WHAT.
NOT GEEK
I have nothing to say about movies games television boobies cars or sports because it's still August (for a few more hours anyway) and the large corporations of America have offered us very little this summer. Fuck 'em. It's the economy, stupid, and thank god there's still a thing called "Actual human beings" to socialize with and remind us what's actually entertaining. Unless you live in San Marcos (with apologies to Ms. Schlaege Watercolor Jones III, who is an awesome individual trapped in an old west town).
I KID, I KID. I lived in Denton for 4 years and Sherman for 2. You ain't gotta tell me shit. Sherman makes San Marcos look like Tahiti.
If Dallas is part of "DFW," then San Antonio is the second 2/3 of "ASA." I'm going to keep using this and I'm sure it will catch on.
BIG UPS:
(plural of "up" ... not the fedEx competitor)
CAREY-- Without him I wouldn't have made it to Texas at all. If you see him on the street, give him a fist-bump, though I'm pretty sure strangers do that to him anyway. Flew in Tuesday afternoon, he drove me around and allowed me to crash in a house that was already populated by his wife, his infant daughter, two energetic dogs and two snooty cats.... and, for the second and third day, his father-in-law. AND WE STILL MADE IT TO THE RIVER (well, some of us). We opted for the 3-hour float which, because of the low water, took about 4 1/2 hours. If I wasn't afeared of dropping my phone in the water, I'd have brought it, and photographed the picnic table in the middle of the river right around Mile Eight. There's some symbology or some shit. Or maybe it just seemed more awesome than I thought it was because I was on my 98th can of Shiner Bock. Thanks to Carey, Joe, Shannon and Alex for making the river that much more entertaining. Especially Alex's cartoonishly small inner tube. And yet he still managed to carry the Bud Light Lime.
SHANNON & ALEX -- I spent at least 13 whole seconds trying to combine their name into some kind of Bennifer/Brangelina hybrid, but I couldn't find enough vowels, and besides the whole point of those names is two entities merging into one. I think it's safe to say Shannon still has her full personality intact, and as per usual, takes no shit from anyone. (Though she will take beer she doesn't like in the interest of being polite. DAMMIT SHANNON. JUST ADMIT YOU LIKE BUD LIGHT. YOU WENT THROUGH IT LIKE IT WAS WATER. DELICIOUS, BUBBLY, SLIGHTLY ALCOHOLIC WATER).
Thanks to Alex, too, for driving us around, particularly all the way out to San Antonio. And he never even met me before. That's a bro.
When in San Marcos (and why would you be, but in case you are), visit the delicious and spacious Tap Room. Just down the road, I suppose you COULD visit the head shop and their interesting employees, but I'm pretty sure they sold us some inferior shit. Luckily I'm back in Seattle now where they put Meth in the water supply and prescribe marijuana to babies.
KRISTIAN, KRISTIAN'S TWO ROOMMATES WHOSE NAMES ESCAPE ME, J-MURDER -- Actually that's not true, I'm pretty sure one of Kristian's roommates was named Dave. Anyway. I haven't seen Kristian since I was still in high school, living in the house I did when I was too young to vote, he just another of Josh's friends to run around the house and annoy me. He owns his own business in Austin now, and though I did not get laid on this particular trip, having one of the Kebabs from his Kebab stand was a close second. Also it helped that he had the hook-up at the bar across the street, where "Rum and Coke" is heard by the bartenders as, "I'll have a medium-glass of rum and I guess maybe if you feel like it you can include a light splash of coke just for color."
I'm not mentioning my little brothers "longtime companion" because a) He's not reading this anyway, b) All she does is say what she's thinking, which allows for honesty but less-than-scintillating conversation, and c) The only three things she talked about at any given time, in the 24 hours I was around her (results are extremely typical), "Adam when are you coming back to Houston," "Adam why don't you come back to Houston more?" "I gained so much weight when I was pregnant, but then I had a miscarriage."
I had better conversations with their 3-year-old Husky, Jayda. She only knows three phrases and is more pleasurable to have around than that ... person... whom my brother proclaims is the most "tolerable" woman in Houston. Which I think says a lot more about Houston than anything.
Saturday we got together for lunch, and while the lake was initially off, of course it stands that minutes after making tentative Austin-plans with Shan&Alex, J's hook-up calls him to tell him the river is back on. Well shit. We hit up Lake Travis at that point, with some friends of J & K's. They had a speedboat. The friends were expert wakeboarders, Josh was a novice, and I was even worse than that, yet somehow ended up on the water with a miniature snowboard strapped to my feet. I wiped out five times, getting better each time, and while consensus was that I would've got to my feet eventually, I told 'em the sun was going down and I didn't want to waste their river-time for the additional half-hour it would've taken me. Then the pros went wake-surfing and we headed back to Kristian's house for about ten hours of ping-pong (interspersed with television, Lone Star beer, and a trip to the Alamo Draft House for "Winnebago Man").
Special thanks to Kristian again for entertaining me for the 15 hours between when my little brother left, and when I had to get on my plane. Also to San Marcos peeps for suggesting the museum. It was a tiny place, but always happy to check out art.
The plane ride from Austin to Phoenix was near-empty. The plane ride from Phoenix to Seattle had me sitting between an excitable and inquisitive 6-year-old girl (aisle), and a tattooed gentleman in his early 20s who had never flown before (window), who had to re-check with me what the airsick bag was, because when he'd gotten an answer from the 6-year-old he didn't believe it. He seemed excited to fly, but as soon as the plane was in the air, he fell asleep.
Final score? Phoenix -- 95+ degrees. Austin/San Antonio-- 90-95 degrees every day I was there. Seattle -- 62 degrees the day I arrived back.
Was extremely happy to see everyone and had only positive experiences the entire time I was in Texas (except for my little brothers taste in females). Thanks to my hosts, and thanks to Southwest Airlines. Now it is time for football.
GEEK
Damn. We didn't get to play Mafia 2.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Manliness vs. Geekiness (or, Scott Pilgrim is not Expendable)
NOT GEEK
Some fan (we assume) made a new trailer for "The Expendables," in which many explosions and guns are highlighted, culminating with the statement, "If this movie doesn't beat 'Eat Pray Love' at the box office the weekend of August 13th, we as a nation are doomed."
Yes.
Never mind that "Eat Pray Love" was directed by Ryan Murphy, director of the cult hit "Running with Scissors," and more notably creator of the TV series "Glee." Never mind that it stars Julia Roberts, one of the few lasting female American movie starts of the last 30 years. NEVER MIND THAT THE POSTER HAS HER QUIRKILY EATING ICE CREAM ON A BENCH.
And never mind that "quirkily" is probably not a word.
Romantic comedies are cute and what-not, and guys will occasionally see them on the presumption it will get them laid (at least that is what they will say to other guys; I have certainly never ever watched a Meryl Streep movie willingly *cough*) ... BUT THIS IS THE DAMN EXPENDABLES.
The greatest action heroes of the 1980's, nay, of an entire generation (save for Chuck Norris) unite to blow up every damn thing in their way. Machismo will be wielded like a double-edged sword, asses will be kicked, set pieces will detonate in a manner rarely seen since Ronald Reagan was fucking up the White House. Stallone has been building back up his empire with "Rocky Balboa" and "Rambo," and here he's got all his buddies to show the younger generation how it's done.
And also Jason Statham for no apparent reason. Good for him. Having appeared in a Uwe Boll movie is a bigger stain on his career than any ten Dolph Lundgren movies.
Go for the nostalgia. Stay for the possible homoeroticism. THE 1980'S ARE OVER. LONG LIVE THE 1980's.
GEEK
Look.
It's not that I'm not grateful for this conflagration of testosterone, because I enjoy seeing someone get punched in the face as much as the next XY-type person. I'm a fan of things exploding, but where the Rampant Geekness comes into it is, I want a story to go with it. Not simply a chain-link fence of fight scene after car chase after fight scene, in much the same way porn compilations get boring after too long. If there's not a story linking it together, who gives a fuck?
Stallone won an Oscar in 1976 for writing "Rocky," but 1976 was a long time ago. He's written a number of movies since then, but none had the same reception... and, in fact, despite his recent career Renaissance with "Rocky Balboa" (pretty good) and "Rambo" (fucking awesome), he's still only directed eight movies in his entire life.
Since 1978.
Including "The Expendables."
Paradise Alley, Rocky II, Rocky III, Rocky IV, Rocky Balboa, Rambo, The Expendables.
That's it. That's the sum-total of his directorial experience.
No living human being has ever actually seen Paradise Alley, and having taken a moment to google it, I'm not exactly chomping at the bit to add it to my Netflix queue. I did recently re-watch the Rocky movies just before "Balboa" came out, and time has been kind to some, but not all.
Rocky III and Rocky IV are exceptionally manly to the point of bordering on parody, and hell, in IV, Rocky single-handedly brings down communism. Good for him. Even Schwarzenegger couldn't pull that one off.
.... And yet, despite its awesomeness, he didn't direct a movie at all between 1985 and 2006. That's 21 years. George Lucas went 20 years between directing "Star Wars" and "The Phantom Menace" .... yes, TPM came out in 1999, but this is the 'geek' section and TPM began production in 1997. Anyway. My point being:
Twenty years is a long time. Rocky Balboa was not without its flaws, and Rambo, while awesome, was actually rather short, and within weeks Stallone talked publicly about yet another Rambo sequel, in which the boy fought aliens or some fucking thing. You know.... ruining it. Bad Stallone. Bad, naughty Stallone.
Will "The Expendables" be awesome? Well, it's not even out yet, but it's already leaning toward self-parody... the 1980's hair-metal song over the trailer is actually NOT a point in its favor, because people Stallone's age have grown out of that, and people born in the 1980's don't give a fuck. You can either re-invent it, or live in the past; you can't do both.
The cast is great, and I'm sure all their checks cleared. But... what if, say, not a single famous person appeared in the movie? Or what if it were just Stallone and a bunch of no-names? (like in, say, Rambo?). Would the movie still be good? Would the dialogue still be memorable, the action sequences original?
I have no fucking idea. And when I see it Saturday afternoon (like a damn old person), those will be the things I (and you) will be judging it on, casting be damned. Because once you get over the shock of seeing Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Stallone and in the same scene together, there better be some important shit going on, or else all you're left with is.... well, your two favorite porn stars sitting on a couch together and talking about People Magazine. Entertaining for a minute, but then you're frustrated.
"Scott Pilgrim vs. The World" opens August 13th in America, at a theater near you. I'm getting my geek on, because despite Edgar Wright having directed less than 8 movies in his life, all of them have happened since 2004, and they've all been worth watching multiple times, sharing with friends, and quoting along with joyously.
Not a single "Paradise Alley" in the bunch.
And, seriously. "Rocky II" was just plain bad. Like really, really awful.
It's the 21st century now, bitches.
Some fan (we assume) made a new trailer for "The Expendables," in which many explosions and guns are highlighted, culminating with the statement, "If this movie doesn't beat 'Eat Pray Love' at the box office the weekend of August 13th, we as a nation are doomed."
Yes.
Never mind that "Eat Pray Love" was directed by Ryan Murphy, director of the cult hit "Running with Scissors," and more notably creator of the TV series "Glee." Never mind that it stars Julia Roberts, one of the few lasting female American movie starts of the last 30 years. NEVER MIND THAT THE POSTER HAS HER QUIRKILY EATING ICE CREAM ON A BENCH.
And never mind that "quirkily" is probably not a word.
Romantic comedies are cute and what-not, and guys will occasionally see them on the presumption it will get them laid (at least that is what they will say to other guys; I have certainly never ever watched a Meryl Streep movie willingly *cough*) ... BUT THIS IS THE DAMN EXPENDABLES.
The greatest action heroes of the 1980's, nay, of an entire generation (save for Chuck Norris) unite to blow up every damn thing in their way. Machismo will be wielded like a double-edged sword, asses will be kicked, set pieces will detonate in a manner rarely seen since Ronald Reagan was fucking up the White House. Stallone has been building back up his empire with "Rocky Balboa" and "Rambo," and here he's got all his buddies to show the younger generation how it's done.
And also Jason Statham for no apparent reason. Good for him. Having appeared in a Uwe Boll movie is a bigger stain on his career than any ten Dolph Lundgren movies.
Go for the nostalgia. Stay for the possible homoeroticism. THE 1980'S ARE OVER. LONG LIVE THE 1980's.
GEEK
Look.
It's not that I'm not grateful for this conflagration of testosterone, because I enjoy seeing someone get punched in the face as much as the next XY-type person. I'm a fan of things exploding, but where the Rampant Geekness comes into it is, I want a story to go with it. Not simply a chain-link fence of fight scene after car chase after fight scene, in much the same way porn compilations get boring after too long. If there's not a story linking it together, who gives a fuck?
Stallone won an Oscar in 1976 for writing "Rocky," but 1976 was a long time ago. He's written a number of movies since then, but none had the same reception... and, in fact, despite his recent career Renaissance with "Rocky Balboa" (pretty good) and "Rambo" (fucking awesome), he's still only directed eight movies in his entire life.
Since 1978.
Including "The Expendables."
Paradise Alley, Rocky II, Rocky III, Rocky IV, Rocky Balboa, Rambo, The Expendables.
That's it. That's the sum-total of his directorial experience.
No living human being has ever actually seen Paradise Alley, and having taken a moment to google it, I'm not exactly chomping at the bit to add it to my Netflix queue. I did recently re-watch the Rocky movies just before "Balboa" came out, and time has been kind to some, but not all.
Rocky III and Rocky IV are exceptionally manly to the point of bordering on parody, and hell, in IV, Rocky single-handedly brings down communism. Good for him. Even Schwarzenegger couldn't pull that one off.
.... And yet, despite its awesomeness, he didn't direct a movie at all between 1985 and 2006. That's 21 years. George Lucas went 20 years between directing "Star Wars" and "The Phantom Menace" .... yes, TPM came out in 1999, but this is the 'geek' section and TPM began production in 1997. Anyway. My point being:
Twenty years is a long time. Rocky Balboa was not without its flaws, and Rambo, while awesome, was actually rather short, and within weeks Stallone talked publicly about yet another Rambo sequel, in which the boy fought aliens or some fucking thing. You know.... ruining it. Bad Stallone. Bad, naughty Stallone.
Will "The Expendables" be awesome? Well, it's not even out yet, but it's already leaning toward self-parody... the 1980's hair-metal song over the trailer is actually NOT a point in its favor, because people Stallone's age have grown out of that, and people born in the 1980's don't give a fuck. You can either re-invent it, or live in the past; you can't do both.
The cast is great, and I'm sure all their checks cleared. But... what if, say, not a single famous person appeared in the movie? Or what if it were just Stallone and a bunch of no-names? (like in, say, Rambo?). Would the movie still be good? Would the dialogue still be memorable, the action sequences original?
I have no fucking idea. And when I see it Saturday afternoon (like a damn old person), those will be the things I (and you) will be judging it on, casting be damned. Because once you get over the shock of seeing Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Stallone and in the same scene together, there better be some important shit going on, or else all you're left with is.... well, your two favorite porn stars sitting on a couch together and talking about People Magazine. Entertaining for a minute, but then you're frustrated.
"Scott Pilgrim vs. The World" opens August 13th in America, at a theater near you. I'm getting my geek on, because despite Edgar Wright having directed less than 8 movies in his life, all of them have happened since 2004, and they've all been worth watching multiple times, sharing with friends, and quoting along with joyously.
Not a single "Paradise Alley" in the bunch.
And, seriously. "Rocky II" was just plain bad. Like really, really awful.
It's the 21st century now, bitches.
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