Irreverent Irrelevance

Starbuck, Movie Star

2012-06-01T00:00:00.001-04:00

So, my dog's going to be in a movie. Not like that's news, though, since he's been in two movies already (although his scenes were cut from one).

I saw some of the concept art awhile back... loving it.

Starbuck bored.

Starbuck taking his man for a walk.

Starbuck confused.

Starbuck screwed.

Starbuck with his personal assistant, Sagremor.

Irreviews, 2011: Issue VII

2012-05-03T00:01:00.000-04:00

So... wait... 2011, still? Yeah, well... that's because I got a little lazy, and these are still films I watched in 2011. At this rate, don't expect a 2012 edition of Irreviews until 2014.

You'll also notice (maybe) that I shrifted the film credit sections of each review. Yeah, well... that's because I got a little lazy. My OCD might overcome me at some point, and I'll return to put the info back in, but for now... bleh...

The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994)
I've heard of this movie for years. Never really wanted to see it, but an Aussie friend of mine convinced me to give it a go and, you know what? I quite liked it. Following the adventures of three once-famous drag queens (including a eunuch portrayed by the great Terrence Stamp), it's a pretty funny and a pretty sad movie all at the same time... which seems to be the recipe for great films. Now, I'm not sure I'd call it great, but I totally understand why this is the film that's generally considered to have put Australia on the map (as far as cinema is concerned).
Verdict: SEE it.

The Final Countdown (1980)
I first saw this film years ago on television and I remember loving it. But, then, I've always been fascinated by time travel, World War II, and navy ships, so a movie with a plot that revolves around all of those things would - undoubtedly - appeal to me. At any rate, given some of my recent writing projects, I decided to look up The Final Countdown to give it another whirl (mostly for research, believe it or not) and, well, it still appeals to me. As a Navy film, it's pretty top-notch. As a time travel film, it's definitely better than most of Hollywood's recent attempts at the genre. And, as a war film, it's not too shabby.
Verdict: SEE it.

Halo Legends (2010)
The Halo franchise is one of my favorite video game franchises of all time. That stated, I'm not so much a video game freak that I had to rush out and watch this animated anthology of Halo cartoons. That stated, since Halo Legends popped up in my Netflix recommendations, I queued and watched it. As a whole, it rivals (and even betters) the ambitious The Animatrix anthology that came out to support the increasingly cheeseball Matrix franchise. Fans of sci-fi, animation, and Halo in general will love this (although there is one particularly bad entry in the anthology, one acknowledged by the series' creators).
Verdict: SEE some, SKIP others.

Ironclad (2011)
Paul Giamatti as Prince John? Surely not! Well, actually... yes... yes, he is. And you know what? He's pretty friggin' good. In fact, this entire movie is pretty friggin' good. I have no idea why this didn't get a wide release in the United States (probably because of that slightly not-that-great Robin Hood that came out), but it should have. The cast is solid, the story is much better than any medieval fare that Hollywood has released in the last three or four years, and even though it greatly fudges history, who cares? What film doesn't? Actually... I care... but if the movie's good, it's good.
Verdict: SEE it.

Jason X (2001)
I admit it... I've been dying to see this movie ever since I found out it contains copious amounts of homage to Alien. Did I think it would be good? No. Did I think I'd like it anyway? Of course not. And, let's face it, it's always a bad sign when a non-sci-fi horror franchise goes sci-fi. There were a couple of Jason-franchise in-jokes that were pretty funny, but you'd have to suffer through most of the other (mostly bad) movies to understand them, and I wouldn't recommend that to anybody.
Verdict: SKIP it.

Machine Gun Preacher (2011)
Of the ten films in this edition of Irreviews, Machine Gun Preacher is the only one I saw in theaters. And with all this "stop Joseph Kony" rhetoric going around thanks to a viral video, I'm kind of glad I did. Not only because it was a good film, but because I like having a leg-up on current events. Life imitates art, maybe? Or art imitates life? I don't know, but Gerard Butler's passion project was a pretty rough look at someone spiraling out of control, only to find their meaning of life. Violent and brutal (though not as much as it could have been - or maybe even should have), this film deserved more exposure when it came out. Better late than never, I suppose.
Verdict: SEE it.

Not Quite Hollywood: The Wild, Untold Story of Ozploitation! (2008)
My experience to this point with Australian film has been of the really depressing variety. While not apologetic like Koreans tend to be, the Australians seem to (like the Koreans) prefer making really, really, sad and/or fucked up films. Or (as with The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert), hitting the other end of the scale - over-the-top comedy - while still somehow making them sad and/or fucked up. And then I saw this documentary and was introduced to a whole 'nother realm... over-sexed, over-violent, gratuitous and guilty pleasures. Needless to say, plenty of new Aussie flicks in the ol' Netflix queue.
Verdict: If you're interested in film history, SEE it.

Shiri (1999)
Way back in the year 2000, I saw a news report on American television pertaining to the fact that the South Korean film industry had finally knocked out a blockbuster film with Hollywood-style production values. That film was Shiri. The following year I moved to South Korea for a year and I tried like Hell to watch this film. Unfortunately, I remembered the title as being "Swirl" or "Spiral," so I couldn't track it down (in Korea it's known as Swiri, so I was close!). Fast forward to 2011 and I'm in one of my "watch anything foreign moods," and I happen upon the film. It is an action tour de force and, yes, it could have easily been a Hollywood production. And the story isn't half-bad.
Verdict: SEE it.

Sukiyaki Western Django (2007)
It's clear, given the Eastern-Western genre that's been making its way through Japanese cinema the past few years, the Japanese have felt slighted by the fact that there aren't many natural roles for Japanese actors in good ol' fashioned American Westerns. Of course, with the Japanese propensity to amalgamate anything and everything into highly stylized, visual displays of insanity, they've found a solution to that "problem." Samurai... meet Cowboy. Sukiyaki Western Django is, at its core, an amalgamation of Yojimbo and A Fistful of Dollars (itself a Spaghetti-Western remake of Yojimbo), with a touch of LSD for shits and giggles. And while I enjoyed the climax of the movie, the rest of it is just... weird.
Verdict: Um...

Swamp Thing (1982)
Once upon a time, Wes Craven (yes, that Wes Craven) made a comic book movie. It was part horror, part environmental warning, and part, well, comic book. And it's so blatantly cheesy that it rocks. The acting's not great (although Adrienne Barbeau is her usual saucy self), the action's not great, and the story is hokey, even by comic book standards. But, damn... it's about a mutated plant/human hybrid! Who gives a crap?
Verdict: Hehe... yeah, screw it. SEE it.

Reflectivity

2012-04-26T00:00:00.000-04:00

*Everything below is complete fiction, so don't get the wrong idea...

&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;

***

The M4 carbine is heavier than it should be, but so is the dying body strapped to his back, tied together in a fireman's carry as he makes his way through the deserts of one country on his way to the deserts of another. He's crying, and he knows he'll never admit that to anyone, but in the moment, he can't deny it. Can't even justify it as a result of exhaustion, a side effect of being alive, a reminder that life is beautiful. Even then, as young he is, he knows he's seen too much, learned too much, and he'll never feel comfortable again.

"Hey." It's a whisper from a dying man. One that wants to be ignored. "Hey... leave me here. Please, just leave me here. I don't want to take you with me."

"Fuck you," is all he can reply. And he continues to walk. Until sunset becomes sunrise. Until a dying friend is already dead. Until his legs are numb. Until it's all over.

Except... it'll never be over.

***

She yells at him and he laments the realization that she's not someone who'll ever understand. She's not someone who really cares. He's come close to telling her the truth many times, but her flippant attitude, her childish response to everything outside of her realm of comprehension, her defiance at his way of thinking... he's never told her. He figures out that he doesn't really want to tell her. If she really cared, she'd care to ask.

But she's not someone who'll ever understand.

***

It's a strange phone call in the middle of the night. He recognizes the international calling code. Israel. Even before he answers the phone, he knows who's calling. He answers in French, as she, too, speaks French. It's been a joke between them since both were barely out of their teenaged years.

She tells him his daughter is sick. But, still, she doesn't want him to meet her. She just thought he should know.

His girlfriend at the time wonders why he's in a sour mood. She even cusses him out for it. He refuses to let her see him cry.

It's another world... another life... one he doesn't want to share. Doesn't see the need to.

***

He's on a film set, working a new job, wearing new shoes not quite broken in. His heels are bleeding. He's waiting for his ride home. He's being yelled at on the phone. Nobody knows what's going on in his head. Nobody knows the tragedy he's pretending didn't happen. Then again, nobody cares.

After all, his ride - his girlfriend - is yelling at him for being a selfish prick.

He smiles at the transportation coordinator on set who was kind enough to offer him a ride home. He declines... instead, walking three blocks out of his way with bleeding heels in order to placate someone who doesn't understand.

C'est la vie.

