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Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 01:51:28 GMT

so this is how a marriage ends

not with a bang but a whimper

june 8, 2009

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

Wed, 04 Mar 2009 16:33:04 GMT

One

When Robbie arrived at his car ten inches of snow had already fallen. His umbrella was starting to sag from the weight of wandering ﬂakes, having endured a 30 minute walk. He closed it, shaking the snow of vigorously. As he did, ﬂakes fell down his partially exposed back and onto his hair. Winter storm warning indeed - if the forecasts were any indication, this was just the beginning. He shufﬂed for his keys, unlocked the car, and opened the door.

Bad move.

Snow from the window and the roof of the car poured into the driverʼs seat, giving the inside of the car a look analogous to an avalanche. “Let it snow,” he said, shaking his head and throwing his bag into the passenger seat. A thud hinted at what he would never get a chance to conﬁrm: his laptop was in the bag, and would need a new screen.
----------

Two

Driving down Oceanic Road, Robert - he hated Robbie - was going a cautionary 15 miles per hour. Save for the car on his tail, he was enjoying the drive home. He was halfway there, and quite proud of himself; heʼd yet to slip or slide on this slushy mix of ice and snow. Heʼd passed an accident a few miles back: two cars, fenders crushed but otherwise boring. The roads were spotty at best: clear one moment, completely covered the next.

Atlantic City was playing on the radio. “Everything dies, baby that’s fact..." He wished he could remember the singer. As he reached down to change the radio station, he heard a horn blare behind him. In his rearview mirror, he could see the car - actually an SUV, Chevy by the looks of it - swerving. It continued for a few seconds. Then a signal turned on, the SUV moved in the left lane, and started accelerating. This was notable to Robert for two reasons, the ﬁrst of which was that this was a double-yellow-lined section of road; the SUV was passing in a no-pass zone. The other reason he found this interesting was that beyond the upcoming hill, he saw two beams of light emerging from the opposite direction: there was a car careening toward the SUV.

For a mere second, he imagined a vicious collision followed by a ﬁery explosion. It was beautiful in his mindʼs eye: an amalgam of orange ﬂames, mangled metal, and a gradually growing puddle of blood. It was like a Robert Frost poem brought to cinematic life by Quentin Tarantino. “Wow,” he said aloud, shaking his head and smiling. When this vision passed, Robert seemingly jolted back into consciousness, slamming on the brakes as he did. He slid fifty feet, but it allowed the SUV to pass him on the left without incident, missing the car that was coming opposite of them.

As the SUV went past, he caught a fleeting glance from the passenger. He never forgot that face until has last breath: a teenage girl, banging her window with two fists, her hair a jumbled mess and her cheek smeared with blood. How he could see so much in conditions so confusing would later enter his mind; for now he could think of only one thing. He grabbed his cell phone and immediately dialed 911. The line was busy. “No!” he said, pounding the end key and redialing. Two times. Three. Finally, an operator came on the line. Before he could say a word, though, a ﬂash in front of him caught his eye: a brief burst of light within the SUV. Another, then another.

Gun shots. He witnessed a silhouetted struggle inside the SUV, and more flashes. It was as if a lightning storm was occurring between two shadowed combatants. Faintly he heard the 911 emergency response voice in the background. A woman. “Sir,” she said. “Sir, are you there?” Outside the winter mix had subsided, but its ominous presence remained.

And as Robert grasped for his nonexistent voice, the SUV - seemingly without provocation - suddenly sped up, veered to the left, turned too fast, and barrel rolled five times on the slick, unpaved snow. From within his car, all four windows rolled tightly up, the muffled sound of metal crashing against snow-padded pavement reminded Robert more of a boxer pummeling a punching bag than a vehicle flipping end-over-end. As it came to a halt, the SUV slid on its driver side for what seemed like a hundred feet, coming to rest at the bottom of the hilly road.

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Three

As he approached the ghostly silent wreckage - the lone SUV with no one else around - Robert was holding his breath. It took him a while to realize this. Heʼd been holding it for almost a minute, ever since the SUV stopped barreling. Unbeknownst to him, it had taken Robert a good thirty seconds to summon the strength to exit his car once he had stopped a few feet from the overturned vehicle.

The smell of gasoline was in the air, and it immediately lead him to inhale. One foot in front of the other, Robert walked toward what he realized was actually not a Chevy, but a Ford. “Built tough,” he quipped under his breath. The storm had reawaken, so much so that precipitation was beginning to accumulate on the exposed passengerʼs side. Save for one giant hole in that window - he assumed it was the result of a gunshot - the side of the SUV was completely white.

He looked behind him, party out of habit (he was, after all, in the middle of a road), but also out of curiosity: his thoughts were veriﬁed when he saw a long, eerily straight trail of snow leading where the SUV had slid to its current position. It had the appearance of a monstrous T: a dirty, white, protracted stem with an SUV stretched across the top. When he peered through the blown-open passenger window, he saw a searing sight: blood. Everywhere.

It was amazing none of it had spilled onto the snow. A pool had gathered on the driverʼs side window, and as he gently opened the passengerʼs door, the partially shattered glass fell into the vehicle, allowing glass and snow to sprinkle into the SUV in a sickeningly beautiful combination.

The driver was dead. From the look of things, he had been shot three times. His head was missing several vital parts - among them a nose, an ear, and large chunks of brain and skull. Robert could now see the windshield had been shot once, as had the driverʼs side window. He assumed what he would unfortunately never be able to confirm: the driver had kidnapped a teenage girl, she had gotten hold of a gun, and hit her assailant several times before he lost control and flipped the vehicle.

“Jesus,” he said. “Did the whole clip go off?”

When he said this, the girl - heʼd momentarily forgotten her - jerked awake and let out a shriek. It scared Robert so terribly that he launched backward, bumping the door and causing it to fall back shut, releasing the remaining shards of glass into the SUV. The screaming continued and he quickly ran back over to the vehicle, opening the door and attempting to calm the girl. “Hey, hey look, the police are on the way,” he heard himself saying, using his hands to try to show that everything was OK. “Hey,” he said. “Iʼm going to unbuckle your seatbelt.” She stopped screaming and looked up at Robert. Her breathing calmed. Even covered in blood, her hair a mess, she was striking. “I’m Robbie” he said. “We need to get you out of here, we canʼt sit in the middle of the road.”

No sooner had he said this than a car came flying over the hill opposite of him. The last thing he heard was the futile effort of brakes skidding against pavement, where the road had been exposed from the sliding SUV.

And the last thing he saw was Frost mixed with Tarantino.

Snow mixed with blood.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Tue, 23 Sep 2008 16:53:08 GMT

What TV character do you relate to most, and why?

Mon, 22 Sep 2008 01:53:49 GMT

I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too!

I'm not quite as harsh, but I'd say House mainly because of the way I tend to look at things logically, as opposed to emotionally.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Tue, 09 Sep 2008 01:20:19 GMT

Someday girl, I don't know when
We're gonna get to that place
Where we really wanna go
We'll walk in the sun

I was in church Sunday talking to a guy who's been teaching at VCU for over 25 years. He asked me about the classes I'm taking and my majors. The conversation eventually led to my expressing the fact that I wanted to go to film school in L.A. He just had two words: "Do it." He just kept saying it over and over again. I'm not one to be inspired by one conversation, but it left me with a feeling just short of euphoria.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Fri, 22 Aug 2008 00:15:48 GMT

Photos from the Bruce concert. I didn't really think about it until later, but the photos are posted in reverse order. But that isn't so bad. Definitely the best show I've ever seen in my life. He was 5-10 feet from me for the entire concert, and even closer to JD, who was so close to the stage he could touch it. Peace.

Movie Reviews

Fri, 01 Aug 2008 04:11:11 GMT

Hellboy II: The Golden Army - Bigger than the first in terms of both budget and scope, The Golden Army is still pure Guillermo Del Toro (Hellboy, Pan's Labyrinth), and that's a good thing. Smart dialogue and stylishly inventive action scenes are here in full force, as well as decent acting and some fine comedic moments. But the real treat here is Del Toro's indefatigable imagination, which he utilizes in bringing to life amazing and sometimes awe-inspiring creatures throughout. In shape, size, anatomy, and color, his creations are all a testament to a dying breed: non-CGI special effects. Don't get me wrong, one of the film's most beautiful shots happens because of computer generated imagery, but it doesn't wallow in the stuff. B+

Wall-E - Everyone knows the impressive track record held by Pixar, whose historic run mirrors partner Disney's 80s-early 90s streak. Their latest, concerning a portly rust-filled robot's fixation with a gliding, shiny one, has a heart of gold. Everything about the film - the animation, the sound effects, the soul of it all - proves that even metallic, inhuman objects can possess the ability to make us care when in the right hands. What the Pixar brand is all about is a fun, relatable story with infinitely interesting characters. Here they give us that and more. I heard several people say they either teared up or came close to it. For me it was the former, and Pixar has made me unafraid to admit it. A

