A New Home...For Now

I'm trying out Apple's .Mac service because I'm fascinated by their iWeb application that allows for impressive looking blogs and such with a very user friendly environment. So, for at least the duration of the 60 day trial, I direct your attention to this website.
Enjoy!

The Tops...

Finally, three months into this new year, I'm going to finally announce my favorite films of this past year...Well, the top 10, anyway...
So, in lieu of more exposition, here she is:

1. Pan's Labyrinth - The most beautifully haunting film of the year, and also the most violent. Such a strange combination is what makes this film work so incredibly well, because it is what makes the end all the more enchanting.

2. Little Miss Sunshine - This was the best family film of the year. In spite of its R-rating, its a film that speaks to every person on this planet who questions their own self-worth. A worthwhile film for everyone to see.

3. The Departed - Its a fun, thrilling actioneer that never lets up on the tension, not even until the very last, shocking scene. Just a fantastic film.

4. Stranger Than Fiction - It's heartwarming, and its funny, and it does make you think, but not so much that your head spins. It knows its audience, and it plays to them. Will Farrell is his usual fantastic self, with a supporting cast that makes film-going a dream.

5. Children of Men - Brilliantly shot and directed. It takes an okay script and raises it to levels of sheer cinematic genius. The car chase and the final action set piece are possibly two of the most thrilling shots ever filmed. Period.

6. The Prestige - Twisty, dark and beautiful to behold. Nuff said...

7. Marie-Antoinette - Another win by Sofia Coppola. Beautiful in every frame, and mesmerizing in its directorial vision. Never has 80s punk been so cool.

8. V for Vendetta - Fun, thrilling, and thought-provoking. Full of those great "goose bump moments" that make movie-going so much fun.

9. Inside Man - Spike Lee does mainstream, and boy is it a treat. Clive and Denzel are fantastic together, and Jodie Foster being enigmatic is incredibly fun. A great bank-heist thriller with some pretty fun twists.

10. Casino Royale/Mission:Impossible III - Yes, a tie. I know... but these two spy flicks both managed to succeed in outdoing their predecessors, but they also knew how to thrill. J.J.'s directorial debut was a treat to behold (thank you Ms. Russell), and Daniel Craig's moody Bond was one of the best surprises of the year. We finally got a Bond I could respect, and Alias: The Movie...Who could ask for much more?

Other Notable Films: Dreamgirls, The Devil Wears Prada, United 93, Apocolypto, Nanny McPhee, Talladega Nights, World Trade Center, Nacho Libre

Of Formalities...

Today I had an odd experience while buying some snacks at my university's commons area. I noticed while standing in line that the cashier who was checking people's items out kept calling her customers by name. I've seen this done before, mostly at a particular grocery store back home, but I never quite took to it. I dreaded the moment I got up to the line, knowing darn well that since I was paying with a debit card that she could steal a glance at my name on the card, and then proceed to mention it as I parted ways. I was not wrong in my assumption, and to be perfectly honest, it put a huge damper on the whole transaction.

In a perfect world, though, such niceties would be appreciated. We obviously live in an increasingly cynical world where people rarely make any sort of contact with one another on a regular basis, so wouldn't such a gesture indicate a glimmer of hope? Well, in this blogger's opinion, no. I'm all for being courteous at the checkout counter. I usually say "Hi" as I approach, and then when I leave, I usually respond to the cashier's "Have a good day" with an equally as sincere "You too." I'm completely comfortable with this sort of communication between the helper and the helped. I feel like the girl who checked me out (what a phrase) wasn't even remotely sincere in her declaration. Saying my name isn't going to keep me from buying my salted cashews and Snicker's bars elsewhere. Considering the gigantic monopoly my school has on food while I'm at work (as in, I can really only buy my break items there, so I really have no choice), I guarantee I'll be back to buy more junk food items.

I don't know. I sound jaded. My roommate will certainly tell you that I'm a curmudgeon for loving the notion of the "Metro Face" (the face that most Parisians carry about their person when riding on the Parisian subway system, or Le Métro, which is usually a look of deep Parisian melancholy, with eyes full of longing...It's actually very cool), because I've never been big on being conversational with strangers. He loves it, but that's a conversation for another time. I need to do a bit of research on this topic to really ascertain how others feel about it. I just found it creepy, plain and simple. As nice a thing she might have believed it to be, it really turned into something unbearable. I dreaded our transaction, because I knew it would involve a level of insincerity that I can barely handle.

Small talk has always been a beef of mine, which is why Metro Face is so entertaining for me. Small talk reeks of insincerity. We do it simply because social conventions require us to never let a silent moment pass between two people confined to a certain space. I can agree that awkward silences are just what they claim to be -- awkward, but that's no excuse for the fact that sometimes, we just don't need to connect. I've stated in previous posts just how much I love big cities, and the connection that is palpable, especially when riding on the local transit. Even when all of our faces are clearly in Metro Face mode, there is something going on that is unspoken, but is clearly at work between each and every person on that bus/subway/trolley. There's no need to speak, and the loud noises that whichever mode you are currently riding makes certainly don't allow for easy conversation. We are apart of a larger whole, and we get that, and its a beautiful thing. Why must we feign interest in someone else's existence in order to make ourselves feel better about a certain silence that really shouldn't bother anyone? It just feels ludicrous to me. I love talking to people. Anyone who knows me knows that I love to talk anyone's ear off who will listen, but I draw the line at strangers, especially strangers in passing.

