Supernaut

Oh yeah, R.I.P. Ol' Dirty Bastard.

Sabbath Bloody Sabbath

Here are the movies I watched this week, lightning round-style:
On the big screen:
Undertow (David Gordon Green) He's 29 years old and he's already made three distinctly original, flawed but wonderful movies. I would be resentful and jealous if I didn't like what he was doing so much.
On video:
Miller's Crossing (Joel Coen) I've seen this a few times, but my wife (that's still weird to say) hadn't seen it yet. I have mixed feelings about the artistic worth of the Coen brothers, but I do love some of their movies and am always entertained. I like this one a lot.
King Lear (Jean-Luc Godard) Confusing as hell, frustrating, sometimes illuminating. As far as I know, this is Godard's only entirely English-speaking film, and the cast is really bizarre: theater director Peter Sellars, film director Leos Carax, Godard himself, Norman Mailer, Molly Ringwald, Burgess Meredith, and Woody Allen.
35 Up (Michael Apted) A film crew interviewed a group of British schoolchildren from different class backgrounds when they were 7, and director Apted has been back every seven years to see what's happened to them. All the films are compelling, but I found this one less interesting than either "28 Up" or "42 Up." Most of the subjects at the age of 35 were settled into a routine, most had small children, and had found a career they wanted to stick with, so it wasn't exactly cinematic dynamite. Still, to be able to see footage of people at ages 7, 14, 21, 28, and 35 is a rare opportunity that made me think about what I'm doing with my own life.
Summer (Eric Rohmer) This seems fluffy and inconsequential, and the heroine seems whiny and melodramatic, but it slowly turns into yet another excellent film from a guy who's made 70 billion of them, mostly with similar themes. How does he do it? Rohmer is in his nineties now and still making good films, the majority about young, attractive women and their ethical and emotional problems. And most of them are distinctly different from each other, funny, and visually exciting.

War Pigs (aka robot of the week)

This week's robot of the week winner is Nick for F. Scott McGizmo Nuts. Congratulations, Nick. Here is the new Robot of the Week. This is the second-to-last chance to name a robot. At the conclusion of the next monthly contest, I am retiring the Robot of the Week contest. The novelty has run its course.

Black Sabbath Monday

Hey, everybody. I work for the Texas Legislature. They are in session every other year. When the legislature meets, we have more work than our small staff can handle so a shitload of temporary workers are hired. Most of them have started now. My little office, which is just the right size for little ol' me, is now home to four people. They're all nice, but it super-sucks. I like my alone time to read, surf the Web, stare at the wall, etc. It's not really possible with four people in a room, so I have limited blogging time today. That's why I'm declaring it Black Sabbath Monday. Today, my posts will all have Black Sabbath songs for titles. Also, my posts will be very short.

Obligatory post

Hey,
I don't have much to say, but it's been a few days, so I should probably post something. I've been feeling sluggish and surly for a few weeks, not much enthusiasm, anti-social. I still hate my job even though I put in my notice and will no longer be working there as of December 1. You'd think this would make it easier to come to work knowing the end was in sight, but I still have to give myself a pep talk every morning to get out of bed. Also, I hate the president. And the vice president. And his cabinet. And Congress. And all the titty-baby Democrats who have no guts. I'm tired of what I eat for lunch. I'm trying to keep the misanthropy at bay, but it's taken hold for now. It will eventually leave and I'll like people again, but it's really going to take a while this time. I had yesterday off, that was something. And I watched a couple of movies I liked a lot, Forbidden Zone (Richard Elfman) and The Son (Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne). Both movies made me feel good, momentarily: "Forbidden Zone" for its enthusiasm toward old Tex Avery-style cartoons and musicals and its offbeat sense of humor, and "The Son" for its minimalism, an emphasis on forgiveness instead of revenge, and its ability to be hopeful without any sentimentality or manipulation. It's funny how much I like humanist art but how little I like actual humans, including myself. Nah, that's not entirely true. People, you're alright. Except for the fundamentalist Christians. You can eat shit. Sorry for the incoherent post, everybody. Goodnight, and God bless.

