ed_rex: (Default)
1. Are you an Essential Worker? Sort of. My day job is in the transportation industry, driving flight crews between the airport and their various hotels. However, there hardly are any flights right now, so I have been officially laid off due to "shortage of work". The company is maintaining a skeleton crew for the duration.

That said, I effectively laid myself off a couple of weeks early, and so am fortunate that my boss (it's a family-run company; they've offered interest free loans to employees who might need them) was understanding. He could have said that I had quit.

2. How many drinks have you had since the quarantine started? Quite a lot fewer than I had had in any corresponding period of time before the isolation began. I have had a hard time justifying a trip to my local beer store as "essential", so have gone completely dry for a number of multi-day periods, while at other times have worked on my limited Cuban rum supply, and have bought three outrageously expensive six-packs from the local grocery store licensed to sell beer and wine.

But I dunnon how long my self-exile from the beer store will last.

3. If you have kids... Are they driving you nuts? How could my fantastic nearly-eight month old baby drive me nuts? I adore her more with every morning that she wakes me up for her first feeding. (Raven produces the milk 24/7, so I do not at all begrudge her when she needs to sleep in.

4. What new hobby have you taken up during this? None. But I have been getting more writing done, am working on promoting the damned fine historical romance my micropress recently published, and have even started to get my back online, a labour of love going back to the turn of the century. Jesus god, I have become venerable.

My sweet baby holds a copy of my father's sweet book, Black Grass

5. How many grocery runs have you done? Lost track. I'm out once or twice a week, depending, as I'm shopping not only for us but for my father.

6. What are you spending your stimulus check on? I haven't got one yet. I've applied for EI and the CERB, but it is on hold while they investigate my small business (the aforementioned small business. When I went on "family leave" last summer, it took five god damned months to get my money (for the same reason). Hopefully it won't take quite so long this time.

7. Do you have any special occasions that you will miss during this quarantine? Not many. But I was supposed to start playing soccer again in May; that's been postponeed indefinitely. And I was going to go see a concert in Toronto this past Wednesday; that has been postponed until November; we'll see if it actually happens, and whether I'll be able to swing going, since Raven will be back at work by that point (unless she's working from home).

The fact that this wasn't (and won't be) a disaster for me is two-fold in origin. First, Raven is able to carry me economically if necessary (she's with the federal civil service and is frugal as hell) and her frugality has rubbed off on me. I typically have a couple of months living expenses in the bank, something that seems almost miraculous to me.

8. Are you keeping your housework done? Yeah. Housework — vacuuming and moping — is my job and I've been doing it a little more often than I had been before the lockdown.

9. What movie have you watched during this quarantine? Movie(s)? Just one, actually, and only two nights ago: Kick-Ass, which, as profane and bloody as it is (or maybe, because it is so bloody and profane, is far and away the best super-hero movie I've ever seen. The review I wrote back in 2010 still pretty much describes what I think of it.

10. What are you streaming with? "Streaming". Ho ho ho. Let's just say I get my teevee via unconventional channels and leave it at that.

Most of what I've watched during quarantine has been old: random episodes of The Trailer Park Boys and Curb Your Enthusiasm, mostly. I think I finished Star Trek: Picard, too, so we'll count that. And that, while I'm at it, had its charms and I'll (at least start to) watch the next season, but Jesus it was slow. The first six episodes were like the first six minutes of a decent heist movie (or so I imagine, not being a heist movie afficionado).

11. 9 months from now is there any chance of you having a baby? I already have one, thank you, and she's all the baby we need!



12. What's your go-to quarantine meal? Don't have one. We were an eat-out-once-a-week-max couple before the baby came, and became even more the dine-in types afterwards. The quarantine has meant only more experimentation with new recipes.

13. Is this whole situation making you paranoid? Not really. I've always been pretty good in a crisis, and I seem to be moreso as I get on in years. I'm being cautious, but on a gut level, I seem unable to believe I will be personally affected.

14. Has your internet gone out on you during this time? We went with a really cheap router about five years ago, so it needs to be rebooted every so often. But no more so than before.

15. What month do you predict this all ends? Damned if I know. As a famous unindicted war criminal once put it, there are too many unknown unknowns. But I don't think we'll be back to normal any time soon. I'll consider us really lucky if my "spring" soccer season starts in August.

16. First thing you’re gonna do when you get off quarantine? Take my sweetie and my baby for a really long, carefree walk. Then look into setting up visits we haven't been able to make.

17. Where do you wish you were right now? Weird thing is, I'm pretty happy where I am. But, as one of you put it, though with a different emphasis: in a better timeline.

18. What free-from-quarantine activity are you missing the most? Soccer. And I'm pissed that I missed seeing The Warning in concert this past Wednesday. (Possibly I'll see them in November.)

19. Have you run out of toilet paper and hand sanitizer? Nope. We (by which I mean Raven, mostly), have long made a habit of hoarding stocking up when things like toilet paper go on sale. So we're kind of laughing while the rest of you are wishing you hand't let your newspaper subscriptions lapse in 2003.

20. Do you have enough food to last a month? A full month, no shopping? Maybe. But we'd get awfully sick of beans and rice. Or maybe rice only.

What about you folks, who are still at least lurking on such archaic social media as LJ/DW?

I'm back! What about you?

ed_rex: (Default)

Latest long-underwear entry is under-powered

I've read at least one review of Super that suggests it is best seen as being in dialogue with the likes of Scorsese's Taxi Driver, but I can't help comparing it to last year's other "normal guy puts on long underwear to fight crime" super-hero movie, Kick-Ass (which was super indeed).

Both movies are narrated by protagonists who don ridiculous disguises to Fight Crime, both feature explicit violence and neither delivers much in the way of deep insights into the human condition.

As it turns out, though, once you get past the basic premise, there is a world of difference between Matthew Vaughan's brutally funny and eminently re-watchable action-comedy and James Gunn's equally brutal (but only occasionally funny) tale of a delusional middle-aged loser who — at God's prompting — reacts to his wife's desertion by dressing up in the aforementioned undergarments and a mask and attacking criminals with a lug-wrench.

Sadly, despite an excellent cast and a premise brimming with surreal possibilities, Super ends up being far less than the sum of its parts. Super doesn't suck, but neither does it kick ass. Spoilers ahead at my website.

ed_rex: (Default)

A dance of slicey death
(with apologies to Eddie Campbell)

Hit-Girl takes a licking.
Hit-Girl takes a licking.
Chloe cuts with a knife.
Chloe cuts with a knife.

  Old books can be indecent books
  Though recent books are bolder,
  For filth (I'm glad to say)
  Is in the mind of the beholder.
  When correctly viewed,
  Everything is lewd.
  I could tell you things about Peter Pan —
  And the Wizard of Oz, there's a dirty old man!
       — Tom Lehrer, "Smut"

 

There is a possibly apocryphal story that at a certain point in his career, Picasso (or maybe it was Dali) grew so cynical about his own fame that he took to selling blank canvasses alongside his paintings. The story resonates, because I remember seeing a Picasso at the Albright-Knox Gallery in Buffalo, New York. Admittedly I was a callow youth and might have missed some brilliant subtlety in that enormous canvas, but what it looked like to me was nothing more nor less than a joke at the expense of whoever would be willing to pay money for such a sloppy monstrosity. It looked to me like Picasso had slapped the canvas with a house-painting brush until it was mostly filled by artless black lines and white spaces.

As I said, it might be that I missed some deeper layer of meaning but I suspect not. I've seen that Picasso damned well could paint when he was of a mind to, and I didn't see any evidence that that painting was one of those times.

That canvas is why I am so ready to believe the story about the blank canvasses. The fine art world is such a confidence racket (see Tom Wolfe's The Painted Word if you haven't noticed it for yourself) why wouldn't a succesful and cynical artist test it to see just how gullible it could be?

I've seen a couple of movies recently which brought to mind the above anecdote, as well as the fable of the emporer's new clothes.

One is an art-house film, directed by one of Canada's regulars at Cannes, at director whose movies win prizes but sell few tickets. The other is a crass and violent film that made Roger Ebert "sad" and which has also appalled all sorts of people who haven't seen it.

One film boasts leaden dialogue, the other reparté that, if not quite Shakespearean, still sparkles by comparison; one boasts an utterly forgettable score of sacharine strings that bear no apparent connection to what is occuring on-screen, the other a soundtract carefully chosen not just to accompany but to augment each scene; one film opens with a narrative voice-over which is almost immediately forgotten, the other begins with the voice-over and — succesfully — maintains it.

One is (or pretends to be) a study of sexual obsession and a portrait of a family threatened by the estrangement of man and wife and by a sexually powerful interloper (which also gives the director the chance to get his actresses naked and to make out with each other though — since this is Art — neither of them appears to have any fun doing so.

The other is an unabashed fantasy of violence and vengeance, a portrait of a nerdy teenage boy who dons a costume to fight crime (and who mostly gets brutally beaten for his troubles) and of an 11 year-old girl who lives out her father's fantasies and really does succeed in slicing, stabbing, gutting, shooting and otherwise slaughtering a veritable legion of bad-guys, all while cursing up a blue storm (yes, folks, even the dreaded C-word).

No prizes for guessing which film I think is worth your time.

Warning: Come-on: Swearing and gratuitous nudity behind the fake cut to my website.

ed_rex: (Default)

A dance of slicey death
(with apologies to Eddie Campbell)

Hit-Girl takes a licking.
Hit-Girl takes a licking.
Chloe cuts with a knife.
Chloe cuts with a knife.

  Old books can be indecent books
  Though recent books are bolder,
  For filth (I'm glad to say)
  Is in the mind of the beholder.
  When correctly viewed,
  Everything is lewd.
  I could tell you things about Peter Pan —
  And the Wizard of Oz, there's a dirty old man!
       — Tom Lehrer, "Smut"

 

There is a possibly apocryphal story that at a certain point in his career, Picasso (or maybe it was Dali) grew so cynical about his own fame that he took to selling blank canvasses alongside his paintings. The story resonates, because I remember seeing a Picasso at the Albright-Knox Gallery in Buffalo, New York. Admittedly I was a callow youth and might have missed some brilliant subtlety in that enormous canvas, but what it looked like to me was nothing more nor less than a joke at the expense of whoever would be willing to pay money for such a sloppy monstrosity. It looked to me like Picasso had slapped the canvas with a house-painting brush until it was mostly filled by artless black lines and white spaces.

As I said, it might be that I missed some deeper layer of meaning but I suspect not. I've seen that Picasso damned well could paint when he was of a mind to, and I didn't see any evidence that that painting was one of those times.

That canvas is why I am so ready to believe the story about the blank canvasses. The fine art world is such a confidence racket (see Tom Wolfe's The Painted Word if you haven't noticed it for yourself) why wouldn't a succesful and cynical artist test it to see just how gullible it could be?

I've seen a couple of movies recently which brought to mind the above anecdote, as well as the fable of the emporer's new clothes.

One is an art-house film, directed by one of Canada's regulars at Cannes, at director whose movies win prizes but sell few tickets. The other is a crass and violent film that made Roger Ebert "sad" and which has also appalled all sorts of people who haven't seen it.

One film boasts leaden dialogue, the other reparté that, if not quite Shakespearean, still sparkles by comparison; one boasts an utterly forgettable score of sacharine strings that bear no apparent connection to what is occuring on-screen, the other a soundtract carefully chosen not just to accompany but to augment each scene; one film opens with a narrative voice-over which is almost immediately forgotten, the other begins with the voice-over and — succesfully — maintains it.

One is (or pretends to be) a study of sexual obsession and a portrait of a family threatened by the estrangement of man and wife and by a sexually powerful interloper (which also gives the director the chance to get his actresses naked and to make out with each other though — since this is Art — neither of them appears to have any fun doing so.

The other is an unabashed fantasy of violence and vengeance, a portrait of a nerdy teenage boy who dons a costume to fight crime (and who mostly gets brutally beaten for his troubles) and of an 11 year-old girl who lives out her father's fantasies and really does succeed in slicing, stabbing, gutting, shooting and otherwise slaughtering a veritable legion of bad-guys, all while cursing up a blue storm (yes, folks, even the dreaded C-word).

No prizes for guessing which film I think is worth your time.

Warning: Come-on: Swearing and gratuitous nudity behind the fake cut to my website.

January 2022

S M T W T F S
      1
2345 678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
3031     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags