Something that really sticks in my craw, is when I hear a particular phrase being used by some of a certain age, a phrase that I only seem to catch out of context but to me casts that person in a light exposing that they have completely and utterly wasted their life. It’s usually in a restaurant, from a table of ladies, usually in their late sixties to early seventies, people I would never in my life attempt a conversation with- there were old people liked AT ONE POINT, they were relatives and they are dead now so Im done with that demographic- and these ladies are clearly old friends who get together from time to time to eat soup and ponder what a long strange trip its been, when on e of them says this.
“I never cared for MASH.”
And suddenly the entire conversation becomes the story of an old decrepid woman who must now face that her life has been utterly and tragically unlived.
Now I understand that these are not her dying words. She has not chosen to engrave them into any substantial rock of monument type structure. But the fact that after decades of life experience and time to reflect on those experiences, that in that moment the only pearl of wisdom she could conjure up was,
“I never cared for MASH.”
It sends shivers down my spine and paralyzes me with a fear that this journey toward self discovery called life can be so utterly misspent.
I tend to speak exclusively in clever aphorisms, just to make sure that I do not conceal even a fragment of the wisdom I have accrued in my 26 years of living to the motherfucking max. Granted, I am often drunk and surrounded by people who are not so, like at work. I realize that when I express thoughts like “Boxing is the workst sport, but boozing movies are the best sports movies.” It is foolish of me to expect a slow build of applause, followed by someone gently placing their hand on my shoulder and whispering and whispering the sweet vanilla scented nothing “They truly are Brendan, and now you have taught us what it is to be human.”
But seriously “I never cared for MASH” should never be said. I am not a MASH fan persay, I actually think Alan Alda’s political leanings make him highly suspect, it is not the lack of love for this TV institution that offends me. It is the finality of the statement, the implication that everything else this woman could possibly say has been laid on the table, and all future communications will relate to minor grievances with things that are otherwise beloved elements of the public conscience. I said earlier that the insipidity of a person’s words should not be held against them as they are not intended as their dying words, but seriously, when you are that old it probably should at least be a consideration. Do these women so regularly eat soup because they understand the reduced risk of choking?
So, out of fear that I will one day find myself at the end of life’s road, still tossing out glib pop cultural references that fall on indifferent ears, I just want to get something off my chest today.
I have beef with Frasier.
I state this now knowing that if I don’t not let the world know that I considered Frasier to be overrated and coasting from the day in 1993 that it debuted, I may find myself uttering it at an advanced age when the statements with transcend insipidity and make me into a tragic figure of negated passion and only shallow self knowledge.
I have beef with Frasier.
Yes, I said it twice, incase it was still rattling around there in my psyche, sending messages to my gut to start building a tumor out of the surplus of hate I was storing.
I figure with the way I drink and take poor care of myself, I may have less time on this earth than others. These things shouldn’t be rushed, but I still hope I am able to find a depth of humanity inside myself that makes me a worthwhile being.
Shit, I’ll probably fail, but it wont be because I am stuck working through my distaste for Frasier.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
It's been a while since I gave up on this thing. My prediction that the internet was about to go under was only partially right, and I figured I would cut my losses early.
That being said, lets blog some shit up again. I'm still a waiter at an unnamed corporate chain restaurant and think more of simply jumping a boxcar everyday. Barring that, I could just find a job that isn't essentially the peddling of C grade cheese.
Problem is, my highly unprofessional attitude and alcohol addled brain can't quite get it together to self myself in any useful way. I spent a lot of time in the woods this week and came up with this, 100% true to myself, cover letter. Anybody reading this?
Dear Hiring person,
I am writing to apply for the position of XXXXX. XXXX is a fast moving company and an outstanding communications pioneer, now poised to redefine the current format of, I'm just fucking with you, I don't know what your company does.
As a recent graduate from the University of Southern Maine, I bring a strong understanding of media dynamics, public relations, and organizational skills to know you on your ass. All this combined with my bad boy with a heart of gold persona makes me a perfect fit to aid you in the overthrow of the current regime.
As a waiter at an unnamed corporate franchise, I endure my own personal hell daily and would lick your boots for a shot at doing anything else. And I mean anything.
This desperation, combined with a spacey and theoretically based understanding of media, put me in a prime disposition to rock your socks off and throw a lot of shit in the air for you to sort out when it lands.
What I am applying for.
Please note that this has all been very clear and concise.
That being said, lets blog some shit up again. I'm still a waiter at an unnamed corporate chain restaurant and think more of simply jumping a boxcar everyday. Barring that, I could just find a job that isn't essentially the peddling of C grade cheese.
Problem is, my highly unprofessional attitude and alcohol addled brain can't quite get it together to self myself in any useful way. I spent a lot of time in the woods this week and came up with this, 100% true to myself, cover letter. Anybody reading this?
Dear Hiring person,
I am writing to apply for the position of XXXXX. XXXX is a fast moving company and an outstanding communications pioneer, now poised to redefine the current format of, I'm just fucking with you, I don't know what your company does.
As a recent graduate from the University of Southern Maine, I bring a strong understanding of media dynamics, public relations, and organizational skills to know you on your ass. All this combined with my bad boy with a heart of gold persona makes me a perfect fit to aid you in the overthrow of the current regime.
As a waiter at an unnamed corporate franchise, I endure my own personal hell daily and would lick your boots for a shot at doing anything else. And I mean anything.
This desperation, combined with a spacey and theoretically based understanding of media, put me in a prime disposition to rock your socks off and throw a lot of shit in the air for you to sort out when it lands.
What I am applying for.
Please note that this has all been very clear and concise.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Hey, what would movie with Roy Scheider, Minnie Driver, and Ice Cube be like?
Pardon me, I just need to begin typing now, I hope it isn’t a problem. The task I have lent myself is to imagine what a movie starring Minnie Driver, Ice Cube, and Roy Scheider would be like. This film will, of course, never come to fruition as Mr. Scheider passed away earlier this year and the other two actors would simply be too explosive on screen together in a way that would endanger the film stock. But what would such a movie be like? Man will ask this question for centuries, that is unless I can answer it tonight, here, alone at three in the morning, to save the world from endless conjecture and frustration.
Lets say that Mr. Schneider is the CEO of a company that produces the type of cheap liquor you see homeless people drinking because of its enhanced high gravity alcohol content and cost effective pricing. Why, I saw a homeless man just today hiding a can of the immensely popular Steel Reserve under his winter coat and he reclined on the front steps of an apartment building I imagine he fantasizes about living in. There was something very sexy about his devil may care attitude, his disdain for traditional summer clothing and beard cleaning rituals. This of course has nothing to do with Mr Scheider role in the movie, its is simply a meditation on the roll that cheap malt liquor plays in all of our lives.
Roy Schieder’s character is plagued with hate mail from groups who feel that his brand unfairly targets the economically deprived, aggravating the problems of the impoverished by allowing them a more highly alcoholic beverage at a greater quantity. But get this, Mr Scheider’s character agrees with them, he is simply too shy to confront his board of directors on the matter. Please, bask in the irony that he is as broken a man as the people who's lives his product ruins.
Enter Ice Cube, the wisecracking cabby who becomes an unintentional community activist after a rant of his ends up on television in what was intended as a puff piece to promote a completely ineffective community outreach program. Journalist Minnie Driver loses her job for refusing to go with that human interest story but becomes Ice Cubes new best friend, well, not his best friend, but she certainly enhances his role as a community activist in a way that moves forward the plot.
Needless to say, this is a ripping satire and the companies that produce cheap malt liquor will surely be quaking in their respective boots when they see the inevitable confrontation between the Ice Cube and Roy Scheider's respective characters. Not that they will ever see that since this is purely hypothetical. Fill in the gaps for yourself, but I think we can all rest easier now that I have cleared up what a movie starring Ice Cube, Minnie Driver, and Roy Scheider would have been like. It would have been called Sloshed or something, because Ice Cube’s character would have been called John Slosh (A Name that is very popular in the black community, John I mean) and the mayhem he wreaks on the CEO’s life would have made the supporting players say things like “You got sloshed, baby!”
Did I mention I used to drink a lot of Steel Reserve and the like? I stopped because I realized it isn’t meant to be consumed in doors.
Lets say that Mr. Schneider is the CEO of a company that produces the type of cheap liquor you see homeless people drinking because of its enhanced high gravity alcohol content and cost effective pricing. Why, I saw a homeless man just today hiding a can of the immensely popular Steel Reserve under his winter coat and he reclined on the front steps of an apartment building I imagine he fantasizes about living in. There was something very sexy about his devil may care attitude, his disdain for traditional summer clothing and beard cleaning rituals. This of course has nothing to do with Mr Scheider role in the movie, its is simply a meditation on the roll that cheap malt liquor plays in all of our lives.
Roy Schieder’s character is plagued with hate mail from groups who feel that his brand unfairly targets the economically deprived, aggravating the problems of the impoverished by allowing them a more highly alcoholic beverage at a greater quantity. But get this, Mr Scheider’s character agrees with them, he is simply too shy to confront his board of directors on the matter. Please, bask in the irony that he is as broken a man as the people who's lives his product ruins.
Enter Ice Cube, the wisecracking cabby who becomes an unintentional community activist after a rant of his ends up on television in what was intended as a puff piece to promote a completely ineffective community outreach program. Journalist Minnie Driver loses her job for refusing to go with that human interest story but becomes Ice Cubes new best friend, well, not his best friend, but she certainly enhances his role as a community activist in a way that moves forward the plot.
Needless to say, this is a ripping satire and the companies that produce cheap malt liquor will surely be quaking in their respective boots when they see the inevitable confrontation between the Ice Cube and Roy Scheider's respective characters. Not that they will ever see that since this is purely hypothetical. Fill in the gaps for yourself, but I think we can all rest easier now that I have cleared up what a movie starring Ice Cube, Minnie Driver, and Roy Scheider would have been like. It would have been called Sloshed or something, because Ice Cube’s character would have been called John Slosh (A Name that is very popular in the black community, John I mean) and the mayhem he wreaks on the CEO’s life would have made the supporting players say things like “You got sloshed, baby!”
Did I mention I used to drink a lot of Steel Reserve and the like? I stopped because I realized it isn’t meant to be consumed in doors.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
I am published now!
So, haven't posted here for a while. I decided that pop culture was commented on enough. What is there really left to say about the Incredible Hulk or Indiana Jones? Is life so long that I should lament the supremely unsatisfying nature of CG effects? Besides. I've entered the upper echelon as I am now key player in The Onion AV Club. That's right, they published my immaculately worded letter regarding the unattainability of old school Letterman episodes, answered by no less than chief editor Nathan Rabin. I didn't really think they would include may gushing praise of sir Rabin, and his answer was not all that informative, but fucking A, my words appeared on The Onion AV Club.
blogger.com sucks at making links work so cut and paste this:
http://www.avclub.com/articles/ask-the-av-club-june-20-2008,2351/
This is the basic equivalent of a pussy hound getting his letter published in the forum section of Hustler. Also, the only fruits to date of a BA in Media Criticism, maybe the only fruits ever.
