How many people you want to bet end up eating these?

Interesting - the Skiffy channel announced Caprica (as if my time won't be taken up by that channel enough already)

Bird and Moon - a lovely little image story

whitney music box - interesting.

I just want to make a quick pass at an old movie I caught again late last night, Crow: City of Angels. While many people seem to enjoy the first Crow more, I much prefer the...well, it's not a sequel, per se, but rather an extension of the setting, or a retelling of an archetypical story, in a sense. It has a relatively tight narrative and attention to semantic details (how can you beat a background grafitti of the symbol of "om"?), and with plenty of references to multiple mythologies to boot. To me it's an ideal urban folk or fairytale, with all of the dark elan and atmosphere a real fairytale should provide.

Another random thought - I think wire is an interesting medium for craft, on the basis that it's very adaptable - it can act as everything from a medium for sculpture to taking on the properties of rope, or string. I love how it has a memory for shape imparted to it, but at the same time can be called upon to take on tension against itself, as in ropes in a net, for example.

Also, an interesting column on writing in regards to the interwebnet

and a random quote that makes a quite interesting distinction, though I'll counter the vitriol towards Myspace by saying that it works quite well as a medium for keeping in touch with people, which the other two are really not able to do as well at all -
"So there is immediately a different mindset. MySpace is more about the person than what the person has to say. While Xanga and Blogger are predominately freelance soapboxes for trails of (un)conventional thought and opinions, MySpace serves as a catalyst to senseless long-distance relationships and incoherent babble by the masses."

Did I post this one already? Hm. Well, here it is again (maybe) -

It seems funny that a few words, a note
can raise such ire inside.
Perhaps I should call it a poem in prose
to justify this emotion it wakes,
this heat that sings in my veins
and singes the skin of my face,
lighting it crimson from the inside.

Or is it the content, the meaning
of these verbal symbols?
Am I caught in their semantic web,
the threads of connotation too fine to see?
I wonder whether this red disquiet
is a venom of imagined words between words,
whether I am already cocooned
and dreaming poison dreams.

The author, I insist to myself-
it is the writer of this text,
the one who set the message
to paper in ink of arsenic and rust,
who tattooed it in the rapid rhythm of my heart.

But even as my blood burns to sing
in brimstone harangue, even as my eyes narrow
at the brightness of my fiery, righteous response
to the affront of words, meaning, and intent,
I stumble into that quiet moment,
where flame becomes ember.

My anger is my own.
Though I stalk and circle, blade in hand,
I realize there is no handle –
the blood dripping from its edge
flows from the hand that grips it.

My choice is my own.
I sheathe the sword,
still slick with crimson emotion
and wait

for stillness.

Amber and Ashes, by Margaret Weis. This novel was...well, inconsistent. I'm a bit sorry to say it for some reason, but I have to wonder whether the quality of Weis' writing suffers without her husband on board. It often seemed a bit dumbed down, and not intentionally, even, and I really couldn't quite figure out whether the wavering focus on the pantheon-of-gods archetype was supposed to be epic or more personally dramatic. I will note a particular passage near the beginning which leads me to think that Weis had to have been reading yogic texts as she was writing, it was uncanny the parallels with something else I was reading concurrently. As to the attempt to add a martial arts aspect to the Dragonlance, I'm torn, as it was kind of nicely understated, but at the same time cliche - I think she could have made it more unique to the setting, rather than relying on old standbys.

On saving money -

on gas, in Tucson
---and everywhere

and on plane tickets

and passport photos!

Scarface, with Al Pacino and Michelle Pfeiffer. While kind of slow (maybe by "today's" frenetic standards, I suppose), Scarface does have a certain Shakespearean grandeur to it, like a tragedy spread over many years. I loved the way the camera would track slowly back and forth rather than just cutting between shots, it was something I've not seen much at all but was used to wonderful effect. And the one-liner moments in this movie! Great stuff. There's not really a single "good guy" in the story, but it's hard not to like Tony Montana, somehow.

I just like this:
"I should be content to look at a mountain for what it is, and not as a comment on my life." David Ignatow

Google Scholar would have probably been hugely helpful when I was doing my thesis...well, hm, if it has articles beyond the scientific, I didn't think to check. Still, maybe somebody still in school will be able to take advantage of it.

poem-y goodness from a friend - yay, I'm not the only one!

