Friday, December 18, 2009
Ghostbusters 3 on the Way
Alright so I'm psyched. Anyone want some thai food? (There's a line in the first movie about Thai food). Ivan Reitman Confirms 'Ghostbusters 3' Rumors - Inside Movies
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Saturday, December 05, 2009
peeking
my girlfriend checked my "history" to find the gift i ordered for her online.
is this the new "shaking the box"?
is this the new "shaking the box"?
Friday, December 04, 2009
band names
The Outward Swinging Doors
Jehovah's Attorneys
Butters in Bali
Waiter, There's Soup in My Hair
Jehovah's Attorneys
Butters in Bali
Waiter, There's Soup in My Hair
Thursday, December 03, 2009
word of the day
approximeeting: Getting together with one or more people by first arranging an approximate time or place and then firming up the details later on, usually via cell phone.
—approximeet v.
In a sentence: "I called my future self to approximeet sometime in the next 6 months to discuss my career plans."
—approximeet v.
In a sentence: "I called my future self to approximeet sometime in the next 6 months to discuss my career plans."
cutting flowers
i turned in a 29 page paper the other day. i thought it was longer but i had the margins wrong, and changed them at the last minute after cutting most of my inspired turns of phrase from the paper (because i thought it was too long). se la vie.
Monday, November 16, 2009
gigging!
i played a violin gig last night, my first for money. Previously I've only entertained grade-schoolers. The kids are more excited than the adults, I can say from experience. Here's what happened: This guy dropped into the music store where I take lessons looking for an "intermediate" violinist, evidently. I got the call and rang the guy up. He gave me this 30 minute spiel about how he's trying to smooth over a "rough patch" with his gf, whose parents hate him, evidently. Poor chap. So I learned "At Last," put on a suit, and played for him and her at a restaurant in San Mateo. The manager took my cards, and asked my rate. I said $50 per half hour. Not bad right? HIGHlarious. I gotta work on my Italian tunes...it's amore.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The Hurt Locker / Gunner Palace
Most Iraq war movies focus on how dishonest the push to war was, or how hopeless the fight is. The Hurt Locker assumes both, then dismisses them through a protagonist addicted to war and its adrenaline-inducing chaos. The movie is hard to watch if you actually consider the cost of supporting people like him, with its minimal ROI, and as displayed in embedded documentary Gunner Palace, about a squad living out of one of Uday Hussein's palaces just after the "victory" in the war in Iraq, around 2003. But Hurt Locker is easy to get pulled into, if you've ever enjoyed an episode of GI Joe.
The main character is a bomb, or IED, defuser. He's old school, doing such gallant acts as throwing off his communication devices and forgoing use of the bomb robot; if you can imagine an action hero star who prefers analog life (see Die Hard) you'll get my drift. So this flawed hero ignores his family, rides his men, and never gets hurt. Nearly everyone else does. How is he such a superman?
We never really find out. He's Daniel Craig style tormented, ripped--diesel, and not afraid to fight. I guess he's the ideal soldier. So he saves a few lives, places too much emphasis on his relationship with a young local boy, to compensate for failing with his family at home, I guess, and the rest of the characters falter and pray for home. He's not cruel, as one of the higher ranking officers in the film is, preferring to let an insurgent die than receive medical care. He's just addicted to war.
So it goes. Hurt Locker dares you to dream of a world where war is sport, and just as meaningless. Go team USA!
Gunner Palace, on the other hand, is more comfortable dwelling in the silent moments, after the enthusiasm wears off, and soldiers are left with only their weak explanations and vivid memories.
The only hint of Locker's addiction to war found in the doc Gunner Palace is when a young soldier exclaims his joy for being in Iraq. From a small town, natch, the young man says that at his age, about 19, he can say he's been in war, with combat experience. How many people can say that? he asks. The expression of enthusiasm on his face proves that the need still exists to prove your manhood or see the world through war. I wonder whether any alternatives can capture the imagination in such a romantic way. That said, there's nothing too romantic about all the raps--literally, mostly African-American soldiers spitting rhymes next to their Humvees, while beat-keepers smack their hands on the hood--that Gunner Palace prominently features. I liked those.
The main character is a bomb, or IED, defuser. He's old school, doing such gallant acts as throwing off his communication devices and forgoing use of the bomb robot; if you can imagine an action hero star who prefers analog life (see Die Hard) you'll get my drift. So this flawed hero ignores his family, rides his men, and never gets hurt. Nearly everyone else does. How is he such a superman?
We never really find out. He's Daniel Craig style tormented, ripped--diesel, and not afraid to fight. I guess he's the ideal soldier. So he saves a few lives, places too much emphasis on his relationship with a young local boy, to compensate for failing with his family at home, I guess, and the rest of the characters falter and pray for home. He's not cruel, as one of the higher ranking officers in the film is, preferring to let an insurgent die than receive medical care. He's just addicted to war.
So it goes. Hurt Locker dares you to dream of a world where war is sport, and just as meaningless. Go team USA!
Gunner Palace, on the other hand, is more comfortable dwelling in the silent moments, after the enthusiasm wears off, and soldiers are left with only their weak explanations and vivid memories.
The only hint of Locker's addiction to war found in the doc Gunner Palace is when a young soldier exclaims his joy for being in Iraq. From a small town, natch, the young man says that at his age, about 19, he can say he's been in war, with combat experience. How many people can say that? he asks. The expression of enthusiasm on his face proves that the need still exists to prove your manhood or see the world through war. I wonder whether any alternatives can capture the imagination in such a romantic way. That said, there's nothing too romantic about all the raps--literally, mostly African-American soldiers spitting rhymes next to their Humvees, while beat-keepers smack their hands on the hood--that Gunner Palace prominently features. I liked those.
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
iran, i was tired
sorry for the lame joke in the headline.
I saw Peter Broukaert speak at the Ferry Building about Iran, and other atrocity-doing regimes in the world. Iranians from the Iranian American Bar Association showed up in numbers, so it was a nice, spirited crowd. Unfortunately lefties used most of the Q&A to ask about US politics, mainly. The speaker had a European accent, being born in Belgium. It made it all the more startling when he quoted political activists raped in Iranian prisons, who said their rapists told them something to the effect of "You can't even protect your own ass, so how can you save Iran?"
Broukaert warned of a "deal with the devil," whereby the US would turn a blind eye on internal Iranian human rights and political abuses in return for international regulation of their nuclear program.
Closer to home, he said certain Silicon Valley companies, without naming names, are very involved in the sophisticated Internet monitoring by governments in Asia, specifically Burma/Myanmar.
***
On a lighter note, I watched Pi. The soundtrack was a nostalgia-inducing step back into the late 90s, with Orbital, Massive Attack, Autechre and other broken beat artists. The grainy B+W was fun, different, but the story was fairly run of the mill. Independent computer programmer resists the offers of money and religious celebrity, as well as female companionship, preferring to remain true to his pursuit of knowledge.
***
Britt's still gone. Boo hoo. I should try to be nicer to people even though I'm heartbroken.
***
Yesterday, I ran all over town, from West Portal to the Ferry Building, to Menlo Park. We saw Stanford whoop up on the Huskies in football. Dort scolded me for only scalping my extra ticket for $10 instead of $15. Le sigh. It was my dad's birthday so I think he appreciated our coming down. It's crazy to see an actual running game at the Farm. Go Card!
I saw Peter Broukaert speak at the Ferry Building about Iran, and other atrocity-doing regimes in the world. Iranians from the Iranian American Bar Association showed up in numbers, so it was a nice, spirited crowd. Unfortunately lefties used most of the Q&A to ask about US politics, mainly. The speaker had a European accent, being born in Belgium. It made it all the more startling when he quoted political activists raped in Iranian prisons, who said their rapists told them something to the effect of "You can't even protect your own ass, so how can you save Iran?"
Broukaert warned of a "deal with the devil," whereby the US would turn a blind eye on internal Iranian human rights and political abuses in return for international regulation of their nuclear program.
Closer to home, he said certain Silicon Valley companies, without naming names, are very involved in the sophisticated Internet monitoring by governments in Asia, specifically Burma/Myanmar.
***
On a lighter note, I watched Pi. The soundtrack was a nostalgia-inducing step back into the late 90s, with Orbital, Massive Attack, Autechre and other broken beat artists. The grainy B+W was fun, different, but the story was fairly run of the mill. Independent computer programmer resists the offers of money and religious celebrity, as well as female companionship, preferring to remain true to his pursuit of knowledge.
***
Britt's still gone. Boo hoo. I should try to be nicer to people even though I'm heartbroken.