***

It's another desert. He's trying to relive a life he left long ago. But he needs it. He needs it to feel young again. Too many friends have passed on to the next life. Too many friends... He should've been there. Could he have made a difference? Probably not, and he knows it.

That doesn't change the fact that he wishes he'd have been there.

As the dust storm envelops his position, he closes his eyes and pulls the drawstrings of his hood tight. He's lonely. Another thing he'll never admit to. But, for now, he believes he's where he should be.

***

A group of actors file out of his living room. He's still incredulous. These people - famous, talented people - just read one of his scripts in his home. His fucking living room.

Silently, he asks... What did I do to deserve this?

He answers himself. Nothing. Nothing at all.

It's almost enough to make him cry.

***

His aching foot wakes him up yet again, and he limps to the kitchen to grab some painkillers. His loyal dog looks upon him, and there's a sympathetic understanding. Pain is universal.

Irony sets in as the medicine takes effect. It's not even his dog.

Neither are the two cats who try to cuddle with him as he falls into a drug-induced sleep.

***

"So, what do you do?" the tall, beautiful Colombian-American asks him.

"I try to write," he asks, much to the surprise of his friend and business partner. He usually answers "nothing" to such questions.

"You're a writer?" she asks.

"I write. I am not a writer." He looks at her. She's not the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, but she's the most perfect.

And he knows he'll never have her. It's not the time. Not yet.

***

He hears the sound again. A strange, rubber-band like sound. His friend, Joe, looks up at him, confused.

"Dude, you might want to get down."

"Why?" he asks.

"Those are bullets."

Slightly embarrassed, he drops prone, thanking Joe as he does so. Joe had been in combat before and knew the sounds. It's a lesson learned right on time.

***

"Who are you? I mean, really?" she asks.

It's been a while since they've talked. He's apathetic. She's moved on. What-the-fuck-ever. He doesn't even know why she called. It's all so strange to him. But, then, he's drunk. His curiosity gets the best of him. There's a small satisfaction in the realization that she still hasn't found what she's looking for. He knows she never will. She claims otherwise.

At the end of the day, one will be proven right. He's certain it will be him.

"What are you talking about?" he asks in return. "I'm nobody."

It may sound like self-deprecation, but it isn't. It's simply a fact.

***

He stands over the unmarked grave of a friend he can't tell people he ever had. Such is their lives, their occupations, their decisions. Entire lifetimes lived, but never recorded. Never admitted to. Never acknowledged.

And... strangely... these men don't seem to care. It's what they do. It's who they are.

The unknown. The shadows. The ghosts. Those who cry before they fall asleep at night... but never when someone's watching. No. Never when someone's watching. The weight of the world is on their shoulders, after all, and nobody forced them to carry it.

***

"I miss you," he says, to no one in particular.

As the wind blows his words into nothingness, he sips a glass of cheap Merlot. And smiles.

Myths of Los Angeles

2012-04-24T00:00:00.000-04:00

Everyone who's never been to Los Angeles thinks they know Los Angeles. People who've visited Los Angeles think they know Los Angeles. People who live here... don't really care. Granted, all of this is true of most large cities, particularly one that has a presence in the media as large as Los Angeles.

Hell... quite a bit of the time, the "New Yorks," "Miamis," and wherevers you're watching on television or in a movie are actually Los Angeles.

But, so what?

Nobody really gets Los Angeles. Not the tourists. Not the shut-ins who've never been here. Not the people who live here. Not the people who grew up here.

And that's what's so god-damned wonderful about this place.

Someone you know complains about the traffic. Well, duh... there's not a person on the planet who wouldn't complain about L.A. traffic. Or L.A. smog. Or earthquakes.

Someone else you know complains about the fake people here. Yeah, well... there are fake people everywhere. But how much time have you spent in a diner in Studio City? Or a sidewalk cafe in Los Feliz? Or on the beach in Venice? Most of the people are as real as you think you are, or as real as the "someone else you know" thinks they are.

And how do people know the people out here are fake, anyway? Oh, that's right... they buy the gossip mags at the local supermarket.

I will be honest here. I do not like 75% of this city. That figure's probably closer to 90%, but I'm being generous. But the remainder? I fucking love to death. I can honestly say I'm living in the best neighborhood I've ever lived in my life, and I've lived in seven states and three countries.

That stated, I'd still rather be in San Diego... but only because driving to Padres and Chargers games isn't as big a hassle.

It's not easy to live in the city, no. It's not easy to break into Hollywood, no. It's not easy to do a lot of things in a lot of places, and Los Angeles is no different. But it's a great fucking town.

Why am I ranting about this? I dunno... I think part of it has to do with the 20th anniversary of the L.A. riots. A scar this city wears to this day. My close friends know that I don't put much stock in anniversaries, but I had a bit of a profound moment this past weekend, when I went to a production of Twilight: Los Angeles 1992. After the show, the cast asked the audience to stick around for a Q&A regarding current thoughts of the riots. In the first round, they asked for people who were living here at the time. In the second, they asked for people who were not... and that's when I told my story.

See, I grew up just south of here, in San Diego County. I'd just moved to Northern Nevada before the riots starting. I followed the riots closely, still feeling that Southern California was my home (a sentiment I've never lost, even though I don't actually feel I have "a home")... but the one thing I recall the most about the riots? My dad walking in and saying to me, "The city's burning."

And burning it was... for all the wrong reasons.

I don't know what came over me, but something about the conversation prompted me to say - in front of a huge cast of fantastic actors (seriously... the IMDb resumes of these people are insane) - that "I fucking love this city."

It's true... I hate 75% of it... but I fucking love it. I've been to a lot of big cities in my life, and few have the personality that Los Angeles does. It's confused, lost, crazy, chaotic... and home to nearly 4 million people. Only one place in America has more... and it's nothing like this place. Oh, it's no better or worse (unless accounting for weather), but it's nothing like this place.

Anyway, I'm just being sentimental, I suppose. It's been a busy year, the phone's been off the hook the past few weeks, and I'm happy to say that my persistence in pursuing my career aspirations is paying off. Again, my close friends know that, despite that persistence, a lot of the credit in the payoff is due to this city. It's the right place at the right time. Who knew? I guess I did, really, but it's the arrogance of naivete that convinces people you can act the Roman when not in Rome. Look at all the film school graduates, including many of my friends, doing anything but making movies. They've never learned how warm and welcome this place can be. Never took the chance. Why? There are many reasons, obviously, but I'm willing to bet there's a fear of Los Angeles borne of those stupid gossip mags. If they only bothered to find out, it would only take a few months to realize how full of shit those admittedly full-of-shit publications and other media actually are.

Twenty years ago, this wonderful, weird, inspiring, and insane city was burning. Well, I got news for you... it's still burning.

Now, though, the reasons are better.

Hate this place all you want. Blame this place all you want. Just remember that, if you ever make it out this way, there's a part of the City of Angels that will always welcome you home. It took me some time, but I know that now.

Anyway, gotta run... three script deadlines this week. I fucking love this place.

Just a Couple of Songs...

2012-03-28T00:01:00.011-04:00

... when you realize that the person you're stuck with listens to boring music, doesn't explore new music, never even bothers to experiment with music, and can't play any music...

... when you realize that, despite your public protests, you're not really happy...

... just play a couple of songs...

... and don't mind me... I'm just playing in the fields of worlds... the real one and those of my own creation...

... remember to smile.

Enjoy.

Smiles and Everything They Can Mean

2012-03-04T00:01:00.003-05:00

I was scolded for posting my last "mental beat" on my private blog, so I'll post one here...

Smiles and Everything They Can Mean

It's the first sunrise you can remember, and the last you think you will. Maybe it's not very warm, but it probably is. And, at the very least, it's bright enough. If you're on an east coast north of the equator, the reflection over the water will remind you how warm that water is. If you're on a west coast, you'll know that the sun is shining over the heads of almost everyone you know. It's all good. Smile.

It's the last sunset you want to forget, and the first you think you might. Maybe it's cold, but it might be warm. Purples, oranges, and reds inspire photographs because, well, it's not something we're supposed to see too many times. Only in Los Angeles, some people sometimes say, but one day you might find yourself in Los Angeles and wonder what the big deal is. And when it's gone, you'll miss it. Like people, things you see will touch and go. Felt and gone. But always somewhere in the back of your mind. She might hate you, you might hate her, you might not trade who you're with for any amount of memories, but they're still there... nagging the shit out of you. She might read this and smile, thinking I'm thinking about her... but she might be wrong.

Of course, she might be right.

Then again... who has the time to reminisce?

There's the girl in the coffee shop, talking to a friend of yours, but smiling your way. Life's not where either one of you want it to be, but if she's willing to take the chance, why aren't you? Why aren't I?

Because there are other things to be done. One thing at a time. Brick by brick, layer by layer. The wall of humanity is a careful construction always ready to fall. It's best not to crush anyone underneath your weight, even if you're weightless.

Another smile is crooked, because you're a creep. Or, at least, imagined that way. Someone's said something before you even got there and there was too much time for the thought to become belief. Nothing you can do except enjoy your coffee and get the Hell out of there. Don't linger, waiting for the expression to change. If you're important enough... or if they are... the chase will start soon. It might take a sunset to get it started.

A friend will make fun of you. All in good fun.

An enemy will threaten you. How empty of them.

It's all so fucking hysterical. Everything is everything, including a horse. It's all a horse. Hop on and go for a ride. Or don't. Just don't blame anyone else when you finally realize that the world has passed you by. It's your own fault you're so pathetic.

I don't blame you. Or you. Or you. Or you. I blame myself, if indeed there's anything worth passing blame for. And from where I'm standing, everything's okay. It can always get better, sure, and there's always someone better, but who cares? At some point, just pick up the fucking microphone and sing. Off-key, the door might be locked, but somebody's inside... and they just might answer.

Come inside. Have a Coke and a smile.

But mean it, this time. We can all be good company. It's okay to miss it. We all touch. And we all go away. I'll miss it, too.

While we're being honest, doesn't it suck that we even have that saying? Let it make you laugh as you realize that it implies that everyone's usually lying. Watch your favorite doctor on television and nod in silent agreement. Self-incrimination is the implication we live with, and only the laconic avoid the trap of telling on one's self. Just remember... even the loquacious do it with a smile.

Do you keep your head down when you walk around strange places? Is it because you live there? Do you stare at the tops of tall buildings you rarely see? Is it because you're visiting? Regardless, is whatever you're looking at enough to keep you from saying hello to a passerby? Say it sometime. Chances are, you'll surprise everyone, yourself included.

Hello.

It's that fucking simple.

And notice that when you say it to a stranger, there's rarely a goodbye. Oh, you're gone... but you never left, so what does it really matter? Better to be remembered as a moving silhouette than as the angry words you said before a friend died. Or the out-of-place minority ripping the door off of your car when your sedan slid into a tree. We're never where people need us because we never notice who's in need. Irony? Or stupidity. Probably a bit of both... we are all extremely stupid, after all.

Cheer up, though. It's worth laughing about. You ever try to laugh without smiling? It's fucking difficult.

So smile because things are good. Smile because things are bad, but not as bad as they could be. Smile because you're nervous. Smile because, yes, dumbass, she's into you. Keep 'em coming, motherfucker, because no one likes a curmudgeon. I should know.

The world is small. Sit on a park bench in New York City long enough, and the whole world will walk by. No, I didn't say that, and I don't remember who did. Wise words, though... and I'm sure their wait will be perceptibly shorter if they're wearing a smile.

The world is huge. How much of it have you seen? Where were you when you learned your enemies smile the same way you do? Did you even notice?

It's the last sunrise you'll remember, and the first you'll truly appreciate. Maybe it's cold, but that's probably only because you can't feel anything, anyway. The arms holding you up are a stranger's, but they belong to a friend. Give 'em a smile. Let them shed the tear. Leave a mark as they take one. Touched. Gone. Not forgotten.

It's all good. I remember you, and fondly. We're just fine.

Weird Things I've Heard This Year

2012-03-02T00:01:00.048-05:00

So, 2012 has yet to slow down, and (I am forced to admit) it is kicking my ass. I'm exhausted. But... gotta keep up. Anyone want to be a live-in secretary? You can have the bedroom... I'll sleep on the couch with the dog and cats.

Anyhoo... in the last six weeks I have, quite literally, been having two meetings a day, Monday through Friday, with some weekend setups just for shits and giggles. Lots of new partners, lots of new friends... and lots of new psychos (an ex of mine would posit that I should fit right in). I'll be peppering this blog with what my partners and friends are up to all year, I'm sure, but I figured to share some of the strange things I've heard in this young year. And since we just wrapped up awards season, I'll present these as the IrrOscars.

The "Where Were You A Few Years Ago?" Award:

"Oh my god. My baby is beautiful, but if you were the father, she'd be gorgeous."

The "Oh... Kay..." Award:

"There's nothing better than waking up to a mouthful of cock."

The "You Clearly Don't Know What You're Talking About" Award:

"Why did you tell my friends I do meth? I don't do meth. I do speed."

The "Thanks, but I Can Pitch Myself" Award:

"If his stories were women, you'd want to fuck them."

The Vanity Award:

"Did she pass the cold sore test?"

The "I Had No Idea" Award:

"You don't have to pay back your credit cards, because you don't own them and there's a $3 billion credit fund available for the public to use on whatever it wants."

Honorable Mention:

"If an ex has a kid within eight to ten months of your birthday, they were thinking of you while they were fucking."

The "You're an Idiot" Award:

"My girlfriend and I agreed to an open relationship, and she went and fucked some guy four times! She wasn't supposed to do that!"

The "Please, Stop" Award:

"I never thought I'd have to ask someone to stop humping my furniture."

That's all for now. 'Til next time...

Vaguely Organized Musings, January 2012

2012-01-28T00:36:00.003-05:00

Vague Film Stuff

Well, 2012 has only been 27 days (28 by the time anyone reads this... unless, of course, you're in a later time zone, in which case it'll still have only been 27... I'm too lazy to do the math, but I'm thinking nobody will be on January 29th when this goes up... but, yeah... I'm so off topic, I don't even know what the Hell's going on...)...

Lots of ellipses... hmm... Hey, there's two more.

Okay...

So, 2012 has only been 27 days (28 by the... shit... never mind), but it's already kicking ass and taking names. For pretty much the past two weeks (and maybe three), I've been locked in meeting after meeting, pitch after pitch, and shit is getting done. Scripts are out, indie films are in pre-production, and my living room (along with several other living rooms, a few coffee shops, a couple of sushi bars, and a handful of restaurants) have turned into impromptu, planned, and deliberated gatherings of talent and (the one thing every starving artist actually wants) money.

Yep. Money.

For all you aspiring writers out there: there is an end to the rainbow... and it is definitely shiny.

Anyway... pulled this picture off a filmmaker's Facebook page after an extremely long session...

Starbuck yawning, Sagremor (still recovering from shredding open one of his back feet - long story... one that involved me doing field surgery, but I'll save that one for another time) passed the fuck out. Definitely metaphorical.
(click for larger image)

For all you aspiring artists out there: this shit's hard work.

Vague Writing Stuff

First off, I'd like to apologize to the readers of Panoramic Mindscapes. After posting 100,000 words worth of short stories between June and September of last year, I started to slow down... not because I wasn't writing, but because I had to shift my focus to screenplays (some spec, some commissioned). I assure you that I kept up my goal of writing 1000 words per day for the rest of the year, and I even tried to post a script onto Panoramic, but the formatting proved too much of a hassle.

Anyway, I'm slowly ramping up the short story focus again, so expect a short story per day (or at least a chapter of one) again very soon.

Beyond that, some aspiring directors are scouring the shorts on The Tenth Daughter of Memory for material, so some of you might be getting emails from me asking for permission for these people to adapt your work.

Obviously, those of you who have shown unusual dedication, persistence, and a willingness to learn, edit, and rewrite have already received recommendations from me as "read firsts."

Vague Location Stuff

Yeah, so, I may be moving again. Don't know where, don't know when... could be tomorrow, right down the street. Could be the end of April to Australia. Basically, I'm going to wait until that nagging feeling pulls an ex-girlfriend on me and pushes me over the edge.

At which point I'll jump and see where I land.

Don't knock it... it's a fun way to live.

Vague Tommy Lee Stuff

Some of you know that, a few years ago (2007-ish), I wound up driving for Tommy Lee (he of Pamela Anderson fame... and a damned good drummer) during the filming of his reality show. I told a lot of people then that Tommy Lee was probably the coolest, most down-to-earth celebrity I've ever had the fortune (or misfortune) to work with.

Anyway, fast-forward to last week, and I'm going to dinner with a couple of lawyers, a video game designer, a Google programmer, and a film director, and we wind up standing in line at one of my neighborhood's awesome Japanese restaurants (like, really... there's a shitload of awesome Japanese restaurants within walking distance).

Let me back up a bit... I was already drunk at this point.

So, in line in front of me is Tommy Lee. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I don't bother celebrities. I don't get starstruck because, well, I just don't give a shit. But Tommy Lee was cool in Atlanta (where I drove him), so I interrupted his conversation with whomever and shook his hand. Told him we once worked together (because, you know, there's no way the man remembered me) and we had a chat... at which point he totally validated my theory that he's probably the coolest, most down-to-earth celebrity I've ever met.

Seriously, ignore his bad press. The dude's awesome.

Vague Teddy Bear Stuff

So, I just realized that one of Jon Stewart's teddy bear props on The Daily Show is identical to one of my teddy bears. Anyone recognize it?

