Isn't 'to fall in love' an interesting phrase? For whatever reason I heard it the other day in conjunction with someone discoursing on Lucifer 'falling' and becoming Satan. Mind, I'm not driving at some cheap love=evil analogy, here, but rather about the general idea of falling from something 'pure' (an angelic state?) to something...not pure? Well, no, I don't even like that analogy - I guess what I would go with is the question, if you were to fall in love with someone, would you be willing to fall from Grace for them, if you were an angel? That's the analogy I wanted.

Wow, the first paragraph describing shrikes kind of disturbed me....it's so menacing, and the bird looks so small and cute.

Ok, one, I could watch this guy train all day (especially check out, say, the first demonstration video, and his adroitness at evading and using the Muay Thai shield principle). Two, I want a BOB. For Christmas or my birthday...or..uh...autumn, I don't care.

Our Lady of Seven Sorrows is a long, but cool poem; it's what the Lady of Pain in Planescape is based upon, interestingly, though I'm not sure the one person I think might get that reference will read this, but hey. Mmm..okay wait maybe a couple of people will. Eh whatever.

--A poem! Though it's rough, and was written all in one quick burst. Had to get something on this topic out of the way, though, it was blocking me from writing about more recent things [damn! can't get the tabs to work...I'll try to fix that later]---

Fever
-
Flame.
My body, my muscles,
something deeper and inherent
had been set
on fire.

It was contained within my skin, though –
the tears it distilled from my eyes
were cold in their rivulets on my cheeks.

Please, I begged.
Knowing the answer, I pleaded.
I knew I was really only whispering
to my self; she'd already walked away.
Please, I begged.

Tears, a soaking rain
that washed broken life,
that washed identity from me,
until there was nothing of me left;

until I slept.

-here, watch skilled technician Denis Kang of Grapple Arts fame submits Amar Suloev with finesse- kind of a big deal, as Suloev had just beaten Bustamente, of all people

-Pick a number!

So I learned the interesting term ekphrastic by way of Ms Abby, and a random ol' memory occurred to me. Probably one of the first poems I ever wrote, way back when in...it would have had to have been seventh grade, was in this strange sort of 'gifted' program which really seemed an excuse to goof off for a period. Nonetheless, we made solid efforts in creative writing, and I remember us coming up with some good stuff; that is, my idyllic seventh grade memories say so, anyway, I'm sure it was complete crap. Anyway, one day I wrote what I considered to be my magnum opus at the time, a long, bardic kind of poem about a slaves in a fantasy novel I was reading. The teacher thought it interesting and asked whether it was about the Underground Railroad or somesuch. When I explained the actual subject matter to the teacher, he quickly dismissed my poem as anything noteworthy; obviously, the harsh travails of the characters I wrote of weren't much, but in my mind, hey, at least I knew about that - should I have been attempting writing about real experiences of people long dead that I knew I'd never truly understand?

Either way, in your face, teacher of yore! This is me writing 'ekphrastic' on your forehead. Figuratively speaking.

Guest Poetry Showcase! As I don't have anything new right now, though I'm filled with the urge to write, in getting a relative wealth of poetry shared with me in the past couple days, from several people.

Innocence and Inspiration

Sunrise like any other
But by sunset, everything changed
Pangaea splitting, making worlds
One moment, admiring the foliage
The next, spicy juice slithering down the wrist
One crisp clean bite

The avalanche starts leisurely
Pebbles skitter
Like foam before a wave
Then a wall of dust
Obscuring the leviathan
Boulders follow, dry rattling,
Bone gears clicking into motion.

A deluge of
Dust and ash and bone and verve.
A phoenix of particles
Complexification of thought
Architecture of collapse
And reformation

We may have lived before
But we weren't alive
Until after that
First bite.

-in this poem, note the arc from organic/life to inorganic and back, and layered along with that the cinematic zooming in and out from the allegoric moment in the opening and closing stanzas (that's my inner English major coming out)

I think they should do this before football games; imagine it with all the pads and whatnot, and the differences in size between the linebackers and say the kicker. I think it would add a whole different element to the game; I'd personally be more interested and less inclined to slide into thinking of them as just highly paid bumper cars. Or if they did in volleyball (mmm...so hot...) or, uh, badminton. That would also be crazy.

That said, go Bengals and Falcons! Hoorah!

I haven't actually had a chance to look at it, but Let's Say Thanks sounds like a good idea in theory, to support our military - trusting Ms Nicole on this one.

In other news, Ms Kim taught me how to hold a leash properly, as it would probably be embarassing to have my shoulder dislocated by a large dog at a show. Apparently it's like holding a horse's reins, so I guess I know how to do that kind of as well, now (I suddenly feel like a gunslinger!) [ok, not really but anyway], though I really couldn't describe it in text. I guess my old wrapping around wrist and forearm method was fine with my family's mellowest-springer-spaniel-ever, but wouldn't quite cut it for, say, a mastiff. Yikes.

I just liked the 'bring it'-ness of this photo

First off, Life in Transit, by Our Man in Seattle (hee I always wanted to be able to use that phrase), Mr Andrew! Smart and snappy, in the land of...uh....coffee and rain. And apparently people randomly breakdancing. Mmm...coffee and rain....and breakdancing...

Randoms from the Weekend (tempted to make this an institution):
-moving stuff from one storage unit to another, lugged a bunch of Mr Wyatt's rocket stuff. As I was carrying the exquisitely shaped (though now broken) nozzle of the famous Precision 1, something finally clicked about rocketry to me. That is, how what I had previously just thought of as cold, impersonal engineering is directed towards not only harnessing, but also shaping something akin to raw energy. I mean, it's one thing to take a crowbar and manipulate solid matter, but another entirely to cut out a starburst pattern in a solid propellant, ignite liquid oxygen down the middle, and direct it out of a graphite nozzle built upon mathematical beauty-in-perfection. It's like alchemy combined with sculpture-with-function.
-then I started looking at a windshield while driving, which struck me as I was looking at solid matter, now, but I could see straight through it - so was I looking at what was beyond the glass, or at the glass itself? Similarly, when I look at the mirrors, am I looking at the reflection....or at the surface of the mirror itself, that has taken on the quality of the reflection in my eyes?
-a blueberry champagne martini might be drinkable...if it's not composed almost entirely of vodka. Pomegranate-cranberry is tastier anyway.
-what's with two different people showing up over an hour late to two different going-away parties? That were for them? Seriously, people. I narrow my eyes at you.
-is it bad that I'm tempted to think about a shaped, faint scar (spiral) made by a kind of branding on a cute gal I met, in light of doing it? Probably.
-Home Depot, while generally aweso, will try to deceive you with their delivery charges! "Free plus haul-away" for over $299...but if a washer and dryer are over $299 combined, it doesn't count, one of them has to be over that price. Trickery!
-getting slammed into a brick wall is not necessarily that bad; just get some meat with a high cover between your head and the wall, or shape your body with a vertically-aligned breakfall (or both, as I did on the weekend, and was luckily protected as well by the slam-er).
-and really, was anyone surprised that Chuck Liddell only had a quick little fight? I've not heard the details, yet, but I have to say within the three days before and night of, the various random people I spoke to about it all predicted the same result.

Diary of a Mad Pigeon - blog of Mr Wyatt's Geopolitics teacher...nope, I still haven't really figured it out, either

"His verses, which being illiterate he never expressed in writing, often began with some strongly worded insult to get the attention of passers-by." - heh, in regards to my favorite Indian saint-poet

This paragraph'll pretty much make sense to Dark Tower devotees only, I think...which is basically me and Ms. Connie, but hey. There's these spindles at work, where every time I send a purchase order, I put it on one of them, and every time we receive what is ordered, I take the appropriate purchase order off. So basically, as much as I am kind of replenishing the spindles each time, all the same I'm continuously taking purchase orders off - but not in any particular order, for all the spindle is concerned, it's completely randomly being depleted. So I thought, if the spindle was a little world unto itself (thinking of the end of the first novel in the series, here), it would be analagous to Roland's Mid-World, in how it's contantly moving on, as it were. Though I guess it could also be an example of Theseus' Paradox, now that I think about it, completely unrelatedly.

