These Days. By Nico

I've been out walking

I don't do too much talking

These days, these days.

These days I seem to think a lot

About the things that I forgot to do

And all the times I had the chance to.

I've stopped my rambling,

I don't do too much gambling

These days, these days.

These days I seem to think about

How all the changes came about my ways

And I wonder if I'll see another highway.

I had a lover,I don't think I'll risk another

These days, these days.

And if I seem to be afraid

To live the life that I have made in song

It's just that I've been losing so long.

I've stopped my dreaming,

I won't do too much scheming

These days, these days.

These days I sit on corner stones

And count the time in quarter tones to ten.

Please don't confront me with my failures,

I had not forgotten them.

I think that pretty much sums it up...

V for Verdict

Saw the hotly anticipated screen adaptation of 'V for Vendetta' Saturday, and frankly, I didn't like it as much, having read through the graphic novel for the second time this past week. Sure there were some admirable traces of Alan Moore's original plot/characters laced about the film, so I'll briefly rundown what I did/didn't like, and note some glaring discrepancies between the comic and the film.

- THE GUY FAWKES/1605 FLASHBACK:
Probably nessecary for American audiences to have some idea of where V originated, but for British audiences/fans of the comic, probably not as nessecary. Fitting, but coupled with Evey's voice over reciting the "Remember, remember..." poem, it was a bit too much to begin with.

-PARLIAMENT/JORDAN TOWER DEMOLISHED
In the comic, the destruction of Parliament is devoted one frame AT THE BEGINING as Evey and V overlook the explosion from a nearby rooftop. Later of course, Jordan Tower is destroyed as V conducts the 1812 Overture. Consolodating, condensing, trimming and cutting for a ready-made audience, perhaps the wily Wachowski's saw the explosion of Parliament at the beginning as being anti-climactic, where as placing its destruction at the end of the film as being more of a conclusion/climactic. Oh well...moving on...

-EVEY WAS A MISGUIDED PROSTITUTE
In the comic, Evey is accosted by the Fingermen near Westminster, after she unsuccessfully seduces one of them into sex. Evey's not so desperate in the film, as her character's primary occupation is working for BTN. To me, this placed Evey in an "insider" position, whereas in the comic, V and Evey are very much outsiders, people on the fringes of this totalitarian society who work from that realm causing choas and disorder to the people on the inside. Making Evey a office stooge in the film sets up this wierd new relationship between V and Evey...

-PHANTOM OF THE OPERA/BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
So the Wachowskis have lovingly reframed V and Evey's relationship from student and teacher in the comic book to a beauty and the beast type relationship for the film. How is this possible? V is not a character looking for love, he's looking for a willing accomplise, someone he can tutor and adapt to his ideology of freedom, and finally, a heir who will rebuild the society he has sought to rip apart. Reframing V and Evey's relationship as a love story misses the point, and diverts from Moore's original story.

-CHARACTERS REASSIGNED/REFASHIONED
Finch is no longer the disillussioned/LSD-popping detective, but instead a straight-foward, two dimensional detective. Still, the Wachowskis give him credit for putting all the pieces together regarding the mysterious V and his motives. But Daschcomb, Susan becomes Sutler, Fate is gone (important to the Big Bro aspect of the comic), the various subplots involving Derek/Dominic/Heyer/Creedy/Gordon/the Kitty Kat Keller are gone.

-EYES AND EARS AND VOICE AND NOSE AND HEAD
Of these various branches in Susan's Norsefire government, only the Fingermen are mentioned in the film. Moore obviously wanted his readers to see the goverment depicted in the comic as being kind of a colossus of an entity in itself, with many different peoples all conspiring and working for the better good of the government. This was missing from the film.

-BULLOCKS
Of all the inane uniquely British expressions used and employed at present, the Wachowski's can't seem to get enough of one in particular. BULLOCKS!

-FINALLY...
I think it's more climactic when Evey dons the V outfit and appears in public at midnight, proving that V isn't really gone, but his legacy will continue at the conclusion of the comic versus Parliament blowing up at the end of the film. Explosions are a cop-out, and too readily used in action films today. But I guess "action" implies that, beings this is an action film, audiences should expect some explosions. But even in the comic, the explosions were effectively depicted. The last we see of Evey in the film, she stands by Finch's side, explaining that the identity of V was actually a sort of Everyman. Moore has explained in writings concerning the comic that the identity of V is pretty much irrelvant, and not all that important. We don't need to know who V is. But no doubt those who have not read the book but will see the movie will be satisfied, maybe, with Evey's response that there's a little V in everyone. Fuck it. Put on costume, Evey!

WHAT I DID LIKE:

-THE SHADOW GALLERY
Missing was the mock Larkhill set from the comic, also the ballroom, "Vicious Cabaret" (central to the story), but everything else seemed perfect, i.e. the jukebox, movie posters (Cagney's "White Heat"), the way V also becomes a protectorate of culture and the arts.