Yeah, I have a teddy bear... so fucking what?
His name's Rar Bear, by the way.

Vague Nostalgia Stuff

Last, and probably least, I'm missing my other two dogs something fierce, so I figured I'd post some photos of them. Haven't seen them in 18 months. It makes me sad.

Jax, me with insanely short hair, Jasper as a pup

Jax and Jasper, early 2008

I'm gonna go cry now.

Tenth Daughters of Memory, 2011: Volume 2

2012-01-14T00:01:00.026-05:00

So, another six months, another round of short story entries for The Tenth Daughter of Memory. This will probably be the last time I link any of my creative writing from Irreverent Irrelevance, but for the sake of 2011 symmetry, here you go.

Happy to say that "Fig Leaves," "When These Angels Want You Dead," and "Effect" won their respective Muses, and "Walls Have Ears, Calendars Have Eyes" finished as a first runner-up.

Woman or Dragon: The Ride of Your Life (early July)

A Better Ending (late July)

Born Thursday

Rehearsals with Gods (early August)

Two Glass Houses and Twenty Stones (late August)

Opaque

Infest, Infect, Infect (early September)

Deathbed Revenge (late September)

Concrete Butterfly (early October)

The Harmony of Liquid and the Melody of Light (late October)

Landing

In Love, In War, For Lust, Forewarned (early November)

All It Takes

The Curious Case of the Brown Shoes (late November)

Double Down

Under the Cover of Time (early December)

Smiling as the Sparks Fly Upwards (late December)

Flint

De-resolutions

2012-01-10T00:01:00.054-05:00

Just some random musings to kick off the 2012 blogging year...

I hope to be a bit more active here than I was last year. I admit, I got bored with blogging in general (as I'm sure most of you do), but I'll try to pick things up in 2012... although this year I'll have less time. C'est la vie.

Advice: before you promise your producers a new draft of one script, the fine people at the BBC a spec draft of a different script, and enter a writing competition... do make sure the deadlines aren't all the same day. Ugh.

Nice to know that the Christian God is spending Sundays making sure Tim Tebow wins football games. Really, people? C'mon! God's not that crazy... he pulls for the Saints. We all know that already.

I miss my dogs. Jasper, Jax, I will come visit as soon as I can!

Why, oh, why, can't I avoid North Carolina in my life? Just for a little while... please?

The third series of the British TV show, Misfits, started off a little shaky... but, damn. Way to finish!

On December 1st, 2010, I received a fortune from a cookie that read: "You or a close friend will be married within a year." It did not happen. Just sayin.'

For the second time in my life I've learned that the following phrase is always untrue: "I will always help you out, no matter what." Beware of anyone who says that... they have funny ways of justifying why they left you for the wolves. It's a good thing I like wolves, but still...

I don't want to quit smoking. Take that.

Yeah, the Aussie accent is still the best in the English-speaking world. Probably the entire world, but I'm not here to force my subjectivity onto you.

Thank you, 2011, for being the first year in a long time that I didn't get invited to any funerals. I'd prefer it if the next one I attend is my own.

Someone please inform my cat, Sagremor, that while he's outside, it's not polite to jump up and latch onto window screens in order to scare the shit out of me and my guests while we're inside having a conversation. To make matters worse, one guest had just watched the movie The Breed and refused to leave for an hour.

Someone also please inform Sagremor that cats meow... they don't chirp. He really needs to quit doing that.

Just in case this ever comes up again... when driving me to the hospital, don't talk to me. Just get me there.

Nice to know my old unit inactivated with my record-score for firing the M249 unbroken. Yes, a mark no one will ever recall, but I do... and that works for me.

I do believe the above sentence is comprised of horrifyingly bad grammar.

Sorry, but texting me "I think your cute" is a good way to lose my interest.

I have realized that the apostrophe is sexy. Not as sexy as the semicolon, but close.

Aight... enough of this... I'll be around. And hopefully more relevant.

Weight Loss

2011-12-22T00:01:00.016-05:00

Okay, so I've lost a bit of weight lately... but it's not what you think. I am now short an organ (and apparently suffering from low potassium), and since people have been wondering if I'm alive (yes, but for how long remains to be seen... hehehe), I figured I'd share some photos from my recent stay at a wonderful hotel, highlighted by images of early Christmas presents.

Anyhoo... after a pretty bad run of pain for two days, I decided to check in to a hospital. Needless to say, I was a bit surprised when I was told I needed to go into surgery. Fun, fun.

My new television

Apparently, In addition to surgery, I was told I was suffering from a potassium deficiency, and so the lovely nurses (actually, two of them sucked... but the rest were cool) pumped me full of three bags of the stuff (the little IV bag above is potassium). In case anyone doesn't know, potassium hurts like Hell when given intravenously.

My new canteen

Got some cool scars out of the deal... one of them is from the tube this little device left in my abdomen. It's called a Jackson-Pratt drain. They wouldn't let me keep it.

My new bluetooth

Three IV entry points on my poor arms. One on the right (for the antibiotics) and two on the left (including one in my biceps).

My publicist/producer giving birth to Starbuck

The hospital released me into the care of my friends, Pat and Tara, who took me home, at which point we discovered my house was a disaster (thanks to an irresponsible neighbor who left my dog locked in my friggin' bedroom). Between that and the fact that I was on drugs, Tara refused to let me stay there, and so took me to her house and nursed me for three days. On the ride there, Starbuck was somehow born again.

Anyway, I'm sure I bored everyone who read this. I'm gonna pop a vicodin and get some sleep.

Irreviews, 2011: Issue VI

2011-11-10T00:01:00.064-05:00

All right, so I'm falling behind a bit in my Irreviews... I've decided to go to ten movies per entry until I catch up.

Buried (2010)
Director: Rodrigo Cortés
Writer(s): Chris Sparling
Starring: Ryan Reynolds, José Luis García Pérez, Robert Paterson
-----
My first question as I finished up Buried was: how can a movie take place in such a limited location and be so good? My second question was: how can such a movie cost $3 million to make? Regardless of where the money actually went, Buried (which takes place entirely inside of a coffin) is an awesome example of filmmakers challenging themselves with artificial limitations. There are probably a few too many cliches in the film, but given how difficult it must've been to come up with a story like this, it gets a pass.
Verdict: SEE it.

Centurion (2010)
Director: Neil Marshall
Writer(s): Neil Marshall
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Dominic West, Olga Kurylenko
-----
An interesting premise directed by the person responsible for two horror films I admire (The Descent and Dog Soldiers), I watched this based solely on the fact that Neil Marshall's name is on the poster. Basically, a bunch of Roman soldiers in 2nd century England gets screwed fighting the Picts (the story is very loosely based on the disappearance of the Roman Ninth Legion) and a handful of elite Roman soldiers survive to wreak havoc and find their ways back home. The problem with the film is that there's too much "contemporary sensibility" to the story, including some bad-ass ninja-type fighting, a pretty lame love story shoved in the middle, and, well... yeah, you get the idea. Not overly bad, but without a clear identity.
Verdict: Eh...

Cronos (1993)
Director: Guillermo del Toro
Writer(s): Guillermo del Toro
Starring: Federico Luppi, Ron Perlman, Claudio Brook
-----
We're all sick of teeny-bop, romantic vampires (thanks, Anne Rice... you single-handedly saved, then killed, the genre). But, way back in 1993, disturbo-extraordinaire Guillermo del Toro gave us a quirky, Spanish-language tale about a grandfather who inadvertently becomes a bloodsucker (thanks to a centuries-old magic insect stuck in a magic pocket watch... yes, ridiculous, but it works) and is caught between solving the mystery of what happened to him and taking care of his granddaughter (who would make a good meal). This is quite a romantic film, but it's rather unique place in celluloid vampire lore leaves you with a healthy gratitude that someone out there can still spin a vampire story that doesn't involve albino teenager angst. Then again, this was 18 years ago.
Verdict: SEE it.

Election (Hak se wui) (2005)
Director: Johnnie To
Writer(s): Nai-Hoi Yau, Tin-Shing Yip
Starring: Louis Koo, Suet Lam, Tony Leung Ka Fai
-----
There's really not much to say here. Chinese Triad/revenge movies are pretty much all the same these days. At least the ones US distributors seem to want to import. There are a few interesting characters (hit-men that are ordered to change sides on a whim, sadistic-but-not-murderous mob bosses) and the action scenes are well-done, but everything else about the film is pretty flat (I'll reserve from stating "boring," since the pacing is generally quick).
Verdict: SKIP it.

