“So, if you want something
and you call, call,
then I’ll come running
to fight, and I’ll be at your door
when there’s nothing worth running for…”
I only stumbled upon this video because I was obsessing over the lyrics above. I actually thought this was just a Frames song. I had no idea it was written for the movie.
My seventh grade history teacher was Mr. Baltich. His motto was “A word to the wise is sufficient.” He often used it to conclude tales from historic episodes in which things could have gone much more smoothly had one or more of the parties learned from existing wisdom. This existing wisdom might have come from a scorned adviser or from the simple observation of past events.
Mr. Baltich also used this motto as part of his warning to a classroom full of parochial school students (as in “Heed this understated verbal warning, or else…”). At the naive age of 12, most of us didn’t grasp the seriousness of any warning that didn’t include wild gestures or raised voices, so we’d often get to find out what fate befell those to whom words were insufficient. Eventually we started to wise up.
Mr. B’s trademark saying is based on the notion – and I wasn’t sure of its accuracy until the past few years – that it takes true wisdom to heed the advice of those who’ve experienced more than you. I already knew there were countless examples of young, cocky types who, for whatever reason, feel the need to remake all of the mistakes their elders warn them about. I’ve always chalked it up to a sense of hubris that seems almost inherent to youth. My recent viewing of the documentary No End in Sight helped illustrate to me how pervasive this foolish attribute is in biologically mature men, like those who engineered the invasion of Iraq. [Read more →]
It is Easter. I am Christian, so of course I celebrate the rising of Christ. The thing is, while He may be risen, I have been totally worn down the past few days since having multiple wisdom teeth extracted.
One side of my face is disproportionately swollen. While it no longer hurts to chew per se, the swelling is a bit more than uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I attempted ham dinner with my family this afternoon. I even survived it.
In the spare time induced by missing work on Thursday and Friday (when I wasn’t in too much agony to use a computer), I attempted to add to my pain by working on a website project I’ve been struggling with for the past few weeks. It’s for my local union’s website. While I may not be the ultimate web developer, I firmly believe the results of my effort will represent a vast improvement in the quality and function of said website. But, oh, the pain of the process. Thankfully, it should be over soon. If only I had the same confidence with my aching jaw.
Extraction day (formerly known as Thursday) was quite harrowing, but things seemed to be looking up on Friday. So I tempted fate by heading into town for a taste of the Philly Film Festival with a random film society member who offered me some tickets. I saw three films (in succession). It didn’t seem too challenging at the time, but by Saturday morning, I wasn’t feeling well at all. Thankfully, Sunday has been a lot better to me (so far).
Getting to the final twist in this winding post, I was recently reminded that April is National Poetry Month, which left me wondering why I haven’t been able to write any decent poetry in a while. I sketched a few drafts on Thurs… er, Extraction night, but the mood was looking darker with each line.
Fortunately, a fine example of poetry is on display at Marisa’s. It was written by her mother, who recalls her childhood reactions to a homeless man in Philly. Since I was in a generally melancholy mood as I was reading it, the poem eventually caused me to ruminate on one of the following questions:
If you guessed a or b, you clearly overestimate my ability to consider the plights of others while in acute pain. On the other hand, if you guessed c, you deserve the prize (not that I’m offering one).
It occurred to me that while I’ve written poems about other people I’ve encountered, I don’t believe I’ve ever been the muse of someone else’s verse. Which brings me to today’s question:
Has anyone ever written poetry about you?
It doesn’t have to be a great work of literature. It could be an old boyfriend composing really cheesy material about how you rocked his world. O maybe something by a family member (like your mom, for instance). It might even be a song by a garage band from your past. I’m just curious to hear from anyone out there who’s played the muse. And if so, what did it feel like?
This is the only reliable way I ever found to solve the Rubik’s Cube on my own.
Will Smith, on the other hand, seems to be an old pro at it. Anyone who saw The Pursuit of Happyness might remember that solving a Rubik’s Cube was instrumental to Smith’s character securing a job interview. But figuring out why it spurred such a sense of deja vu in me took some time (and a bit of help from the late night TV gods).
Just the other day, I was watching an old episode of Fresh Prince of Bel Air in which Will solves a Rubik’s Cube for a Princeton recruiter. His mastery of the cube resulted in an college admissions offer.
Which probably explains the vague sense of recognition spinning through my head while I watched the movie a few months ago. Now I’m wondering if that was part of the original story, or if it was added as something of an inside joke. Or maybe the similarity between the two scenes, odd as it may seem, had something to do with Smith taking the role.
Just something pointless to ponder on a wet Wednesday morning.
As a sort of follow-up to the last post, here’s a list of the Hamlet versions I’ve seen on screen, ordered according to my taste.
A suggestion: before resorting to the Gibson version, might I suggest a spin-off instead?
Techdirt explains how the RIAA is like 17th century French button-makers, and a couple other scary conclusions about continued efforts to keep consumers from owning what they buy. That is, if it wasn’t scary enough already.
“What you feel only matters to you. It’s what you do to those you say you love that matters.”
- from The Last Kiss
I haven’t seen the movie from which the above quote is lifted, but the quote itself fascinates me. I’m a hopeless romantic, yet I find a refreshing bit of truth in a statement deriding the sort of blind passion that leads so many of us to ignore any sense of obligation or adult-level commitment.
Or something like that.
Anyway, I might have more to say about it later, at which point I’ll either amend this post or add an entirely new one. In the interim I’m curious if the lead-in quote sparks any thoughts from anyone reading this. Anyone?
which wasn’t entirely news to me.
It’s just easy to forget he’s sick when I hear the friendly banter between him and his callers every Saturday night – some of whom call just to say hello and offer impromptu film reviews, and some of whom have questions about obscure movies for which Mr. Movie, more often than not, knows the answers right off the top of his head.
Stu Bykofsky, writing in his most recent Daily News column, pays what I think is a fitting tribute to a living legend of the airwaves.
As I wrote somewhere else, today and tomorrow mark the annual celebration of Steve McQueen’s first starring movie role (and a cute little theme song co-written by Burt Bacharach). For those reasons and more, BlobFest is a pretty cool option for people in my home region this weekend.
My love for The Blob predates any awareness of its local ties (or McQueen or Bacharach, for that matter), which makes me more deeply regret my lack of availability for the festivities this year. Maybe in ‘07?
I saw the film Ask the Dust the other night, and it lit my head full of ideas. Mostly it reminded me of one or two similarities between my experience with women and certain experiences of the main character.
And maybe it helped me further my personal understanding of certain compulsions I’ve had. Oddly, even the phrase “Mayan Princess” (which shows up in the story) ties in with my personal experience… but that’s probably as far as I should go with this post.
Attribute this quote and get a virtual pat on the back—yeah, I’m kind of bored right now.
I went to see a movie the other night, but this post isn’t about the movie I went to see. It’s about one of the trailers that preceded the featured movie. I was surprised at how it affected me to watch and listen to about a minute’s worth of advertising.
I knew they were going to make a movie about it, but the trailer, mostly comprising shots of a radar screen coupled with snippets of conversation, gave me quite a chill. Flight 93, a film about the fate of the United Airlines flight of the same number, will be out sooner than I had expected. I wouldn’t necessarily be sure about seeing this one, but the director, Paul Greengrass, has handled historically delicate subject matter well in the past, so hopefully this one will be on par with that.
I was recently invited to try out Newsvine by the kind soul who runs thought.less.ness (many thanks, by the way).
I don’t know much about it, as I’ve just signed in for the first time, but it seems like an interesting combination package: one where you can prioritize the news you read on your own page, as well as write your own column for others to see, should you choose to get that involved.
I suppose it’s something of a hybrid. It’s still in beta, so if anyone reading this wants an invite, please leave a comment or send me an email to that effect, and I’ll see what I can do.
Of course, if you’re from the greater Philly area and you’d like to get involved in a more focused effort that also allows you to not only take in, but also help disseminate local news and views, there’s always Philly Future, the local portal that can get your words seen by thousands of visitors a day (with the help of a kind, dedicated editorial staff that happens to include me).
And if you should decide to join the conversation at Philly Future, Karl’s just unveiled a nifty new javascript bookmarklet that allows users to post without actually going to the site.
And in a completely unrelated note of something that occurred to me last night, I think the people at AMC Theaters ought to release a DVD collection of those faux trailers that come on right before the feature presentation at the movies. They could call it the Silence is Golden Collection. Anyone who knows whereof I write, what do you think?
“Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies.“The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.”
-C. S. Lewis
I saw Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit. Overall, it was an excellent experience, and truly one for the whole family—well, most of them: nine of my closest relatives, including five nieces and nephews, gathered for lunch and a matinee yesterday. I took a couple pictures I suspect might turn out well, but since my digital’s batteries ran out unexpectedly, I was using an actual camera. How did I ever cope with waiting for pictures to develop?
And on another, more than slightly off-beat note, I’ve been checking back in with Cziltang over the past week, concerning his musings on the subject of a particular website. Not thinking of myself as one to enjoy killing frogs, crazy or otherwise, I didn’t click to that website until yesterday. And now I must confess that it hooked me in for several minutes of computerized carnage (at least that’s all it seemed like). Alas, my grand pretentions have once again been dashed.
Matt unearths this instant classic of movie advertising, that, without re-scripting a single line, casts a classic piece of terror in a new light.
Proving once again, the shortest distance between two genres is “Solsbury Hill.”
I just heard about this the other day. I don’t know about you, but I think I could watch a movie about Johnny Cash.
Bob has some good news for those of us raised in premillenial/evangelical backgrounds, at least those of us with fond memories of those low-budget movies about people who get left behind after the Rapture. (I included the wikipedia link because I realize this subject matter is quite a mystery to many outside of the background from whence I hail.)
And so as not to leave out the other, more current sensation that is the Left Behind series of novels, Slacktivist has been offering a weekly analysis of the popular book franchise that is routinely and painstakingly clever (I’m complimenting the analysis, not the novels).
Ah, brings back so many memories…
