Becky's B-Day Extravaganza 2006

Becky's actual birthday, on Wednesday. Middle fingers courtesy of Jenn and I, on our way to teppan at Yamato's w/ Becky and Laura.
Jenn, Becky, and me. Couple sake bombs in. However, no vomit behind the Kinko's, much to Tim's disappointment.
The gang. Brent, April w/ Alexa, Laura, Tim, Becky, Jenn, and me.
Medieval Times on Saturday. Sooper Dooper Long Islands. Thou art a drunken idiot.
My belligerent partner in crime.
Um...not sure. Glen possibly trying on an ill-fitting codpiece?
The Losingest Red Knight in history: Sir Brokeback.
Designated driver. Let's roll!
Without this woman, I'm nothing.
Tim enjoying his new wife's excellent cleavage.
I'm almost certain that this will come back to haunt both of us down the line.

Good times, good times.

Yes, it was a good idea to get some drinks at the Wood Ranch bar today during lunchtime. Yes, yes, 'twas a good idea.

Funny how 2 vodka tonics and a triple Southern Comfort can make your workplace just a little less spirit-deadening.

Good night.

Warm and Fuzzy

The following letter was forwarded by someone who teaches at a small high school in central Ontario. The letter was sent to the principal's office after the school had sponsored a luncheon for the elderly. This story is a credit to all humankind. Read it, soak it in, and bask in the warm feeling that it leaves you with.


Dear School,

God bless you for the beautiful radio I won at your recent senior citizen's luncheon. I'm 94 years old and live at the local Home for the Aged. My family has long since passed away and I rarely have visitors. As a result, I have very limited contact with the outside world. This makes your gift especially welcome.

My roommate, Maggie Cook, has had her own radio for as long as I've known her. She listens to it all the time, though usually with an earplug or with the volume so low, I can't hear it. For some reason, she has never wanted to share it.

Last Sunday morning, while listening to her morning gospel programs, she accidentally knocked her radio off its shelf. It smashed into many pieces, and caused her to cry. It was so sad.

Fortunately, I had my new radio. Knowing this, Maggie asked if she could listen to mine. I told her to fuck off.

God bless you.

Sincerely,
Edna Johnson

THE FREAKIN TRAILER

The trailer can now be embedded on your myspace, blog, or whatever accepts it. Go to YouTube.com and search for Local Bruisers. Copy the "embeddable player" link and paste it into your webpage as desired. Then rinse and repeat.

Cheney Will Destroy Your Commie Ass

Trailer for Pan's Labyrinth, directed by Guillermo Del Toro. The man does good work: Blade 2, Hellboy, Cronos, The Devil's Backbone...

Angelopoulos

Some stills from the movie "The Weeping Meadow" by Theo Angelopoulos, a Greek director whose films were the reason I started studying cinema.



And below, two stills from his film "Landscape In the Mist," which I could probably say had the most impact on my style.


These photos of the two children comforting each other on a desolate stretch of a windswept highway reminds me of the exact moment when I realized that filmmaking was the only option for me. I remember watching the credits roll at the end of the film, and feeling sick; dizzyingly, wonderfully sick....it was the sickness of trying to comprehend how such perfection could exist in any art form...how was it allowed to exist?

A Day Without A Tanaka Did Not Go So Well

Rooting around a box of old college stuff the other day, I came across some film essays I did during my time at CalArts for the numerous cinema history/critical theory classes that I had taken. I nearly forgot my old, semi-coherent, train of thought writing style that I had implemented during that time, and laughed at my (what must have been) seriously prodigious pair of balls to turn in something like that on a regular basis to my professors.

The first essay was supposed to have been a critical analysis of the very popular German movie "Run Lola Run." I had titled it "A Treatise On the Theory Of Vertiginous Movement: Run Lola Run and the Wehrmachtian Superwoman."

In the body of the paper itself, I found the following passage: "...what we are made to do is forcibly identify with our flame-haired protagonist, as a theory of momentum rather than flesh incarnate. The theory of vertiginous movement is one that states that a film is propelled by its forward action rather than plot or sequence, wherein the linear progression of her physical movement defines the previously undefined metaphysical law of cinematic structure itself."

A sphincter says what?

And then, at the end of the second page of this incomprehensible rhetoric, I found a comment left by an intrepid TA, who may have possibly been the most brilliant critical mind I have ever, never, met.

"You ate Ayn Rand and Kierkegaard, and vomited them up on this paper. Stop taking them drugs, buddy."

Daha!

Preview RUN LOLA RUN at www.videodetective.com