Thursday, July 09, 2009

Summer Stuff: If It's Not in Google, Does It Really Exist?

Summer Stuff: If It's Not in Google, Does It Really Exist?: "http://www.answers.com/topic/digital-nitrate-prize"

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Eternal Baby

Human children exert an uncontrollable charm upon other human beings, especially their parents and other vulnerable adults.

It's been said that it's a good thing that kids are so cute, because otherwise we'd all want to strangle them in their less than charming attempts to learn about the world.

Kids, however, grow up. In the process, they lose that special baby beauty.

Nature, however, has connived to keep replacing toddlers with other younger and upcoming toddlers.

It's a kind of replaceable part with planned obsolescence.

Baby born.
Baby cute
Baby grows up
Baby no longer cute.
New baby born.
New baby cute..

and on and on until our species wears itself out.

The new replacements are eternally beautiful. They're nameless as they are wheeled past in a perambulator, carried by in some sort of baby sling, and just wobble along the sidewalk in search of novelty.

It's that child with no label that we all love. Just the mystery of where they come from, where they go, and why they are so incredibly appealing and beautiful.

Transformers 2

Any eleven year old boy who loves explosions should already have pitched a tent in the closest theater showing Transformers 2.

In the first two hours of this pyrotechnic epic, more things are blown up than have been immolated in the past century of motion picture history. It is almost inconceivable that this much dynamite could possibly exist to begin with.

And just when you think that no building or military vehicle or villain is still standing and operational, the filmmakers find dozens more things to blow up!

Creativity like this must be acknowledged. Our hat is (blown) off to them! Alfred Nobel would be proud, and, indeed, perhaps it is time for the Nobel Committee to recognize quantity of explosions as a new category of world accomplishment.

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Summer Stuff: The Coming Golden Age of Stereoscopic 3D Movies: A Revolution, or "Oh Grandpa, I don't want to see those dumb "flat" movies!"

Summer Stuff: The Coming Golden Age of Stereoscopic 3D Movies: A Revolution, or "Oh Grandpa, I don't want to see those dumb "flat" movies!"Publish Post

Womb Graduates

One morning I woke up and actually remembered something I had dreamt.

It was the phrase "womb graduate."

Seems like a useful concept to me (unlike most dumb things I remember when I wake up).

Most people view "birth" as "the beginning." But it 'taint so.

After all, we spend about 9 months in a womb, swimming and churning and listening to inner body sounds. It is like a little in vitro nursery school. So, when we get born, it's like graduating from Pre-School to Kindergarten.

Womb is stage one. Getting born is stage two.

So, too, there are "egg graduates" including chickens and eagles. Baby amoeboe are 'fission' graduates, aren't they?

We ought to get diplomas for "womb graduation" instead of a slap on the ass.

Why do MacIntosh Owners Feel Obligated to Convert You

MacIntosh Computers are just fine.

I don' t own one, but I've used them and -- except for the fact that most of them still have a one-button mouse which is kind of like riding on a unicycle instead of a two-wheeler -- they work just the way they are supposed to, and I can get stuff done.

What I want to know is why people who own them are endlessly and incessently telling everyone who doesn't own one how wonderful they are? Or posit Mac vs (whatever other kind of computer)?

It's kind of like Episcopalians telling Presbyterians what's wrong with them.  Or trying to figure out if Hulk can beat Superman (or Spiderman take Batman) (Or Wonder Woman whup Red Sonja).

Which afternoon was it that owning a particular computer became an article of faith, a mode of getting into heaven or acheiving salvation and not a tool for getting letters written or drawing pictures?

I don't get this kind of conversation about Nokia cellphones: only about Iphones.  I've had IPhone users shove them in my face and show how cool the little video games it plays are. Well, they're right: they are cool.

But.

They don't help me to make phone calls. They don't make the other person's voice clearer. They don't do the things that I expect a telephone to do. They're not cute and cuddly like puppies or kittens either.

Now kittens. They purr! Puppies chase balls and wag their tails when they see you.

I haven't seen a MacIntosh Computer do that yet.

Oh crud. Now someone will invent a purring Mac and tell me what I'm missing out on by not buying one.

It will remind me with a cute voice or a text message every five minutes: "Vibrations sent by I-Purr."

Maybe I shouldn't have written this.

Just ignore the man behind the curtain.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

No Snowmen

It's been snowing off and on for weeks in Western New York State.

I've been walking and driving all over the area and so far, I haven't seen a single snowman!

Given that there don't seem to be kids outdoors anymore, this is not completely surprising.

But it's something like Rachel Carson's Silent Spring.  

Life is vanishing outdoors.

The less people venture out into the winter, the colder the cold seems to be. It's like the reverse of air conditioning: The more refrigerated you are in July, the hotter and more unbearable the sun seems to be.

There are no snow forts either. Or snow balls.

Something is seriously missing. The world is a colder place.

Monday, January 05, 2009

Snow but no Kids

It has been snowing this winter. More than usual. But I noticed something missing. Kids.

There were no kids outside playing. None.

I'm pretty sure that all the children in this neighborhood didn't go away on vacation for three weeks over Christmas. No, I think they were home.  And indoors. Watching TV. Playing video games.

What happened to sleds and skis and cross-country skis and snow boards and snowballs and snowmen and snowforts and snowcones and skating and... ?

I guess it's warmer to ski using your WIIIIIII.

Just this evening, I noticed that Harbin China holds an ice festival. Apparently they've been doing it for 25 years. It's cold there. I mean C O L D. 19 below zero? (Don't know if that's C or F, but either way, it's cold.) 

There, they build huge ice scultures that are all lit up. And they have fireworks displays (in the cold), and there are LOTS of kids and other people running all over the place oooohing and aaaahing at the amazing ice sculptures. In fact, there are more than 800,000 of them enjoying themselves in the freezing weather. Not sure if anyone dies there of exposure, but given the warm snow suits that kids were wearing, I don't think so.

Have American Mommies given up on putting their kids into snow suits? Putting on the mittens and wrapping scarves so tightly around their kid's head that she can't breathe? I guess it's easier to park them in front of a Nintendo.

The good part was that when I took a walk in the snow, there was no one else around. There were no footprints, no tire tracks, just several blocks of nice white, clean smooth snow with my breath frosting in the air.

But I miss the kids screaming and laughing.

Maybe they'll come back next time it snows. Or maybe I'll have to go to Harbin, China to see children outside in cold weather.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

To Octopus. A new verb

There are hugs and there are Hugs.

There are the namby pamby air-hugs that ladies give each other insincerely to avoid intimacy and smudging their make up.

Then there are friendlier hugs of greeting, football player crushing hugs of congratulations after they win the game, and other shades of grey in between.

But there are those totally entwined hugs (both erotic and not) in which the participants so thoroughly intertwine their limbs (arms and legs, necks and torsos) that the place where the hugger and huggee begin and leave off are difficult to determine.

I think this deserves a better description than "hugging."

So, I've "verbized" yet another noun from "octopus" into "to octopus" meaning for two (or perhaps more) people to so totally entwine their limbs that the place where the hugger and the huggee begin and leave off are difficult to determine.

Examples: They octopussed and then fell asleep.
The two kittens were octopussed as they took a nap.
The teenagers were so octopussed, it was hard to tell how they could stand up. In fact, they toppled over onto the bed, still octopussed.

You're free to use the new verb provided you credit me. You can send money, too. I won't refuse.

And have fun octopussing.

Benjamin Button, F. Scott and Me

This is another one of those fish that got away stories, or more definitely a story of a story that got away. If you don't like those kind of stories, skip this.

F. Scott Fitzgerald penned a lovely, edgy, witty little ditty called The Curious Case of Benjamin Button during 1921 or so in which our protagonist (like Merlin the Magician) is born an old man who as he gets older becomes younger until finally his befuddled family must hide a pewling infant as, we imagine, he devolves into a sperm and ovum and then vanishes. It seemed a truly delicious way to dissect a lifetime and a milieu and a culture and humanity and how we relate to one another, by turning it all upsidedown.

Benjamin Button always seemed to me the perfect candidate for a movie adapation, but there were problems.

The main ones were that doing the special effects twenty-five years ago was no picnic. Getting a fellow to age backwards involved make-up and casting. You can age someone from, oh, their twenties to their nineties without much trouble. A few latex appliances, wigs and some grease paint, and there he is,  an old man! It's the youth part that is diffcult. You must find a succession of teenagers, children and tots who bear a spitting resemblance to the starring actor as young guy. I recall the agonies of the casting director for Superman I hunting for someone to play Christopher Reeve as a teenager, child and infant. They had hundreds of casting photos all over the office and kept putting them up on the wall until they had a succession of boys who looked like they were the same person growing up. Then they had to be available, negotiated for, and quickly filmed before they grew yet more adolescent or less infantile.

The other problem was that no one in Hollywood liked the idea. Or, more accurately, they thought I was nuts. This never stops me: the list of films that I've wanted to make that no one liked but that got made anyway is awfully long now (Benjamin Button being the latest among projects that go all the way to Herman Hesse's Steppenwolf and Siddhartha which my agents all shook their heads at), so I've persisted all these years muttering and pleading until, at last, I realized that David Fincher, whom I've never met, was going to fulfill my dream.

David's got it easy. He has a track record for offbeat, if not downright weird movies, and he has the magic of CG special effects to back him up. It's simply a breeze in 2008 to make someone get younger and old: you just use the computer to map the face of the actor onto someone elses, tickele a few pixels and Voila! the aged or infantilized Benjamin Button. I envy him in the most respectful way. It's not that it's being handed to him on a silver platter, it's just that he was the right guy in the right place at the right time. And you can do a period drama with period locations without spending millions on building a 1922 city. I haven't checked to see if it is being done as a period drama of if he's updated it to the 21st Century. I'd have done it as a Jazz Age piece. There's something so appealing and appalling about that. Some of you, by now, already know what it is or if you're reading this after the release date, absolutely know, but I'm still curious and wondering.

Brad Pitt, of course, didn't exist when I wanted to do this. Heaven knows whom we would have cast way back when if someone in The Black Tower at Universal had said "Yes," but it wouldn't have been Brad. I'm sure he'll do a fine job, and surely bring in the audience or "an audience" of some sort, more than an unknown would to a film with an edgy, science fictiony premise like this one.

I look forward to it. Of course, I'll be sitting in the theater muttering under my breath and cursing fate once again. One of these days, I'll get to do the movies of the books that I've dreamt of for decades. Or not.

Are you guys with big bucks out there listening? I've got a BIG LIST of great projects and so far, I'm batting a thousand on which ones get financed, just not on when.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Kitties and Movies

Cats have virtually no interest in being the first in the neighborhood to see the new hit movie.