Hancock - The movie with possibly the most enjoyably satirical idea of the summer accomplishes only half of what it should. A drunken superhero (Smith) who despises his obligation toward humanity stumbles and bumbles in his attempts to save the world. Will Smith, undeniably one of (if not the) most talented actor of the last decade, tries to make Hancock work. And to an extent it does - he relishes the role, as does Jason Bateman, in another spark of genius, as a PR guy who offers to improve Hancock's image. The setup is there, but the second half is so damn different and frustrating that Smith's humor can't save the day. C

The Dark Knight - My, what a complicated and flawed yet cheerfully high-quality epic Christopher Nolan has concocted. Christian Bale is back as the caped crusader, improving on the last film (Batman Begins) in many ways. Other original cast members returning include Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, and Gary Oldman as Lt. Gordon. Heath Ledger as Joker is everything you've heard and more, as summed up by his hilariously gory introduction to the crime warlords. His first words to them - "ill make this pencil disappear" - are as laugh out loud funny as they are shocking. His use of everything from his voice to his eyes and mouth as devices of acting is unique and riveting. The complicated story has several strands, including one involving Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), a politician who has single-handedly improved Gotham's crime rate. His ascension is both interesting and relevant. The only drawback in Dark Knight is its running time, a paunchy 2 hours and 32 minutes. The rate at which we become apathetic toward the outcome speeds up dramatically around the 2 hour mark, where the natural climax occurs. It is really a shame, because the first 120 minutes are some of best ever for a superhero movie. A-

Step Brothers - Having had much success with John Reilly, Will Ferrell, and director Adam McKay in Talladega Nights, Universal Pictures returns with another comedy. This one is a hard-R concerning two 40-year olds who still live with their parents. When their respective parents get married, they have to deal with each other. Much of the laughs stem from using a variety of profanities, something which would drag the film to mundane banalities were it not for the chemistry between Ferrell and Reilly. While the film is funny, I feel the writers (Ferrell and McKay) could have done much better had they actually strived for more originality. B-

Ten Days in Texas

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 01:26:47 GMT
Day 1 - Tuesday

Part One: The Ride

I awoke Tuesday morning at 6:58 a.m. to the ring of my bedroom telephone. My father was making sure I was up and packed, alerting me that he was on the way. I hung up the phone and awaited my own alarm to reawaken me. It was set no sooner than 2 minutes later at 7:00 AM but I refused to get up every time it began to blare. The snooze button can be a curiously wonderful yet potentially disastrous thing. This morning it was neither. At around 7:40 I groggily poured myself out of bed and hit the shower.

When I emerged from the bathroom I had a message. My dad called to make sure I had not gone back to sleep. I got dressed and started re-examining the two bags I had packed to ensure that everything I wanted or needed was ready to travel with me. Save for a few Under Armour shirts and my laptop that was charging over night, everything was where it should have been.

After confirming that I was fine on the luggage front, I sat down to watch yet another episode of Aaron Sorkin’s brilliant White House drama The West Wing. With seasons 1 and 2 behind me, I eagerly anticipated season 3, and it has so far failed to disappoint. The rapid-fire dialogue combined with both intriguing political topics and top-notch dramatic elements combine for an almost flawless hour of entertainment.

I had to stop watching when my father arrived shortly after 8:30. We packed up the car and after paying a visit to 7-11 to get some breakfast, we hit 95 North en route to Dulles Airport.

On the road we discussed many things, including the most recent entry in the Batman franchise, The Dark Knight. Our conclusion was that the film’s finer points were at times marred by some weaker ones. By far the biggest and most obvious fault was in its running time; 152 minutes is much too long for an action movie. Unless one is adapting a Tolkien epic or committing to film the disastrous voyage of Titanic, it grows exceedingly difficult to defend a running time north of two hours. Knight’s was upward of two and a half.

Ledger’s performance as the anarchist Joker was nothing short of extraordinary, damaged only by the fact that he, along with the rest of the cast, was on screen for too long. Indeed, the aforementioned cast were all perfect for their parts, especially Aaron Erkhart as Harvey Dent/Two-Face and Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne/Batman. The dialogue was smart and strayed from exposition, and the running theme of terrorism, coupled with the problem of choice and its effect on our instinct for self-preservation, provided a nice propellant for the overall story.

If only it had ended thirty minutes earlier. Harvey Dent’s ascension to Gotham’s “White Knight” is interesting and at times gripping to watch; his inevitable downfall should have been saved for the next film. There are foreshadowings of things to come for Harvey’s character halfway through The Dark Knight, and how brilliant it would have been to let them come to fruition at a later time and place. With the extended running time we also are privy to an excess of action scenes, and though I’m a strong supporter of blowing things up, there is such a thing as overdoing it. Let’s just say Jerry Bruckheimer would be proud.

We arrived at Dulles and my father walked me to my flight. We purchased a New York Times and I left for the gate. Boarding time was 12:35 P.M. for a 1:05 departure. I had printed out my boarding pass before leaving my house, saving me from having to endure a lengthy and anger-inducing conversation with one of the people at the airport. The American Airlines site allowed me to check in, print paperwork, and choose or change my seat - all over the web. I might be starting to sound old, but sometimes the convenience and sheer scope of the internet surprises even me. I don’t think it will solve everything, nothing ever will; but it has certainly emerged as the singular achievement/advancement in human technology this century.

I sat down in my window seat and the captain came over the wave. “Welcome,” he said almost apathetically. “Our flight to Forth Worth, Texas will begin momentarily.”

Part Two: The Flight(s)

One thing that has always amazed me is the almost 2D characteristic of the sky from a land point of view. Looking left to right seems to confirm to us the three dimensionality of our surroundings, but when I set my sights upward the sky appears flat and curiously depthless. Not so when cruising at an altitude of 34,000 feet. The world seems to reverse itself. At seven miles above sea level these spectacular plumes which materialize seemingly from nowhere resemble explosions of white amid a limitless horizon of blue. These are the cumulus, and watching them mushroom is like witnessing the expansion of an eagle’s wings - if the eagle was 20 stories large.

Beyond these behemoths are the smaller clouds. What they lack in scope they make up for in numbers; scores of these mini-cumulus litter the horizon to the point that they resemble an approaching army of disfigured house-sized cotton balls. Above them cirrus, the wispy wonders that seem so carefree from the ground, change very little even at such a close range.

I’m riding a 150,000 pound metal bird whose speeds exceed five hundred miles an hour and my mind’s in the clouds. What can I say, I have a window seat.

In between reading the New York Times and peering out the dirty window I delve into Orwell’s 1984. It’s the third classic novel I’ve tackled in the last two weeks, with “Fahrenheit 451” and “Travels With Charlie” being the other two. Reading has suddenly and inexplicably become infectious to me, as is evidenced by the fact that I brought East of Eden, Of Mice and Men, and Treasure Island with me on the flight. George Orwell’s tales of desperation and earnest rebellion against the oppressive force of Big Brother is slow at the start, but eventually picks up. At page 205, I’m thoroughly engaged.

It was at page 205 that the first and only layover occurred at Dallas Ft. Worth. I had 15 minutes to arrive to my next plane, and a nice gentlemen pointed me toward a tram that stretched all four gate areas of the airport. It was surprisingly efficient, taking me a few hundred feet from my gate on its second stop. On this plane - destination El Paso - I also got a window seat, but I refrained from reading on the ride. The gentlemen next to me was reading Stephen King’s “Cell”, and I had to resist side-seat reading. Instead I looked yet again toward the outside world, and I was just in time to see the asphalt dashing madly like a mile-long treadmill powered by a Hummer motor.

When a plane takes off it seems to me almost physically impossible. How on earth could a 70 ton object resist our planet’s pull to the point of flight? Unlike the space shuttles which eventually thrust themselves into zero gravity, these mechanical giants can endure 18+ hours the tear and sheer force of the laws of physics. As it shoots down the runway, the trembling inside the aircraft feels somewhat alarming, but all worry is ejected from my mind when the moment of lift off arrives. Your body wants to go downward but the plane is shooting you into the sky. It’s an interesting experience that mirrors, though exponentially, the sensation of riding a roller coaster, and one has the curious feeling that if at any moment a giant set of hands were attempting to flatten you, this is what it would feel like.

Part Three: Arrival

After claiming my baggage I went out of the airport to the front entrance, and my grandfather - whom I was meeting - was nowhere to be found. I whipped out my phone and dialed his number, just to get a busy signal. A sort of panic began to engulf me, and while I knew it was foolish to worry more than a little, my mind kept going back to a simple truth: I was in El Paso, Texas, and the one and only person I knew within a thousand mile radius wasn’t where he said he’d be.

Turns out he was where he said he’d be. I just mixed up the baggage claim entrance with the ticketing entrance. Sure enough a few phone calls later and I spotted my grandfather, donned in the usual Caution Orange colored t-shirt with expansive black UXB letters covering the back. I could tell he was a little perturbed at my lack of following directions, but that didn’t stop him from shaking my hand and giving me a hug. In fact, it was the first thing he did.

We walked over to his Ford Edge, the vehicle UXB gave him for his 3-month venture at Fort Bliss. Ah, Fort Bliss. Keeper of crazy weaponry and warden to the largest area of unrestricted airspace in North America. At 1.12 million square miles, the fort could house Rhode Island with room to spare.

“Military bases are sprawling creations,” he says to me when we get on the topic. “Out here in the desert, look in front, behind, side to side, it doesn’t matter - it stretches in all directions as far as the eye can see.”

“What’s the area we’re going to?”

“It was put up to work with Homeland Security after 9/11. Unfortunately it was given the boot, and one Friday early in the morning 100 workers arrived to find out that they would need to be off the base by 1 PM.”

“They were laid off?”

“The military personnel were transferred, but most of the workers were civilians.”

------

After signing into the hotel and going to the room, I fold out the couch and spread the sheets onto it. It hits me like a brick: it's 7:30 in the evening, and I’m pretty exhausted. “You better get some sleep,” he says to me. “Alarm tomorrow morning is 4 AM.”

If a light cigarette can be just as dangerous as a regular, why do they call them light?

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 02:53:43 GMT

I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!

brilliant marketing.

Movie Reviews

Get Smart: Steve Carell and Anne Hathaway have decent chemistry in this fun and action-packed adaptation of the late 60s television show. Supporting roles by Alan Arkin, Dwayne Johnson, Terrence Stamp, and Masi Oka (Hiro from the NBC smash hit "Heroes") make the cast a diverse and friendly bunch. Smart writing and references from scribes Tom Astle and Matt Ember - including subtle digs at the current President Bush - fuels the film and keeps the pace - along with the laughs - consistent. Great summer escapism. Grade: A-

Kung Fu Panda: Jack Black's gluttonous and slothful panda Po makes for some good guffaws, but Dustin Hoffman's Master Shifu steals the show as his trainer. The whole feel of the picture exists to evoke memories of the old Samurai flicks and shows of yesteryear, and it does this perfectly. Lending their voices to the film are Angelina Jolie, Jackie Chan, Seth Rogen, Michael Clarke Duncan, and Lucy Liu. More than anything else, the latest product from Dreamworks Animation attempts to focus more on the story and less on the voices. It might seem to the outsider that they've failed merely by looking at the cast sheet, but Panda has the best, most heartfelt story since DA's "Shrek". Some exciting Kung-Fu action tops it all off. Grade: B+

The Incredible Hulk: "Hulk", released 2003 from director Ang Lee and containing a more-than-capable cast (Eric Bana, Jennifer Connelly), scored big opening weekend but then tanked the following weeks at the box office. And Marvel, going 1 for 1 this Summer with the extraordinarily likable "Iron Man", saw potential to have another stab at the big green guy. This "reboot" from Marvel Entertainment succeeds not only in that it improves on the first film, but that it's actually interesting without being boring.

Ed Norton takes over for Bana as Bruce Banner, the troubled scientist whose body is "property of the U.S. Government," according to William Hurt, playing General Ross. Liv Tyler is unfortunately cast (though undeniably beautiful) as Banner's girlfriend/Ross' daughter. Her light-as-a-feather voice reduces her to repeating Bruce's name softly and delicately throughout the whole film. The action is heart-pounding, with generally impressive CGI conceived for both the Hulk and his nemesis-du-jour, Abomination (Tim Roth). Roth is best when he isn't a giant green mass, but then again so is everyone. Grade: B

The Happening - M. Night Shyamalan (The Sixth Sense) has no shortage of antagonists; the critics pile on him seemingly before his movies hit screens. But his latest, a cautionary tale concerning an airborne toxin that causes it's victims to take their own lives, is worthy of at least some attention. Essentially a 90-minute Twilight Zone episode, the film stars Mark Wahlberg as a high school teacher and Zooey Deschanel as his estranged wife. Their lives are turned upside down when the epidemic hits, forcing them to flee from place to place. There are some interesting characters brought in and out of the story, not to mention some genuine chills from both otherworldly events and startlingly man-made ones. Not perfect, but not the crap some would have you believe. Grade: B-

You Don't Mess With the Zohan - This movie has zero female appeal, but let me just come out and say it: the male in all of us will eat it up. Adam Sandler stars as an Israeli counter-terrorist who admits to "feeling no pain". The cast is good: John Tuturro plays Zohan's arch rival "The Phantom", Rob Schneider shows up (of course), and even Chris Rock, Mariah Carey, Henry Winkler, and Kevin James each have hilarious cameos. The draw will be the slapstick nature of all the hooplah going on onscreen, not to mention the addictive sayings that the Zohan utilizes. ("So let's go", "I will destroy you", and "Why you do this?" are just some of them.) Better than I thought it'd be, but the bar was set pretty low. Grade: B

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Sun, 15 Jun 2008 18:14:29 GMT
just who is this korgan character?