The Fighter (2010)
Director: David O. Russell
Writer(s): Scott Silver (screenplay), Paul Tamasy, Eric Johnson, Keith Dorrington (story)
Starring: Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams
-----
Mark Wahlberg's well-publicized journey to get this film produced often made Wahlberg look like a foolish ass, or a misguided ass, or just straight-up crazy. But, you know what? He just made all the press about it look foolish, misguided, and under-informed. By now you all know that Christian Bale and Melissa Leo won Best Supporting Actor and Actress, respectively (with Amy Adams receiving a nomination, as well), but even those accolades fall short of revealing how good this movie really is. The true story of one brother recovering from crack-cocaine addiction and another brother climbing the ranks in the boxing world is a breath of fresh air in a genre overrun by Disney-fied underdog sports movies.
Verdict: SEE it.

Intacto (2001)
Director: Juan Carlos Fresnadillo
Writer(s): Juan Carlos Fresnadillo, Andrés M. Koppel
Starring: Max von Sydow, Eusebio Poncela, Leonardo Sbaraglia
-----
I first saw a trailer for this film in 2002, when it was imported to the US on a limited art-house basis. But, I never got a chance to see it. Still, the image of blind-folded participants in some sick, twisted, luck-based game running full sprint through a forest never left me. And, so, finally, I tracked the film down and gave it a go. Unlike a previous film I waited years to see (Passion in the Desert), this one was worth the wait. Centered around a group of people who've discovered they can buy, sell, and otherwise transfer luck to each other and have created an underground sport based on that said ability (which culminates in the ultimate Russian roulette match... literally), it's an intriguing story to watch unfold.
Verdict: SEE it.

Red Road (2006)
Director: Andrea Arnold
Writer(s): Andrea Arnold, Lone Scherfig (characters), Anders Thomas Jensen (characters)
Starring: Kate Dickie, Tony Curran, Martin Compston
-----
I'm not a huge fan of Dogme films, a trend of independent filmmaking started by everyone's favorite audience torturer, Lars von Trier. That stated, I did like quite a few of them... I'm just saying that the self-imposed rules of provocative, raw filmmaking don't really add anything to the stories they're often attached to, save for usually making them depressing. Red Road, a Scottish film that was the result of a revival of the Dogme canon, is definitely depressing. For the UK viewer, it's depressing because it involves a woman hunting down the man who accidentally killed her husband and daughter. For the US viewer, it's depressing because it depicts "Big Brother" in such a terrifying manner. Still... I did kinda like it.
Verdict: Eh...

Shutter Island (2010)
Director: Martin Scorcese
Writer(s): Laeta Kalogridis, Dennis Lehane (novel)
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Emily Mortimer, Mark Ruffalo
-----
I love Martin Scorsese. I think Leonardo DiCaprio is a fantastic actor. I think Mark Ruffalo and Ben Kingsley rock. I hate contrived films that want to you be in awe of how clever they are. Add those all together, and I'm not a big fan of this movie. This type of storytelling might have taken Hollywood by storm with The Usual Suspects (a film I love) and The Sixth Sense (a film I don't), but it's run its course. At least it's run its course the way Hollywood keeps trying to do it. Sorry, Marty, but you need to stick to your established genres... you know, the ones you're the indisputable master at. I will acknowledge, however, that Shutter Island was beautifully made.
Verdict: SKIP it.

Trick 'r Treat (2007)
Director: Michael Dougherty
Writer(s): Michael Dougherty
Starring: Anna Paquin, Brian Cox, Dylan Baker
-----
Not since the Creepshow films have we had such a fun collection of horror vignettes. Sure, there was that Tales from the Darkside movie, but who remembers that? Anyway, Trick 'r Treat takes the vignette one step further and intertwines each of its tales to form an almost-cohesive whole. It doesn't quite work as desired, but the backs and forths do provide for an additional laugh or two. Perfect? No. But definitely fun.
Verdict: SEE it.

Videodrome (1983)
Director: David Cronenberg
Writer(s): David Cronenberg
Starring: James Woods, Deborah Harry, Sonja Smits
-----
True story: James Woods has long creeped me out, and I've never really been able to pinpoint why. Another true story: I've long been terrified by the image of a television coming to life and scaring/seducing the man watching it. Last true story: thanks to Netflix and a recent article I read about Cronenberg, I queued and watched Videodrome. I now know why the first two stories are true. Anyway, enough about me... despite dated (and ridiculous) special effects, the moral of Videodrome concerning the dangers of a media-based culture is profound, has proven to be true, and watching this film in retrospect makes it that much more terrifying (in a philosophical sort of way... it's not really that scary... unless you're 5).
Verdict: SEE it.

Things You Can Do With a Sleeping Cat's Ear

2011-11-08T00:01:00.004-05:00

Sorry, nothing profound here... I'm just messing with my camera.

And my cat.

Hair!

2011-11-06T00:01:00.007-04:00

Oh, snap! It's a video blog (which is what I'm guessing a "vlog" is). Anyhoo... first one ever (for me, that is).

Brilliance

2011-10-28T00:01:00.003-04:00

Got news for you. You don't know shit, and neither do I. Everything you've learned is worth forgetting. Everything you've forgotten is worth relearning, as long as it feels new. Friends close and enemies closer doesn't always work; sometimes your enemies stab you too quickly. The best ones don't even wait for you to turn your back, and I'm talking about your friends. Rejoice, shake hands, give a few hugs, cop a feel or two and hope she doesn't call the cops. The twinkle in your eyes is a smile, it's just hard to see in the dark. Then again, everything's hard to see in the dark. So laugh. Make yourself heard when all others are blind. They'll blink first, trust me. You really think those you left by the wayside are better off than you? Maybe they are, but why do you care? They're gone for a reason. Good riddance. Rid yourself of the negativity in your life. If those negativities happen to be people, then say your goodbyes. The world's a big place. Travel it. Never settle. There's always something bigger and better, and all you can take with you are your experiences. Never believe someone who says all they want is to be happy, because they don't know the meaning of the word. All they can see is a wall, a fence, and wonder naively what's on the other side. You ever seen someone who's climbed a fence? They're just as disappointed as they were yesterday. Tomorrow is all that's important, because that's what you'll accomplish. Sure, what you've done has cleared the way, but clarity is only important when there's nothing left to see. And there's always something new, something borrowed, something blue. Like the skies, plural, and the oceans. They're the limits, and they're limitless. Why limit yourself? Be the world around you. Eat, drink, and sleep the world around you. It's not going anywhere, no matter how bad some idiot claims things to be. Life can only be as great as it is shit, otherwise no one would know the difference. Don't worry about what time it is, just know that time is passing. Fuck a watch. All it does is leave an uneven tan line. The Sun loves all of you. Let yourself shine.

Irreviews, 2011: Issue V

2011-10-10T00:01:00.071-04:00

13 Assassins (Jūsannin no Shikaku) (2010)
Director: Takashi Miike
Writer(s): Daisuke Tengan, Kaneo Ikegami (original film),
tarring:
-----
Yet another Japanese film that's based on both a true story and Kurosawa's great The Seven Samurai. This one also happens to be remake. The action's crazy, fun to watch, but a tad over the top. Run of the mill honor/action/intrigue samurai film from a country that's been responsible for far better honor/action/intrigue samurai films (including the original Thirteen Assassins). Production value is outstanding, however, which is to be expected from Takashi Miike (as is the gore). Not much to say about it beyond that.
Verdict: Unless you're a hard-core jidaigeki fan, SKIP it. Watch the original instead.

Ink (2009)
Director: Jamin Winans
Writer(s): Jamin Winans
Starring: Christopher Soren Kelly, Quinn Hunchar, Jessica Duffy
-----
I've never heard of Ink, but its poster intrigued me and I wound up staring at it long enough that I decided to watch the movie. I am very glad I did. Part fantasy, part family drama, this film exhibits an imagination as good as anyone's in mainstream Hollywood. No, the acting isn't great (and hurts it in quite a few places), but the story, action, and imagery are phenomenal. Even more so considering the film's production budget was $250k.
Verdict: SEE it.

Night Watch (2004)
Director: Timur Bekmambitov
Writer(s): Timur Bekmambitov, Laeta Kalogridis, Sergey Lukyanenko (novel)
Starring: Konstantin Khabenskiy, Vladimir Menshov, Mariya Poroshina
-----
I've been trying to see this film for years, ever since I read about how it set a new standard in the Russian film industry. And, boy, the wait was... sort of a disappointment. An interesting take on vampire lore with several unique/uncommon details concerning our favorite bloodsuckers, the movie starts off interesting enough, but quickly devolves into an action spectacle that makes little sense. Yes, the portions of the story that dealt strictly with the vampires are generally to the point, but a strange subplot (ultimately revealed to be the plot, and then not...) involving the apocalypse throws everything for a loop. The movie looks great, but I have no real interest in watching its sequel any time soon.
Verdict: Eh...