***
Yesterday, I ran all over town, from West Portal to the Ferry Building, to Menlo Park. We saw Stanford whoop up on the Huskies in football. Dort scolded me for only scalping my extra ticket for $10 instead of $15. Le sigh. It was my dad's birthday so I think he appreciated our coming down. It's crazy to see an actual running game at the Farm. Go Card!
Sunday, September 20, 2009
weekend update
- Hiked with Keith and Roz the Dog at Candlestick Point right after the 49ers game. Put out a fire some nitwit started by dumping his barbecue coals into the dry brush. Marveled at the ringing sound of a thousand empty bottles windswept across the littered parking lot.
- Went to 10-year high school reunion. The jocks predictably ruined the class photo with a boisterous "U-S-A!" chant. I thought "B-E-L-L-S Go Bells!" was good enough. On the upside, astronomer Shane Bussman clued me into UniverseToday.com as a possible improvement on Astronomy Picture of the Day.
- Sent my cousin off to college at Santa Barbara with fancy dinner at Los Altos Grill. For some reason there were several nats flying over our food the whole time.
- Talked to Britt, who's in Arkansas.
- Working on CV to send to the world
Friday, September 11, 2009
i awoke from a coma yesterday
Instead of lying on a bed, like most people, my coma activity consisted of playing live online Tetris and reading and studying the law.
last night, my non-coma activity climaxed with a visit to the SF Symphony's annual All Concert, a $10 show for people involved in civic groups in the city. The program was two waltzes, from Liszt and Ravel, then the popular theme from the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical Carousel.
For the second act, guest pianist Ilya Yukushev pretty much ran the whole affair doing Prokofiev's second piano concerto.
We had awesome seats in the terrace above and to the side of the orchestra. I noticed new things, like the harpist covering his ears from the crashing cymbals behind him, the little plastic noise barriers to do the same, and MTT's little glances to the pianist before starting each movement, as if to ask permission.
OK, back to school.
last night, my non-coma activity climaxed with a visit to the SF Symphony's annual All Concert, a $10 show for people involved in civic groups in the city. The program was two waltzes, from Liszt and Ravel, then the popular theme from the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical Carousel.
For the second act, guest pianist Ilya Yukushev pretty much ran the whole affair doing Prokofiev's second piano concerto.
We had awesome seats in the terrace above and to the side of the orchestra. I noticed new things, like the harpist covering his ears from the crashing cymbals behind him, the little plastic noise barriers to do the same, and MTT's little glances to the pianist before starting each movement, as if to ask permission.
OK, back to school.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
i made some music
Contraband by Peter Loyarpánz
Click the link. I made it on GarageBand using stock bass and drum loops. I recorded guitar and violin parts with the MBPro's onboard mic and line input. Whoopdeedoo. Tell me what you think!
Click the link. I made it on GarageBand using stock bass and drum loops. I recorded guitar and violin parts with the MBPro's onboard mic and line input. Whoopdeedoo. Tell me what you think!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Jury duty
so I had jury duty, and almost made it onto the case. me and one other guy were the last ones left standing. one of the lawyers had a print out from a Wiki site, "How to Question a Jury" or something. whatever works.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
How I met Dave Eggers
It all started about a month ago, when Britt and I were walking at Crissy Field near the Golden Gate Bridge. These girls come up and ask us if we're a couple. "Yes," we said. They say they're interns at McSweeney's and want to take our pictures for this photo spread they're doing on couples. We obliged. We corresponded with them later by email and verified the paragraph they wrote about us.
A month later we go to a Dave Eggers book signing for his new book. Britt gets him to sign her book, spelling her name out "Brittany O."
"Like Karen O?" Dave asks.
"Yes," she says.
"Cool," he responds.
Then he sees me, and asks, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
We're in the McSweeney's couples photo thing, we say. He flips out and says, wait for me, I'll be done in 10 minutes, and gives us the address of his office. He was midway through signing Britt's book, but we move out of the way and walk over to his nearby office, which happens to be in the back of a stationary store.
There, we sit around while everyone types away on their Macbooks. I checked out some stuff they had displayed, presumably from the superhero store in Brooklyn, like Time Travel products and different superhuman powers in physical form, like chemical elements. After about 20 minutes, Dave rushes in and whisks us past everyone and into his office in the back. Sweet!
He showed us the photo spread layout. It's a game where they show your pictures individually with a bunch of others on one page, and people are supposed to match you with your mate. The answers are on another page. He said they took the idea from Boston Magazine, but they don't usually do unoriginal things like that. Dave reassures Britt that they chose a good pic of her, and once I tell him I went to Northwestern, he tells me how Northwestern kids used to make fun of him and the other Illinois state school kids when they came to basketball games on our campus. I almost felt bad for him.
Next came the payoff. "Do you guys want anything? Take some books!" he says. We were surrounded by volumes on bookshelves, so I asked him to pick some. He chose "Bowl of Cherries" by 90-year-old author Millard Kaufman, and "The Convalescent" by Jessica Anthony, about a four and a half foot tall Hungarian butcher man, or something, both hardcovers. He also hooked Britt up with the McSweeney's editor, who gave her an assignment. Sweetness!
Finally, we ask, can you sign our books now? He obliges, writing, "with love and strength and thanks," in Britt's copy of "What is the What." After reading her friend's inscription, that the book taught him "it could always be worse," Dave says, "Valentino knows that better than anyone." In our new copy of "Zeitoun" he writes, "So good to know you two. Be Human."
So, Dave was pretty cool. Britt was surprised how young he looked, and I noticed how soft-spoken and humble he seemed. I was so star struck I forgot to ask him to get margaritas with us.
A month later we go to a Dave Eggers book signing for his new book. Britt gets him to sign her book, spelling her name out "Brittany O."
"Like Karen O?" Dave asks.
"Yes," she says.
"Cool," he responds.
Then he sees me, and asks, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
We're in the McSweeney's couples photo thing, we say. He flips out and says, wait for me, I'll be done in 10 minutes, and gives us the address of his office. He was midway through signing Britt's book, but we move out of the way and walk over to his nearby office, which happens to be in the back of a stationary store.
There, we sit around while everyone types away on their Macbooks. I checked out some stuff they had displayed, presumably from the superhero store in Brooklyn, like Time Travel products and different superhuman powers in physical form, like chemical elements. After about 20 minutes, Dave rushes in and whisks us past everyone and into his office in the back. Sweet!
He showed us the photo spread layout. It's a game where they show your pictures individually with a bunch of others on one page, and people are supposed to match you with your mate. The answers are on another page. He said they took the idea from Boston Magazine, but they don't usually do unoriginal things like that. Dave reassures Britt that they chose a good pic of her, and once I tell him I went to Northwestern, he tells me how Northwestern kids used to make fun of him and the other Illinois state school kids when they came to basketball games on our campus. I almost felt bad for him.
Next came the payoff. "Do you guys want anything? Take some books!" he says. We were surrounded by volumes on bookshelves, so I asked him to pick some. He chose "Bowl of Cherries" by 90-year-old author Millard Kaufman, and "The Convalescent" by Jessica Anthony, about a four and a half foot tall Hungarian butcher man, or something, both hardcovers. He also hooked Britt up with the McSweeney's editor, who gave her an assignment. Sweetness!
Finally, we ask, can you sign our books now? He obliges, writing, "with love and strength and thanks," in Britt's copy of "What is the What." After reading her friend's inscription, that the book taught him "it could always be worse," Dave says, "Valentino knows that better than anyone." In our new copy of "Zeitoun" he writes, "So good to know you two. Be Human."
So, Dave was pretty cool. Britt was surprised how young he looked, and I noticed how soft-spoken and humble he seemed. I was so star struck I forgot to ask him to get margaritas with us.
Monday, July 13, 2009
goings on
Life Digest has some catching up to do.
Pete and Britt spent a lovely July 4th weekend underneath, and above, the Golden Gate Bridge at Cavallo Point. This brownfield site was Fort Baker, but is now a fancy hotel/lodge/spa. The weather is surprisingly pleasant for its location on the edge of the Western hemisphere. My father paid, mother invited us. We dined at the restaurant on the grounds. Pete had foraged porcini salad and Point Reyes grass-fed beef, while Britt ate young greens salad with strawberries and wild boat salmon. Yum x 1000 = Murray Circle. Other members of Pete and Britt's casually dressed party of eight pissed off the waiter by trying to pronounce the name of a certain wine, and tried to keep their utensils even though they weren't supposed to, evidently.
This past weekend P+B went to Truckee and stayed with James and Tina. Britt read from the Twilight series while Pete and James hiked. Then everyone watched 16 and Pregnant all night, every night.
Planned is a trip to San Diego, hitting all the sites in between, including the Monterey Bay Aquarium, Hearst Castle, the Mystery Spot, and the Salton Sea.
Sail on!
Pete and Britt spent a lovely July 4th weekend underneath, and above, the Golden Gate Bridge at Cavallo Point. This brownfield site was Fort Baker, but is now a fancy hotel/lodge/spa. The weather is surprisingly pleasant for its location on the edge of the Western hemisphere. My father paid, mother invited us. We dined at the restaurant on the grounds. Pete had foraged porcini salad and Point Reyes grass-fed beef, while Britt ate young greens salad with strawberries and wild boat salmon. Yum x 1000 = Murray Circle. Other members of Pete and Britt's casually dressed party of eight pissed off the waiter by trying to pronounce the name of a certain wine, and tried to keep their utensils even though they weren't supposed to, evidently.
This past weekend P+B went to Truckee and stayed with James and Tina. Britt read from the Twilight series while Pete and James hiked. Then everyone watched 16 and Pregnant all night, every night.
Planned is a trip to San Diego, hitting all the sites in between, including the Monterey Bay Aquarium, Hearst Castle, the Mystery Spot, and the Salton Sea.
Sail on!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
other worldly films
A lot of movies have been watched at the Presidio Inn: Woody Allen's older films What's New, Pussycat?, Sleeper, Bananas, Mighty Aphrodite, A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy, Celebrity, and Annie Hall. Also, his recent works Anything Else and Match Point, along with Vicky Christina Barcelona's crazy and/or confused females (plus one-trick pony Scarlett Johansson, so-so in The Prestige, a good film) and neurotic, paranoid, aging males.
You see enough of these Allen creations and the scenes start to overlap -- i.e. the part in Celebrity where Kenneth Branagh interrupts his young muse's theater practice, finding her in the sights of another man, and the scene in Anything Else where Jason Biggs follows Christina Ricci to theater practice, and finds her in the arms of a rival. But, eh... if repetition is the worst thing I can say about such a vast catalog, so be it. Maybe he's just trying to get his point across. Not sure what his point is, maybe that love takes time, and luck, to work.
Also, I finally saw Alex Cox's Repo Man, after multiple people including Mike Sherman recommended it. The film is based on a hypothetical: what would happen if Emilio Estevez's bad-ass, Men At Work slacker character were charged with repossessing cars, not collecting trash, and there were aliens. Harry Dean Stanton swears like a sailor, pouring his heart into his role as Estevez's mentor. Perhaps The Wendell Baker Story could have used more cursing, but that's another blog.
Repo Man is up there with Brazil and Time Bandits in its futuristic-yet-trashy, surfy, surreal, damn-near-gritty Magic Realism. They aren't apocalyptic, a la Six-String Samurai. Perhaps that's because no one ever really got their shit together enough to cause a catastrophe. Maybe it's that apocalypse is too easy. Isn't death by a thousand cuts -- paper cuts, in Brazil's case -- scarier, and more realistic? There's just an overall sense of something having gone wrong, and one man (or, in Time Bandits, a few little men) left to salvage whatever's left. The soundtrack is classic punk rock, with the LA bands Circle Jerks making an appearance, and Black Flag claiming territory. I read that David Lynch is considering the sequel to Repo Man, called Repo Chick or something. Hopefully Emilio Estevez is in it. What a dreamboat.
You see enough of these Allen creations and the scenes start to overlap -- i.e. the part in Celebrity where Kenneth Branagh interrupts his young muse's theater practice, finding her in the sights of another man, and the scene in Anything Else where Jason Biggs follows Christina Ricci to theater practice, and finds her in the arms of a rival. But, eh... if repetition is the worst thing I can say about such a vast catalog, so be it. Maybe he's just trying to get his point across. Not sure what his point is, maybe that love takes time, and luck, to work.
Also, I finally saw Alex Cox's Repo Man, after multiple people including Mike Sherman recommended it. The film is based on a hypothetical: what would happen if Emilio Estevez's bad-ass, Men At Work slacker character were charged with repossessing cars, not collecting trash, and there were aliens. Harry Dean Stanton swears like a sailor, pouring his heart into his role as Estevez's mentor. Perhaps The Wendell Baker Story could have used more cursing, but that's another blog.