Ones and Zeros

Moonbeams slide oiled
Through the ocean of darkness
And the sound of her laughter
Peals through the air.

Sparrows fly swiftly
Through soot-coated forests
But the girl who once laughed
Is no longer there.

She fled through tangles of
Wrought-iron erratic.
Hid behind vines
Red, black, yellow, white.
As numbers scroll down
From rain clouds of static.
She lets bands of data
Block her from sight.

Darkness weighs heavy
Through a casket of glass
As she leans against it,
Wondering who'd care.

Sunbeams beam sharply
Through rivers of asphalt.
And she walks the water
Photons bright in her hair.

"Primitive Indo-European had pairs of words for some very common things, such as water or fire. Typically, one word in the pair was active, animate, and personified; the other, impersonal and neuter in grammatical gender." - nothing much in particular there, just thought it was interesting

From Mr. Scott, the bibliochaise...which on one level I find slightly freaky, and on another level, aweso.

The Waste Lands, by Stephen King. First off, Oy is aweso. For true. Oy! The Waste Lands is a continuation of King's Dark Tower epic, and it certainly upholds the very high standards of the novels previous to it. For the sheer amount that happens in the narrative, both in terms of plot and character development, it reads so quickly I actually hardly felt I read a full novel at all. I greatly enjoyed the expansion of setting, as per usual, but I was hoping for a bit more backstory on the main-main character, but the next book seems set up for that, I hope. It may seem like I don't have much to say about this novel, considering my high opinion of it, but it's really more a question of not going on for pages and pages in a close-reading manner, which this isn't really the right place to do that in.

A History of Violence, with Maria Bello and Viggo Mortenson. This film was interesting in that it had an incredibly tight narrative structure - it was like parallel!/parallel!/bam!/bam!, to describe it in a very inarticulate manner - and so would be great to write an essay on, and the acting and cinematography were quite good as well. As much as I was a bit disappointed that there weren't more twists and turns to the story, this is the kind of movie that seems just made for provoking discussion - what are 'good' and 'bad' violence, how much does context matter, what kinds of violence aren't readily apparent as violence (violence by mendacity, for example), what does it mean in how people react to violence....seriously, anyone wants to watch this and have a long talk with me, I'm down.

Wedding Crashers, with Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson. As much as comedies don't usually hold my attention very well, this one was okay. It was a good bit more serious (in relative terms) than I expected, which was mildly interesting, though something about the story had me thinking it was going to end much earlier than it did, which threw me a little. It did have Christopher Walken in it, that was nice.

"We like to think of cruelty as the province of the smart, because we tend to think that it takes real brains to be darts-accurate with cruelty, but the truth is that stupid people can be exceptionally cruel, thereby giving credence to the notion that we humans have several kinds of intelligence that layer over one another like transparent pages from an anatomy textbook." - from the blog pretty dumb things

and fun with linguistics from Jabal al-Lughat

I think The Boondock Saints is a great movie for a variety of reasons. In watching it last night, I was reminded of one of them - that is, the ethical issue of the vigilante nature of the Saints in question. It's never really approached directly in the movie till the fake-real man-on-the-street interviews in the ending credits, and even then not with any depth but with impassioned response or actual shying away. I think that's a great decision, in that not only does the audience have the entire film to debate the issue to themselves without judgement or commentary from the narrative, but those interview responses also probably mimic the most common responses on the part of the audience after the end, which is an interesting reflecting idea.

So here's my two cents as to the questionable morality of the Saints' acting as judge, jury and executioner based solely on their own judgment. I'll refer back to what I talked about a little while ago, I think, Krishna's conversation with Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita. Without attempting to encapsulate that at all, I'll come back to the film and make the argument that the narrative is not so simple as to just condone violence - rather, I'd say the deeper meaning is that what is to really be condoned is right action, in the Buddhist sense, however ironic that seems (perhaps a better word might be dharmic action?).