I don't think I'm totally right on this matter. My roommate is perfectly happy talking to random people, and he loves having random people talking to him. I'm pretty convinced that he would love to have someone say his name at the checkout counter. Feel what you will, but I just might snap the next time I hear someone say my name while scanning food. But, not in a crazy way... I just might write another post... Heaven forbid...

The Life of Pi

Today while driving with one of my housemates, I noticed that he had a copy of Yann Martel's (il est un québecois!) The Life of Pi. He told me to read it, because the very thought of it (the book's story) bored him to tears, so I gladly took it. Its actually not his copy, but some girl he knows' copy. So, I'm borrowing it from someone else who's borrowing it from someone else...
In any case, I'm stoked to finally read it, as I've heard its nothing short of fantastic. I like what I've read so far, so maybe I'll keep whoever reads this posted, so they too may venture into this world.

John August

Writers and those who love writers take note:
A freakin' rad website has come to my attention... www.johnaugust.com

It's written almost daily by a produced screenwriter appropriately named John August, whose works include Go, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Big Fish, Corpse Bride and a few more less than reputable films (but, hey, he's doin' better than I am). His most recent film The Nines, was a selection at Sundance, where it earned raves and also distribution. He wrote and directed that one, in case you care....

What I dig most about the site is his insight into not only the business of screenwriting, but the craft as well. Film students should take notes on his "How to Write a Scene" entry, and especially his "How to Write Dialogue." I'm just fascinated by his techniques, and equally as heartened to realize that he too struggled and continues to fine tune his craft. It's healthy to realize we may never be exceptional, but it's important to note that we can always at least try.
So, visit said website, if you have any interest at all in the craft of screenwriting (and yes, my dear naysayers, it is a craft, and it is one that does have to be fine tuned...)

Snarky comments aside, its a fun read for all who care to venture in that direction. Audiences should check it out to maybe get a better sense as to why we as writers try so desperately to surprise you, and for the most part, you deny us that with your reliance upon cliché. Get a glimpse into our process, and maybe you'll better appreciate how much we actually do care about what you think...

Enjoy!

John August

Snore....

I fell asleep during Battleship Potemkin yesterday.
Yeah, I know...
Maybe I'm completely reading this wrong, but shouldn't I be ashamed of myself? Me, a film student, falling asleep during THE quintissential film from Soviet cinema? I see it as wrong, but I also don't seem to care that much. It was a great nap, and I was able to catch up after a long night, so I really couldn't care less. But still! A part of me is reeling from the fact that I have the ability to fall asleep during any movie you put me in front of. Any movie. Whether or not I like it or not, I'm out like a light, usually within the first 15 minutes. In the broad scheme of things, I suppose the first 15 is the best place to fall asleep, if one had to fall asleep, but there is always that "what if" factor that informs me that I could very well be missing something great.
It's been a problem for years, actually. I remember my first year of college, taking an Intro to Film class, and falling asleep during EVERY movie I watched (except two, The Apartment and Wait Until Dark, but come on! Those are impossible to sleep through!). Ever since then, I have no choice half of the time. I just fall asleep. Annoying, is the word that frequently comes to mind. I should be studying these films intensely, trying to better understand the history of cinema, etc. etc. but man!
Anyway, I think no matter how hard I try, this will always be a problem. I'm chroniclly tired, no thanks to my current lifestyle, and I fear I'll never be able to catch up (the film world requires 14 hour days for months at a time....Yeah....).
Oh well.

Artist of the Week...

Sufjan Stevens -

Good accoustic music nowadays feels like a dime a dozen. Over done and over played, certain artists like Jack Johnson, John Mayer and many others often get the most recognition amongst this group of musicians. Don't get me wrong, I really dig Jack Johnson (his laid back surfer attitude reminds me of home, and his Curious George soundtrack is more fun than one should have with a children's movie), but one can't help but feel inundated by the amount of times his songs are played on the local Top 40 station. If we branch out outside of the norm, we can find some real gems. Among them is local favorite Benton Paul (check him out if you haven't. A-freakin'-mazing...and it isn't because I know him personally...), the always brilliant (and soon to break-up) Nickel Creek, and this week's Artist of the Week, Sufjan Stevens.

I first got wind of Sufjan when I learned a song of his would be used in a film I was working on this past summer. The song, a Christmas one, had all the makings of a great piece of accoustic coolness, so I had to find more of his stuff. Turns out, he has had some mild success. His song "To Be Alone With You" was featured on one of the many "The O.C." mixes, and a few of his songs were featured on the "Little Miss Sunshine" soundtrack. But, as is the case with many great artists, that is only the tip of the musical iceberg. To get the full Sufjan Stevens experience, one must check out his full length albums.

Stevens has since previous dedicated himself to the notion that he wants to write an album based on each of the 50 states of the union. Interesting prospect no doubt, and so we see that two of his previous albums fall along those lines. "Come on Feel the Illinoise" and "Greetings From Michigan" are albums full of a variety of songs, each with very very long titles. It makes for a fun experience to listen to the full album, because it often takes as long to listen to the song as it does to read the title.

Now, Stevens is releasing a Christmas album, full of some of the most interesting Christmas remakes and originals, including the song featured in our film. I was able to download the album (legally) a while back ( it was previously only made available to family and friends, but Sufjan leaked it to several websites for mass releasage), and I'm enjoying it thoroughly. He plans on releasing a new Christmas album each year full of these same witty pieces. His sense of humor is evident in his choice of instruments for each song, and also in how he reworks the titles.

Follow the link below for a better glimpse into his world. His humor runs rampant on the website of his record label, Asthmatic Kitty Records, and so a brief glimpse is definitely worth a look-see.

Asthmatic Kitty Records

Of the Rhythms of the City...

As a hopeless romantic, I find myself completely in love with big cities. The class and culture that they exhibit is nothing short of amazing to me, and I long for their urban embrace. I think big cities represent to every romantic the place where all things are possible. There's a pretty good reason why most films take place in large cities as opposed to small towns; good stuff is always bound to happen.

My love affair with the metropoli of the world started with New York. "Friends" and "Seinfeld" introduced me to the idea that great friends and romance was certain within its limits. You've Got Mail further confirmed that New York was merely a small town on a large scale, a quaint community of people where connections were never that far away. Love was inevitable for Kathleen Kelly and Joe Fox, so by means of assumption, love is inevitable to all who sought after it.

Baz Luhrmann begged radio listeners in 1999 to:

"Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard;
Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft."

Having already lived in and left Northern California, it's only natural for me to want to balance the equation. My soft milk chocolate center needs a hard candy shell.

My love affair continued to expand as I took my first trip to Chicago in 2002. Here, the landscape of the modern American city was first introduced to me. I rode my first subway here, commuting with the people of the city as if one of them. There was a rhythm that they had. They moved about the streets and subway stations as if they were maneuvering a limb; naturally and gracefully. I wanted so badly to blend in and become just another Chicagoan. My toursity eyes most likely gave me away, as I was in constant awe of my surroundings, but I did my best. For a brief moment, I think I became one with the streets, criss-crossing them like a seasoned pro. The buildings overshadowed me, and for the first time, my apparent grandeur was greatly reduced to nothing. I was humbled by their size and presence, and it changed me forever. Sears Tower still remains the highest building I've ever been in, and while a mild waste of time, the view from the top was spectacular to behold. Here I felt the pulse of the city, seeing on a grand scale exactly how things moved. I was awe struck.

A year later in 2003, I had the immense privilege of moving to Paris. While in height and size, Paris cannot compare to the cities of America, Paris became so much more than a simple tourist hotspot. I naturally did all of the necessary tourist attractions, taking in as much as I could. But soon, it wasn't about that. Soon, Paris became about the side streets, the metros, the trees in the fall, winter and spring, and the people. While I still stood in awe many many times of the great cathedral of Notre Dame in the heart of the city, or of the lights of the city as I stood on Pont Neuf overlooking the Seine, there was a different kind of beauty that I saw while sitting on my balcony each night, sipping herbal tea, and just taking deep breaths. I remember those moments almost more vividly than those I spent in the Louvre, or on the Eiffel Tower. I remember the sounds, the smells, the chill in the air. Paris has a rhythm, much like Chicago, and I could feel it on those nights. I could see it from my balcony, with cars passing every second without fail and people still enjoying the sights at ten o' clock at night. Our balcony overlooked several restaurants , and when spring hit, and those tables were moved outside, I was privy to one of the most fantastic of sights in Paris: the café . My balcony soon became front row center to the most fascinating anthropology experiment I've ever conducted. Watching people eat and drink became hypnotic and amusing.

The metros served as another place to experience the people. So much can be said about the mass transit system in Paris. It's effective, yet consistently crowded. It's rare to ever sit down, and its also rare to never have to shove your way out once you have to leave. More often than not, you are shoved in between a mass of 25 people, each with distinctive body odors, whether its cologne, perfume or nothing at all. Human contact is inevitable while on the metros, and that's what gives it its charms. In the city, we sense that loneliness and a feeling of being lost would most likely consume us as we walked the crowded streets. But, I never felt that while in Paris. I felt a part of something bigger than myself, and I felt that each person I made physical contact with in the most arbitrary ways was a part of that something as well. There's a uniqueness to the urban touch that cannot be felt in smaller towns, and while strange and uncomfortable, I sometimes wish I could have it back.

I can't explain my feelings in the manner that is most convincing. My experiences in Chicago, and most importantly in Paris have led me to believe I was born to live a city life. I never felt more at home than I did while I was living in Paris. I still refer to it as my hometown, because I've never experience more separation anxiety with anywhere else that I've lived. I cried like a baby when I had to leave, and it was like pulling teeth to get me to stop talking about it after I had. My heart beats to the same fast paced rhythm that exists in these cities. I get a thrill from walking quickly down a crowded street, or from running onto the loud buzzing subway train, squeezing tightly between two larger people. I love how after time, the sounds of the streets become silent, and all you hear is your own thoughts. You grow to ignore the noise, and you learn to embrace it.

I long to move to New York. I have since I could remember. I will move there. It's inevitable for me to eventually find myself on the streets of Manhattan. It's where I belong. I see myself married there, married to a woman equally as in tune with the city streets as I am. I see ourselves frequenting the opera or the symphony at Lincoln Center, or the hot new show on Broadway. I see us dancing slowly at a dimly lit jazz club. I envision all of this because I cannot shake it. I cannot see myself living in a house in the suburbs. I only see myself in a Brownstone, kids in tow, and a beautiful wife to boot. It may all sounds unrealistic and completely outrageous, but I refuse to dream moderately. Such an idea is almost an oxymoron. How can we ever expect to hit the target if we never aim high?


So this is my wish, to one day feel the rhythm of the city again at my feet. I feel like a piece of me is missing since I left Paris. I'd give anything to return there and feel what I felt once again, but realistically, that may not happen. New York, however, can. While as of now it is uncertain whether I'll find myself enamored with it as I was once with Paris, I cannot sit idly by and assume that I won't. As someone once said, "You get what you settle for", and I can't resolve myself to give up hope that a life more full is available elsewhere. For if we have no more to hope for, than we certainly have nothing to live for.

I'm Sorry For This...

I could not stop laughing when I saw this...Seriously...Call me terribly insensitive, but you have to admit...It's pretty ironic...

And we all thought Wii was an unfortunate name...

Of Hellos...

While on my way home this morning from class, I happened to run into the normal barrage of people who I know from my apartment complex on their way up to campus. This happens every morning, simply because there's only two ways to get to campus from where I live, and so, naturally....You get the point. Anyway, my problem with this daily occurrence stems from my insecurities when it comes to saying "Hey" properly. The first person I saw, I barely said a word to; the noise on the street made it impossible to hear anything, and I didn't even notice that she was trying to talk to me until we passed, and I caught a noise coming from her mouth. So there you have Awkward Hey #1. My hope at the time was that it would remain the only Awkward Hey of the day, but alas, as was expected, I would experience two more....
The second Awkward Hey was the most awkward of them all. It's the one that inspired me to write this post in the first place. The wet and cold day we're experiencing had me naturally placing my hands in the pockets of my coat, and they were rather comfortable there. I noticed up ahead a person I knew fairly well, and I wanted to acknowledge him, and try to atone for the sins of the previous Awkward Hey. My mind was racing trying to come up with the best means to say "hey", when suddenly I lifted my hand out of my pocket, and did a low wave. What ever compelled me to perform such a ridiculous motion is beyond even my comprehension. I mean, really, what did I intend to accomplish with such a gesture? It was as if I was performing some strange Jedi mind trick on him, forcing him to say "Hey" in return. I knew he'd acknowledge me, because that's just the sort of person he is, so why did I need to awkwardly wave my hand like that?!? In any case, that was Awkward Hey #2, the most awkward of them all.
Awkward Hey #3 may or may not be considered awkward. This one was a simple nod and a smile, as opposed to any foolish words. While I didn't do anything stupid outright, I could have possibly offended her by not saying anything, which is probably the greater sin .
But, my real question today is, what constitutes a proper "hello?" I'm pretty certain it's dependent upon the situation, but how can one avoid even the most awkward of hellos? Is there a surefire way to extinguish the problem?
Let's ponder this for a moment: Guys, in general, tend to not acknowledge people in a very warm manner. The common accepted greeting among this sex is the grunt and nod. I consciously abstain from the grunt and nod, because it looks both ridiculous, and slightly epileptic. I think that this is what gets me into trouble. The grunt and nod, while sometimes resembling a mild case of Tourette's Syndrome, might just be the least awkward means of saying "Hey" to fellow men. As far as women go, females never seem to have problems saying hey to one another. I did see "Mean Girls", so maybe there is much more going on inside than out, but it all seems so cuddly and gentle. They're usually louder and more spirited, and they tend to have much more physical contact than guys (i.e. hugs).
But, what happens when the two collide? Males and females, each with their own set of rules, trying desperately to acknowledge casually and quickly the other's presence.... This is where the Awkward Hey comes into play (that's the second time I've rhymed that today! The Awkward Hey...)...How can it not? Unless there is an established bond of friendship (like a serious friendship), then there's no easy way to say hi. For me at least, I frequently think upon the girl with which I'm about to have contact with's current relationship status. If it is known, the Hey is affected according the situation. If she's taken, the Hey is more sheepish and awkward, mainly because I feel like I'm intruding somehow by acknowledging her...If she's not available, and I'm not interested (which is usually the case), I tend to be warmer, and more open.
Luckily, I think, girls have a keen sense of understanding when it comes to guys. They thankfully don't expect the same contact that they receive from their "girlfriends", and thus we are saved from ever having to resort to loud giggles and an excess of hugging. But, at the same time, I sense that they are longing for more. I guess that's why it feels awkward for me. They may be perfectly happy with a modified grunt and nod (usually consisting of a smile, and maybe some sort of verbal acknowledgement containing more than a syllable), but I get the feeling that they'd like to hug, maybe let out a good cry, or just laugh a little. Who knows....
Then, however, you have the cling-ies...the people who cannot accept a casually quick hello; the one's that just HAVE to stop and talk to you. While I have no problem talking to these people in a normal setting, there's something about it being on the side of the road that just makes me annoyed. Especially while returning home from work/school. Never is there any greater a time for me to not want to talk to people. I like to clam up in my bedroom, or watch a little "Frasier", ignore the world, and eventually crawl back into society...So, these sort of people are barely tolerable at times, and they represent another significant chunk of the Awkward Heys I experience.
So I wonder: Why can't we live like the French, where a simple Bonjour or Salut suffices in casual contact, or the even more fun bisous (the air kisses on the cheeks) for longer visits? I mean, really...What's the deal with our need to alter tradition here in the States, and establish such a primitive and meaningless method of communication? It's as if we don't want to talk to people, and by grunting and nodding, we feel we can escape this! Well, I say that we shouldn't, and that in doing so, we degrade our society one badly pronounced syllable after another. I denounce the grunt and nod. I abhor its wicked ways, and beg that we all do the same! Why must we play mind games with ourselves, desperately seeking the means to say just the right thing in just the right way? Why must we fear how others view our inability to offer up a collected and casual "hey"? Why must this be the way our country functions!?!?!?!?!?!
So, I say this in conclusion:
Here's to the Awkward Hey and all that it represents for a better, more enunciated America!

