Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Fade to Gray

My pal from my Baltimore days, Bill Gray, was always a good photographer. What I am seeing on his site now is simply stunning. He captures so much and with so much skill that I am dumbfounded by his work.

I can't show you many of his pictures on this post because he has them copyright protected. Of course, why not? They are a miracle to behold.

LINKS: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bgrax/
http://www.graypixposts.com/
http://www.graypictures.com/

Friday, March 25, 2011

Case 39


Rent this, ye movie heads. To say more, would ruin it.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Stuff

Aftermath of a hail storm, March 23, 2011


Got caught in a hail storm on Wednesday. It was intense. Shortly after, I took this shot from my car. The Newb did some retouch to make it better.

No Good Deed

As I pull up to the ATM, I see a car pulling out.  I see something on the screen which I do not at first comprehend. In white letters across a blue screen, I see a familiar prompt:

DO YOU WISH TO MAKE ANOTHER TRANSACTION?

Then it dawns on me. The people in front have left their card in the midst of a transaction. No password needed, all is there for me if I want it.

Of course, a camera takes a picture (or video) of everyone who uses the machine, but still, this is no temptation for me. If this was a machine that dispensed cake, for example, then a couple of chocolate cakes might have gone missing, but  thievery is not among my sins.

The next day I call the bank and I expect a hero's welcome or at least a hearty thank-you from whomever discovers my noble deed.

Hardly.

Despite all my efforts to give the lady (who sounds bored and somewhere else in her thoughts) the name on the card in order for them NOT to worry, all she keeps repeating is:

"Just bring the card in, sir."

And I did. What did I expect? Don't know. Delight? Gratitude to see an honest person? A parade in my honor? At least.

By the way, when the card ejected, the balance slip said a lot.

$5.82.

Let Me In

Let Me In is a remaking of the Swedish Let the Right One In and it is perfect. Usually these kind of renderings from one country to another turn south pretty quickly. This film is damn near perfect. In fact, I wish I had seen this first for no other reason that reading subtitles can detract from the experience.

Great cast, story, acting, etc. This gets an A+.

Sarcasm: Never Leave Home Without It

"Oh yes, you are interrupting my day."
I realize that my blood pressure medicine is about to run out. I call the doctor's office who first gave me the prescription.

"I'm sorry," said the nasal voice on the phone, "You'll have to get your cardiologist to fill it." Fine. Call the cardiologist's - always an ordeal to even get through-but this time a helpful, friendly person listened patiently to me and my need to have a prescription filled. "Done and done," thought I as she said, "Mmmm bye."

Wrong.

Nothing is ever done in this century (or the last) without some kind of hitch or foul-up. Following up is always a necessity and sure as shit, there was a hitch.

Another voice from doc's office: "Now, what is written on the label?" This voice is of the female office worker kind, one that reeks of disdain for patients. The issue is whether or not I'm taking the right dosage.
"I don't have it front of me. I'm at work. I'll call home."
"Put me on hold then."
So, a short process later, info on bottle revealed nothing germane, she then says, "I'll call the pharmacy."
Soon, Ms. Disdainful calls and tells me that the prescription is this and that.
"OK?" as if this is the end of the conversation.
"Did you call in the prescription?" My whole reason, right?
"I wish you had told me that before."
This was the whole fucking point, lady, but I guess you didn't get the memo.
Her tone is not to my liking, but before I can respond with something smart-ass, she hurrys me off with, "I'll call them back."
I often think that perhaps my inwardly mistrustful and outwardly smartass attitude towards those who work in positions of self-perceived authority is immature and that I should change.

When I'm proven wrong by human nature, then I'll eat crow, but until then, I'll keep my sarcasm close at at the ready.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Take a Bite Outta This

I am zombie film snob. No question about it. Though I will rent just about anything that has zombies in it, most of it is pretty bad. Even zombie god director George Romero has been releasing some stinkers lately.

Enter The Walking Dead on AMC. You can tell a lot by a trailer and I immediately sensed that this was going to be a worthy addition to the undead legacy. To me, zombies represent a truly horrifying dystopian nightmare where the real threat are your friends and neighbors, now turned into ravenous cannibals, whose mere bite (or scratch) turns you into the undead. Well, some people are pretty close to that now, come to think of it.

I'm going to bundle this purchase with Being There (Deluxe Edition)- a film starring the incredible Peter Sellars. Reviews have said this has nothing about the special features that is "deluxe," but for me, it's a masterpiece of comedy.

I don't want to wait for my birthday either, dammit.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Not So Triumphant

"OK, boys, let's shoot the toilet bowl brigade again."
This time, Big Brother is wondering about me. I'm pretty sure I must be on a list somewhere.

I have been watching Triumph of the Will on Netflix. I have always heard that this is a great film- a triumph of film making. There is no doubt that this is a historically significant film, probably ahead of its time and technically astounding for 1934.

The problem is that it drags. I can sit through hours and hours of cinema, but this Nazi fest is sluggish.

This (barf) love letter to the Führer is tedious. It's overly long and has many repetitive sequences. However, filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl captures some truly iconic moments: the overhead shot of the goose stepping, jackbooted soldiers, arms all extended in salute, is a powerful moment as are the creepy Hitler youth, blond and full of hope, banging on drums. Indelible images, all.

"Time to clean the trenches! Ja wohl, meine Arschloch."
There's no question of the historical value, but filming every parade and little brigade of horses, tanks and dudes with shovels becomes almost unbearable to sit through.

Better to watch the History Channel and get the right edits.

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

The Promise to Change

"Give me your tired, your weary and people with foot-long scars on their chests."

That little phrase popped into my head one afternoon as I was punishing myself on the rowing machine. Of course, my sense of humor is not for all. It's best to keep a close watch on such things sometimes. It can save you a lot of puzzled looks.

Sometimes, when I look around at the people attending the 4 o'clock cardiac rehab session, I wonder how in the hell I ended up there. Even over four months later, my brain cannot wrap itself around the shock of open heart surgery. I suspect that, despite the cavalier attitudes I've heard from some patients, all of us in this exclusive club have felt this way.

The 4 o'clock regulars are a motley bunch, ranging in age from 30 plus to at least 60 plus, all in vastly different shape. Some have to deal with diabetics, others gout, others still obesity. By some standards, I am "young." Even my cardiologist calls me this ridiculous "mistruth". I smile and run with the compliment, but remember what young really was and meant ( I accept my age and you won't see me in some pathetic beyond-mid-life-crisis red sports car. Mostly because I can't afford one).

My attitude is like the overly enthusiastic nerd. I look forward to that blissful hour where all I do is build my strength. Cell phone, TV, wallet, Facebook, worries, stressed-out situations are all left at home.

Call me Mr. Chatty. I have to dial down my outward enthusiasm. I'm not seeking long term friendships, but I try to get a few words out of the people next to me. Fuck, we are here for twelve weeks, why not? People there are generally friendly, though I sense some feel that this is a form of punishment. Sure, when I arrive after work and body parts are slow and slightly achy, I don't feel the purpose until about 4 minutes into the treadmill. After that, I'm born again.

Kilgore: How do you feel, Jimmy?
Jimmy: Like a mean motherfucker, sir!


When I first arrived, I was told, "You are only here for a short time." Yep, that turned out to be true. I am in week five and it feels like week two. Two have "graduated" and were given a round of applause, a t-shirt and a certificate of completion. Most give a short, heartfelt (pun inserted) speech encouraging those to carry on. Some say they will continue with walks at home, some over to Nautilus.

That's the point. It's a lifetime choice, not a passing fancy.

That's what that scar is: a promise of change.

Friday, March 04, 2011

To Express the Inexpressible

I'm glad that this isn't in my head. Whew!
I have always admired those who express themselves through the graphic medium. In the graphic arts, I search less for meaning than I do for color and shape. Discussions of meaning in graphic art can turn tedious quickly for me. I believe in brevity. It's like trying to explain the taste of something-pretty difficult and tiresome.

Gary Baseman's disturbing paintings speak for themselves, but if you want the artist's take, read this.

I also really like Andy Kehoe's work-detailed and funny. Andy's shop.


Yes.








One commenter said this about the painting below:

"What? Don’t get it. Looks like weird ways of getting pregnant or being pregnant. No idea what the artist is trying to show here. Letâ??s be honest here. Flowers falling out of some kind of creature, and what looks like chipmunks with nuts on their heads as helmets. I gave a 2 star rating for at least trying and in no way can I see people putting this in there homes."


See?

Pyramid Power

"Who's the man? Get it, Time Lord? Who's the man?"
Kneel before the might of Sutekh!

I have to admit that the villain in this classic Dr. Who was very convincing and creepy, but sadly the bumbling, muscle bound mummies, the slaves of Sutekh, ruin what might have been a cool story.

I'll keep searching.

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

Notes From Hell

This guy is one of our best. Simply compelling.
Still slowly exploring the world of Breaking Bad and the rewards are getting richer. I am especially amazed by the depth of Bryan Cranston, who plays lead character Walter White. White's life has been turned upside down and nearly over and out by the news that he has inoperable cancer.

With his deeply lined face, he can convey the utter depth of despair, the certain knowledge of mortality and the realization that he must, for his family's sake, bear the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" with minimal gesture. Fucking amazing actor.

The title of this show was a little off-putting. I thought it was about biker gangs and the meth trade. I got that all wrong. Well, there's the meth thing, but to say more would only ruin it.
This is a winner.