-VALERIE PAGE/"SALT FLATS"
I was pleased to see that the Wachowski's chose to retain this part of Evey's transformation, when Evey discover's Valerie Page's final testimony written on a piece of paper in the jail cell. The visual interpretation of this part of the comic was thoughtful, and also, important to Evey's change of heart, where she releases her fears and concludes never to give up her final inch of dignity. However, I had this itch of a feeling that another reason it appealed to the Wachowski's was due in part to the whole repression of homosexuals/transgender, etc. theme that prevaded both the comic and film. Larry Wachowski probably couldn't turn a blind eye to that, transgender himself.

-LARKHILL
Important in that it shows the indifference and inhumanity of the government, and also gives V his origins. The whole V as a gardener was cut, but otherwise, this worked.

-V's COSTUME
How could they possibly get that wrong, right? Weaving played the part with passion and gusto, without ever having to move his lips.

While many things were sacrificed for sake of the almighty Hollywood blockbuster, there was more I didn't enjoy about the film than I actually enjoyed, as you can see and read here. God help the poor souls who attempt to adapt Watchmen, superior to Vendetta and Moore's true masterpiece of comic book fiction. I'm not sure what I'll be looking forward to more; a face transplant or waiting around to see the film version of Watchmen.

S is for Satisfied, and Slightly disappointed...

RANDOM BITS_

I have to take a moment to speak of probably one of my favorite shows on PBS, that being Rick Steves' Europe. Rick Steves is a noted tour guide/travel conneseiur and he's particularly notable for his slanted take on experiencing Europe "through the backdoor"...'A sodomist!' you might declare, but alas, he is not a sodomist. "Through the backdoor" refers to his approach to seeing the great locales and sights of Europe, not through what EVERYONE sees (i.e. Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower), but through directly interacting with locals, sampling various foodstuffs, and participating in the culture of Europe. Watching his shows on PBS isn't just a charming incentive to go to Europe, but an education in geography! While he's only made 59 episodes, each detailing a different region in Europe, from the Pyrnees to Prague, from Dublin to Burgundy, Steves makes each episode a treat to behold. He seems to capture the untold, or hidden side, of each place he visits. He rumminates about the historical or cultural significance of a certain place (exp. Prague is the home of Europe's oldest Jewish community, or Dublin converted to the Euro in 2002, rejuvinating its capitalist economy). I'd encourage anyone with a remote fondness or interest in Europe to check out his series on PBS (NET1 or NET3 on cable). It's great fun to watch!

Halloween is a special time for me, because its gives me an excuse to create my own costume away from the environs of the theatre. I like to make my costumes noticable and worth the look, like Dali last year. In a way, they're like art projects for me. I like spending time on them and see what comes of it. For this year, I've come up with a few ideas:
1. Shakespeare
Probably the most "doable" idea, and the one that people will probably recognize out in public. Still, I can't help but feel that it won't be too much of a challenge. Still, me...in tights...Sweet mama baby daddy. :-)
2. V from 'V for Vendetta'
Probably the most costly idea. I'd need to a get a mask, hat, wig, cape, black apparel. i'd do away with the daggers, because I don't want to look like some freak comic book geek whose replica costuming has to be to the book. Besides, what the hell would I do with several daggers on my belt? Hurt people? I like the side of V that is a protectorate of culture, the arts, ideas (i.e. The Shadow Gallery).
3. Little Edie from the documentary film 'Grey Gardens'
Sure, I'd have to dress as a semi-fashionable middle aged woman. But it'd be fun! I have the Massachussets socialite accent down. But people probably wouldn't know who I am. Charming idea, but it will have to stay charming, and only an idea...

I'm not sure what I'm doing tonight besides watching 'Most Haunted...
Speaking of 'MH', I'm convinced that this whole ghost thing is a load of rubbish. However, on last week's episode, they recorded live footsteps tromping across the floorboards of an attic in an old guild hall in Leiscester. Still, Derek is hard to take seriously. Sure, he arrives with no prior knowledge of these locations, but when he says things like, "I detect the prescence of an old woman...she's giving me the date of 'one'..'six'....'seven'....'two'....and she is a good soul...I feel as though she is looking you over, inspecting you, as it were. She was a .... nurse ....perhaps a midwife of sorts...", "Can you give us a name?" ... "Can you give us a name, Sam (Sam is Derek's spirit world contact)?"...."I'm getting a E- Liza- Elizabeth...ELIZABETH!"
Now, examing such a phrase as that, there are only a few ways to go about proving that Derek was even correct. One way is through historical record. If there is indeed record of a nurse or midwife recorded in the property's history sometime on or around 1672 named Elizabeth, it would validate Derek's supernaturally inspired claims, and give credit to Derek's so-called "abilities" as a spirit medium. However, Derek could be a very good actor, a man simply feeding off the vibes of a particular "haunted" environment and performing for the Most Haunted crew at the at-home viewers. With no way to validate the claims, historically or from some primary or secondary source or otherwise, Derek is no better than a two-bit entertainer, a charleton, a man skilled at illiciting emotions and the appropriate responses from people with very vulnerable minds, susceptible to suggestion. Imagination is a powerful thing, especially when it comes to play in an alledgedly haunted house with a bloody or tumultuous history.
I only watch 'Most Haunted' for the history. British history fascinates me, maybe more so than say China or Russia's history. It's a long and lavish history filled with brooding and vengeful royals, civil conflict and glorious reigns, insipid characters and also those of grace and dignity who believed in the common good and rights for all. Each place they visit in 'Most Haunted' is somehow connected with these very people and events. It's absolutely fascinating, and for that, 'MH' is a valuable show to watch. However, if you have an active imagination, and love a good scare, they've got that territory convered too. Derek performs such fetes of unblievable gal effortlessly. Another show worth checking out if only for its entertainment value. Still....sometimes, stuff on the show that they capture is hard to explain. While they've never been able to capture a fully manifest ghost, bumps in the night, floating tables during seances are hard to explain. Well, shit happens...