Here's what I want:
blogger.com sucks at making links work so cut and paste this:
http://www.avclub.com/articles/ask-the-av-club-june-20-2008,2351/
This is the basic equivalent of a pussy hound getting his letter published in the forum section of Hustler. Also, the only fruits to date of a BA in Media Criticism, maybe the only fruits ever.
Here's what I want:
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
So, Indiana Jones and the Impossible To Satisfy Expectations opens tomorrow, so perhaps a mediation on just what Dr. Jones and party has meant to me.
I oft attribute the misery of my twenties to the fact that niether the world or myself has turned out to be as intersting as I had hoped in my adolesence. Scratch that, the world is probably very interesting, am just not invited to the best parts of it for being such a dullard. In adolescence, I imagined my friends and I to be future revolutionaries who would change everything once we got the chance to, athough, this may not be the source of my disontent. While I found myself recently sitting alone in a diner, writng a letter to aforementioned estranged friends, longing for their companionship, it is probabaly not them who left me disappointed with reality, but my earnest reformist quality may ae served s a bridge of the obnoxiousness I learned before adolescense.
You see, I never forgave the world for not being as exciting as Raiders of the Lost Ark. When I was nine I believed I could play a catalyst to adventure by adopting a stoic disposition and acting if I expected an abrupt escalaton of events that never occured.
That's actually giving myself too much credit. I was denied the stoicism gene that my father posseses in spades, and could only commuinicate my interest in ROTLA through my natural blabbermouth quality, inserting forced references into most sentences. Upon arrrivng at my older brother Sean's college dorm room for a visit, bearing the gift of KFC, I offered him the food plus this qip,
"Raiders of the Lost Chicken, anyone?"
So yeah, I was born witty.
So anyway, my abilty to hang out in dorms was about as bad at 9 as it was at 18, when my parents left me alone with Sean for the afternoon, I had the rare opportunity to alienate people twice my age, something I still do now wth 50 year olds and will only stop doing in twenty five years when those twice my age are all centurians. Here's where the frisson of awkward really came into play: because I could only talk about one thing, ROTLA, my brother's chill Vermont, Phish fan friends placated me by feigning interest in the movie. Asked if I actually knew what Nazis were, responded
"Sure, they killed Jewish people."
And at that moment, a Jewish coed walked by and I was informed that it was in bad taste to mention such things. By the end of the day, because no one listens to blabber mouth kids, it was communicated tomy parents that I was omhow endorsing the nazi party. Now does this really make sense? I, Dr. Jones' most devout follower, had suddenly flipped to the other party? That's slander you fuckers, slander I say?
I got a stern taking to, cried myself to sleep, and leanred an important lesson: I should not talk lest I inadvedntly offen people on the deepest of levels. It's what keeps me obessessively private today, and has saved society a slew of bother since roughly 1992.
So yeah, I am realy excited to see Indiana Jones and the Franchise ofthe Bearded Bros now that I have attributed it some low level child hood trauma. Man, I must really think I am intereting to be posting this feckless shit. Maybe I'll write tomorrow about how Threes Company confused my sense of gender relations.
Still, I did not learn from that experience because it appears my ability to offend runs paraleel to the villains of the Indiana Jones series. Now that Dr. Jones must contend with the Soviets instead of Nazis, I, naturally, have updated who I choose to offend. Junstiyna, a charming Polish immmigrant I wait tables with, spent her first 11 years living under Soviet rule. I, in turn, often show up to work wearing a USSR t--shirt ( why do I own it? I dunno why do they sell them?) and procaliming myself to me of the Marxist persuasion. Justyna has not said anything, althogh i havebeen told lately that I "Dont have the fans" like a better socialzed (I'm a socialist, how can I be badly socialized? maybe 'adjusted' is a better word) person would. So thanks, Indiana Jones, whomever you fight, i subconsciously decide to offend those whom they opressed in real life.
Atleast I didn't meet any Hindues until I was 18 (Temple of Doom is a little racist toward th Indians) and had long dismissed The Last Crusade by the time my father became a Papal Knight, sort of like the Knight pf the crusades who guards all the cups a the en of that movie. Crusading knights were sent by the Pope, I think. Popes were like the Haliburton CEOs of The Crusades.
One upside, when I did finally make it to college, I totally identiied the scene in Rashomon that Raiders pays tribute to. and atlast I didn't spend 5 years making a shot for shot remake like these kids did.
Shit, that's acutaly really cool. Most of all for lack of anti semitism.
I oft attribute the misery of my twenties to the fact that niether the world or myself has turned out to be as intersting as I had hoped in my adolesence. Scratch that, the world is probably very interesting, am just not invited to the best parts of it for being such a dullard. In adolescence, I imagined my friends and I to be future revolutionaries who would change everything once we got the chance to, athough, this may not be the source of my disontent. While I found myself recently sitting alone in a diner, writng a letter to aforementioned estranged friends, longing for their companionship, it is probabaly not them who left me disappointed with reality, but my earnest reformist quality may ae served s a bridge of the obnoxiousness I learned before adolescense.