That is, the Saints are presented as inherently good men - even characters who hardly know them at all immediately recognize that. They have aspects of being enlightened - for example (in a within-narrative-structure way) they are obviously capable of living beyond their current means (re: their skill with languages) but are quite conent with the humble living space and job (even their working in a meat packing plant is similar to the story of the butcher who turns out to be a famous sage). In light of these qualities (and others I'm omitting at the moment), it becomes apparent that the saints are quite self-aware and furthermore (from their point of "enlightenment," as it were) are clearly acting from an intention to embrace what is reality is presenting to them to choose to do. In acting from their hearts (or from a deeper, intuitive level, however one wants to put it), they are making their decisions in a similar way to Arjuna on the eve of a battle in which he knew he would have to kill friends and family.

So yes, it's violent; and the morality of it is very much questionable. But all the same, one can argue that the Saints are good men acting from a deep place to do the right thing. And that doesn't make it right - but it makes it as right as something like that can be, in my mind.

-and a nice line from the movie (I'd put down the final declaration before the big bang at the end, but that's the climax and all that):
"When I raise my flashing sword, and my hand takes hold on judgment, I will take vengeance upon mine enemies, and I will repay those who haze me. Oh, Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me among Thy saints."

I'm not sure whether it's clever or dumb - a running discourse on penultimate panels

Though I haven't listened to the classical station in a while, an interesting guide

Dragons of a Vanished Moon, by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. Ok, last Dragonlance book for a while, methinks. This conclusion to the War of Souls trilogy is the most polished of the three, I think, and certainly the fastest pace and most compelling. To achieve that pace in a story of this size, however, I wouldn't say character development suffered, but there certainly wasn't a great deal of it. But that's ok. I would have loved to have seen even more of the already-interesting-setting-turned-dark, but same deal. Another thing that didn't quite bother me was that as much as this concluded the narrative of the trilogy, the narrative of the characters and setting seems to practically be just beginning all over again just as the novel ends. Of course, as I type this, I realize the authors adroitly pulled a Dune with the ending-that's-not, and in that light their writing just got up'ed in my mind.

For those long-distance calls to little red people (obscure Kim Stanley Robinson reference? Anyone out there get that...?)

Yet another great column by Lore Sjöberg

Today is apparently being called "Day Without A Mexican Day" in the warehouse, on account of the big ol' march going on downtown in regards to immigration issues. I'll be the first to admit that I know next to nothing about said issues, begging the excuses of excess work (pfft, as if a quadruple bypass should keep anyone away from their job that I'm filling in for) and just not watching the news to avoid being depressed by its unrelenting negativity.

Anyway, maybe I'm just noticing this more markedly because the protest in question is so close to home, as it were, but I can't help but feel that there's an excess of blindly following demagogues (even a high school kid demagogue - yay new heights...or is that lows?) going on today. On both sides, even, with some idiots planning to burn a Mexican flag. I'd be a lot more impressed (and interested) if I had seen a single moment or reference to it all that wasn't already drowning in defiant, close-ear'ed mulishness. But I haven't. I just hope the demagogues don't get anyone hurt.

Just because I haven't read any Russell since studying for philosophy on Suntran back and forth across Tucson -
"Conventional people are roused to fury by departure from convention, largely because they regard such departure as a criticism of themselves." - Bertrand Russell

A tattoo expo! Is generally fun. There is an omnipresent buzz of tattoo needles going on (though there was also a lonesome litle tap-tap-tap of a more traditional inking as well). Basically each booth is for a different tattoo place, most of which were from Arizona and California as far as I could tell; each had a few books of flash, and/or a portfolio, and a couple artists rotating in and out to give tattoos behind the table. It's interesting to be in a place where almost every single person around has varying degrees of their body inked; not that that's something worth being horribly conscious of, but it was certainly worth noting. And wow, were there some interesting tattoos (and piercings for that matter). All in all, a generally good way to spend a day, in my opinion.

Well, I have to say it does sound very...ah, elephant-ine. As it were.

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead, with Clive Owen and Jonathan Rhys Meyers. This film had some good things going for it, and some good things not going for it. That is, there's a great noir style to the cinematography, acting, and music, and what I'm sure is a lovely semantic under-structure (though I didn't put that much effort into paying attention to the recurring tropes). But: it seemed that a great deal was missing. I understand not laying things flat out and obvious, it is a thriller, of course, and even ambiguity in an ending, that can be great. But it just seemed like this movie was almost missing whole scenes worth of content that would have done wonders to augment the already interesting characters. As it stood, though, I had a spot of trouble paying attention.