Mahalo!

American Idle or THE CHILDREN'S CRUSADE

While I normally post on the American Idol message boards, only to find out that my posts go rarely viewed because most people are there to post such ubiquitous jibberings such as 'O ACE U R 2 HOT!!!!!!!' or 'TAYLOR TOTALLY SUX! HE NEEDS TO GO OFF UV THEE SHOW!!!!'. Today, I will treat my regular readers with my predictions for tonight's elimination show, and also comment on the frontrunners thus far...

BY THE WAY (if only to prove the size of my inflated ego): On last week's elimination show, I predicted SWAY, DAVID, HEATHER, and MELLISSA would get the boot on the AI message boards. I was 3 for 4! Let's see how well I do tonight, I, Mr. Mystique the All-Knowing!

ELIMINATION SHOW: (3/9)

THE GUYS:
Kevin
Will

ON NOTICE: Bucky

By now, I think the show is proving that the competition belongs to the more experienced/seasoned performers, with a few exceptions (i.e. Kellie, Paris). On the guy's side, much like the ill-fated Children's Crusade of the Middle Ages' Crusades, Kevin and Will have only gotten as far as they have through sheer luck, and nothing more. They should feel fortunate, because now the voting audience, if they have any consciousness, are going to vote these luck-children off the show, and send them packing back to where they belong: HOMEROOM, their tiny faces buried in the latest issue of Highlights for Kids. Kevin maturely handled Don McLean's "Starry Night" as if trapped in a Brady Bunch tribute episode. You can just imagine Florence Henderson smilling serenely at him from the across the room. Meanwhile, Will sang a smarmy rendition of Gaye's "How Sweet It Is...". May the go the way of last week's castoff David Radford. As I mentioned on the AI boards last week, if Kevin and Will are lucky, they'll make it back home in time for the spring musical auditions. Imagine Kevin warbling "Close Every Door" from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, and Will sporting a ravishing British accent when he sings "The Street Where You Live" from My Fair Lady. What unmitigated bliss. Sorry guys, but the competition belongs to the strong. Time to go. Fine'.

Bucky is on notice in my book. While his country renditions have been servicable at best, they are nothing really compared to some of the songs tackled by Gideon (a rising star in the competition) and Taylor. Despite the whole "I've got a twin!" trump card, and the backwoodsy approach to his performance persona, Bucky may not last this week's competition, and if not this week's, next week Bucky may be axed.

THE GALS:
Kinnik
Mellissa

ON NOTICE: Ayla

You earned America's good graces last week, Mellissa, you taudry mistress of song! But not this week! Oh no... This week is you week to go. You cannot impress me with another droll Heart song. Let's face it. By now, those that own the AI competition are the ones that are actually entertaining to watch, connect with the song, and perform as if they've had years of experience, at least. Mellissa, Kinnik, and Ayla for that matter, do not bespeak of any of those qualities. And Ayla, for that matter, I am sick to tears of hearing about her jaded "born with a golden spoon in her mouth" lifestyle. Her father is a Senator, her mother is a newscaster, and she is a all-star high school basketball player. Plus, she's tall enough to be Paul Bunyan's wench! Are these traits the making of a pop star? Methinks not. Ayla, you may make it to next week, but watch out. There are far greater talents on the ladies side of the competition than you. Your bright smile, cheery looks, and 'I'm #1' attitude will only get your slimy looks as far as the toilet bowl lid if you're not careful! You're on notice.


*******

RANDOM BITS_

Okay, moving on... So, who's forgotten about the Oscars already? I have! To me, they were so forgettable, they're already a distant memory. I mean seriously, It's like they happened a year ago, and it will be another year before an Oscar ceremony worth remembering comes along. Aye me. I was not impressed. And poor Lauren Bacall. In my mind, I imagine a Christmas goose, its feathers unplucked, charred into a misshapen and unrecognizable form. Sad.