You see, I never forgave the world for not being as exciting as Raiders of the Lost Ark. When I was nine I believed I could play a catalyst to adventure by adopting a stoic disposition and acting if I expected an abrupt escalaton of events that never occured.
That's actually giving myself too much credit. I was denied the stoicism gene that my father posseses in spades, and could only commuinicate my interest in ROTLA through my natural blabbermouth quality, inserting forced references into most sentences. Upon arrrivng at my older brother Sean's college dorm room for a visit, bearing the gift of KFC, I offered him the food plus this qip,
"Raiders of the Lost Chicken, anyone?"
So yeah, I was born witty.
So anyway, my abilty to hang out in dorms was about as bad at 9 as it was at 18, when my parents left me alone with Sean for the afternoon, I had the rare opportunity to alienate people twice my age, something I still do now wth 50 year olds and will only stop doing in twenty five years when those twice my age are all centurians. Here's where the frisson of awkward really came into play: because I could only talk about one thing, ROTLA, my brother's chill Vermont, Phish fan friends placated me by feigning interest in the movie. Asked if I actually knew what Nazis were, responded
"Sure, they killed Jewish people."
And at that moment, a Jewish coed walked by and I was informed that it was in bad taste to mention such things. By the end of the day, because no one listens to blabber mouth kids, it was communicated tomy parents that I was omhow endorsing the nazi party. Now does this really make sense? I, Dr. Jones' most devout follower, had suddenly flipped to the other party? That's slander you fuckers, slander I say?
I got a stern taking to, cried myself to sleep, and leanred an important lesson: I should not talk lest I inadvedntly offen people on the deepest of levels. It's what keeps me obessessively private today, and has saved society a slew of bother since roughly 1992.
So yeah, I am realy excited to see Indiana Jones and the Franchise ofthe Bearded Bros now that I have attributed it some low level child hood trauma. Man, I must really think I am intereting to be posting this feckless shit. Maybe I'll write tomorrow about how Threes Company confused my sense of gender relations.
Still, I did not learn from that experience because it appears my ability to offend runs paraleel to the villains of the Indiana Jones series. Now that Dr. Jones must contend with the Soviets instead of Nazis, I, naturally, have updated who I choose to offend. Junstiyna, a charming Polish immmigrant I wait tables with, spent her first 11 years living under Soviet rule. I, in turn, often show up to work wearing a USSR t--shirt ( why do I own it? I dunno why do they sell them?) and procaliming myself to me of the Marxist persuasion. Justyna has not said anything, althogh i havebeen told lately that I "Dont have the fans" like a better socialzed (I'm a socialist, how can I be badly socialized? maybe 'adjusted' is a better word) person would. So thanks, Indiana Jones, whomever you fight, i subconsciously decide to offend those whom they opressed in real life.
Atleast I didn't meet any Hindues until I was 18 (Temple of Doom is a little racist toward th Indians) and had long dismissed The Last Crusade by the time my father became a Papal Knight, sort of like the Knight pf the crusades who guards all the cups a the en of that movie. Crusading knights were sent by the Pope, I think. Popes were like the Haliburton CEOs of The Crusades.
One upside, when I did finally make it to college, I totally identiied the scene in Rashomon that Raiders pays tribute to. and atlast I didn't spend 5 years making a shot for shot remake like these kids did.
Shit, that's acutaly really cool. Most of all for lack of anti semitism.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Speed Racer/Erick the mildly autistic gay dishwasher Reviewed
With Bound and The Matrix, the Wachowski brothers established themselves as innovative auters in the medium of film. With Speed Racer, they are just being dicks about it.
Apparently aiming to turn the childhood sensation of spinning around 100 times into something marketable, Speed Racer induced many yawns between me and my date and only deserves commendation for inspiring the weirdest fucking interactions with a coworker I can recall. Let me take you back to an innocent pre-Speed Racer era known as last Thursday.
Erick (the middle aged gay dishwasher at Pizza Hut who might have a touch of the Aspergers syndrome.) : Hey, did you hear about that movie that looks like Tron?
Yes! that's the most apt thing that can be said about Speed Racer, it's a movie that sort of looks like Tron, although it's actually much worse than that. Much like the latter Matrix films, the Wachowski's seem to still make good movies but lose them in editing as their egos will not sacrifice a single beloved shot. They've said the Matrix was the result of just using every idea they ever had in one film and, because they keep repeating this approach, the rules of the sophomore slump still haunt their senior feature.
Anyway, back to Erick.
I told Erick that I was going to quote him when I saw and reviewed Speed Racer but I think I would rather review the rest of our interaction. Upon learning I had a website, he suggested that I install a live web cam at either gay night club Styx or Deering Oaks park, which I suppose he thinks is a latenight hotspot for gay men. A half hour later, Erick was still keen on the subject, suggesting I write and shoot a gay porn. I should mention that Erick probably utters less than fifty words to anyone nightly, so these aren't the offerings of a natural extrovert, this is what he is saving his voice for. By the end of the night he was describing me a plot line for a character driven (gay) film he had been apparently been conceiving of for a while
"So there's this young guy, he moves to Portland from Skowhegan, he doesn't know anybody so he gets a job as a Barista...."