Now, here's a potential that I think was missed in that novel I just read, Dragons of a Lost Star. I mean, I understand it's beer and pretzel fantasy, and so the issue of religion (and its relation to the political structure) would inevitably lend itself to either a Greek-pantheon archetype, or an absence entirely of any meaningful exploration of it. Interestingly, in this novel what there is of the issue revolves around an absence of the the former of those two options, which to me made the setting so interesting (ie, what happens when there is suddenly a void in who has power over everything - who steps up to the plate?).

The trick is, though a messiah-figure is central to the plot (re: Dune, and she uses religion as a political and jihad-ic tool (re: Dune and George Martin's novels), she in turn is herself only a tool in regards to the narrative - and really only to bring back that pantheon-archetype, at that (bleh!). The nominal development there is of that character is secondhand, told only through the plot, and there is no exploration of her internal nature at all. Sadness. But, in the end, that's okay, that perhaps just separates beer and pretzel fantasy from Martin's high fantasy and Herbert's epics.

In other news, might as well do a technique rundown, it's been a while since I've done one of those. In this case, it's a standing sweep from the empty-hand portion Filipino art of kali, a great reference if available being the Kali Tudo dvds from Dog Brothers MMA. Where a more common type of sweep from a striking range (as is a specialty at the eastside KoSho school) is to work from the posterior, heel-side of the leg, for the purpose unbalancing in a stumbling way to make vulnerable for further strikes, this sweep instead works from a more anterior, inside angle. Interestingly, the purpose of kali's sweep is to not unbalance the person, but make them too balanced by widening their base, almost as if they're being forced to do the splits. Then, while they're completely rooted and unable to move, the hurt can be dropped on them.

The sweep itself has the best leverage right at the ankle juncture, and also avoids any clashing of shins, but I've seen a Thai boxer create a similar effect with a slamming shin kick to the inside thigh, followed by a brutal right hook on the recoil (whereas the kali sweep is usually best followed by a downward blow, such as a hammerfist). Another interesting variant occurs if the other fighter is savvy enough to lift their foot away from the sweep - if the sweep continues through, a hook or whip kick back up and over their shoulder becomes almost easy, and while their settling their weight back down, at that.

Dragons of a Lost Star, by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. Continuing the Age of Apocalypse-style take on Dragonlance, the authors did a great job in remaking not only the setting itself but the tone of the entire narrative. This is probably one of the fastest moving Dragonlance novels I've read, and certainly the most expansive in terms of a 'global' perspective in the setting. There's a running twist and mystery that's been continuously building throughout this trilogy, and what's been revealed so far has been simulataneously both impressive and disappointing to me, just as the climax of the novel was at once both thrilling and saddening. I'd label all that a good thing, in the end.

In other news, also from Mr. Bryce, if you're into comics at all watch for Marvel's upcoming "Civil War" uber-crossover-arc, it looks to be up there with Age of Apocalypse and Onslaught if they can pull it off, in our estimation.

And lastly, I didn't get to catch all of it, but The Big Kahuna with Kevin Spacey and Danny Devito, a film adapted from a play, had a wonderful ending that resists being simplified quite nicely, though I felt I would have gotten even more out of it had I had the context of the beginning of the movie.

An idea occurred to me the other day, I don't recall when. Somewhere in between thinking that gay bars have the best music, where else but Tucson would you find such a lovely bougainvillea'd courtyard at another bar, and happily finding another place that was showing kickboxing on a big screen, I think. So, on 4th Ave, basically.

Anyway. The thought was that I suddenly find the Ayurvedic school of thought in regards to nutrition a bit more believable on the following logic. Where before I found it mildly engaging as a kind of Indian take on the medieval humours, and with about as much truth to it, besides being much more complex and engaged it also more directly deals with the nature of what we ingest, going beyond just the body. In that (for a small example), by classifying edible things and their effects on the body according to astringent, bitter, etc, basically by their taste, one has a nutrition-guide that will work in the absence of scientific measurement or counting of calories, or that would, say, work in the wilderness with one under duress. So if there is truth to Ayurvedic principles (I've already been impressed by 'sattvic' ginger, and turmeric) I have new respect for the sages of old for putting together such a comprehensive system without empirical science as we know it.