I bought my desk yesterday. It's glorious. However, I discovered the little post-it note the sales lady had put on the desk marking it as "SOLD" had actually eaten some of the finish off where the adhesive on the note stuck to the desk. Oh well. Like a well-worn pair of Adidas, such scuffs and tarnishments only add to the character of the desk, or a pair of shoes. But believe me, it looks glorious. I can just imagine some old cotcher like Dickens, Tennyson, or Hemmingway sitting at a desk very similiar to the one I have penning prose so melifluous, it causes mass immaculate misconception in all the womenfolk of the village. Their wombs were filled with song and the flutter wings of snow-white doves!!!

I am a huge Alan Moore fan, and am convinced that at his best, although he is a comic book writer, his genius is a contemporary of, dare I say it, Shakespeare's (had they have written at the same time, of course). For those untutored in his works, he is the author of "From Hell", "Watchmen", "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen", and "V for Vendetta" which will arrive in theatres next week as a full blown spectacle of visual bravura and brooding peformances by Hugo Weaving (Agent Smith from the Matrix) as the terroristic philosopher V, and Natalie Portman as the waifish Evie Hammond, who joins V to save Britian from a fascist state. Purists, and Alan Moore himself, have shunned Hollywood's rampage of his works because they are at best unfaithful to the original source material. One need to look no further than the stylish, yet boorish debicle that is "From Hell" starring Johnny Depp and Heather Graham (yuck, she's the worst actress ever), and "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" starring Sean Connery, who played Alan Quatermain well, but was victim to too many explosions in one film and a stupid retelling of Moore's storyline. Moore, in a fit, had his name removed from the production credits, and from the production all together of 'V for Vendetta', but by the sound of some of these early review, perhaps he'll be wishing he hadn't. The wacky Wachowski Bros. (oddball creators of the Matrix trilogy, also forgettable) are producers and also wrote the screenplay. Beings they are heralded as comic book geek kings, it only stands to reason that perhaps they would do justice to Moore's original material, and not shy away from moments, for example, when V is dispatching some baddies while gleefully reciting a passage from Macbeth. I will probably go see V for Vendetta in hopes that, despite his name being intentionally excluded from the credits, Alan Moore won't totally be forgotten by the time final frame flashes across the screen.

Besides, V kicks ass.

"Remember, remember, the fifth of November..."

Oscarzzzzzzzzzzzzz.........

I was bored, frankly.

But last night in Hollywoodland, Oscar deigned one or two suprises, maybe.

WHAT SUPRISED ME:

- 'Crash' winning Best Picture...
The big SUPRISE that even after the announcement, all the press was immediately chirping away at Brokeback Mountain's upset for Best Picture. I was almost sure it would go to Brokeback Mountain, but perhaps Oscar voters favored Brokeback as more of an intellectual achievement than a commercial champion. It picked up best Original Score (beating out Williams' 'Geisha'), best Adapted Screenplay (good for McMutry), best director (Lee, whom I was sure would never return to form after the debicle that was Hulk). I haven't seen Crash, but perhaps now I will. On a personal note, most of this gritty crime drama, urban culture, race issues, pimp/whore bullshit really turns me off. I don't relate to it, or understand it in anyway. This includes the pimpalicious 'Hustle & Flow' which probably only earned best Song because Oscar voters saw that the title of the song had the word 'Pimp' in it. Wowie... I'm not impressed. To me, this whole hip-hop culture is shallow and only involves those who live life in the streets, etc. It doesn't appeal to me at all, and perhaps this is why I haven't seen crash yet.

-'Wallace and Grommit' wins best Animated Feature...
Winning an Oscar could be seen as a reflection of the popular vote of a certain group of Hollywood elitists (the Academy members). I shouldn't be suprised here, but in a way I am. Tim Burton certainly works within his own little world/idiom, but you think after nearly 25 years of making some of the most odd and memorable pictures in cinema (Batman, Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands), Oscar would give Tim Burton his due with Corpse Bride. Nay, and just I as I suspected, the "popular vote" went to Wallace and Grommit. I haven't seen W&G yet, but it looks just as wild and imaginative as Corpse Bride. I'd still vouch for Corpse Bride as being much more refined graphically and elegant. Still, it looks like Oscar voters went with the instant crowd pleaser. The Oscar is a high honor, but in 20, 30 years, it will be the work of Tim Burton that most people will remember is my guess, not some cheeky British clay puppets.

-Lauren Bacall stutters through her tribute to film noir...
If she has something like Parkinsons, some condition that limits her motor abilities, then she cannot help it. But last night, one of Hollywood's last great greats delivered her tribute to film noir as if at an optometrist's office, and she had a hard time reading the eye chart (or in the case of the Oscars, a teleprompter). It was kind of sad, suprising, to say the least, as she struggled with words and fought to even get the montage clip. At one point, it would seem like she'd just give up, or be escorted off the stage. It was like watching a graceful, aged swan in flight suddenly spontaneously combust and plummet to earth, a pile of charred white feathers and ashes. Even while watching the annual 'In Memoriam' portion of the ceremony, with images of the likes of Anne Bancroft posed in slow motion, I couldn't help but feel like the Golden Age of Hollywood is long dead, a mummified creaton whose counterparts are slowly fading into old age and obscurity.

