the music. As such, they prove themselves to be real, true musicians, perhaps more so than the artists they cover. Though their voices have been limited, their age gives them a sense of poetic justice.
It's the souls portrayed that set this film apart from other documentaries, not the documentary itself. While the film making is generally solid, it's the characters and people that make it what it is. Stephen Walker, who narrates and performs interviews, could easily be interpreted as a bit melodramatic, but to be frank, it's clear that he has no idea what kind of a story he is in the midst of. It needs no introduction, requires no extrapolation, these people are real and that's why we love them.
Yesterday was my last tennis class, and guess who I got to play with...
That's right, my French friend Fromage! Apparently he was in another tennis class and decided to go to mine to make up a day he missed.
Luckily he didn't make me feel worse about my ineptitude of the French language, and we instead decided to resolve our differences where it really mattered, the TENNIS COURT. Instead of exchanging witty one-liners we instead exchanged red-hot serves, which literally exploded into flames, just like NBA Jam for the Sega Genesis, except more tennis.
It was a close one, but I managed to get my team on top by strategically letting my parter hit all the balls for me. The plan worked flawlessly, as long as Fromage didn't hit the ball directly into my direction. Despite a couple mess-ups on my part, the Fujisarasaki Clan (what I silently named our team in retrospect) claimed the win.
After the epic battle, which also involved a CGI army of warrior Gnomes, Fromage and I wished eachother the best and parted ways. It was a bittersweet parting, but I have a feeling we'll meet again someday when we least expect it.
Today I saw a blind man strolling through campus using a walkingstick and talking on his blue-tooth cellphone at the same time. And I thought, now there is a confident American.
Now I'm not one to judge a blind person, but I would like to point out this man's unbridled hardcore personality traits. Here is a man who reserves the right to use a walkingstick, yet completely negates it's purpose by listening and talking to someone through a cellphone attached directly to his ear. Yes, I understand walkingsticks also provide the means to "feel" around areas. But I figure the day I go blind I'm going to cherish the few senses I have left and leave my calls on hold until I get to safety.
But who knows? I thought. Maybe this guy is the ultimate multi-tasker.
But as I watched him stroll from the sidewalk, into the grass, and towards a fountain, I decided it would be best if I left and let YouTube handle this situation.
These are pictures of my life-sized self-portrait I had to make for my life drawing class.
It's a lot tougher than it looks, all I used was a mirror and I couldn't really bend down, look at myself, and get my feet that the same time. But I managed (mostly with some strategically placed waves). Still, I like it.
Also, it kind of looks like I'm wearing eye-liner. ha, yeah, heh, I definitely, um definitely wasn't wearing THAT while I was drawing. Ha, ha. No siree! No eye-liner for this guy! excuse me...
You can imagine the sheer number of dangerous roof-top scenarios that the above picture got me into. After all, how can you convince someone holding a gun that a somewhat closely resembled silent image of you isn't the REAL Zack Newcott? Right answer, you can't. And now only I, Zack's evil self-portrait remains! MWAHAHAHA!!!
can you see the windmills?
Mmmmm... desert plain
My Teeth, If I Was A Woman and Had Great Teeth
I Only Regret I Didn't Kill More People
Which one is the real me?! I don't know. Looks like you'll just have to shoot the both of us...