The Man Who Refused to Take His Gorilla Mask Off, Part 10

(This segment to be read aloud in the tone perfected by friendly elderly narrators of made-for-TV Christmas specials, especially those involving claymation reindeer)

It has been a whirlwind month for our hero, dear readers, a whirlwind month indeed. Steve Smithers, a former office worker, an Average Joe if you will, has transformed himself into an ape in shining armor, a rescuer of children, two little children not unlike yourselves. His days are filled with praise and glory, with adulation, with parades and ceremonies and commercial endorsements and carnivals and complimentary meals. The citizens of Fancytown have embraced Apeman Steve. They've adopted him as their mascot. Mayor Brannigan even gave him the key to the city, an honor bestowed on only a fraction of those who live in our glorious metropolis. Yes, children, Apeman Steve's life has taken quite an interesting turn. Just a quick peek at what he has been up to in the last four weeks is enough to make your kindly old narrator's head spin. Let's gaze into our crystal ball at just a few of his recent activities, children. Look, everyone. There he is as the grandmaster of the annual Fancytown parade. Doesn't he look wonderful? Local billionaire Jackson Whittaker Harkington allowed Steve to ride his famous Clydesdale, Old Fuckface, and Steve proved himself a worthy horseman. Look at his poise astride the huge beast, kids. He cuts an almost presidential figure, wouldn't you say? What's this? A podium at the end of the parade route? And Mayor Brannigan again? How fantastic. The mayor is making a very special announcement. He's declaring it Apeman Steve Day in Fancytown. He says there will be a carnival on this date next year. Shifting my gaze on the crystal ball, I see Steve in front of a camera crew, holding an enormous sandwich. And who's that standing next to him, children? Why, it's none other than former NFL great John Elway. Steve is appearing with Mr. Elway in a commercial for Crazy Louie's Really Big Sandwiches. This commercial is going to be broadcast all over Fancytown. Isn't that wonderful, kids? And what do we have here? Steve is appearing onstage at the Fancytown Municipal Auditorium. He's been given the incredible honor of introducing the nationally acclaimed extreme gymnastics and dance troupe Keep It Real Tony & The Just Say Yes To Life Dancers. What an honor. Look at those kids move. They're quite an amazing troupe, aren't they? Now look at Steve walk down the street. Everyone waves to him and calls out his name. He's become quite the local celebrity. Ooh, now we're in Apeman Steve's apartment. It's a nice little place, not too fancy but a comfortable and attractive home nonetheless. Steve's taking his shoes off and relaxing in his favorite chair. Now he gets up from the chair and takes a few items from the cupboard. Here's where we cut the shit, kids. Apeman Steve is drinking vodka from the bottle, straight, through a silly straw. He's also looking at pornography. Deviant pornography. He wants you and all the others in Fancytown to know, children, that you can stick your accolades and attention right up your ass. He's tired of your insincere flattery and self-serving starfuckery. He wants you to know that John Elway was a boring dick, the Clydesdale was poorly behaved, and the dance troupe completely sucked. He's an apeman, kids, and he needs an apewoman. Guess what else, children? Maybe he needs to get out of Fancytown to find her. Maybe Apeman Steve will take his commercial endorsement money and hit the road. Maybe Apeman Steve wants to see what this crazy country really looks like. Maybe he wants to get in adventures, stay in hotels, get in bar fights, and feel the open road. And maybe, just maybe, Apeman Steve will find love. But that's another story for another time. Until then, keep reaching for the stars. Goodnight, children, and get the fuck out of my house.

Am I a bad person because I don't like office potlucks?

I guess I'm the devil, but I fucking hate organized, forced leisure activities and potluck dinners, especially those of the holiday variety. Maybe I'm an antisocial prick, but I just get so grumpy when stuff like this happens. Whoopee, it's not bad enough that I have too many organized family dinners, now I have to figure something out for work, too! I can't really cook Thanksgiving food, I've never been a big fan of Thanksgiving food, I don't like anything that's been planned and/or organized, and I just want to go to work in peace without a lot of forced whoop-de-doo. I also get really anxious when there's more than, say, five people in a room unless they happen to be really good friends or I'm pretty drunk, so the idea of 50 people standing around the conference room, exchanging pleasantries and/or witticisms while holding paper plates full of holiday food fills me with complete and utter dread. Maybe I'm an asshole, but why do extroverts and planner-types get to control the world, and why do I look like a dickhead when I don't want to participate?