Since Erick is a dishwasher and I am a waiter, I have the gift of mobility while he is bound to a station. By which I mean, I can walk away when he creeps me out, the way people are always doing to me. So I never heard the graphic details of his proposed Gay boy from Skowhegan film and yet, almost 24 hours later, Erick had not missed a beat in his string of gay cinematic ambitions. He must have been up all night writing down new ideas to spring on me upon my return to tha Hut, and yet, I was not sold. I here by vow that this page will never be a forum for gay pornography, just overwrought reviews of stuff. So thank you Speed Racer (which I kind of liked but wish didn't exist because I am offended by its pomp and excess) you "look like Tron" and inspired the weirdest series of Gay ideas I have ever heard from a mildly autistic dishwasher.
Apparently aiming to turn the childhood sensation of spinning around 100 times into something marketable, Speed Racer induced many yawns between me and my date and only deserves commendation for inspiring the weirdest fucking interactions with a coworker I can recall. Let me take you back to an innocent pre-Speed Racer era known as last Thursday.
Erick (the middle aged gay dishwasher at Pizza Hut who might have a touch of the Aspergers syndrome.) : Hey, did you hear about that movie that looks like Tron?
Yes! that's the most apt thing that can be said about Speed Racer, it's a movie that sort of looks like Tron, although it's actually much worse than that. Much like the latter Matrix films, the Wachowski's seem to still make good movies but lose them in editing as their egos will not sacrifice a single beloved shot. They've said the Matrix was the result of just using every idea they ever had in one film and, because they keep repeating this approach, the rules of the sophomore slump still haunt their senior feature.
Anyway, back to Erick.
I told Erick that I was going to quote him when I saw and reviewed Speed Racer but I think I would rather review the rest of our interaction. Upon learning I had a website, he suggested that I install a live web cam at either gay night club Styx or Deering Oaks park, which I suppose he thinks is a latenight hotspot for gay men. A half hour later, Erick was still keen on the subject, suggesting I write and shoot a gay porn. I should mention that Erick probably utters less than fifty words to anyone nightly, so these aren't the offerings of a natural extrovert, this is what he is saving his voice for. By the end of the night he was describing me a plot line for a character driven (gay) film he had been apparently been conceiving of for a while
"So there's this young guy, he moves to Portland from Skowhegan, he doesn't know anybody so he gets a job as a Barista...."
Since Erick is a dishwasher and I am a waiter, I have the gift of mobility while he is bound to a station. By which I mean, I can walk away when he creeps me out, the way people are always doing to me. So I never heard the graphic details of his proposed Gay boy from Skowhegan film and yet, almost 24 hours later, Erick had not missed a beat in his string of gay cinematic ambitions. He must have been up all night writing down new ideas to spring on me upon my return to tha Hut, and yet, I was not sold. I here by vow that this page will never be a forum for gay pornography, just overwrought reviews of stuff. So thank you Speed Racer (which I kind of liked but wish didn't exist because I am offended by its pomp and excess) you "look like Tron" and inspired the weirdest series of Gay ideas I have ever heard from a mildly autistic dishwasher.
Friday, May 9, 2008
College Reviewed
Didn't like it, took a really long time, lost most of the friends I made, developed a drinking problem ( would have happened anyway), was bored and frustrated the whole time, picked cake walk major and still could barely muster the effort.
That being said, my attitude may have been the problem.
It's over now!
That being said, my attitude may have been the problem.
It's over now!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
The Plantation System in Southern Life (1950) Reviewed
I am worried that this is becoming "just some blog" since i started talk9ng about myself and posting stuff from Youtube. But this isn't just some blog, this is a forum for reviewing whatever obscure artifacts I can lay my eyes on, a mission articulated in the first post. So let me fulfill the promise i made that day, to review an educational documentary on the slave system from 1950.
To be honest, with part one of this doc I was a little disappointed to find a neutral portrayal of the slave system intended for post WWII fifth graders. It was described to me as an anachronistic endorsement of that system, a last ditch effort to bring slavery back in the mid twentieth century. Toward the end of part one, however, I did notice that they slave owners were getting off pretty easy.
"The planter and slaves were part of an unusual class system." Says the narrator in his now iconic neutral tone. Why yes, that class system was very unusual now that I think of it. Not oppressive or tragic, just unusual, thanks for pointing out that little nuance.
so anyway, part 2 kicks up the weird. The narrator poses the question "Did this plantation life influence the modern south?" Did the Beatles influence the Monkeys? He then begins to make his case "The land cultivated for generations, remained. The source of labor, great numbers of negros, remained." And here's where he blows your mind. You probably assumed the civil war ended the plantation system, maybe you weren't aware that land and great supplies of negros remained. I cannot even describe the frisson that the announcer gives the word remained. You get the point, the plantation system is still going in 1950. Now go read the synopsis of Lars Von Triers second installment in his (aborted) America is bad trilogy, Manderlay (2005).
Eerie, huh?
Notice how the documentary filmmakers mirror shots from part one and part 2 in which the landowner walks straight back into the house while 2 laborers walk diagonally back toward the field.
"Economic and social patterns have left a lasting influence throughout the South." i thought this this shot should have been followed up with a shot of separate water fountains, but what the narrator says next is even better as they cut to a barbecue of impeccably dressed white folk. "Today if we visit a social gathering in the south we will see some of these influences." I'll bet. southern hospitality, "The gentle manners and courtesy, the separation of society into distinct groups." I shit you not, following that line the only black person at the party walks across the screen carrying a tray of food. "These are some things the plantation system has contributed into southern life."