Of Artists and Engineers...

So, I was at Wendy's today, buying myself a lovely (and cheap) Jr. Cheeseburger Deluxe, when I spotted a classmate of mine, in line as well, and it made me think of this story, which is at the same time utterly pointless, and only slightly amusing...
So, today during my Humanities Discussion Labs (the names they come up with for Labs are mighty amusing here at the University Not To Be Named), we were discussing (okay, so the name DOES fit...) the poets of the Romantic era (Byron, Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth, Coleridge, etc.), specifically Wordsworth and Coleridge. Sadly, that fact has little to do with the story...I just wanted to write down the names of some of my favorite poets....What!?...Was it THAT distracting??!!!...
Anyway, we have class in the campus' art building (or the Music, Art, Theater and Film building), and our specific classroom is used for drawing courses. Well, we were sitting at the very same tables that many a artist have sat at and drawn at, and we noticed that our sleeves and hands and notebooks were getting smudged up with graphite and charcoal. We all moaned a bit, and I decided to shout out "Artists!", you know, in a very sarcastic tone. I also slammed my fists on the table, if you were looking for a visual... What I failed to realize, however, was that no one got the irony of my comment. No one in that class knows I'm an artist, and so all was lost on them. This brings me to the guy sitting next to me, the same fellow I saw at Wendy's... He's a musician, or in other words, an artist (if we're speaking Grammy-wise), and I think he took offense to what I said. My gut tells me that he didn't, but my voracious appetite for good copy for my blog tells me that he did, and that I will forever be the subject of many a glare. He's a bit smug, if you want my honest opinion, even if he holds no ill will towards me. He's got that typical Music major attitude of "Oh my life is hard cause they demand so much from us." Oh, give me a break. Talk to any Mechanical or Electrical Engineering major and they'll have more than a few whoppers to tell you! Freak. I deal with my roommate's (and Mech. Engineering major) whining about his class load, and junk like that. I get it. Trust me. Music is cake.
Which brings me to another point....Oh, how I wish I lived with a Music major!!! Seriously, smug artist over smug wannabe engineer, ANYday!!!!! At least with a fellow artist in da house, we could act smug together, debating the validity of both films and albums, and sticking our noses up at anything and everything we find unsuitable for viewing or listening....Oh, to be smug!
So, there you have it folks. My thoughts for this Friday. Tune in next time when I discuss the validity of films that none of you will probably ever want to see, and then I'll talk endlessly about classical music and the various (specifically the Freudian) interpretations of Coleridge's opium-induced classic "Kublah Kahn"... It's sure to be a hoot....

ciao
parker

Oh The Sweet Irony...

Gather round children, while I tell you of the best cover I've heard in a long while....
It's by Nickel Creek, who we all know and love, and it's them taking on...
No, I think I'll let you figure it out for yourself...
Anyway...
This song certainly put a sweet grin on my face, despite a pretty average day.
Sooooo....
Have fun!!!!

http://www.musiccherry.com/archives/13%20Toxic.mp3

(Be sure to turn up the volume -- it's a concert recording, so it's quiet, and what not...)

ciao
parker

Incubaka...

Many of you who know me know how I feel about the music that is Rock. My love for modern rock/alternative music was greatly decreased in 2001 by the band formerly known as Creed. I blame them, and them alone for my serious distaste for this genre. Around this time, I began seeking greater musical avenues, and I soon discovered the beauty that is Classic Rock, and I began to listen exclusively to that and that alone.
A dear friend of mine, however, has always found it necessary to criticize this love of mine. It's all in good fun, yes, but I must say that I've found it hard to heed her advice, and try to enjoy modern rock. She frequently mentions great bands that I proceed to listen to in iTunes or wherever, and usually, I'm disappointed. I can enjoy it, but I just don't get that same "umph" that I get with most Classic Rock.
One band, in particular, that she has pushed above all others is that of Incubus, so I will proceed to share my thoughts on this band:



Incubus is a band I can get behind. While their music isn't the kind of music I can constantly listen to, or even purchase a lot of, I have tremendous respect for them, and the institution they've managed to create.
Incubus is more than just a rock band, but a progressive rock band (in a very liberal sense of the phrase). They're the kind of band that refuses to be pigeon-holed in any specific genre of rock, and therefore, are always changing their sound. Most people have heard Incubus at one point or another, usually in the form of their biggest hit "Drive", or in other moderate hits like "Stellar" or "Wish You Were Here." What's most sad about this, is that most people haven't heard the REAL Incubus, because those latter songs make up only a small part of the Incubus library of music. They infuse rock and rap on many songs, many times defying standard rhythms to create something that will instantly be thought of as unique. Their lyrics are poetic and insightful, and superbly profound. They don't shy away from writing obscure lines and complicated melodies.
Sometimes they're extremely mellow, musing about love lost; other times, their lyrics pack a powerful political punch, and their message is all too clear. They're constantly trying to re-invent themselves, and therefore will never become stale.
The highlight of the music of Incubus is the lead singer, Brandon Boyd (center in above photo). His flawless vocals punctuate each piece with a melancholy beauty that's extremely rare in the rock genre. He lacks the nasal tones of punk rock, or the rasp growls of most alt rock singers; it's sweet, clear, and extremely beautiful. His range is unbelievable, and it's clear from one listen that his is one of the most talented vocalists working today.
One of my favorite aspects of this band is the inventive percussion. After watching some concert DVD's, I've seen how they handle the bongo portion of the songs, and it's quite cool. Just listen to the intro to "New Skin" off of their S.C.I.E.N.C.E. album, and you'll get a taste of this. I also enjoy the tasteful (take THAT Linkin Park) use of rap and hip-hop to heighten the rock experience. The scratches come at just the right moments, and the random samples are very well placed.
Now, you have to be wondering.... With praise like this, how come I said earlier that they're not a band I could listen to a lot of, or even purchase? Well, it's mostly because I just ain't as young as I used to be, and hard rock sometimes just doesn't do it for me. I find the more stressed out out I get, the softer and more mellow I want my music to be. On various occasions, music like Incubus has hit the spot, but I find that lately, the teenage-like angst that used to drive me towards hard rock just doesn't exist much anymore. But, don't get me wrong...I don't think it requires that certain kind of angst, or any angst at all in order to enjoy Incubus. I think I'm a rare breed, and I think that those who enjoy Incubus listen only because they relish in the aspects of the band I mentioned above. They are one of the most talented bands in music today. Compare, if you must, the garbage that is anything released by Hoobastank, or Creed with any album done by Incubus, and it'll become immediately clear that some rock can't and shouldn't be tolerated.
All in all, Incubus is a band that, according to conventional wisdom, should be a huge hit. From the intoxicating sounds and insightful lyrics, to the incredible vocals by lead Boyd, one would expect Incubus to frequently top the TRL countdown, or even Billboards charts. But, the beauty of it all comes down to the fact that Incubus manages to be known, and yet still unknown. While other bands "sell-out" and whore themselves out to the screaming girls of MTV's fanbase, Incubus remains a relatively unhidden secret. They're worth a listen, if you haven't quite had the chance. They're interesting and engaging, and, at least for me, that makes for a mighty fine rock band.

Brokeback...

I found this video semi-amusing...I'm surprised at how well they spliced the footage together to make it so, um, convincing...
Doc and Marty 4Ever!!! *sniff*



parker

Beatles Song of the Week...

A'ight, it's that time again. I almost completely forgot to name a song for this week, but thankfully, a little tunage this morning brought back the importance of this column to my readers. I get tons of e-mails calling for more recommendations from the greatest band to have ever walked this great earth, so in response to them, here is this week's song:


"Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da" - Lennon/McCartney
One of the reasons I absolutely worship The Beatles, is that they contain equal parts quirk and profound thought. "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" is a great example of quirk. The charming nature of the song recalls the almost unnecessary bizarreness of modern bands like Weezer and Guster, and that's totally okay. The song almost has a pre-school feel to it, being a song that children could sing, if only they had teachers with great taste in music (a rarity. Occasionally you get one, like my Junior English teacher, who's affections for Billy Joel and Bruce Springsteen were mutual with my own). It's instantly unforgettable after hearing it, and the chorus is tons of fun to sing along to. I especially love the line, "Life goes on, bra" for the simple fact that, it seems that The Beatles were the first to coin this lazy form of "bro." Interesting bit of trivia, I must say. So, in fairness to those who aren't familiar with this song (and no, having watched the TV show "Life Goes On" does not mean you've really heard this song...), here are the lyrics, and a link to amazon.com so you all can purchase the album:

Desmond has a barrow in the marketplace
Molly is the singer in a band
Desmond say to Molly, girl I like you face
And Molly says this as she takes him by the hand

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da,
Life goes on, bra
La la how the life goes on
Ob-la-di, ob-la-da
Life goes on, bra
La la how the life goes on

Desmond take a trolley to the jewelers store
Buys a twenty carat golden ring, (rin-ring)
Takes it back to Molly waiting at the door
And as he gives it to her she begins to sing (sin-sing)

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da
Life goes on, bra
La la how the life goes on
Ob-la-di, ob-la-da
Life goes on, bra
La la how the life goes on

Yeah, In a couple of years they
have built a home sweet home
With a couple of kids running in the yard
of Desmond and Molly Jones

Happy ever after in the market place
Desmond lets the children lend a hand
Molly stays at home and does her pretty face
And in the evening she's a singer with the band

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da
Life goes on, bra
La la how the life goes on
Ob-la-di, ob-la-da
Life goes on, bra
La la how the life goes on

Happy ever after in the market place
Molly lets the children lend a hand
Desmond stays at home and does his pretty face
And in the evening she's a singer with the band

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da
Life goes on, bra
La la how the life goes on
Ob-la-di, ob-la-da
Life goes on, bra
La la how the life goes on
And if you want some fun
take Ob-la-di-bla-da

Me Oscar Predix...

Hey y'all.
Well, today was THE day for the film world. This morning, the AMPAS announced their nominations for the Academy Awards, and boy were they not the least bit surprising. I managed to predict almost all of them, with the directing category being my only fumble. But, now I have the chance to redeem myself, and so, without further annoying chatter, I give to you my Oscar Predix...

Best Picture:
What Will Win: Brokeback Mountain
What Should Win: Good Night and Good Luck

Best Director:
Who Will Win: Ang Lee, Brokeback Mountain
Who Should Win: George Clooney, Good Night and Good Luck

Best Actor:
Who Will Win: Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Capote
Who Should Win: David Strathairn, Good Night and Good Luck

Best Actress:
Who Will Win: Reese Witherspoon, Walk the Line
Who Should Win: Keira Knightely, Pride and Prejudice

Best Supporting Actor:
Who Will Win: Paul Giamatti, Cinderella Man
Who Should Win: Paul Giamatti, Cinderella Man

Best Supporting Actress:
Who Will Win: Rachel Weisz, The Constant Gardener
Who Should Win: Michelle Williams, Brokeback Mountain

Best Screenplay (Original):
What Will Win: The Squid and the Whale
What Should Win: Good Night and Good Luck

Best Screenplay (Adapted):
What Will Win: Brokeback Mountain
What Should Win: Brokeback Mountain

Best Animated Feature:
What Will Win: Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit
What Should Win: Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit

There you have it. The "What/Who Should Win" catergory is merely what I would rather see win, based on personal bias, or the fact that I haven't seen the film that's the leading contender. I loved Good Night and Good Luck, which is apparent in my picks, so I'd LOVE to see that beat out Brokeback Mountain in the major catergories. So yeah, while this may seem pretensious, because maybe some of you have not seen these films, it's really not. These are the obvious winners, and like last year, I doubt there will be much of a surprise when the winners are annoucned in March...

Beatles Song of the Week...

"Here, There, and Everywhere" - Lennon/McCartney

I didn't intend this to be the inagural Beatles Song of the Week, but I heard it this morning while working, and I just couldn't resist putting it in. I absolutely love the slow rhythm, and how it just tells such a sweet story. Yeah, a bit simplistic for a Beatles song, as far as explanations go, but one listen can convince even the hardest of the hard. Take a gander at the lyrics to get a grip on the song, or purchase this fine album from Amazon.com.

To lead a better life
I need my love to be here

Here, making each day of the year
Changing my life with a wave of her hand
Nobody can deny that there's something there

There, running my hands through her hair
Both of us thinking how good it can be
Someone is speaking, but she doesn't know he's there

I want her everywhere
And if she's beside me I know I need never care
But to love her is to need her

Everywhere, knowing that love is to share
Each one believing that love never dies
Watching her eyes and hoping I'm always there

I want her everywhere
And if she's beside me I know I need never care
But to love her is to need her

I will be there, and everywhere
Here, there and everywhere

Me, A Shirt, and a Very Dark Room...

So, this morning I put my shirt on backwards. I guess this is the ultimate consequence of getting dressed in the complete dark, at 4:30 in the morning. What's sad is that I didn't realize it until at least 5 people had already seen me like that. I even had two girls snicker at me. I was oblivious as to why, and I tried to be coy, and not think it was about me. I'm now convinced it was. I guess the ultimate blessing behind this was that I had the opportunity to quickly remedy the problem, because the building where I work was almost completely empty (at least the part I was in at the moment of realization.) I had a good laugh about it as I went up the elevator to my little closet of goodies (mops, brooms, and Shineline Mint-Scented Multi-Purpose Surface cleaner...). What a morning...what a morning...........

The Pits...

Here, my friends, is what I like to deem "The Pits", or the worst films I saw this year. There are many, and each deserves complete ridicule for wasting my time, and the time of a good chunk of America (in the case of a few of them). I generally try to steer clear of bad films, but sometimes, my carnal nature gets the very best of me, and I just can't resist. So, here it is, at long last, The Pits of 2005

1. The Fog - Oh. My. Freak. This piece of garbage was absolute junk. Not once did I flinch from the supposed "horror" aspect of it all. Each and every moment was incredibly hilarious in all the wrong ways. Waste of talent on the parts of Tom Welling and Maggie Grace (R.I.P. Shannon), and sadly, its not going to do much for the latter, career-wise. I pray that this film is not being viewed by any more people than it has to, and I hope with all my heart that there aren't people out there who actually believe its a good film. If that be the case, then our nation is truly in a sad state of affairs....Damn you Bush....

2. The Transporter 2 - Simply put, I could barely stand to sit through this. Shoddy direction, terribly writing, and some of the WORST acting (Amber Velleta! What the freak were you doing in this garbage?!?!?!) EVER...The story was about as cliché as it was improbable. While some of the fight sequences did merit some praise, they weren't enough to tickle my fancy straight to the video store to purchase this. I'm a sucker for a great action movie, even those that may be improbable and cliché (Die Hard, anyone?), but this...This was terrible. I expect more out of you, Luc Besson....La honte, M. Besson...La honte....

3. The Ring Two - Gag me. While the first one had me simply terrified and petrified for about a week after seeing it, this one left me cold. I just couldn't figure it out. It was filled with strange symbolism ( I think) and even stranger moments. It was a well put together film, but it failed to impress me on many levels. It lacked any resonate core. The whole possession story was stupid and forced, and the fact that they completely eliminate the tape from the film in the first 10 minutes made me want to cry. Thats what made the first one so fabulous. My hope for the sequel? Imagine if the tape had reached all across the US, like an epidemic...What if that were the case? Think of the story they COULD have come up with had they sat down and not tried to copy Dark Water.

4. Dark Water - And when I say Dark Water up above, I mean the Japanese film. This one was released after The Ring Two, and it was absolute junk as well. What begins as a promising drama, and slightly creepy film, just turns into a failed premise with no scares to be found, anywhere. Jennifer Connally is good in it, as is most of the other cast members, and its their performances that place this film at number 4, and not at number 1, because the film itself was a terrible, terrible let down. So many red herrings in the first hour that elude to a more sinister plot, but none of them go anywhere, so you feel cheated. I felt cheated, for sure...Ugh...

5. The Brothers Grimm - I'm getting rather tired of panning these films in long paragraphs, so I think I'll continue to just give a brief reason why I hated it. This one was too long, and way to confusing. The story could have been great, and the references to classic fairy tales were fun, but just not good enough. Very morbid and slightly depressing...Not Gilliam's best...*sigh*

6. Exorcism of Emily Rose - This films on the list because it just didn't scare me like I'd hoped it would. Instead, its an intriguing, yet slightly boring courtroom drama that held my interest, but I didn't care for the characters. It was okay. We're getting to the point on the list where the movies weren't the best I saw, nor were they the worst...they just weren't great. Emily Rose is one of them. I didn't mind it, but it just failed to impress.

7. Flightplan - Same goes with this film. Great opening, and the first hour is great, but the last half an hour or so just get dumb. Once we find out the solution to the mystery, its hard to care anymore. It was almost too easy.

8. The Skeleton Key - This film was also just okay. It had some semi-creepy moments, but all in all, it wasn't a cut above. The twist end was pretty cool, but at the same time, it certainly wasn't as Sixth Sense-like as they'd advertised it to be. But, the twist was original, and it was a nice diversion from the terrible lot of Japanese horror remakes that make up the top of my list...

9. The Amityville Horror - Ditto everything I said about all of the other horror movies on this list. Not scary, and ridiculously pathetic. A Failure on all counts (And yes, the capital F is on purpose...Aren't I clever?!?!?!11) ...This one should be near the top, right under The Ring Two, but alas, I'm again too lazy to move it...

That's it. I can't think of anymore films that should be up here...If I do, I'll be sure to update...

Oh, and be sure to read my Tops... post for my Top Ten Films of 2005...

ciao
parker

Of Lewis and Pastries...

Well, pithy introductions aside, I feel it is most important that I begin my story quickly, and to tell it effectively. My tendancy to ramble is legendary, and I won't fall victim to its rascally ways. So, in lieu of a great, and witty beginning, I shall simply start out like this:
So, this morning, much to my amusement, was more entertaining than it has been the whole time I've slaved away on the stairs of the Math and Computer Science building, here at the University-That-Is-Not-To-Be-Named. One reason, and possibly the most obvious to those to whom I've already spoken, is the fact that after a long delay, our lovely, yet utterly totalitarian supervisor decided it was time that she fed us. So, we had a nice little breakfast (quick note, I feel it is neccessary to say that this breakfast was felt very strongly after the fact, all throughout my digestive tract. Next time she lures me into eating one of those irresistable poppy seed cakes with the glaze, or even that sinful chocolate milk, I'll be sure to quickly decline) in the third hour, thus cutting short my painful efforts to scrub (and I mean SCRUB) the stairs that never cease to be dirty. Ever. A nice treat and one that was well appreciated in a scholastic sense because I had a French paper to finish (Curse you, those with whom I played Speed Scrabble, drank copious amounts of Martinelli's and ate ravishing brownies), and I was able to leave early without consequence. Except financially. But, what does that matter...

Still, the greatest surprise of all came long before the above shindig. Normally, I listen to some sort of audio entertainment while mopping. Most of the time, its a terribly conceived mix of songs (imagine if you will Burt Bacharach's The Look of Love being followed by Gilbert and Sullivan's I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General, which is then followed by Green Day's Novocaine...it's like listening to Jack FM, except without the annoying man voice that thinks its soooo cool, which probably makes my mix better than Jack FM, but at the end of the day, I really dislike (read: hate) both.). This time, I tried to forget this mix, and expand my horizons. I have practically 20 MiniDiscs full of music, so I guessed anything else would be better.
Well, to make a long story short, I placed in a disc that I believed to be Nickel Creek's newest album, but I was instead treated to John Cleese's rousing reading of "The Screwtape Letters." I was shocked. I had completely forgotten about this disk. I had burned just before parting on my trip up here, but never got the chance to listen to it, thanks in part to my car's inablity to stay in one piece, and the very hot Nevada desert that almost claimed its life. I was so pleased to hear this, and it helped pass the two hours that I did work, very quickly. C.S. Lewis' clever musings on temptation and sin are rendered all the more entertaining when read by a member of Monty Python; especially the bit about humor. I found it extremely ironic that a man so famous for his bawdy humour (oooooo...) was reading the writings of a man who obviously disapproved of it.
So, while seemingly petty and uninteresting to probably the majority of those who read this, I found this morning to be a breath of fresh air. Who'd of thunk that a little bit of Lewis and a smidgeon of sweets could help to brighten one man's hopelessly dreadful morning.

Also featured today were my attempts at fixing my incredibly pesky television. I actually went out and bought a soldering iron in order to repair the thing, and my success can only be described as non-existent and fleeting (there was about a 5 minute period where I felt invincible to all things technical, and began clapping my hands in order to keep the TV's volume at a reasonable level, as if clapping was a proven method to express faith...Don't hate, Tink...) The problem still persists, and yet, I remain apathetic. How often can you get a TV for $8? Not too often, so if a little light slam is neccessary in order to save a few hundred bucks, fine by me.

There you have it, folks, straight from my head, to my fingers, to the keyboard, to the computer, and then after that, into the hands of the great and mystical Internet gods who will publish this great work of lunacy all over this great world of ours for all to see, and for no one to care about... Man! The Internet rulez!!!!1111

'Ave a gud one, luv!

ciao
parker