For Ms. Feifei, an explanation of my semi-nonsensical flickr labels –

Basically, different languages, appropriate meanings of female names...
Zahrah - Arabic/blooming flower; the flower set, natch
Acantha - Greek/thorn; basically cacti reproductive organs
Klytie - nymph who loved the sun unrequitedly, transformed into sun-following flower (heliotrope); that’s poetic for ‘sunsets are kewl’
Nephele - fem created from a cloud by Zeus; I was kinda proud of that one, actually, vapor, smoke, and vapor-related activities
Midori - Japanese/green; though I can’t help but think of the similarly named drink, plants without the flower aspect
Nawara - Arabic/'to illuminate'; just trying to be artsy with light
Shailaja - Sanskrit/daughter of the mountain; mmm tasty landscapes
Eshe - Swahili/life; yeah I had trouble coming up with that one, the fauna set
Promethia – a play on Prometheus, who brought fire, etc; things created by human thought and hands
Ngaio – Maori/from the name of a tree; um….well, trees.
Enosha – a play on Enosh = Hebrew/’human being’; as hesitant as I am to take people photos, I decided to put some up anyway
Berie – Old English/berry; fruit! And possibly other food pictures in the future….mmm so hungry…

-and, in other news, last night was the first night I've had a police helicopter's spotlight on me. And I just tried a 'taco de cabeza'...quite tasty, actually. Though I'm a tiny bit worried over mad cow disease, heh.

Oh man, I wish I had my camera. Going to grab Lisa and I lunch at Wendy's (mmm spicy bird meat), there was a beautiful cloud system with at least four distinct types of formations, then to the south was just an ominously massive thunderhead. If last night was any indication (I had run around 4th Ave and the UA in and out of the leading edge of the lightning-ridden storm) going by Debbie being blocked by fallen foliage from getting to work and Lisa's neighbor's house getting smashed by the same, looks like part of the valley is going to be hit by microbursts again. Fun, monsoon times!

A Tale of Two Sisters (Janghwa, Hongryeon), with...dang, I'm not so good with foreign actors, uh, Korean people. Last night I was kind of comparing this movie in its unreliable narrator-ness and identity issues to Mulholland Drive, though upon reading the wiki entry for it, I think as that article points out Fight Club is perhaps a more apt comparison. In the end, I think I decided I liked this movie...though it took reading the wiki entry to confirm theories and that I really didn't miss what were details that were actually left out to solidify that. I though it was quite effective as a pyschological thriller/horror film, and some of the shots from the opening one on were downright artistic, but I was actually a little frustrated at times by the lack of information. I can't figure out why I was frustrated by it here, where I've been fascinated by that in other movies, though. Maybe I had a phantom 'ache or something.

I did think about how it's funny how horror movies kind of seep into one's perception of reality even after they're over, though. For example, a house I normally walk around confidently in the dark suddenly became hollow and creepy and filled with dark corners, and the hairs on the back of my neck were rising...till I stopped and consciously re-asserted what my senses were actually perceiving, not what my movie-affected mind was imposing.

I'd try this here but I'm sure a Mexicana would stick one in my eye

Proof of dark matter? This, my friends, is no laughing matter. Heh...yeah that wasn't even a pun. Oy.

-in other news, I'm grandly reorganizing my flickrspace; each set was getting too diverse within itself for my tastes

random comments on the weekend:
-I need to learn to play darts. That was just embarrassing.
-Why, oh why, would you put an olive in beer? I understand it might fit with the ironic theme of a bar, but ew!
-Russian Banana = liquid banana split. Alas, I didn't want to be sick, so didn't really drink mine.
-Well, apparently Jill and I are the only ones to like that London Bridge song that Fergie does, as even Lisa is astonished that I think it anything but stupid. Hmph. Still, it was perfect to have it play on the radio as got to the London Bridge...at least I thought so, no one else in the truck did (though I appreciate Kim's effort, mad props to crazy dancing).
-Flip flops with bottle openers on bottom? What the hell?
-Aussie shepherds = super intelligent. Cats named Godzilla = just funny.
-Finding differences between photos always annoyed me...till I found out it's fun with cute girls to team up with, and a time limit is set on it
-Nouveau riche x white trash = shady + tacky, to the nth.....black shag carpet, framed playboys, a (very literal) home theatre, and a baby of uncertain parentage playing on said carpet - enough said.
-Fish swimming upside-down = creepy...despite the humorous, gaseous reason behind it. I mean, according to the general semantic aspect of an upside-down fish, that would basically make it a zombie fish by principle, right?

Boxing Helena, with Julian Sands and Sherilyn Fenn. And directed by the daughter of David Lynch - ah ha! I was right. Kind of. Anyway, this is kind of a rip-off of The Collector, by John Fowles, in terms of general plot, but given an 1980s veneer replete with wealth and egotism. That, and unfortunately the characters were nowhere near as fleshed out (kind-of pun not intended), and nothing like Fowles' famous switching of perspective was even hinted at. There was a lot of unsubtle imagery and metaphoric stuff going on, so it would be easy to write an essay about for a class or something, I suppose, what with statues missing limbs and obvious archetypal characters (mmm, 80s macho man, oh yeah). As much as this is the closest I've come to actually picking out a good movie for a movie night (its badness was luckily mitigated by our running commentary and Ms. Kim being an awesome girlfriend what with the apple pie), just go read The Collector. Hell I might go read it again.

Secondary commentary: we thought it was funny that a good portion of this movie was Skinemax all the way, so if you're looking for some very, very cheap thrills and willing to accept the absurdity and bad acting for some interesting visuals, then maybe rent this movie.

-one of the more practical yoga articles I've read lately, interesting to think of when running into an emotional issue

-if you know me and you saw this, you'd know I'd immediately want to try it

Resurrection, by Paul Kemp. This is the final book in the War of the Spider Queen, and but damn, I was actually satisfied with a conclusion (versus the general opinion of say, the third Matrix). I mean, maybe I didn't like what happens to some of the charaters because I particularly liked them, but I thought at least they ended well, for the most part. This is one of those books/series I could go on and on about, so I'll cut myself off with mentioning the espionage, intrigue, dom/sub 'romance,' tense swordplay, clever magic duels, and a huge amount of depth and complexity in all sorts of gender and ethical themes for beer+pretzel fantasy.

Nightwatch (Nochnoy Dozor), with...Russian people. Mmm, yeah, probably this is going in the box to take to Bookman's - lesson learned, probably don't go by recommendations by ex-girlfriends. I thought this movie had a lot of potential going by the trailer and general concept, and it did end up having an assortment of cool moments. Unfortunately, I'd say those moments were mired in a mess of confusion in plot and holes in background information (and not in a good way, like Pulse). I would have been a lot happier if the movie had gone a lot further in one direction or another - horror, action, conceptual thriller...hm. Maybe I'll watch it again when I'm less tired, it was pretty late at night when we put it on - I suppose it did win awards in Russia, maybe I just wasn't in the right mood to watch it or something. Or maybe I should have just watched it with some wodka.

New rolling drills! Courtesy of Hugh and Martial Science...er...still not sure exactly what to call it. Anyway. The interesting contrast between how he was trained and how we used to train at Ko Sho is in the further development of rolls - the basic idea is the nigh exactly the same, but in these new drills specific attributes are trained one by one. The trick with the old Ko Sho way of teaching is that it would just be the basic technique, and then any furthering of attributes lost the basic technique in (sloppily) straining for the attribute - with these, if the basic technique is not maintained, knotted shoulders and faceplanting results.