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010)
Director: Mike Newell
Writer(s): Boaz Yakin, Doug Miro, Carlo Bernard, Jordan Mechner (screen story and video game)
Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Gemma Arterton, Ben Kingsley
-----
I can honestly claim that Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time is the best movie based on a video game ever. Of course, with a list of films such as Super Mario Bros., Streetfighter, Mortal Kombat, Wing Commander, and Resident Evil, that's not exactly a revealing accomplishment. That stated, it's a fun movie and a potential franchise-launcher. Jake Gyllenhaal wasn't as bad in the role as most feared he would be and, in fact, he pulled it off quite nicely.
Verdict: It's fun. SEE it.

Wilderness (2006)
Director: Michael J. Bassett.
Writer(s): Dario Poloni
Starring: Sean Pertwee, Alex Reid, Toby Kebbell
-----
A low-budget teen thriller set on a small island off the coast of England. This had all the markings of yet another "kids run around getting killed off by maniacal killer one at a time" movie, and that's exactly what it is. Except it knows that's what it is and plays it more intelligently than Hollywood's thrill-mill genre. A good cast with good characters and a (mostly) believable premise make this a good one for fans of the genre. I'll be honest... I only watched it because Alex Reid is in it.
Verdict: I liked it, but I'll refrain from recommending it. SKIP it.

What a Day...

2011-10-05T00:01:00.005-04:00

Yeah, I'm in an inordinately massive good mood. Why? Well, I'll tell ya. I had a seriously eventful day... yarp... all of this happened in a single day (give or take a few hours)...

A script I wrote got agency representation...

Two different film investment groups expressed interest in purchasing said script and are on the verge of a bidding war...

And I have a pitch meeting at a production company in which I'm supposed to bring a ton of my work... apparently, they already like me...

A friend of mine hooked me up with filmmakers who have connections with some little known films such as Bull Durham and Tin Cup... and they dig me...

A couple of aspiring writers somehow heard of the Aussie Breakfast technique and have approached me to help develop them...

I got a gig working on writing hip-hop music videos... Really? Those things have writers???

Beyond that, I'm still riding a high because one of the writers I'm developing got a short story published in a New Zealand magazine...

And my dog loves me. Hooray for October 4, 2011.

A Victory for an Aussie Breakfast

2011-09-27T00:01:00.007-04:00

Since this past April, I've been developing a writing exercise to help aspiring writers. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't believe in the bullshit of "writer's block," and part of the intent of this exercise is to help prove that writer's block does not exist. Basically, I wanted to shove that proof down the throats of creative writers who keep trying to hide behind that arbitrary, self-inflicted, totally craptacular notion.

And, what can I say, it's worked. I haven't formally asked any of the participants in the exercise yet, but I'm certain they will now agree that there's no such thing as writer's block, if they didn't already.

Anyway, the exercise is called "Aussie breakfast writing," so-named because the first piece written using the method was titled An Australian Breakfast (believe me, I wanted to call the method something else, but the name sorta stuck...). The exercise itself is nothing special, but I'm not going to discuss how it works as of yet, since I'm still testing it out with writers and am in the process of analyzing and comparing the works they've created.

Which brings us to the question: Why the Hell am I mentioning it?

Well, I admit, I was going to wait before I wrote about Aussie breakfasts, but something pretty friggin' awesome happened this past week...

One of them got published.

Yes, that's right... an Aussie breakfast piece, "Fakie," written by a university student in New Zealand, got picked up in a magazine that sent out a call for creative writing for one of their September issues. What's amazing is that the writer (check out her blog here) has no formal creative writing training, and beat out several entries written by people who do.

Now's probably the time I should mention that another goal of Aussie breakfast writing is to obviate creative writing courses... cough, cough.

I guess we're on our way.

Irreviews, 2011: Issue IV

2011-09-24T00:01:00.068-04:00

The Descent: Part 2 (2009)
Director: Jon Harris
Writer(s): James McCarthy, J Blakeson, James Watkins, Neil Marshall (characters)
Starring: Shauna Macdonald, Krysten Cummings, Gavan O'Herlihy, Anna Skellern
-----
It's a generalization that movie sequels aren't as good as the films they follow (and, likely, not entirely true). It's another generalization that horror movie sequels are despicably bad (and, likely, true). That stated, The Descent: Part 2 isn't a bad movie... it's just not good, either. A horribly contrived setup and throwaway characters (something the first movie avoided) just make this another run-of-the-mill move from the horror-movie-mill of the motion picture industry. Not to mention an ending that, well... didn't make a whole lot of sense.
Verdict: Uber-fans of the original, sure. Otherwise, SKIP it.

The Expendables (2010)
Director: Sylvester Stallone
Writer(s): Dave Callaham, Sylverster Stallone
Starring: Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Jet Li, Dolph Lundgren, Eric Roberts, Randy Couture, Steve Austin, Giselle Itié, Terry Crews, Mickey Rourke
-----
A throwback to the action movies of the 80s in every way, shape, and form. Plot? 80s. Hell, Reagan could've written it. Characters? 80s. Total "badass" archetypes. Actors? Heh... mostly 80s action stars who are well over the hill. But, it's this last point that makes the movie kinda fun. Stallone knew what he was doing when he put this spectacularly spectacle-filled garbage together. It did its job.
Verdict: Did I enjoy it? Yes. Can I recommend it? No. SKIP it.

Horror Express (1972)
Director: Gene Martin
Writer(s): Arnaud d'Usseau, Julian Zimet
Starring: Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Alberto de Mendoza, Silvia Tortosa
-----
What's this? Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee on the same side??? That alone makes this B-movie nod to both Hammer films and The Thing From Another World worth seeing. Yes, the plot is ridiculous, the monster/alien/zombie/whatever-the-fuck is ridiculous. But, damn... Cushing and Lee! On the same side! And Telly Savalas as a Russian sort-of-villain, to boot. This is guilty pleasure at its best.
Verdict: Yeah, well, why not? SEE it.

Iron Man 2 (2010)
Director: Jon Favreau
Writer(s): Justin Theroux, Stan Lee (comic), Jack Kirby (comic)
Starring: Robert Downey, Jr., Gwyneth Paltrow, Don Cheadle, Scarlett Johansson, Sam Rockwell, Mickey Rourke
-----
It's a generalization that movie sequels aren't as good as the films they follow (that sounds familiar...). And while Iron Man 2 is not as good as Iron Man, it's an awesome movie. The recast of Rhodes from Terrence Howard to Don Cheadle had me worried, at first, but it's now clear to me that Cheadle's a good fit. Sure, he lacks Howard's somberness, but he more than makes up for it with Cheadle-ness (that's a good thing). And, anyway, who cares? This film's all about the suit and the man who plays it. Robert Downey, Jr. keeps the fun going, and even Scarlett Johansson isn't as annoying as she can often be (I state this for no apparent reason, since I typically enjoy her films).
Verdict: SEE it.

Shiver (2007)
Director: Isidro Ortiz
Writer(s): Hernán Migoya, José Gamo, Alejandro Hernández, Isidro Ortiz
Starring: Junio Valverde, Francesc Orella, Mar Sodupe, Jimmy Barnatán, Blanca Suárez
-----
Shiver marks yet another Spanish horror film that is... well... good. I can't be sure if it's because the Spanish are just good at horror at the moment, or because of the "foreign film effect" in which only good foreign films are imported to the US (probably the latter), but Shiver is a good movie. It plays upon vampire and werewolf themes without (egad) being about either of those two creatures. That's probably giving too much away, so I'll shut up now.
Verdict: SEE it.

Irreviews, 2011: Issue III

2011-09-21T00:01:00.034-04:00

Animal Farm (1954)
Director: Joy Batchelor, John Halas
Writer(s): George Orwell (novel), Lothar Wolff, Borden Mace, Philip Stapp
Starring: Gordon Heath, Maurice Denham
-----
George Orwell comes to the screen in this animated classic. Though slightly more pro-Western than the source material (keeping its anti-communist bent, but muting its anti-capitalist bent a tad), it's nevertheless an excellent cinematic political satire. I've never been so pissed off at the mistreatment of a horse in my life. Death to Pigs!
Verdict: SEE it.

The Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader (2010)
Director: Michael Apted
Writer(s): Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely, Michael Petroni, C.S. Lewis (novel)
Starring: Georgie Henley, Skandar Keynes, Ben Barnes, Will Poulter
-----
The first entry in The Chronicles of Narnia from new distributor Fox, the story continues to be told competently, even if it's losing some of its charm. I'll admit, I had high hopes for this one, since Voyage of the Dawn Treader is (along with The Horse and His Boy) one of my two favorite books in the series. I wasn't disappointed, but neither was I overly impressed.
Verdict: Er... SEE it, if you're already a fan.

The Social Network (2010)
Director: David Fincher
Writer(s): Aaron Sorkin, Ben Mezrich (book)
Starring: Jesse Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield
-----
Facebook rules the world. Pretty much. And this movie purports to be the (highly fictionalized) true story of how Facebook began to the rule the world. Say what you will, it's a damned good movie. Jesse Eisenberg is fantastic as the screen Mark Zuckerberg, and even Justin Timberlake (who's yet to show he can act) didn't suck things up. David Fincher continues to show he's one of the best directors out there, capable of handling any genre with relative ease.
Verdict: SEE it.