Robot of the Week contest winner and new Robot of the Week

The contest winner this week is Cuttyblacksow and his robot name, the McSweeney Dick Kisser 5.0. Congratulations, Cutty! Here is our new Robot of the Week. Give it a name, for the love of Christ. I'm considering retiring the robot of the week contest after the next monthly winner in two weeks. I will probably still post pictures of robots from time to time, but I'm getting tired of the old robot-naming game. Maybe I'll think up a new contest.

Films: The Movie (dinner version)

Hey, kids. I watched some more movies this weekend. I don't feel like writing about them, though, so I'm going to rate each film by assigning it a particular food item. Maybe you can guess whether I liked these films or not based on their corresponding meals.
First up, on the big screen at the Arbor:
Sideways (Alexander Payne) Cheese enchiladas with poblano sauce, rice, tortillas, and whole black beans.
On video:
The Legend of Suram Fortress (Sergei Paradjanov, Dodo Abishidze) Asparagus and broccoli.
Umberto D (Vittorio de Sica) Bobos de camarao a.k.a. shrimp and yucca with rice in a tomato cream sauce.
The Sacrifice (Andrei Tarkovsky) New Orleans-style shrimp po'boy, red beans and rice, and homemade macaroni and cheese.
Mystic River (Clint Eastwood) Supreme pizza, but the last couple of slices taste fucked up.

Jonathan Rosenbaum's review of "Mystic River" gets at some of the problems I had with the film and says it better than I could. His review has even more relevance in our Bush-reelected present than it did when he wrote it last year. Read it, if you're interested in that sort of thing.

The poetry of the streets

I was watching "Blind Date" either late Friday or Saturday night while lying in bed, and I was introduced to a couple of ass-kicking colloquialisms that had hitherto escaped me. The first of the show's two dates went horribly awry, and, during the post-date interview segment, the woman on the date said she would "rather be sucked up by a tornado of farts" than go on a date with the man again. During the second date, the woman asked the man how many women he'd been with, and he answered: "I've been with them all, age eight to eighty, dumb, crippled, and crazy." The U.S.A. may be okay after all.

I'm going to have a stomach ache for the next four years

Things couldn't have gone worse yesterday. It's almost unbearable to think we have four more years of that arrogant, dangerous prick. I hope I'm out of the office when the nuclear holocaust starts. On the plus side, I could be wrong. Boy, will I look stupid four years from now when terrorism has been vanquished from the earth, money drops from the trees, and the Middle East is an exotic resort. Until then, I'll be in my room crying, drinking whiskey, and putting a gun in my mouth.

I just saw something totally whacked out, dudes

I was returning to my office after getting a seafood salad sandwich at a local sandwich shop (sometimes I get an odd craving for the vaguely mysterious "seafood blend" of non-seafood restaurant fame and must acquiesce, i.e. I am filthy) when I saw something disturbing/endearing. A family of three (middle-aged couple, maybe 13-year-oldish son) were waiting for the light to turn green at the crosswalk so they could cross ... and all three were riding Segway scooters! Part of me wanted to vomit and the other part of me was touched by the cute family of nerds riding their nerdmobiles. I was sweetly horrified.