-Don Knotts AWOL from 'In Memoriam'
Oh yeah, speaking of 'In Memoriam', where the fuck was DON KNOTTS! 'The Incredible Mr. Limpett', 'The Ghost and Mr. Chicken'... C'mon Oscar! Maybe he fell by the wayside, and Oscar has strict "Must Die Between Such-and-Such Dates" guidelines for inclusion in the 'In Memoriam' MONTAGE!

WHAT DID NOT SUPRISE ME...

-Phillip Seymour Hoffman wins Best Actor...
It was a gimme, and he truly deserved it. His win did not suprise me, but his acceptance speech did, because it was probably the most unremarkable acceptance speech from a Best Actor winner in a few years. Last year, Jamie Foxx extolled the wisdom of his late-grandmother with great aplomb. This year, Hoffman thanked his mother (single, who raised him and his 3 other siblings alone), and then preceeded to invite everyone in the audience to thank her for raising him. Sure. Okay. This would be most effective if the Oscars were held on Mother's day, then everyone would have a good reason to thank everyone elses mother for raising such a bright young actor! You know, he's a brilliant actor, and Capote was the role of a lifetime for Hoffman. But for someone of such intellectual credit, he had the oppurtunity, as did any winner last night, to create an Oscar moment, one that would be worth showing in a montage of great acceptance speeches during the Oscars in the coming years. Perhaps Hoffman should be recognized for his straightforward approach and simplicity. However, for one of the strongest nominees in his category, he could have done better in terms of an acceptance speech.

-John Stewart
Before the telecast commenced, Stewart assured the press there would be no suprises during the show, when he took the stage. No brash political commentary, no scathing rants about the current administration, nothing out of sorts. And he delivered. Stewart played the part of the Oscar emcee with a certain relaxed coolness. Sure, there were some funny moments (esp. when Stewart motioned to the giant blue Oscar statue behind him, asking the audience if there would be "democracy in Hollywood...if we pulled it down?"), but nothing the audience in the Kodak Theatre responded too with gut-busting abandon. It was rather droll, and Stewart held over the audience like a guest speaker giving an after dinner speech, as if everyone was bellyfull, stuffed, and needed a jolly anecdote or story to allow for digestion. Unlike Whoopi, Billy Crystal, or Carson, Stewart didn't seem to realize the gravity of the event. He acted and carried himself no different than he does nightly on the Daily Show. I enjoyed him as a host, but I was not suprised. As each award was handed out, the evening slipped into the comfortable confines of mediocrity.

-MONTAGES!
Next to studded starlets in glistening gowns, strapping actors in too-tight suits, Jack Nicholson (whom Kiera Knightly was lovingly sat next to ((in my fancies, Jack has one too many Scotch on the rocks and drunkenly woes Knightly, whom immediately takes to his advances))), Oscar night just wouldn't be Oscar night with a MONTAGE! (Cue the one song from Team America: World Police) Appropriate but boorish were the "tributes" to select film genres...the EPIC, the SOCIALLY/POLITICALLY RELEVANT film, the FILM NOIR... Somewhere, deep within the vaults of a Hollywood cemetary, Billy Wilder couldn't care less.

IN GENERAL...
This year's Oscar ceremonies yielded too few suprises to keep a general audience absolutely riveted for 3+ hours. I'd like to thank my DVR for making the evening seem that much more tolerable. The winners in their respective categories were all too easy to pick out as winners. How could Hoffman loose? Who wouldn't resist for rosy-cheeked beauty of Witherspoon? How could Clooney not walk away without atleast one Oscar for either Syriana or Good Night...? How could a song with the word PIMP in the title not get best Original Song in a category with only 3 nominees? How could a RAP song with the word PIMP in the title possibly loose to another yelping Dolly Parton tune? Last night's Oscars just made sense, and those that took home a little golden man deserved it, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

RECENT SCREENING LOG_

Havent' watched any movies this week, although my next Netflix movie is the documentary Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price. Haven't heard much about this one. Just that it's main arguement is that Wal-Mart is a prime example of capitalism run amock, and they don't treat their employees fairly. As a former Wal-Mart employee, I guess I could atest to that. Although, the reasons for me being fired from the W were mostly my fault. But even when I worked for Wal-Mart, I felt like I was violating my own code of ethics in that environment. Working there seemed like the wrong thing to do on my part. My pet economic theory is that as Wal-Mart grows into this mass infection of consumerism, the more they have to mass produce goods, the quality of those goods is going to diminish. On one hand, I hate Wal-Mart, and I can only stand to spend about 20 minutes in there about once or twice a month before I go nuts. On the other hand, I know that if McCook didn't have a Wal-Mart, my mom would have no place to shop for groceries at those kind of prices. Which brings me to another point; I was quite happy working at Wal-Mart in McCook. I was treated well, paid well, and I had friends there I enjoyed talking to. Past is the past...