-for timing, there's rolling past a sword swung back and forth and low to the
ground, and then up and down in a vertical plane, then an alternation of the two; seems mind-numbingly simple, but can be annoying, initially
-for distance, the roll is done past an object that is moved a little further away each time; we were surprised at the distance we could achieve, more than we thought possible
-for height there's jumping over a sword held horizontally (Hugh could do chin-high gracefully), and conversely there's extending and...well, morphing a roll to fit under the same, held lower and lower; for the former, like the distance drill it's great for teaching controlling the initial contact with the ground with the arms held at a proper 45 and flowing into the roll, and for the latter, it starts to teach deciding how and when to contort the body, for example by elongating and yet keeping the roll tight
-for diving, there's leaping through a 'window' composed of two swords held horizontally; again, it's interesting to learn to consciously decide when to shift the body's form, this time in mid-air
--of course, with any contact with the obstacles in question, there's a recquisite ten pushups, natch

So, basically, that's a whole lot of new (and yet old, in a sense) skills to develop. Which is totally awesome. It really is interesting to see how much every single one of those drills is practically ninety percent mental, as we could all do the individual things fine....it was just the fear/hesitation/not believing in ourselves that would hinder us, and it was obvious that was the only issue.

Random trivia of the day, from wiki - the native mammal fauna of Puerto Rico consists exclusively of bats! Of course, upon further reading, it's revealed that there were other little thangs like rodents and such that are now extinct, but imagine taking that statement entirely wrong and picture Bat Island. Like King Kong, but with wings. Or Hitchcock's Birds, but with fruitbats stealing your mangos. Why yes, I am that badass at coming up with ideas, thank you.

So I stop by my family’s house the other day, and go to get the mail. Next to mailbox is a cholla that has nice, dark red blossoms, so I go to take a picture of it. Noticing a bee, I think hey bee+flower=nice photo. Then I notice the bee isn’t moving. Thinking that strange, I lean in real, real close….then gasp and draw away, as a quarter-sized collection of legs shifts languidly. Who ever heard of a green spider? In any case, for some reason, just standing near the thing was kind of creeping me out, whether by it unexpectedly shifting into existence a few centimeters from my eyeball (at least by my perception, in how it perfectly mimicked the green of the cactus and its legs, the needles, and how it seemed to float in midair) or by the fact that I’d never seen its ilk before.

Ok, this commentary is going to be SPOILER-ific if anyone actually cares to go see that Pulse movie I wrote of below, so don’t read it if you want to see it!

I was thinking of (not sure if it’s a Buddhist or yogic thing) the tenet that one way of looking at suffering in the abstract sense is that it is generated by the feeling of separation – whether from one’s own self, or socially, or even separation from an object that one desires – all different levels of the same thing, basically. In Pulse, the invading ghosts drive/cajole/compel (depending on who you ask) people to separate themselves more and more, in effect acting like an external ego that’s imposing itself upon them, going by this idea:
"This compulsive mind constructs a separate sense of self, often called the ego, that's trapped in a world of psychological time, surrounded by other separate selves that threaten its survival. It then invents the spiritual search and other self-improvement schemes as an attempt to escape the trap it has created for itself."

Like the dots in the grad students allegorical program, as much as they're naturally repulsed, they’re also drawn to the ghost as a dark parody of that natural urge towards ‘spirituality’ (no pun intended), except the ghost is no solution, but the trap itself. The ghost is then keeping the person out of the overflowing afterlife-dimension by trapping them in an extreme of ego-separation - forever, in that ‘psychological time’, which leads into this idea, as a contrast:

"...time is merely a creation of the mind, and only the Now exists. When we awaken to our identity with this timeless dimension, the problem with finding a balance between doing and being drops away as the separate self-sense dissolves, and all that's left is simply life living itself."

Pulse, to me, is a twisted version of that ideal (the zen state of contented being, aware of one’s connection to everything being connected). So when the people are driven to an opposite but yet similar version of that zen state – they’re completely separated from everyone, and yet have still lost their sense of self at the point where they submit to the ghost and embrace it - they’re also in a timeless state. But not one that’s focused on a healthy understanding of ‘living by the moment,’ as it were, but one that leaves them trapped in an extreme of mind-creating-time – hence, they’re immortal in a sense, which is exactly what the invading ghosts desire, to keep them out of the afterlife-dimension.

***

Sounds like an intriguing story based on spirals

Kairo (Pulse), with...uh...a goofy guy that's easy to empathize with, and a pretty girl. Yeeaah, I don't know Japanese actors really, except for Kaneshiro Takeshi. Who definitely wasn't in this movie. I think. Anyway, ten points to Ms. Kim for having great taste in movies, I think I get schooled as much with her as I did in the grand ol' movie-watching days of literary theory. Kairo would have been great fodder for that class, and would have had people going to lunch after class to continue arguing about it, I'm sure. I don't want to inadvertantly create any spoilers by thinking 'out loud' in this forum (and this is a movie that does best without spoilers), but I'll probably see this movie again at some point, if only to figure out a little bit more of it. Creepy, and provocative, and atmospheric - it's slow, but that gives you time to figure out the puzzle of it, I guess.

Thoughts on Thinking - a quick little posit on a zen perspective on the nature of thought

Last week I stayed after class to meet a new instructor for the west-side school, who might be doing a Hapkido class. That hour and some of basically getting beat up was interesting in a few different ways.

For one, I'd forgotten how much of an etiquette there can be when martial artists (at least, the kind without inflated-ego problems like some have) meet each other. When this hapkido instructor and one of our higher-ranked instructors met, for example, even as they were listing multiple ranks and international lineages, there was still an overriding rule of modesty - there was no comparison or competition, just a stating of facts, with the assumption being that the other person would take the information for exactly what it was. My only contribution there, of course, was to insert myself at the very bottom of the Ko Sho lineage.

Then there was the interesting technical discussion as each instructor tried to get a handle on the other's art; I knew hapkido was basically a hybrid of Korean foot-fighting arts and Japanese joint-manipulation, but didn't realize how incredibly similar it is to our Tomiki aikido. Their teaching structure is interestingly a bit different, starting out with offensive joint manipulations, which I think is a great idea, and obviously their atemi includes a repetoire of high kicks, but for the most part a good many techiques are nigh the same, and not just in principle. My contribution there was to be the demonstration dummy (or, 'demo-bitch,' if you will). Ow.

One thing that caught my attention as well was how readily apparent it was to see how a school of thought could diffuse and change by teaching-culture. For example, while the hapkido seemed to have gained some things in mixing a relatively grappling/soft art with completely-offensive, hard striking arts, namely that offensive mindset and a certain flexibility (no pun intended, for anyone who might get that), in being separated from the 'source' and in becoming more technique based, some subtle-understanding was lost. That is, it was funny to see a light-bulb appear over the hapkido instructor's head concerning something he'd been doing for years, when our aiki-jujitsu instructor went, "No no, do it like this, because of this." Ding! So, our principle-based teaching may not be as refined, but we keep some information that is easily lost otherwise. Pros and cons on both sides, which might be rectified in bringing the arts full circle.

And lastly, I'll re-state the opinion, mostly coming from the east-side school, that grappling should be taught early and often, regardless of whether the student is primarily a striker. Besides that it's a royal pain in the ass to train with someone who's never done any and so is uncomfortable and fearful, or with someone who's only trained in full-contact with no regard for control (injury waiting to happen on both counts), the benefits garnered by having that basis in knowledge of continuous contact with the opponent are huge. For example, despite having never met, the instructors and I were able to practically discuss some things without even having to talk about it, because in grappling arts a great deal is dependent upon proprioceptive sensitivity, to oneself and to the other person - their body becomes part of one's own upon contact, for all intents and purposes.

Rent, with most of the original Broadway cast, apparently. I'll put this one in the column of 'musicals I did end up liking.' Actually, that said, I think I generally like most musicals I see, anyway. I'll be curious to see this one on stage when it comes to town, if only to see if I develop a similar man-crush on the character Angel, as I did on the one in the film. I'll maintain, tangentially, that at the moment anyway I still like musicals in a film media over stage musicals; I recognize my girlfriend and music-school cousin's opinions that good stage effects are more worthy of appreciation, but having little knowledge of the mechanics of those, I've got to go with appreciating the wider range of things film can do, with my better understanding of that.

Addendum - so, to keep in line with that earlier Rosario Dawson commentary, in my opinion she was not attractive at all in Sin City, very attractive in Clerks II, and kind of in the middle in Rent, leaning towards not as attractive in a sad way when her addict character loses weight.

Also, today is the anniversary of the Battle of Thermopylae - I just hope a pyrrhic victory doesn't appear at some point...

Wolves of the Calla, by Stephen King. My two favorite epics right now are Frank Herbert's Dune, and King's Dark Tower, I have to say; for a myriad of common and differing reasons, but the one that stands out is in how each story immediately affects my way of thinking as I read a part of each. In the case of Dune, it's mostly the segments where Bene Gesserit philosophy and teaching come into play; for example, I was impressed to learn in my thesis research how Herbert actually implemented some of the ideas from his last novel on his ranch in Washington, and it became a well-known model of ecologically-friendly self-suffecient living. In King's novel, it's the philosophy and behavior of the gunslingers that interests me the most, though I can't help but note how very, very similar it is at times to the Bene Gesserit of Dune.

Anyhoo, this novel lived up to the previous novels in the series admirably, natch. While at parts connecting to another of King's novels, interestingly creating an odd sort of shared setting, most of the novel plays out as a variant of Kurosawa's Seven Samurai, an oft-covered yarn I was happy to see done-over by King. I still haven't figured out how I feel about the (admittedly quite original, at least in my experience) metafiction aspect King slipped into the story, but it's a good kind of indecisiveness, especially in how (as usual) I was left with goosebumps at the end.

The Hills Have Eyes, with a cute little deformed girl played by the annoying cheerleader in that T-Mobile commercial. Wouldn't it be weird if the hills actually had eyes? Or hidden away in the hills there was just a big eye set into the soil, and as you rounded a corner it would shift to stare at you? How freaky would that be? Anyhoo, while not particularly scary, I thought it was a well put-together film; the pacing kind of threw me a little, but I enjoyed the standard horror movie tables-turned segment.

Almost Famous, with a bunch of almost famous people. Ha, ha, except that doesn't really work. Anyway, I've not much to say about this movie, actually, it was just a generally solid film, all-around. Umm...yep, kind of drawing a blank. Except for, "I'M ON DRUGS!!!"

Intermediate Pilates, with Ana Caban. I'll be repeating this one, rather than selling it back to Bookman's; as with most times I've done pilates, I thought it really wasn't much of a workout at first, and it's really not. Rather, I do notice a definite improvement in my posture and...just comfort in standing or sitting nice and upright, afterwards. This dvd has two workouts, one faster and a bit more strenuous, the other slower and more instructional - but in the end, I'd say the most is gotten out of it if both are done one right after the other.

tiny motor - that's up there in being worth a try with the BB gun shenanigans

Hostel, with Jay Hernandez and Derek Richardson. Well, for one I was actually kind of disappointed, in a strange way - I thought there would be much more, and more of a variety of violence and depravity. I guess, as Ms. Kim said, had the movie not been talked up so much in that regard we might have enjoyed it more, instead of it falling short of built-up expectations. In a sense, it was kind of like a bad kung fu movie, with a minimal plot only serving to provide a context for the sex and gore, and in that sense is probably enjoyable in a similar manner, at least.

Direct from Nate the Peace Corps dude, putting a strike-anywhere match in a BB gun! Actually, it didn't turn out to be that big of a deal, it kind of made a little spark that would probably be kind of cool at night, and a 'snap!' I was a bit surprised it actually worked, though. I'm more interested in trying some of his other suggestions, such as putting a noodle of the proper diameter in a BB gun (supposedly it'll hammer through surprising materials) and making little grenados out of the cardboard tube that goes on a coat hanger.

In other news, my first attendance of a fetish ball was pretty fun. It was a much quieter affair than I had expected it to be, though why I had some conception in my mind that it would be a loud, rave environment I've no idea. Mostly just people walking around, complimenting each other's outfits, and chatting. I was quite disappointed in my own outfit (a snafu involving mixed up leather pants and a lack of makeup), but that notwithstanding, some improvised electrical tape and borrowed boots was serviceable enough to generate compliments. The patio was well stocked with hookahs, the stage alternated between some pretty rocking metal bands and shows such as a woman hanging from several hooks.

In the banquet area were several tables selling jewelry and other accoutrements, and a smaller stage that was showing softcore sex shows and bellydancers dancing to old White Zombie songs. There was also a creepy obese guy offering free shoe shining or foot massages, and a few guys in Hawai'ian shirts just grinning like idiots and taking pictures. We quickly figured out there was sort of an etiquette for photos, wherein it wasn't really polite to just take a photo of people unless you looked like a pro-photographer, but it was polite if you were in the photo with the people. So, no artsy photos unfortunately, but if anyone wants to see, just leave a comment and I'll share the snapfish album.

Cool Sol picture found by Wyatt

So, a couple people's voices here at work just completely get on my nerves. I've no idea why, I don't particularly have anything against the people themselves, but ye gods, as soon as I hear their voice on the phone or in person I just want to smack them across the mouth. I don't know if it's something in their inflection or cadence of speech or what; for at least one of the people, I know it's not just me that's affected that way. It's really weird, like a subtlepain that's not exactly aural...*shrug*

Clerks II, with the Clerks cast and Rosario Dawson, and that dude from Alias. Actually, I enjoyed it more than I expected to; I remember thinking the original was funny, but sequels aren't often to get excited about. I did like this sequel, though; Kevin Smith reclaimed Dawson for me in having her be utterably adorable, as opposed to her role in Sin City, which I could barely stand. Besides the groan-worthy and yet snappy humor, and the always fun Jay and Silent Bob, one of my favorite archetypical romances was used, which always makes a story a winner for me.

Not much to say about it, just an interesting little blurb on developmental stages

I'm not sure what comment to make on this, maybe it's just more an observation. So Free Dominguez has moved on from the Kidneythieves to do independent stuff, Melissa Kaplan has done the same from Splashdown, and Imogen Heap has done the same after Frou Frou. Yay girl lead singers doing their own thing?

a unique and interesting weapon

Jujitsu at Ko Sho San: soon to be back in action! Hoorah! Anyway, we've decided to finally apply some karate-concepts of standards to the class, for several reasons, but mainly just to have it more organized - hopefully, we can retain the emphasis on principle over technique, however. In that regard, I'm thinking an overarching principle for each belt, and then a tripartite pathway - groundwork, standup, and drills - split between those belts as well. Here's my initial thought towards structuring:
Principles: need to put some thought into this, but off the top of my head in no particular order are creating a marriage, unbalancing, atemi, explosive vs relaxed, missing leg, ki, and posture.

Drills: backfist rolls, push-away-trap, Session, choreographed striking, falling/rolling, shooting

Groundwork: 5 basic pins, transitions and escapes, pins and strikes from each

Standup: tai sabaki, throws, standing locks, wrist manipulation (kote gaeshi)

So, for each belt, say a principle, a pin (escaping+holding), a throw, a standing lock for each belt; drills scattered throughout, as they're basic and can be filler.
Opinions and suggestions welcome!

eye asanas