Repo Man is up there with Brazil and Time Bandits in its futuristic-yet-trashy, surfy, surreal, damn-near-gritty Magic Realism. They aren't apocalyptic, a la Six-String Samurai. Perhaps that's because no one ever really got their shit together enough to cause a catastrophe. Maybe it's that apocalypse is too easy. Isn't death by a thousand cuts -- paper cuts, in Brazil's case -- scarier, and more realistic? There's just an overall sense of something having gone wrong, and one man (or, in Time Bandits, a few little men) left to salvage whatever's left. The soundtrack is classic punk rock, with the LA bands Circle Jerks making an appearance, and Black Flag claiming territory. I read that David Lynch is considering the sequel to Repo Man, called Repo Chick or something. Hopefully Emilio Estevez is in it. What a dreamboat.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
life digest 060109
All kinds of surprises are happening around 541 Lake. Yesterday, the hydrant got knocked off by an errant minivan across the street. Pete and Britt had a primo view of the action as crowds grew, cars were confused, and firefighters moseyed on over to put out the water.
Today, Pette and Britte made their merry ways to San Bruno, natch, to celebrate Michael's birthday at BJ's Brewhouse. Pete had the Porter homebrew with fish and chips, sharing the avocado roll appetizer with Britt, who ordered one massive "Classic" baked potato. She ordered it without sour cream or cheese, just bacon. It arrived no bacon, and no sour cream, just cheese. Natch. The place got some pretty bad Yelps though, so the couple was prepared.
Pete reads Lolita, while Britt suffers Atlas Shrugged.
Gabriel heads off to college soon, at Loyola Chicago. On Sunday, she went shopping on Haight St. accompanied by her mom, boyfriend, older brother and his girlfriend. They ate at Citrus Club, which everyone more or less enjoyed, after the wait, and ended at Crepes Express. Britt says the servers aren't very nice there and she didn't like her latest apple-cinnamon crepe. Pete liked his alright, though the whipped cream was rather cheapy and melted quickly.
A&E
Though Pete and Keith dug some of the soundtrack, Pete and Britt concur: "Don't see Medicine for Melancholy." Bad stereotypes of racial identity and dialogue, weak acting, shaky camerawork and too much silence do not balance out the filmed-in-SF fun factor, says Pete. "The NY Times review was on point when saying the film doesn't do the identity-politics discussion any favors. Instead, the movie details what it's like to be a guy trapped in your own notion of what a particular skin color means," Pete adds. "It's not pretty."
Today, Pette and Britte made their merry ways to San Bruno, natch, to celebrate Michael's birthday at BJ's Brewhouse. Pete had the Porter homebrew with fish and chips, sharing the avocado roll appetizer with Britt, who ordered one massive "Classic" baked potato. She ordered it without sour cream or cheese, just bacon. It arrived no bacon, and no sour cream, just cheese. Natch. The place got some pretty bad Yelps though, so the couple was prepared.
Pete reads Lolita, while Britt suffers Atlas Shrugged.
Gabriel heads off to college soon, at Loyola Chicago. On Sunday, she went shopping on Haight St. accompanied by her mom, boyfriend, older brother and his girlfriend. They ate at Citrus Club, which everyone more or less enjoyed, after the wait, and ended at Crepes Express. Britt says the servers aren't very nice there and she didn't like her latest apple-cinnamon crepe. Pete liked his alright, though the whipped cream was rather cheapy and melted quickly.
A&E
Though Pete and Keith dug some of the soundtrack, Pete and Britt concur: "Don't see Medicine for Melancholy." Bad stereotypes of racial identity and dialogue, weak acting, shaky camerawork and too much silence do not balance out the filmed-in-SF fun factor, says Pete. "The NY Times review was on point when saying the film doesn't do the identity-politics discussion any favors. Instead, the movie details what it's like to be a guy trapped in your own notion of what a particular skin color means," Pete adds. "It's not pretty."
Thursday, May 28, 2009
ben fong-torres and us
The former Rolling Stone writer gave a great speech at the SF State Journalism school graduation.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
tone generator
Brian and I were talking about a simple music maker that anyone can use online. Ours would have looked like a radar screen, with a revolving straight line that played the notes that you place onto the screen. Some of our ideas were that you could place little chickens on the thing to make a chicken sound, and other ducks that quack and other things beyond regular musical tones or rhythmic beats. I guess placing an object closer or farther from the center would regulate its pitch, timbre or volume. It could also be 3-D with objects placed over one another for some reason (pitch/tone/volume) and far below some water to put the tones underwater (use your imagination).
Then Brian finds this, which is also pretty cool, and a lot simpler:
I've had some fun with it.
Then Brian finds this, which is also pretty cool, and a lot simpler:
I've had some fun with it.
Monday, March 23, 2009
LOL Cool J (courtesy of CansaFis)
So M. Albert Flury is in town and CansaFis we met, who related, at great merriment and laugh-making to all, his latest foray into comic mischief, whereupon I undertook to remember and re-produce for my readers such here:
LOL Cool J:
Q: What's Chris Brown's favorite hip hop group?
A. (backwards) saeP deyE kcalB
LOL Cool J:
Q: What's Chris Brown's favorite hip hop group?
A. (backwards) saeP deyE kcalB
Sunday, March 22, 2009
food for thought
I was wondering if eating can make you hungry, and found that it can. Evidently, eating breakfast also helps you lose weight. Who knew? Maybe I can eat off my lawschool/girlfriend pounds :)
Thursday, March 12, 2009
spring break
it's never too late to blog my spring break. so far, i've played hours of New SMB for DS, beating the game once and proceeding to unlock level 4, a couple warp cannons and shortcuts, and catch many golden coins. I plan to continue getting the coins, as they are something I can accomplish without the aid of a walkthrough. This way I still feel I am accomplishing something cool while preserving some sense of curiosity and discovery.
Princess Britt helps me all the time. All of our wrists hurt.
Break has gone well, with wonderful weather and many walks. I visited Menlo Park, where I ate at Hobee's, and picked up some fresh lemons and oranges. Back in SF, I drank a lot of good coffee and got together with friends. Sunday night dinner, with Keith and Arie, was pan-Asian themed, with fish, rice, light salad, Sapporo, soju, instant miso soup, broccoli and cauliflower, and Polly Ann's mango and coconut popsicles from Richmond New May Wah Supermarket. We then watched Waking Life.
On Monday, Britt aced her midterm, she claims. More importantly, I defrosted the freezer, even though this is the kind "you don't have to defrost." Years of ice caked on the elements formed a formidable foe, but I attacked with metal spoons, knife, and can opener, assisted by pots and pans of boiling water, and succeeded in defrosting the lower half. A partial victory, but one I relish. I quit when an ice chip flew into my right eye.
Lukashenko, moonlit trust walks to Starbucks and back, stargazing, and a couple books (White Teeth, Memories of My Melancholy Whores) as well as the BBC version of White Teeth fill my nights.
Off to experiment with bike routes to school!
Princess Britt helps me all the time. All of our wrists hurt.
Break has gone well, with wonderful weather and many walks. I visited Menlo Park, where I ate at Hobee's, and picked up some fresh lemons and oranges. Back in SF, I drank a lot of good coffee and got together with friends. Sunday night dinner, with Keith and Arie, was pan-Asian themed, with fish, rice, light salad, Sapporo, soju, instant miso soup, broccoli and cauliflower, and Polly Ann's mango and coconut popsicles from Richmond New May Wah Supermarket. We then watched Waking Life.
On Monday, Britt aced her midterm, she claims. More importantly, I defrosted the freezer, even though this is the kind "you don't have to defrost." Years of ice caked on the elements formed a formidable foe, but I attacked with metal spoons, knife, and can opener, assisted by pots and pans of boiling water, and succeeded in defrosting the lower half. A partial victory, but one I relish. I quit when an ice chip flew into my right eye.
Lukashenko, moonlit trust walks to Starbucks and back, stargazing, and a couple books (White Teeth, Memories of My Melancholy Whores) as well as the BBC version of White Teeth fill my nights.
Off to experiment with bike routes to school!
Friday, March 06, 2009
Journalism for dummies
Step 1: Don't do this:
Step 2: Copy edit, or at least read, the story you post from AP as your lead story for the day.
Step 3: If you can't do step 1 or 2, maybe you deserve to go bankrupt.
Step 2: Copy edit, or at least read, the story you post from AP as your lead story for the day.