I'm reading a great, brisk read right now, Sarah Vowell's Assasination Vacation. Very insightful, very funny, alot of fun to read, especially if you're interested in things like history, and the suprising and unbeknowst connections and coincidences between historical figures and places, etc. I'm in the middle of the chapter on Lincoln. Vowell seems like the kind of person who people can say, "She makes history come alive!" In many ways, she seems to obssess over historical trivia and fact, as if it's her own form of needlepoint; a meticulous hobby. Luckily, she doesn't have to wear an self-fashioned old timey hoop skirt dress, carry a fan, wear a frilly bonnet, speak in antiquated mannerisms, or break out into stirring renditions of "Dixieland" or "When Johnny Comes Marching Home" to do it. Blech.

So I watch American Idol last night...The "Elimination" Show, where 4 contestants were dismissed from the competition. Bobby, Patrick, Sky, and that one model chick who's posed recently for Maxim. Anyway, good. They needed to go. In true American Idol fashion, the producers decided the best way to kill not only an entire hour, but their audience as well, was to have the losers sing their losing, gutbusting songs after being told they would not proceed to the next round. May I have a little insult with my injury? Yes, thank you. We needed to hear Bobby sing "Copa Cobana" again. Our souls' salvation depended on it... Luckily, DVR remote in my clammy palm, I was able to fast forward through most of this boorish waste of time, and amazingly, I maybe only watched 5 minutes of the actual show, which basically boiled down to the eliminations only. Technology isn't just the black beast its made out to be, but it can also be a friendly giant sometimes. Last night, the real American idol was my DVR. It did what none of the contestants on the show can actually do: it kept quiet, and did its job.

I may write more later... A dreary day.

What it's like to win $1000...and never want to win it again...

In light of all this hub-bub regarding those multi-million dollar Powerball winners, I'd like to make a few comments about what it's like to win that much money, and then resolve to never want to win that much money ever again...

But first, I'd like to say, congratulations to the Cook meat processing plant winners. If any of the underpriveledged, hard workers of Lincoln had to split several hundred million, I would have picked them. Think of it; one moment, they were no ones...work-a-day Joes and Janes, and the next moment, they're retired. Wild.

Well folks, that amount of money would change anyone's life, for sure, and I'm sure I could only imagine what I would do with that amount of money. To be brief, I'd spend some on stuff, maybe a much needed vacation for me and my family and Ray, and then I'd give a large portion of it to the performing arts (various organizations, theatre, no doubt). If there was enough money left, I'd sponsor some hungry, malnurished child in Guetemala, through Christian child-outreach, whatever, one of those organizations.

This past Decemeber, I actually won $1075 dollars through my work by way of a sales contest, of which I was won of the top sellers last quarter. It was great. I was elated. Best of all, it came right before Christmas. I remember feeling somewhat assured that I would win the contest since I needed only 27 digital phone sales in order to be entered in the contest. Every order after that was another entry in the drawing, and in the end, I had 57 entries. 'How could I loose?' The odds were in my favor because I had so many entries, yet I realized that anyone else in the same position had just as good a chance as I did.

As I sat at the reception desk that day, taking incoming calls, redirecting them to their appropriate extensions, I heard a light round of applause coming from behind the door to the secrured part of the building, and the customer service area. A rep from the front desk walked through the door soon afterwards and said the three words that changed everything atleast for a little while..."Ladd, you won."

That night, I had a nice dinner at the Olive Garden. It felt good to have so much money, and not have to worry about where it was going or who it came from. Later, I'd recieve alot of "silent flack" from the other reps, maybe jealous or envious that I'd one. The worst one even asserted that the prize money had come from "their pockets," yet, I'm certain that the prize money meant to be awarded throughout the year comes from corportate, which...in turn, I guess, comes from employees pockets. I didn't understand it really, but I didn't care. For the first time ever, I had so much money, I wasn't sure what to do with it. So I did what any other rabid American consumer would naturally do, I spent it.

Spent it on what? Clothes, Sopranos DVDs, Simpsons DVDs.... Stuff I wanted for a long time. Also went to stuff I needed, like gas, groceries. But soon, and quite suddenly, it was pretty much all gone, and all that was left was maybe anything from a few dollars to a few pennies on the three gift cards which contained the prize money itself. To clear out the cards, I had a co-worker of mine put the remaining balances on my cable account. Thusly, you'd see payments of .26 cents and .52 cents on my cable bill, afterwhich, I'd prompty shred the gift cards to a dusting of plastic shards, dumping them in the trash can under my desk.

My revelries now ended, the bastard Uncle Sam had only begun to have fun with what he would consider tough love, but I consider a blatant injustice to my income! Now, you could say, 'Well, Ladd, you should have thought about this beforehand! This is just one of those facts of life. Taxes are inevitable.' Rightly so, but how could I forsee that the IRS would dip their grubby little mits into my next paycheck and lovingly extract almost $525 total from it, thereby, fucking me over for the next month. Luckily, my student loan payment wasn't due (yes, student loans, that's one thing I would pay off if I won the lottery) until Febuary, so I nearly evaded that. But consequently, I stumbled in my financial footing for nearly a month aftewards, and have only now began to recover from the taxes taken because of that prize money.