I watch a lot of movies instead of actually going out and doing stuff

Hey, everybody. I watched some more movies over the weekend. I also went to a Halloween party. FYI, cherry-flavored blood capsules are also shit-flavored.
First up, I saw a movie on the big screen, Tarnation (Jonathan Caouette), at the Arbor. This is one of the most unbearably disturbing films I've seen, so unbearable at times that I wanted to run from the theater. It's also a hopeful, positive experience. Just the fact that it was even made is a positive action. Caouette's mother was given electro-shock therapy as a young girl, setting off a chain reaction of madness, abuse, fragmentation of family, drug use, suicide attempts and many other awful things that extended to her son and flowed back up to her parents. Caouette documented a lot of this on video since he was 11 years old and weaves this home movie footage, answering machine messages, old TV and movie clips, pop songs, white noise, recorded conversation, computer graphics, nightmare imagery, and text into an experimental narrative that gets closer than any film I've seen to externalizing a person's internal life.
On video:
The Shining (Stanley Kubrick) I admire Kubrick as an artist, but I'm not a big fan. I like his films, but he is too disinterested in human beings and too concerned with Big Ideas for me to feel much connection to his work. There are two Kubrick movies, however, that I love without much reservation: "The Killing" and "The Shining." I've read a lot about how "The Shining" is really about Kubrick and the tyranny of artistic control, with Jack Nicholson as the Kubrick/tortured artist character, but I don't really believe it. Even if it's true, I'm not that interested. The reason I don't believe it is because very few scenes are filmed from Jack Nicholson's perspective. Most of the action is filmed from the little boy's perspective, or that of the hotel itself. It's basically a simple story of a little boy terrified of his drunken, violent father and the wide open spaces of a strange environment. Now I want to get a sandwich so I'm going to cut this short.
Therese (Alain Cavalier) True story of the French saint and Carmelite nun done in a series of vignettes with a blank, gray background. It's a lot more exciting than that description made it sound.
Trouble in Paradise (Ernst Lubitsch) Great old romantic comedy about thieves that is full of explicit-by-1932-standards references to sex since the film was pre-Code. The criminals get away with it, too, which is great.
Mauvais Sang (Leos Carax) This is one of those rare films that is heavily stylized and interested in its human characters. It's a vaguely futuristic crime thriller with lots of nods to silent films, classic Hollywood, and French New Wave that takes lots of detours away from its plot. I liked it a lot.

Robot of the Week contest winner and new Robot of the Week

Hey. This week's Robot of the Week contest winner is Archivaria for her name, Assimo. Congratulations, Archivaria. Here is our new Robot of the Week. Give him a name, leave it as a comment under this post, and you could win the glory of a weekly victory and/or the prizes of a monthly victory.

Saw a good movie

Watched the Ramones documentary End of the Century (Jim Fields, Michael Gramaglia) at the Dobie last night and was very pleased. We've all seen a million rock documentaries (and by we, I mean me), and most of them suck. An endless parade of admirers, fellow rockers, producers, fans, etc., spout platitudes about how great everyone was and how great they all were to work with, a timeline of chronological events is trotted out, and we learn about the rise, fall, and death and/or return to spotlight of said artist in the most generic way possible. This documentary is nothing like that. It follows a basic documentary template, a mixture of old footage and talking-heads interviews, but turns into something much greater due to a couple of factors. First, the editing is so sharp and efficient. They interview other rock people about the Ramones, including Blondie, Thurston Moore, John Frusciante, and Rob Zombie, but the editing slices away any ass-kissing or hero worship and leaves only the interesting points. They're not trying to sell anyone on the Ramones, just trying to figure out how they happened and who they are, and the
editor(s) know when to leave the footage alone and when to slice it up. Second, you could not find more honest guys than the original Ramones and the handful of replacement drummers and bassists interviewed for the film. Whatever the filmmakers ask them, they get honest, surprising, pretense-free, no-bullshit answers. I've never seen a rock band this unwilling and unable to spin its past history. The Ramones, especially the four original members, couldn't possibly be more different. Johnny was a tee-totaling, business-obsessed, right-wing Republican who forced the bandmembers to wear leather jackets, jeans, and bowl haircuts and kept written records of the money earned and the crowd attendance at every show they played. He also stole Joey's girlfriend in the early eighties and later married her. The two rarely spoke to each other again, even though they shared a van for eighteen more years touring the country. When the directors ask Johnny how he felt after Joey's death, his answer is blunt, cold, surprising, yet somehow respectable. Joey was a quiet, shy, strange-looking, sickly music geek with OCD who had to touch every other step outside his building before he could leave. He doesn't say anything bad about anyone, but he had a strained relationship with the rest of the band that was never resolved before his death. Dee Dee seems like a moronic drug casualty at first, but is so sweet, funny, sad, inarticulate, and shockingly intelligent he wins you over during the course of his interview. His self-deprecating comments about his rap album are especially funny. Tommy seems the most normal, into producing records and the first to leave the band. The other band members barely aged, but Tommy looks like a greying hippy. It's unfortunate that Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, and Joe Strummer (also interviewed for the film) are all dead now. In a way, this movie is like a big wake, for punk rock as well the dead Ramones, but it's funny, endearing, sad, and smart and definitely worth seeing.

One more funny thing about "Easy Living"

I was very surprised how little the audience laughed at the hilarious thirties' movie-slang. Words are funny. Language is funny. The fat banker character, J.B. Ball (Edward Arnold), is trying to get a room at the Hotel Louis. His character is always grumpy and shouts every line in the film. He's hitting the bell at the front desk impatiently, and shouts out, "What do you have to do to get a room in this shebang?" Kristy and I thought this was the funniest line in spoken history. No one around us did, which made us laugh even harder but also feel stupid. I'm giggling right now just reading about it. On second thought, "giggling" is an emasculating word. Let's say I'm tittering. No, even worse. Guffawing? Chortling? Chuckling? Hee-hawing? Snickering? Sniggling? Tee-heeing? None of these words are manly, with the exception of "chortling." But "chortling" is too frat-macho, too business fat-cat for consideration. We need a word for small, mischievous laughter that doesn't sound like I'm sprinkling pixie-dust on myself and dancing around in a pink tutu. Does anyone have any suggestions? That gives me the idea for a contest. Come up with a tougher word for "giggling" by Nov. 15 and I will use the best one in a sentence at some point in the future. Pretty awesome prize, am I right?

That's a spicy-uh meatball-uh

I'm feeling sluggish, sleep-deprived, ennui-riffic, and bored this week, and I don't feel like writing in the blog. I'm tired of writing about gorilla masks, robots, movies, etc. I have no enthusiasm. I just want to stay in bed and sleep, but I can't do that because I'm at work. I feel like I'm neglecting the blog, but I don't really care. I want to be lazy. Lazy. Laziness is good. I did manage to see a movie last night, Easy Living (Mitchell Leisen), at the Alamo Drafthouse downtown. "Easy Living" is a screwball comedy from the thirties and a part of the new Austin Film Society series about the career of actress Jean Arthur. It's the kind of movie they haven't made for a long time, full of twitchy, jittery character actors with rubber faces, clever puns, goofy slang, and one pratfall after another. In fact, the entire cast is made up of character actors, including Jean Arthur, an unconventional, unglamorous movie star who moved from shy embarrassment to huge bursts of action with an off-kilter timing all her own. The movie is an odd case for me because I generally prefer films where the director is the primary author/architect of the film's content, style, and form, and this one is a true collaboration. Preston Sturges, one of the all-time great directors, wrote the screenplay, and his humor and cadence are stamped all over the movie. Mitchell Leisen directed, and his placement of the camera and the actors has a style all its own, separate from Sturges's. The actors also function as co-authors, since much of the humor depends on the way a line is spoken or a facial expression is performed. Now I want to go outside so I'm going to cut this short. Goodbye, everyone.

Robot of the Week winner and new contest

Join me in congratulating this week's robot name winner, #54 Tangerine Lightning by Krouchdog. Congratulations, Krouchdog! Here's our new Robot of the Week. You know the rules. You have until Nov. 1.

My favorite Neil Hamburger joke

Q: What do you get when you cross Sir Elton John with a saber-toothed tiger?


A: I don't know, but keep it away from your ass.

Taking a break

Hey everybody. There will be no more posts until Monday because I'm going to lovely Columbus, Ohio to visit some friends and see the mighty Guided By Voices on their final tour! With Tobin Sprout opening! Whoo!