Archive for September 2003


27 September 2003

This is my road to my redemption

I think I speak for everyone when I say, what the hell was up with NPR today? First of all, Scott Simon had to be drunk while he was doing Weekend Edition - Saturday, not only did he think he was so dryly sarcastic when he said, "I only watch PBS and occasionally some BBC North America," but he then did a segment on the Annoying Music Hall of Fame and played a lengthy clip of Leonard Nimoy singing a song about Bilbo Baggins! Then, on my way home from work, they were doing "NPR's first ever pay-per-view wrestling event" which was like celebrity deathmatch between, on one side, Arnold Schwartzenegger and Jesse Ventura, and, on the other, Jaques Chirac and some other Frenchmen. I'm not kidding when I say that at one point the announcers were claiming that the frenchmen were "tossing the salad" of Jesse Ventura.

25 September 2003

This land is mine, but I let you rule

Well, one of the perks of working at Blockbuster is that I can finally get to see the movies that I've been meaning to but haven't ever gotten around to doing so. The example of which I want to preach about tonight is Spirited Away. I'd heard good things about this film and had previously been blown away by the director previous film, Princess Mononoke, a film for which I was fortunate enough to be in audience for the very first showing in North America. Well, needless to say, I'm sorry I waited so long to see this one, because it's an absolutely amazing experience.

Where do I begin about Spirited Away? It is the most imaginative piece of children's literature (I know, I know) produced within my lifetime, and possibly for a period of time beyond that. Off the top of my head, It deserves billing with Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, and early Chris Van Allsburg. It is, of course, animated; there is no other way this story could be told. Alas, that means that no one will see it. The English dub and DVD were handled by Disney, who put their stink all over it, but at least have the common sense have it be unaltered and available to listen to in the original Japanese, something I have not yet had the pleasure of doing for Princess Mononoke. (The Mononoke English dub is better, anyway, but I still want to lay hands on one of the new DVDs with the dual language tracks.)

It's a sad commentary that our highest grossing film is Titanic while Japan's highest grosser is Spirited Away. Just another reason I wish I lived in Japan.

UPDATE: I found this photo on the Internet with the caption, "When thinking about Anime, keep in mind that scenes like this are commonplace in Japan."

24 September 2003

He's already made such a mess of your life

As a poor person, I like to go to the library. Aside from a fine history of swordplay, my best fine has been a sleazy, low-rent disco-ish album by Plup called His 'N' Hers. Of course, I open the CD booklet to find it filled with lyrics (which is such a nice touch that I am always amazed when artist's fail to include them) and right at the top of the page it says, "Please do not read the lyrics while listening to the recordings."

24 September 2003

No he don't care what it looks like

I don't care if I do suspect that it's just propaganda from the German government, don't ever let me drink Angel's Trumpet tea.

In related news, my sister lost her job for drinking and smoking pot on the clock in view of customers, so if you have a job you might want to avoid doing that. Who knew?

22 September 2003

Do you remember the first time? I can't remember a worse time

Yesterday was a beautiful autumn night. It's funny, you know, because I always say that one of the reasons I left California was because I missed having autumn.

But something about driving around with the windows down when the air is 50-degrees takes me back to those chilly nights between the ocean and desert, crusing aimlessly up and down Sunset Boulevard, not cool or rich enough to get in at the Viper Room or the Standard, but just enough to get into Wendy's.

Sometimes on my way down to Bloomington, as I pass Martinsville, I let my eyes go blurry and I imagine I'm driving into L.A. at night for the first time, a sea of lights and possibilities stretching as far as the eye can see. I imagine the mountains in the distance, and I remember climbing them late at night, huddled with friends for warmth aroung a flask, to watch the sun rise over the city.

It's strange how the most beautiful nights here make me miss every night there.

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