Ergo, I never want to win that much money again, be it $1000 or $365 million, unless there's a way that my paycheck will go unscathed by unclean hands! I can assuredly say, I know what it feels like for big Powerball winners. If I could fashionably retire today, I probably would, ANYONE WOULD, and devote the rest of mortal life to art, theatre, self-expression, and frequent travel abroad. But such dreams are lofty, and at least for now, out of reach.

Like I said, that amount of money, the kind of money won by those lucky meat plant workers, would change anyone's life, for good, or at least for a little while. My life if fine right now, I'm perfectly content, and comfortable, in my familiar surroundings, and no amount of money could change that.

Lesson learned. Press on.

I bought the antique desk of my dreams yesterday. It's wonderful, I'll have to describe it later....Hidden compartments... That's all I have to say about that.

Rubber Johnny...REVEALED!

As if information like this wasn't too far away (look no further than www.wikipedia.com), you can find the secrets behind the music video for Aphex Twin's "Rubber Johnny". To summarize the wikipedia article, Rubber Johnny is actually not real, but the brain child, so to speak, of director Chris Cunningham, known for his border-pushing music videos for Bjork ("All is Full of Love") and Beck ("Hell Yes"), just to name 2 such videos. So I was somewhat right... Rubber Johnny was concieved of as a mutant teenager who spends his days locked in a basement with a lone chihuahua as his companion. Chris Cunningham is Rubber Johnny, made up in load of makeup no doubt. I'd say more, but most of it has to do with male gentalia... So just go to wikipedia, and get the inside scoop. It's a great video because it has the capacity to be so revolting it affects you, in a John Water's kind of way...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rubber_Johnny

Written: a little tipsy...

Now, if you ask me, and you might as well...I don't know who comes up with these BEST OF lists....Best of who? Best of what? Who is in such a mighty position to decide what is the best? By what criteria? Who are you to judge? Who the fuck would put all the time and effort and judgement into deciding these things?

Well, if you ask me, and you might as well, I couldn't give a shit who's the best. In the end, it's all comes down to personal preference. Do you like General Kung Pow Chicken or do you like Sweet and Sour Pork? Guy A might say, "I like General Kung Pow Chicken," whereas Guy B might remark, "But Guy A, you've missed the point entirely, when, and as you will soon discover, it is Sweet and Sour Pork that is obviously the champ apparent in this case."

For example, let us say pop-super-diva-sludge-monster Miriah Carey sells 100000000000000 records, and wins countless awards. She may be the "best" by a certain extent or margin, but is by no means "THE BEST". For example, more people when asked who the greater popular culture influence is, I am certain more people will say The Beatles, or Elvis, or even F. Fucking Scott Fitzgerald over Miriah Carey. Now, I don't have the evidence for this phenom, but I am almost certain of it. Or is that the Miller High Life talking to me? NO! I am certain more people would say the Beatles are more widely accepted and cited as a greater influence than Miriah Carey. The only person Miriah Carey ever influenced is this one choreographer (a lady, her name escapes me, but i remember her being extremely athletic for her age which was definitely over 40...her son tap-danced) who attended the show choir camp i went to back in high school. She taught us chereography to Miriah Carey's then hit "Butterfly," choereography which she herself conceived of. (She also did choreography to the "Proud Mary" number that our showchoir "group" did...I remember being singled out by her, because I could not do this one difficult manuever (move) that involved placing your left hand on the ground, your right hand in the air, and moving your feet at the same time.... ((description defies this manuever, so just ask me to try to perform it someday if you see me. I'm sure i can manage))

Now, there may have been no choreography at all, but I am most certain that at the end we had to make "butterflies" using our two hands, and watch the "butterflies" soar off into the distant sky above us, within arm's reach. A perfect visual example of this is the Happy Hands Club from the film Napoleon Dynamite, which by now, I am beginning to accept as the cult classic that is. In fact, I am certain that if they made a Napoleon Dynamite 2, It would revolve around a classic "road trip" plot, of which Napoleon, Pedro, and that one girl, with the "nice sleeves" would embark on. The rest, I leave to your imagination, dear reader...


My point is this... And at this time, I must re-direct you to the following URL:

http://docopenhagen.blogspot.com/2005/12/top-50-music-videos-of-2005.html

Now this is an impressive BEST OF list. In fact, it is the "best" or "top" music videos of 2005. Who's best? Who's top? I don't know. And judging the list, I do not care, because this is a fine list of artists, and excellent videos, which you may play in your internet browser, provided you have all the appropriate plug-ins...

If you'll allow me, I'd like to share my commentary on a few of them...

If you thought Michel Gondry's latest video with the White Stripes was the best video of 2005, you are mistaken, and this gentleman's "top" list will prove you mistaken, of course.