Step 3: If you can't do step 1 or 2, maybe you deserve to go bankrupt.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
TV Guide
We got a hotel room in the Marina's Cow Hollow Motor Inn last night for a little vacation. The place is old school, with yellowish flower print wallpaper, hanging lamps, and green 7-Up soda vending machines with both Canada Dry ginger ale *and* Diet Canada Dry. Dinner was a trek. We crossed the street for Amici's "east coast pizzeria." The pepperoni, sausage, sauteed mushroom, bacon and garlic puree was a tasty treat. Good thing we skipped the Grove. The next morning we witnessed a great waterfall coming down onto unsuspecting outdoor seating.
For kicks we watched mucho TV, from the Cosby Show and Fresh Prince to J. Lo's Enough, the Colbert Report, Sex and the City, Futurama, the Smart Guy, South Park (smug pollution episode - how apropos), Wife Swap (not the Steven Fowler episode) and of course the Girls Next Door. Then I saw Pres. Obama's speech to the troops. Why so serious?
For kicks we watched mucho TV, from the Cosby Show and Fresh Prince to J. Lo's Enough, the Colbert Report, Sex and the City, Futurama, the Smart Guy, South Park (smug pollution episode - how apropos), Wife Swap (not the Steven Fowler episode) and of course the Girls Next Door. Then I saw Pres. Obama's speech to the troops. Why so serious?
Friday, January 30, 2009
ordered liberties
- hit a car with my car yesterday. it was parked and i was pulling out. i cracked the bumper of the older BMW and dented in my door. i left a note.
last night i got a call from "Steve." FIrst off, he said, he wanted to thank me for leaving a note, something not often done in the city. Second, he was going to give away the "roach coach" soon and didn't need any money from me. Yippp! - saw Milk at the newly remodeled Sundance Kabuki theater. comfy seats, small theaters, a wine bistro up the ticket price but are worth the $3 amenities fee per ticket. or maybe i just say that cuz the film was so good. my hang up with the movie was its addition of a line at the end about the killer's "Twinkie Defense," an overblown sensationalist mantra of the press pillorying the justice system for letting a guy off because he was high on sugar -- though the whole twinkie thing was actually just evidence of Dan White's bipolarism. whatevs. Diego luna was great.
- got Mike Sherman's random list of 25 things chain letter on Facebook. i'm happy that he's happy and healthy. he's working out and not lighting things on fire.
- saw Across the Universe. Bono's in it, but it's still pretty entertaining, a cute 60s love story, and full of decent versions of Beatles' songs. also, Burn After Reading, Baby Geniuses, Erin Brockovich, Da Vinci Code, Caddyshack, Meet Me in St. Louis, Wall-E, & Angels in America. Obviously, I'm behind on my reading in Property, Criminal Procedure, and Contracts II.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
meet my cousin, the atv riding filmmaker
this is an epic (thanks for the adjective britt) trailer for my cousin's upcoming film about, presumably, ATV riding. he lives in Nebraska and goes to school in Kansas and loves him some ATVs.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
northern exposure
i went to the missoula, MT area for a few days. we flew there and drove through the snow to get to my uncle and aunt's ranch. i almost hit like 5 deer with the car.
other highlights: buying Starbucks inside a Target store, getting a complimentary espresso shot; buying Starbucks across the street from a Cracker Barrel and the C'mon Inn, whose billboard advertised an indoor pool, five hot tubs, and an indoor waterfall; and drinking Irish coffee and other cocktails (pear mojito, sour apple thingy) courtesy of my brother.
i read The Appeal by John Grisham and Barrel Fever by David Sedaris. Reading the two made me want to do a spoof of Grisham novels. The Appeal is more jaded than his earlier novels. Sedaris was fun and evil.
We mostly spent our time eating, reading, and drinking while playing Gin Rummy, pool, and beer pong. I taught my eight year old cousin to play Iron Man on guitar, and how to play chess. He and my uncle beat me.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
The Daring Ones on the Flying Trapeze
Check out this video from our Circus Arts Center flying trapeze lesson. Don't miss my ginormous belly flop.
Thanks to my mom and Gabriel Micek for the footage and Britt the Director for direction/storyboard and music consultation. I produced, engineered, and sound edited. The songs are "Itchy Chicken" by Los Straitjackets, "Electric Counterpoint / Fast 2" by Pat Metheny/Steve Reich and "King Porter" by Jelly Roll Morton.
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