The Tree of Life (2011)
Director: Terrence Malick
Writer(s): Terrence Malick
Starring: Brad Pitt, Sean Penn, Jessica Chastain
-----
Terrence Malick makes good movies. Terrence Malick makes beautiful movies. The Tree of Life is a beautiful movie. But, boy, is it boring. While the slices of "real life" are convincing and the plot is easily believable, the movie's "little train that could" determination to be considered an art film derails it... big time. Clearly, Terrence Malick wanted to share his personal beliefs and perspectives with the rest of the world, yelling "look how perceptive and omniscient I am" at the audience. If you want good Malick, skip this one and rent The Thin Red Line instead.
Verdict: SKIP it. Full of pretense, satisfying only to the pretentious.

Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2008)
Director: Kevin Smith
Writer(s): Kevin Smith
Starring: Elizabeth Banks, Seth Rogen, Craig Robinson
-----
Yes, the title caused a hubbub. But the movie is cute, romantic, and Kevin Smith's best directorial effort since Dogma (even though I liked Clerks II, but more for nostalgic reasons). Seth Rogen isn't annoying, and Elizabeth Banks sells her role with ease. Who knew porn could inspire true love to reveal itself?
Verdict: SEE it.

Irreviews: British Television, Issue II

2011-09-14T00:01:00.000-04:00

More British shows for you to check out (or not):

Misfits (2009-present, 2 series, 17 episodes)
Starring: Robert Sheehan, Iwan Rheon, Lauren Socha, Antonia Thomas, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett
-----
For those of you who still have a bad taste in their mouths from Heroes, look no further. Misfits takes the accidental superheroes theme and runs full-sprint with it. Deep, layered characterizations combined with top-notch writing, and you'll never bother with "save the cheerleader" again. As implied, the series isn't entirely original, but its execution earns its kudos (although the series 2 finale left something to be desired...).
Verdict: SEE it. Quite simply one of the best sci-fi series ever.

Smack the Pony (1999-2003, 3 series, 21 episodes + 2 specials)
Starring: Fiona Allen, Doon Mackichan, Sally Phillips, Sarah Alexander, Darren Boyd
-----
Not only decidedly British, but decidedly British woman, Smack the Pony is a skit show that takes some time to find its footing (almost losing this viewer in the process), but ultimately turns into a solid source of laughs.
Verdict: SEE it, but you might want to skim the first series.

That Mitchell and Webb Look (2006-present, 4 series, 24 episodes)
Starring: David Mitchell, Robert Webb, James Bachman
-----
Ridiculous, inane, irreverent... and all from the guys who bring you Peep Show. Another skit show from the land of awesome skit shows, That Mitchell and Webb Look is top-notch, top-tier, and a laugh riot.
Verdict: SEE it.

Ultimate Force (2002-2006, 4 series, 21 episodes)
Starring: Ross Kemp, Jamie Draven, Miles Anderson, Alex Reid, Danny Sapani, Jamie Bamber, Tony Curran
-----
This show is, no doubt, one of the inspirations for the American series, The Unit. However, where The Unit never really found balance between action and character, the first two series' of Ultimate Force hit the nail on the proverbial head. Quite possibly the best special operations-oriented television show in history... for its first two series, that is. A ghastly decision by the showrunners to reformat into a more action-oriented spectacle resulted in one of the worst special operations-oriented television shows in history. It's no wonder a huge portion of the cast quit after series two (seriously... four of the six regulars took off).
Verdict: The first two series... SEE it. SKIP the rest.

Ultraviolet (1998, 1 series, 6 episodes)
Starring: Jack Davenport, Susannah Harker, Idris Elba, Philip Quast, Colette Brown, Fiona Dolman
-----
An interesting take on vampires, it's one part police procedural and one part conspiracy theory. It's clear there was an attempt to be scientific/forensic concerning vampirism, but there are far too many "magical explanations" that keep the wall of disbelief up. Still, it's different enough to be worth a look, and the appearance of Stephen Moyer as a vampire (nearly a decade before True Blood) will probably garner interest among True Blood fans.
Verdict: If you need a vampire fix, SEE it.

Eulogies

2011-09-11T00:01:00.021-04:00

For Omer, for Dave, for Glen, and for countless others I don't have the ability to properly write for.

De oppresso liber, essayons, and this we'll defend...

12,300

2011-09-06T00:01:00.018-04:00

And there you are, alone in the dark, alone with your thoughts. A glass of Merlot recalls what it once was to be grapes on a vine, underfoot, barefoot, the sand between your toes and saltwater for sex. The Sun rises anywhere, but it looks different everywhere. Have you seen the Southern Cross? Experience the world upside down and realize Dorothy had it right all along. All roads lead to Rome, all roads to home. Welcome back and au revoir.

"Are you happy?"

Answer a question with a question. Revel in your rhetoric, but know it won't change a thing.

"Are you?"

Seals on the beach stare for moment, curious. It doesn't take long for them to become disinterested. They've learned the meaning of it all... we just are. It's reason enough for them to live, why isn't it enough for you? Nothing's behind the curtain because there is no curtain. It's all there to see, all there to touch, and when you see her, when you touch her, well... it's all you'll need to know. Good enough is good enough, because the pursuit of perfection takes you where everything else will take you, and you already know you can't take it with you.

Speak of disgusting things in French, it'll sound better. Play the piano, even if you can't play the piano. Touch a wild horse. Ride a horse. Watch a sport you don't know the rules to, and enjoy it. Fly across an ocean to look at a beautiful woman. See the stars under a different sky. Drive to Belize. Scream at the top of your lungs until it becomes a song. And dance. Never forget to dance. Never stop moving. Be confident; never comfortable. Sharks rule the oceans because they don't know what it is to be complacent. The kings of the jungle don't even live in jungles. It's easy to rule when your empire is far away. A far off place. We are all monarchs of our memories.

Laugh more often. The joke's on you. Cry more often. Woe is me. Ignore what everyone else wears, what everyone else drives. The road doesn't care. The landscape doesn't mind. Just go... While you're sitting down, thankful that you have a job, someone else has learned to live. No longer the race, but the rat. Nature provides. It's all so fucking hysterical, this irony. This belief that intelligence is responsible for intelligence. What, then, is learning? You are you who want to be... it's not anyone else's fault that your aspirations are so banal.

"What is it you do?"

"Nothing."

Smile as they try to figure out whether to be jealous or to feel sorry for you.

"What do you want to do?"

"Don't really know. Don't really care."

In their confusion, they'll think you're confused.

Eat, sleep, fuck. Have another glass of wine. Play in the rain. Learn to cook. Want to know everything, knowing you're too small. Take everything at face value as long as it's not two-faced. Realize that the moral are only so because they fuck around. Know your enemies. They're probably friends. As long as you're willing to lie on any level, white or black, you're not to be trusted. Fiction only entertains. The truth will, as it's said, set you free. Break your God damned chains and accept that God is worthy of being damned. Who you listen to is up to you. Avoid indoctrination. Find North on your own, be it by star or by gravity. Fall from a plane, at least once. Breathe underwater. Humanity is unnatural. Live it.

What can I do and what have I done are the two most important things to ask. We are weak, we are frail. Imagination and memory are what sets us apart. A true church relishes instinct, it doesn't suppress it. You want to walk on water? Then spread the legs of the one you love and wake them up with an orgasm. You want a kingdom? Love her. You want power? Tell her you love her. You want glory? Show her. The rules of life change, and rules from yesterday no longer apply. Everything moves in one direction. It's called time. Accept it, and join in the progression. Grow old gracefully. Someone will remember you for the way you were, even if it's all a lie.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?"

"Five years from now."

"Yes, where do you see yourself?"

"That was my answer."

Talk of everything and nothing. Worry only about what you can change. Tell the children of dead friends how good their fathers and mothers were. Forget that you weren't there to help. Screw the guilt before it screws you. You can't be everywhere at once. Omnipresence is a myth, as is omnipotence. Omniscience? The world is more than you'll ever know. It's more than anyone can ever know.

And there you are, alone in the dark, alone with your thoughts. A cup of coffee recalls what it once was to be beans on a tree, underhand, barehanded, the wind in your hair and blood for lust. The Moon disappears, but it'll be back. Have you seen the North Star? Stand on your own two feet and remember that wherever you've gone, you've been. The path not taken wasn't worth taking. Bonjour. Find what you're looking for.

Irreviews: British Television, Issue I

2011-08-23T00:01:00.019-04:00

I haven't done any kind of television rant, rave, or review in a while, so here's one for you.

Thanks to magic of Hulu, I've been catching up on shows watched by our cousins across the pond. It all started when a long-favorite show of mine (Spaced) landed on Hulu. I can't state it enough: best. sitcom. ever. And, yes, I did the fanboy thing and watched the entire series again.