Were the filmmakers aware that they were making a subversive documentary on race relations and commerce? I think the neutrality had to mask some contempt but I can only imagin the elementary school kids watching this in 1950, learning about how the south had different social groups, glad that they weren't in the group that carried the trays.
To be honest, with part one of this doc I was a little disappointed to find a neutral portrayal of the slave system intended for post WWII fifth graders. It was described to me as an anachronistic endorsement of that system, a last ditch effort to bring slavery back in the mid twentieth century. Toward the end of part one, however, I did notice that they slave owners were getting off pretty easy.
"The planter and slaves were part of an unusual class system." Says the narrator in his now iconic neutral tone. Why yes, that class system was very unusual now that I think of it. Not oppressive or tragic, just unusual, thanks for pointing out that little nuance.
so anyway, part 2 kicks up the weird. The narrator poses the question "Did this plantation life influence the modern south?" Did the Beatles influence the Monkeys? He then begins to make his case "The land cultivated for generations, remained. The source of labor, great numbers of negros, remained." And here's where he blows your mind. You probably assumed the civil war ended the plantation system, maybe you weren't aware that land and great supplies of negros remained. I cannot even describe the frisson that the announcer gives the word remained. You get the point, the plantation system is still going in 1950. Now go read the synopsis of Lars Von Triers second installment in his (aborted) America is bad trilogy, Manderlay (2005).
Eerie, huh?
Notice how the documentary filmmakers mirror shots from part one and part 2 in which the landowner walks straight back into the house while 2 laborers walk diagonally back toward the field.
"Economic and social patterns have left a lasting influence throughout the South." i thought this this shot should have been followed up with a shot of separate water fountains, but what the narrator says next is even better as they cut to a barbecue of impeccably dressed white folk. "Today if we visit a social gathering in the south we will see some of these influences." I'll bet. southern hospitality, "The gentle manners and courtesy, the separation of society into distinct groups." I shit you not, following that line the only black person at the party walks across the screen carrying a tray of food. "These are some things the plantation system has contributed into southern life."
Were the filmmakers aware that they were making a subversive documentary on race relations and commerce? I think the neutrality had to mask some contempt but I can only imagin the elementary school kids watching this in 1950, learning about how the south had different social groups, glad that they weren't in the group that carried the trays.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Danial Dushane Reviewed
The main reason this site exists is that Danial Dushane wouldn't let me make a documentary about him so I had to do this for a class project instead. My resentment has had proper time to fester, and while I wont go into the history of Mr Dushane being a pupil of mine before crossing over to the non cooperative hipster side, I did make this little feature....
Actually, that isn't finished processing in Youtube, but to stimulate your interest in synthesizers look at this:
Actually, that isn't finished processing in Youtube, but to stimulate your interest in synthesizers look at this:
Monday, April 28, 2008
APPLETON RADIO, for reals?
So, this exists.
APPLETON RADIO
Apparently it's a streaming radio station the plays ONLY Maine hip hop and electronic.
Who knew?
APPLETON RADIO
Apparently it's a streaming radio station the plays ONLY Maine hip hop and electronic.
Who knew?
Virgina Tech, NPR, Brendan Cassidy Media Sensation!
I almost forgot! I fulfilled my life long dream of hearing my voice on National Public Radio. Ideally i would have been speaking to Terry Gross about my innovations in hip hop and screenwriting, but Tom Porter is no slack. I helped organize the April 16 Lie In at USM to commemorate the Virgina Tech shootings and stepped in to create the impression that the student body is really really emphatically concerned about regulating the sale of firearms at gun shows.
I spoke directly to Tom Porter and I cant lie to you, it was really gay. He pointed a huge phallic microphone at me and talked in this fake British accent, everything you would expect from an NPR reporter. Mr. Porter was actually at Virginia Tech when the shit went down last year so our interaction went something like this:
Tom Porter: Thank you Brendan Cassidy, for organizing this symbolic and under attended demonstration. For exactly one year I lived in fear of all college campuses, but now academia is safe again, thanks to you.
Brendan "Oral-B" Cassidy: Don't thank me Tom Porter of NPR. Thank, actually me is good, I like being thanked.
Nevermind that the demonstration was part of my service learning practicum and my enthusiasm was actually being graded, as far as Maine Things Considered is concerned, I am just a really passionate guy who makes hilarious analogies about ping pong and handguns. So those guys might live off of our support, but they are totally the ones who are suckers.
One More thing: the teaser trailer to the movie we're making of the demonstration. The Frisson of Iconoclasm.
I spoke directly to Tom Porter and I cant lie to you, it was really gay. He pointed a huge phallic microphone at me and talked in this fake British accent, everything you would expect from an NPR reporter. Mr. Porter was actually at Virginia Tech when the shit went down last year so our interaction went something like this:
Tom Porter: Thank you Brendan Cassidy, for organizing this symbolic and under attended demonstration. For exactly one year I lived in fear of all college campuses, but now academia is safe again, thanks to you.
Brendan "Oral-B" Cassidy: Don't thank me Tom Porter of NPR. Thank, actually me is good, I like being thanked.
Nevermind that the demonstration was part of my service learning practicum and my enthusiasm was actually being graded, as far as Maine Things Considered is concerned, I am just a really passionate guy who makes hilarious analogies about ping pong and handguns. So those guys might live off of our support, but they are totally the ones who are suckers.
One More thing: the teaser trailer to the movie we're making of the demonstration. The Frisson of Iconoclasm.
State of the Union
So lets have a serious chat here, shall we? What are we doing here, I mean, what do you hope to get out of this? I tell you that I am going to do a writeup of everything I view or listen to, but c'mon, it's so obvious, I am not a superman. My bones are too brittle to type up all the shit I expose myself to, and what is "viewing" anyway. Am I too say that I "viewed" Imaginary Heroes on Saturday because I watched the first half of it, intermittently leaving to smoke cigarettes on my porch and rehearsing the three guitar chords I know (Incidentally, I am up to 3 chords! I can start a punk band now!)?
I am tired of making promises I can not keep. where is the review of the southern plantation documentary? I am sure as hell not doing a write up of the Mathnet episodes I found on youtube. This just isn't fair to you that I keep setting expectations and setting back into my old ways. I wanted to even tell you about the video of Prince performing Radiohead's Creep at Coachella this weekend but I am not even sure I am up to that. Actually, here it is:
wow, I don't even like Prince but that made me wish Scorcese had thought of filming Shine A Light on his camera phone.
I have posted some links to the sites that were the clear inspiration to this erratic writing and viewing style of Later Haters. One I love, one I hate, one I should view more and be smarter. Let's start with hate; Aititcool news is a bunch of wannabe movie insiders who can't get a screenplay made and feel that because their childhoods were so based around watching movies that the studio system somehow owes them and should cater to their needs. They cannot write a simple proffessional review without first talking about their uninteresting selves for 1500 words, infact they pride themselves on this. They are geeks though and through and the sites founder, Harry Knowles, cannot survive much longer at his current weight. I have viewed this sight ewvery day for the past 7 years because they collect and post reviews from test screenings and I fucking love hearing about movies months befor ethey are released. sadly, very few of the pople who send in these reviews can write very well, and they have probably affected me a great deal. I could have been reading Faulkner in that time. Faulk them.
The Onion AV Club is similarly self indulgent except that their writers are witty, insightful, and clearly have honed their crafts. Whatsmore, I have to go through the main Onion sight to get to it, of which I am very fond. I find Nathan Rabin to be a kindred soul, all though if I remember correctly he was featured on a movie panel show a couple of years back, the commercials for which touted him as the depressive cynic of the bunch. Like I said, a kindred soul, his Year In Flops feature was just about the best thing since sliced banana bread and faulk him for ending it just because the year did.
Listening Post I don't really read at all, but I heard this guy talk to Terry Gross on Fresh air last month and he is seriously faulking smart. Music, I guess, is digital now, like wrist watches except that while time is money, music is now faulking free free free. Mr. Eliot Van Buskirk has the whole changing if the guard of the music industry figured out. Listen to him, I'm going to.
so the point I started out with is that I am terrible at maintaining Later haters with any sense of continual theme. Did you get that I was framing the issue as though were were having a discussion at the end of a bad relationship? Good, I'm glad you got that. But now I have helped you move on to better sites and I am sure we will meet on the street one day and choke on the poignancy that comes when old lovers meet.
Oh, also: what's with this shit of having to go through blogger.com? Later Haters now is a register domain, so as soon as I figure out how to transfer this night template thing to my own site, I will. This is how Diablo Cody did it, right? she just started typing nonsense one day and then she had a book and an Oscar winning screenplay? I hope being interesting and smart wasn't a prerequisite for that.
I am tired of making promises I can not keep. where is the review of the southern plantation documentary? I am sure as hell not doing a write up of the Mathnet episodes I found on youtube. This just isn't fair to you that I keep setting expectations and setting back into my old ways. I wanted to even tell you about the video of Prince performing Radiohead's Creep at Coachella this weekend but I am not even sure I am up to that. Actually, here it is:
wow, I don't even like Prince but that made me wish Scorcese had thought of filming Shine A Light on his camera phone.
I have posted some links to the sites that were the clear inspiration to this erratic writing and viewing style of Later Haters. One I love, one I hate, one I should view more and be smarter. Let's start with hate; Aititcool news is a bunch of wannabe movie insiders who can't get a screenplay made and feel that because their childhoods were so based around watching movies that the studio system somehow owes them and should cater to their needs. They cannot write a simple proffessional review without first talking about their uninteresting selves for 1500 words, infact they pride themselves on this. They are geeks though and through and the sites founder, Harry Knowles, cannot survive much longer at his current weight. I have viewed this sight ewvery day for the past 7 years because they collect and post reviews from test screenings and I fucking love hearing about movies months befor ethey are released. sadly, very few of the pople who send in these reviews can write very well, and they have probably affected me a great deal. I could have been reading Faulkner in that time. Faulk them.
The Onion AV Club is similarly self indulgent except that their writers are witty, insightful, and clearly have honed their crafts. Whatsmore, I have to go through the main Onion sight to get to it, of which I am very fond. I find Nathan Rabin to be a kindred soul, all though if I remember correctly he was featured on a movie panel show a couple of years back, the commercials for which touted him as the depressive cynic of the bunch. Like I said, a kindred soul, his Year In Flops feature was just about the best thing since sliced banana bread and faulk him for ending it just because the year did.
Listening Post I don't really read at all, but I heard this guy talk to Terry Gross on Fresh air last month and he is seriously faulking smart. Music, I guess, is digital now, like wrist watches except that while time is money, music is now faulking free free free. Mr. Eliot Van Buskirk has the whole changing if the guard of the music industry figured out. Listen to him, I'm going to.
so the point I started out with is that I am terrible at maintaining Later haters with any sense of continual theme. Did you get that I was framing the issue as though were were having a discussion at the end of a bad relationship? Good, I'm glad you got that. But now I have helped you move on to better sites and I am sure we will meet on the street one day and choke on the poignancy that comes when old lovers meet.
Oh, also: what's with this shit of having to go through blogger.com? Later Haters now is a register domain, so as soon as I figure out how to transfer this night template thing to my own site, I will. This is how Diablo Cody did it, right? she just started typing nonsense one day and then she had a book and an Oscar winning screenplay? I hope being interesting and smart wasn't a prerequisite for that.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
So here is the deal my loving public: I just accidentally deleted most of my review of the novelty hit Cloverfield. I am biiter, hungover, and hate this concept of reviewing everything media related I view. Whatsmore, Im already cheating because I didn’t write up the NPR I listened to yesterday and it pains me to admit I watched, let alone have to recap, viewing Wild Hogs. Yes Wild Hogs, sorry, I am a Ray Liotta completionist.
So Cloverfield, I will try to evoke the energy and enthusiasm I had writing this review the first time but I apologize, that comes but ones in a hungover lifetime.
Cloverfield opens with camcorder footage of someone looking down from a Manhattten skyrise in the wee hours of the morning. He goes on to toss strawberries in the mouth of his Victoria Secret looking friend, of whom he has just acquired the benefits of, and it is immediately clear to the audiecne that this mother must die. But here’s the catch, it takes 80 minutes plus a Lovecraft inspired monster for this dude to bite the big one. He could have just slipped on something!
I guess its verite week at Later Haters because cloverfield definitely meets the Wikipedia definition.
“a style of filmmaking, combining naturalistic techniques that originated in documentary filmmaking, with stylized cinematic devices of editing and camerawork, staged set-ups, and the use of the camera to provoke subjects.”
Yup, check, check, check. So lets take that up a notch and say that this is 9-11 inspired vertite. That’s right folk, you don’t make a movie about towers falling in NY city, people fleeing city blocks as clouds of smoky debris follow them in clip, and, uh, the triump of the human spirit? Any way, that’s right, the Cloverfield monster, with its endless reproduction of insect like splinter organisms, reckless hatred for america, and lack of a clear identity, is Al Queda. Duh.
But here is where forces collide. You are making a Blair Witch inspired movie, filmed in the first person, a giant monster is an abvious metaphore for the 9-11 attacks, and in which the camera operator keeps filming through the most dire situations and constantly reassures us “I’ve got to document this, people are going to want to know what happened.” All good, sort of, here’s the thing: no one grabbed a camera and filmed everything on 9/11. Nobody was really concerned about capturing the moment for posterity as towers were falling. It’s all wack.
Cloverfielf relies on the motivation that the guy filming from the skyrise on the opening scene was so incensed that his one time fling girlfriend brough another dude to his going away party -even though they hadn’t spoken since they fucked- that he had to journey back into the falling city. All good, except who fucking cares what happens to some flustered Abercrombie models? By films end I was sorry to see the awesome monster be killed by the totally egregious military…or was he? There is a sequel in the works, let’s not go and plant a tree instead.
My bitterness is revoked, I just found out Mathnet is on youtube and will be reviwed shortly. Here’s a teaser:
So Cloverfield, I will try to evoke the energy and enthusiasm I had writing this review the first time but I apologize, that comes but ones in a hungover lifetime.
Cloverfield opens with camcorder footage of someone looking down from a Manhattten skyrise in the wee hours of the morning. He goes on to toss strawberries in the mouth of his Victoria Secret looking friend, of whom he has just acquired the benefits of, and it is immediately clear to the audiecne that this mother must die. But here’s the catch, it takes 80 minutes plus a Lovecraft inspired monster for this dude to bite the big one. He could have just slipped on something!
I guess its verite week at Later Haters because cloverfield definitely meets the Wikipedia definition.
“a style of filmmaking, combining naturalistic techniques that originated in documentary filmmaking, with stylized cinematic devices of editing and camerawork, staged set-ups, and the use of the camera to provoke subjects.”
Yup, check, check, check. So lets take that up a notch and say that this is 9-11 inspired vertite. That’s right folk, you don’t make a movie about towers falling in NY city, people fleeing city blocks as clouds of smoky debris follow them in clip, and, uh, the triump of the human spirit? Any way, that’s right, the Cloverfield monster, with its endless reproduction of insect like splinter organisms, reckless hatred for america, and lack of a clear identity, is Al Queda. Duh.
But here is where forces collide. You are making a Blair Witch inspired movie, filmed in the first person, a giant monster is an abvious metaphore for the 9-11 attacks, and in which the camera operator keeps filming through the most dire situations and constantly reassures us “I’ve got to document this, people are going to want to know what happened.” All good, sort of, here’s the thing: no one grabbed a camera and filmed everything on 9/11. Nobody was really concerned about capturing the moment for posterity as towers were falling. It’s all wack.
Cloverfielf relies on the motivation that the guy filming from the skyrise on the opening scene was so incensed that his one time fling girlfriend brough another dude to his going away party -even though they hadn’t spoken since they fucked- that he had to journey back into the falling city. All good, except who fucking cares what happens to some flustered Abercrombie models? By films end I was sorry to see the awesome monster be killed by the totally egregious military…or was he? There is a sequel in the works, let’s not go and plant a tree instead.
My bitterness is revoked, I just found out Mathnet is on youtube and will be reviwed shortly. Here’s a teaser:
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