1. "Rubber Johnny" - Aphex Twin.... This is bizarre. Truly distrubing, and utterly bizarre. David Lynch will never divulge how he created the Baby in Eraserhead, and I'm sure Aphex Twin (whoever the fuck they are) will have the same thing going for them here. It seems like Rubber Johnny lives alone in an abandoned asylum and is only visited on occassion by curious teenage boys and the prying film crew looking to make a new Aphex Twin music video. It is real? Or is it all digital devilery? You decide, dear reader....

4. "i need some fine Wine" - The Cardigans... Perhaps, and yes, another fine example of why Sweden's The Cardigans are totally underrated, and had far greater talent and appeal than their submissions to the Romeo + Juliet and Austin Power's soundtrack. This is a video with rich, dark colors, and it showcases their band well. First Band on the Moon ROCKS!

5. "Baby, C'mon." - Stephen Malkmus ... This video is surely a visual tip o' the hat to Michel Gondry. It has the sort of digital patchwork/stop-motion feel Gondry has exhibited in such works as White Strips "Fell in Love with a Girl", or "Walky Talky Man" by that one band from New Zealand, whose name has succumbed to this beer buzz I have now. Still, this is a nice video that fits the song well. And since it's a Stephen Malkmus song, the content of the song doesn't matter so much. It just sounds cool.

10. "Military Wives" - The Decemberists .... So I skipped out on their concert when they came through Omaha. Don't make me feel bad. This video makes up for my tinging disappointment in myself. A fitting tribute the "model United Nations" of the film Rushmore, the Decemberists have taken liberty here, and merely expanded on the idea, and also, offered up a biting political commentary of the zealous and scheming U.S. (played with suprising bravura by Colin Maloy, who is only a boy). Funny, touching, maybe both. Still, a video like this one is always a welcome eye treat. Now, who brought the barbeque!!

Now, I could go through all of these videos, and hell, one could probably spend a good afternooon viewing all of them, but I just wanted to pick out a few that stuck out ot me, though if I spend some more time with this website, there are probably many more I will have to say something about. However, I will reserve myself, and resign myself to making a few closing comments about other things, besides music videos....

RECENT SCREENING LOG_

What do you get when you cross Eraserhead with The Who's Tommy with Rocky Horror? Probably nothing...But in my opinion, you might get THE AMERICAN ASTRONAUT, wherever fine Digital Video Discs are sold! Indulge yourself, and read more about it at www.imdb.com....A-E-I-O-U! Glasses on... :-) "Are you saying you're too good to kiss me!?!"

Saw Werner Herzog's GRIZZLY MAN... Timothy Treadwell was nuts. Let's get that out of the way. The man talked to bears who were capable of shreading the man within an inch of his life (and that's just what happened). Either they simply became accustomed to his presence or they did not care for him. Did he deserve to die at the paws, claws, and jaws of an animal he so desperately cared for? No, and niether did his girlfriend. But choas and fate played their parts, and exited as Timothy Treadwell was ripped to pieces, and died in the Grizzly Maze one late-summer day. Choas and fate...two things Treadwell seemed oblivious too. Shit, indeed, does happen. Yet for all this so-called righteous retrobution, Grizzly Man is in effect the story of a passionate man who yearned not for discovery, but self-discovery, in which not Mr. Chocolate benefitted or was redeemed by his presence, but instead, Treadwell found redemption for his being there, and that's all that mattered. His soul required it, and there is a certain closure to know that a portion of his ashes were scattered in the land, the Grizzly Sanctuary, which he called home.

Went to the Jeff Tweedy concert alone...It was brilliant. I shed a wee tear when he played "Heavy Metal Drummer". It reminded me was it was to be free. I'll say no more than that. It was a touching experience. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is one of those albums that will always be a sqaure in the patchwork quilt of my memory and spirit.

So, goodnight, and good luck.

All night long...

Maybe you've heard that old Lionel Richie standard "All Night Long" on this one commercial that features a variety of nocturnal critters from Madagascar (bush babies) magically incanting the song. Well, I'm positively in love with this song at the moment. It is a gush of '80s nostalgia that is both an invitation and a voodoo chant to join in a celebration of harmony and merriment. I cannot get enough. In the spirit of which, a tip fo the hat to Lionel Richie for reminding us once again of his renewed prowess to seduce, and destroy our every inhibition. Way to go, you soul-miester, you.

I hope that you, the silent majority, have enjoyed my Oscar predictions. Perhaps I have succeeded in fostering some lively dinner-table debate. And perhaps not. Regardless, once thing is certain. Phillip Seymour Hoffman WILL win for best actor. How do I know? It's written in the stars, bitch.

Last Saturday, an idea landed, flashed, and sparked my imagination. I'm fascinated by ghosts, whether they exist or not. I'd like to write a book about my skepticism, my childish fascination, my fear of the unknown; a travelogue of haunted houses, locales, and accounts of my nights I spent at these places. The tentative title will be: SPOOKED: AN OVERLY-CAUTIOUS AND SOMEWHAT SKEPTICAL JOURNEY INTO THE SPIRIT REALM...AND HOW I LIVED TO TELL THE TALE!

more later...