That led me to a bunch of other series (strategically advertised by Hulu's placement ads).

Now, I'm no stranger to British television (I've been watching Top Gear and Graham Norton for years), but until recently, I haven't seen enough of it to get a decent cultural picture of it. Given the shows below (along with several others I've seen the past - Primeval, Spooks, etc.) I think I'm learning... and quickly. I also think that London is, as far as television is concerned, the new New York.

In other words, the quality of British television is much, much higher than ours. HBO notwithstanding.

Australian television, on the other hand... well, I'll save that for another rant.

Black Books (2000-2004, 3 series, 18 episodes)
Starring: Dylan Moran, Bill Bailey, Tamsin Greig
-----
Bernard Black (Moran) is an irreverent, disrespectful, deviant of a man. And he owns a book shop. Problem is, he can't be bothered to run it properly. Enter Manny (Bailey), an aloof, kind-hearted weirdo who has a propensity for business and a need for a job, room, and board. Sort of an over-the-top Odd Couple (odd threesome, really, when accounting for Fran, Bernard's oldest friend), Black Books is a riot.
Verdict: SEE it. And worship the Bernard.

The Book Group (2002-2003, 2 series, 12 episodes)
Starring: Anne Dudek, Bonnie Engstrom, Michelle Gomez, James Lance, Rory McCann, Saskia Mulder, Derek Riddell
-----
Scotland-based American ex-pat Clare Pettengill (Dudek) has trouble making friends, so she decides to form a book group in an attempt to find like-minded people. Instead, she finds a drug-addicted smart-ass, three footballers' wives who just want to get away from the grind of celebrity, a secretly gay football fan who just wants to get close to footballers, and a paraplegic aspiring writer. It's touted as a comedy, but it's not very funny. Avid American viewers might enjoy Anne Dudek (formerly of House) and the later appearance of Henry Ian Cusick (Lost).
Verdict: SKIP it.

Green Wing (2004-2006, 2 series, 17 episodes + 1 special)
Starring: Sally Breton, Oliver Chris, Olivia Colman, Michelle Gomez, Tamsin Greig, Pippa Haywood, Mark Heap, Katie Lyons, Stephen Mangan, Lucinda Raikes, Julian Rhind-Tutt, Karl Theobald, Sarah Alexander
-----
Scrubs, meet your competition from across the pond. This entirely over-the-top comedy is somehow both more cheeky and more realistic than its American cousin. The cast is perfect, the characters are insane, and it's a riot. I'll probably watch this again at some point.
Verdict: SEE it.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1981, 6 episodes)
Starring: Peter Jones, Simon Jones, David Dixon, Sandra Dickinson, Mark Wing-Davey, Stephen Moore
-----
The first attempt at adapting Douglas Adams' BBC radio classic to the screen, it's arguably the best version. No, the recent film isn't as bad as people claimed and, no, you can't really state that any version is more faithful to the source material since Adams himself has rewritten the source material several times. That stated, is the BBC miniseries all that great? Maybe... but it hasn't aged well.
Verdict: If you're a fan, SEE it. Otherwise, you won't feel like you've missed anything.

Peep Show (2003-present, 7 series, 42 episodes)
Starring: David Mitchell, Robert Webb, Olivia Colman, Matt King, Neil Fitzmaurice
-----
A unique sitcom told primarily from the first-person perspectives of its two main characters, Mark and Jeremy (Mitchell and Webb). Mark tries to live his life responsibly, pursuing a corporate career and studying history. Jeremy tries to live his life on the edge, pursuing music and doing a lot of drugs. The problem is, neither is any good at what they do, and role-reversals abound. What's the gimmick? Not only is the series shot first-person, it's narrated by the characters' thoughts.
Verdict: SEE it. Mitchell and Webb are hilarious.

Driving With Starbuck

2011-08-13T00:01:00.010-04:00

Most of you know by now that I'm a dog-lover (cat-lover, too, but we're not discussing that at the moment). For a long time, I had three dogs. But, faced with the decision to pursue a career aspiration or "keeping the family together," I was forced to leave two of them. It's a decision that bothers me and will continue to do so. Hopefully, one day, I can get them back. Until that happens, though... it's just me and Starbuck.

L-R: Starbuck, Jax, Jasper - happier times

I've learned a lot about Starbuck over the past year of just him and me. You see, I initially acquired him for my then-girlfriend, who often liked to complain (playfully, of course) that she didn't have a dog that loved just her. Which was, I'll admit, true. Jax was mine (but adored the girlfriend) and Jasper was mine (but looked upon the girlfriend as his surrogate mother). She wanted a dog that was hers and hers alone.

Silly thought, yes, but I figured... why not?

So we went to a local PetSmart on a Saturday and spent some time looking at the not-great selection of dogs they had for adoption. There was Starbuck (named Skeeter - bleh - at the time), sitting in his cage, basically looking scared and curious at the same time. I could tell my girlfriend was on the fence, having something else in mind (probably a Yorky or some sort of purse-dog), but she was taken with his personality. Something about him screamed "I need you." We asked one of the workers if we could walk him around the store for a while, and that's what my girlfriend did. She probably won't admit it, but she found herself liking the guy. I told her to get him, and that I'd pay for everything. She balked at the price tag (rather hefty, I'll confess), but I said it was okay. She wanted a dog and I was more than willing to get her one (I will, however, also confess to being apprehensive about getting a third dog... keep in mind that, at that time, we also had six - SIX - cats).

Wondering where his mother is...

Long-story short, she took him home and he latched onto her like glue. Point of fact was that he was scared of me. It was revealed to us, both by the adoption worker and by the dog's behavior, that he was severely beaten by his previous owner. He avoided me like the plague, going so far to beg, scratch, and whine at the bedroom door whenever my girlfriend closed it. We had an on-again, off-again rule pertaining to no pets in the bedroom, and while we broke it often anyway, she always broke it for Starbuck.

Yeah, fine... he was hers. I'd pretend to argue, but I didn't really care. She loved that dog more than, again, she'd probably admit.

Over the years, we moved around a lot and my girlfriend took off for home, leaving me with Starbuck. It bothered him greatly, at first, but eventually he came around to trusting me. I can now raise my hand, sweep the floor with a broom, and put him in a vehicle without him freaking out (he used to throw up in cars... I'm thinking his previous owner locked him in the trunk or something).

So, another long-story short, Starbuck - the dog I didn't really want - became mine. He was stubborn, smart (showing a strange knack for escaping and problem-solving in general), and altogether loveable. He was reunited with my ex for a while, and it was clear that he (along with the other two dogs) remembered her fondly (which she'll deny... but I had a howling German Shepherd to prove it). The reunion didn't last very long, and he was mine alone once again.

Then came the decision to move for my career. I could only bring one dog with me. Jasper, the Shepherd, was too big and too loud. Jax (my preference, since I had him the longest) couldn't go, since there was already a dog living where I'd be moving to, and she wasn't spayed (Jax still has his nuts). So, by default, I took Starbuck... fearing countless escapes and altogether bad behavior.

Only... it never happened. Yes, he escaped from a gated, concrete-and-brick-walled yard the first week there, but as he was alone (without his escape buddy, Jax), he generally stuck around. He became my best friend. I found I could walk him around town without a leash. I found he got along with other dogs extremely well, even whining when he could smell a German Shepherd or other large dog (I'm guessing he initially thinks they're Jasper). I found he was a good companion for my cats (although maybe not my squirrels). I found, truly, I had a good and loyal friend. A dog I was never even supposed to have.

Caught in the act...

Now, one of things I used to do with all three dogs was go on drives, hikes, and road-trips in general. They used to ride happily in the back of my pickup, enjoying each other's company in anticipation of the adventures ahead. Obviously, without the other two, riding in the back is now lonely proposition.

So... I started letting Starbuck ride in the passenger seat up front. Not an easy decision, mind you, as cleaning his white hair on my charcoal gray upholstered seats is not something to look forward to. But I just couldn't leave him by himself.

That's when I discovered his fear of driving at night. Oh, he's tip-top and blissful during the day, but oncoming headlights terrify him. And I do mean terrify. He flinches at their passing, sometimes even hiding on the floorboard. Very often, if you look carefully as I drive by, I'll have my hand over his eyes so he doesn't freak out. It's pathetic, I know, but I can't bear the thought of him again becoming afraid of an activity that he, not so very long ago, had gotten over his fear of.

What else can I do but engage in a modified form of peek-a-boo with oncoming traffic?

He's not just sticking his head out the driver's side...
he's fucking driving.

And you know what? I couldn't care less. He's an awesome dog. I used to mock-complain about how my girlfriend should come take him off my hands (three dogs is expensive, you know), but she'd have to shoot me to get him back now.

That stated, he's still a stubborn bastard, getting into trouble whenever and however he can. I got the mugshot to prove it: