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Fail On The Ice

  • Oct. 6th, 2009 at 11:55 PM
maverick
So, remember how a few weeks ago I was all "Oh, I'm TOTALLY going to watch The Battle of the Blades because I love my cheese TV?" Well, Canada, I tried to. I tried to, but it was the most amateurish and awkward ten minutes I had ever wasted on any show. And I watched the entire season of Bachelorettes in Alaska: Looking for Love, so I know of what I speak.

It's hard to pick just one way in which the show failed. Maybe it was the Dancing With The Stars-like move of having the practiced, female partners gyrate suggestively to mask the fact that the male partners can't dance, or rather, skate? That Kurt Browning and Ron MacLean seemed perpetually out of breath?

No, it would be that Dick Button's scoring monitor didn't work. Yes, this crucial part of the show wasn't checked before the CBC put this thing live to air. No 6.0 for you, CBC.

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The Good, The Bad and the Funny

  • Oct. 4th, 2009 at 1:12 PM
knitdog
 
Three Things Or So... )Man, sorry to let my angry screed about Roman Polanski stay up there for so long. I meant to post something else, but I then life kept on getting in the way. Except for Thursday, since that was Day 4 of Project: Protagitron becomes a hermit and there was just no excuse. So without further ado, three little things about last week:

1. The Good: There's been a lot of this lately. I did nothing but knit and watch movies, curled up next to my cat, for four days. I had an amusing run-in with an old crush object, proving I am genetically incapable of pretending not see one convincingly. And pretty much the whole weekend so far has been awesome, from having curry with friends to seeing one of them kick ass playing lacrosse. Those girls aren't quite as nasty as womens rugby, but they're still pretty fierce. But so far, the biggest "good" has been seeing Dragonette with the delightful Poli and Amanda. We danced. Oh, how we danced. Except to music that was more like this. When I grow up, I want to have cheekbones like Martina Sorbara.

2. The Bad: I always thought the catty bitch thing was just a high school movie trope. And even then, the catty bitch always gets hers in the final act. But no! When I was on the bus, this horrendous girl behind me tore into some friend's girlfriend in a way that made me feel as if I had fallen into a John Hughes movie. It started off with "I just don't think her personality is sparkling enough to make up for how fat she is. I really think he's a chubby chaser," and then went on for ten minutes of the most vile shit I had ever heard. It was hard to choose which was the biggest turd sentence: "But personality comes in a lot of sizes. Why couldn't he get one that was thin?" or "She's like the pair of pants that're too big for him but he still wears." Really, honey? It's not like women don't get enough shit about their bodies already from the media, so just go on ahead and do the dirty work for them.

3. The Funny: I tend to speak quickly and somewhat sloppily. Usually this just leads to people asking "What?" a lot and my mom imploring me to speak properly. But the other day at work, my adorable desk neighbor asked: "Is that an accent, or is it just the way you talk?" Heh. The next time someone asks me "What?" I'm just going to plead it's my impenetrable Southwestern Ontario accent. Thick as pea soup, it is.

*She ordered from an Etsy seller, SophiesBeads, if you want to get your own.</div>

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Plant Killah

  • Sep. 28th, 2009 at 11:43 PM
knitdog
I think it's time to accept the fact that my orchid plant is dead. First I over-watered it, then I under-watered it and then I decided at the 11th hour to have a regular watering schedule and try and tend the thing.

Unfortunately the top part looks suspiciously like a Tim Burton film (curled and choppy) and the bottom isn't looking too hot either. Rest in peace, brave orchid, and at least you fared better than the Indian Rubber Plant I used to dump my orange juice into. Fermentation is only a good thing in wine and beer, people.

Anyway, I'm beginning to wonder if my inability to keep houseplants alive is a sign of some pathological inability to settle down. I've been in this apartment since July and some of the rooms still look as if I haven't fully moved in yet. I bought a curtain rod at Ikea two or three weeks ago I still haven't got around to putting up. It just sits there, mocking me with its industrious Helvetica font and easy mounting system.

But I've decided not to worry about it and buy the only solution: an aloe vera plant. Those things are nigh impossible to kill.

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The WASPiest Thing Ever

  • Sep. 26th, 2009 at 10:37 AM
omg
Those of you who know me outside of this blog know that, in spite of being half-Ukrainian, I have one of the WASPiest names on record. My name is the mayonnaise of names. The country club. The black watch plaid blanket, etc.
Click to see what it might be! )

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I Love You, Canada

  • Sep. 23rd, 2009 at 11:49 PM
sheep
Okay, I have a maple-flavored confession: I'm kind of excited for the Battle of the Blades. Why? Let's see. I like cheesy dance competitions. I was forced to like figure skating by my Mom, although lingering bitterness towards Elvis Stojko remains. I often tolerate hockey. Combine these things and CBC's low production values and sense of earnestness, and you get something I'll definitely sit in front of when I'm eating dinner from a can.
More CanCon Corn! )

Damn Woman Troubles: Jennifer's Body

  • Sep. 21st, 2009 at 11:57 PM
knitdog

 

 
Better watch out for the queen bee. )
Don't go and see Jennifer's Body if you want to be scared. It's not a horror movie. Sure, it sounds like one, with half-eaten corpses and a good girl named Needy who suspects that something's gone wrong with her best friend Jennifer. Yes, Needy, she's "not just high school evil" or, to paraphase a line from Ginger Snaps, another movie full of girls gone bloodthirsty and feminist goodies, there's something wrong with Jennifer. More than her just being... female.

Yes, once again the female body is used to juice up a horror movie, to give it some edge and a veneer of social commentary. Just like a typical chiller, there's a satanic ritual that leads to the lovely Jennifer getting all chewy on some boys. But atypically, there's very little tension or gore. If you're a hardcore horror fan, you can guess when every scare is being set up.

And then you'll wait, and wait, because Karyn Kusama's just a beat off when it comes to the jump tactics. At one point, Needy suddenly sees a bloody and wild-looking Jennifer crossing the road. Then she disappears, and Needy desperately scans to the left and the right, barely giving herself time to look right in front of her. Of course you know that's just where will be. Jennifer suddenly appears on the windshield, but not before Needy looks a few more times at each side. It's hard to jump when you're checking your watch.

But should you go and see it if you're looking for something feminist to chase down your popcorn? Maybe yes, maybe no. I can see readings that work both ways. This movie doesn't shame female sexuality like most horror movies, and particularly slashers, do. But Needy's eager and awkward sex is framed completely differently than Jennifer's carnivorous lust. The consensus on female sexuality in this movie seems to be that it's just fine, as long as it's with a boy who's as quirky as you. Things go wrong when you play the field, or when you finally let the textual lesbian relationship in the open in a somewhat porny scene.

And that still doesn't get into how your enjoyment of the movie will depend on your personal thoughts on Diablo Cody: screenwriter, celebrity and lover of all things leopard print. The script definitely sounds like one of hers, sometimes funny, often annoying. If hearing "What's up, Monistat?" doesn't make you twitch, you like your feminism taken lite and you don't need to be scared, it's worth a trip to the cinema.
</div>

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To Guelph!

  • Sep. 16th, 2009 at 11:55 PM
knitdog
I'm off to the hometown tomorrow. I'm sure Proustian reveries set off by farmer's market bacon, or at least beer illicitly drank in the basement, are not far off.

At least I usually get some decent thrift store finds.Quick Thoughts On Little Ashes Ahead )

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Ideals + Reality= Mediocrity

  • Sep. 15th, 2009 at 11:25 PM
knitdog
Between temporarily turning into one of those house-proud loons over the weekend (every big thrift store AND Ikea- my feet were ground into nubs) and my current flaking out on a movie, I'm wondering if I'm turning into one of those people. You know who they are. The ones who always say they want to go out more, but never do because they have a date with an Allen wrench and a Pflüg. Or because they're making something from the new Bon Appetit. Or because they're part of a couple and need to do boring couple-y things together. No howler monkey sex allowed.

But the truth is, I'm rather enjoying cocooning myself in blankets with only the cat for company for the moment. Well, on a physical level. Mentally, I'm all aboard the guilt train. What should I be doing with my time instead? Oh, I have so many ideas.

Proactive Urge: Go see Sorority Row! See friends!
Lazy Consciousness: Buh. Brain tired. Movie looks silly. Can watch old Black Christmas at home. Original The House On Sorority Row too if feeling more appropriate/masochistic.
Compromise: Watch first half of most recent Mad Men episode before the streaming video causes my computer to crash.

Proactive Urge: Find out about world! Read important-sounding article in the Times with headline "U.N. Finds Signs of War Crimes on Both Sides in Gaza."
Lazy Consciousness: Ugh. Depressing. Nobody wins, everybody loses, etc.
Compromise: Read "Habitats: Meow Spoken Here" and take notes.

Proactive Urge: Read Lost Girls
Lazy Consciousness: Ugh, Alan Moore so talky. Melinda Gebbie's art so pencil-y. Lesbian sex...
Compromise: Read about lesbian sex? Sure thing!

Proactive Urge: Get angry about Tucker Max's upcoming movie and his current legion of asshat fans. Find a way to stop this movie without somehow giving it more publicity.
Lazy Consciousness:
Fighting losing battle. White, soulless straight dudes will always win. Especially when they have little people conventions to write about/ have sex at. Donate all posessions and earnings to NOW before moving to shack in the Arctic.
Compromise: Mentioning it on this blog.

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3 Day Novel Fail, Pt. 2

  • Sep. 10th, 2009 at 11:48 PM
knitdog
As a continuation of my 3-Day Novel Fail, I've collected some of my most misanthropic lines so you can share in the gloom.

Something I forgot to say yesterday was that, after I realized my novel was going South, South 'til it had gone all the way around and was going North, North, I made one addition. Inspired by my recent Penguin Gothic Reds kick, where the story is often presented as some kind of found manuscript within the plot, I wrote in a prologue and an epilogue that had a team of adventurers discovering the work in a Chevy Cabriolet in the backwoods and then going mad. I think I might be the only one who'll read it and get the joke though.

Here they are, the 3-Day Novel Greatest Misses

Click to see them all! )

3 Day Novel Fail

  • Sep. 9th, 2009 at 10:23 PM
knitdog
So, the novel is finished... but at what cost? I started out thinking I was writing an offbeat but endearing love story about two misfits. Instead, when I went to review my finished draft Sunday night, I realized I had instead written 76-odd pages of unrelenting misery, starring two people too miserable to be with anyone but each other.

I was finishing it up with some of my co-workers, and I would read out choice cuts of misanthropy- the hero's ingrown hair, romantic chitchat about rancid chicken, thoughts on being a freelancer- and swear that I gave them souls at some point in the story. But at page 63, I realized it was just never going to happen.

Furthermore, I had a few technical complaints about my work. It was disillusioning to see every one of the quirks of people who write but shouldn't be writers. Awkward shifts between dialogue and description, pedestrian and purple pose, telling but not showing and worse, worse my complete abuse of the word "apparently." Apparently, I trust nothing as a writer, especially not the thoughts of my own characters.

I wouldn't say this had put me off writing completely. But I am taking some time off before finishing one of my other projects. If it's also a textbook on depression and hateful people, maybe it's time to finally look into a banking jobs.

Still, I wrote 76 double-spaced pages in 3 days and packed in a breakfast at Dusty's. And all it cost me was a trip into the dark, dank and moldy reaches of my soul... bitches.

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3 Day Novel Contest

  • Sep. 4th, 2009 at 10:58 PM
knitdog
In a fit of insanity I signed up for the 3-Day Novel Contest. Which means I'll be finding a state somewhere past insanity over the next few days. Post-modern insanity. Po-mosanity if you will. I will let you know how it all went on Monday. Until then, go go writing fingers.

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The Generation Gap

  • Sep. 2nd, 2009 at 10:13 PM
knitdog
A couple of weeks ago, I went to see Adam with my ex-roommate Iris. It was her choice. I'm generally wary of movies that try to cuddle up psychological conditions of any kind. I don't want to stigmatize them, but I also think there's a certain type of movie that beautifies them to the point where a burden is placed on real-life sufferers to be brilliant, life-changing and affirming smurflets who fart out mathematical theorems and platitudes all the time. And judging from the trailer, it was that kind of movie. But I was willing to give it a shot.

Iris, who's worked with Aspies, was loving it. I wasn't hating it, although there were a few parts, like the Magical Black Man, that made me groan. But near the end, lovable Aspie Adam has grown, as has his norm lover. And as he opens a package from her, a song wells up about how "when you were young and everything you needed done was done for you" And even Iris was like, "This is a little much," because now he's more independent, you see. And I was like "I feel like I'm in a Starbucks."

So a few days later, my Dad came up and dropped off a few CDs, probably to get me off my terrible 80s pop kick. And one of them was by a band called The Weepies. And then a co-worker was singing along to them too. Since my Dad is cooler than me, as is the coworker frankly, I decided it was really time for me to give it a listen. So I pop it in the computer and what's the first song that starts playing?

THE STARBUCKS SONG FROM ADAM.

Dad, we need to talk. And far away from venti soy cappuchinos.

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knitdog
I didn't realize how odd it would be, or how nostalgia-inducing, to see Froshies wandering the streets of Montreal. This whole post-grad thing kind of snuck up on me. It felt like one day it was still summer and I could maintain the illusion of being a college student on a temporary break from life. And then the next day, drunken 18 year-olds were running me down in their neon shirts while I returned to the job I might* be returning to for the rest of the year. As this is the first time I won't be buying textbooks, new pens or optimistically writing in a scholastic planner, I feel both regret and guilt at being a bad consumer. Maybe I should buy a Crayola pack at Bureau En Gros to assuage my guilt or something.

I'm not sure whether to keep up my studies on my own or give up and start watching Twice in a Lifetime on repeat**. I've already forgotten important points on de Saussure and Radway, which would seem like a reason to haul out the course packs. But then again, if I go into grad school for epidemiology, or simply spend the rest of my days as a shiftless jack of all words, will I ever really need to recap de Saussure and structuralism? On the other hand, I could keep up with my friends who are still in school.

Sigh, I'm not sure which way to go. Maybe I should pick a third path and study something I never studied before. Particle theory, here I come!
Note: I do not think it bodes well that I spelled it "particly" the first time around.

*Depending on how my latest fuck-up at work pans out.
** Was saved from doing so today by friends. Probably for the best because it started out with someone humorously slipping on a book and dying. You know, for the laffs only a low-budget, Cancon serial drama can provide.

Slaughter At The Nickelodeon

  • Aug. 27th, 2009 at 1:08 AM
knitdog

I'm beginning to think the true unsung heroes of the cinema are the trailersmiths who slaved away on the B-movies of the 70s and 80s. They had to spin shit into drive-in gold, and came up with some genius solutions. Some of my favorites:Various You-Tubey links and such follow.  )

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They're Coming Back!

  • Aug. 25th, 2009 at 11:29 PM
knitdog
A bee stung me today. Clearly the survivors of colony collapse are coming back and this time they're pollinating MAYHEM. Or maybe it was my fault for not checking where I was leaning my hand and pretty much impaling myself on a bee. That being said, as a bee lover and wannabe apiarist, I still feel betrayed. Just which beloved creature will turn on me next- cephalopods?But what if they DID! )</div></div>
 

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The Current Book Pile

  • Aug. 23rd, 2009 at 4:42 PM
knitdog
I wanted to post my list of the greatest 70s horror movie trailers today, but it's still being compiled. Gore is serious business, you know. So instead, take a look at the diagram of my current book pile. As you might remember from the last time, this includes both books on the go, just finished and those I mean to start.Book pics and more! )

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The Language Question: Napoleon's Revenge

  • Aug. 20th, 2009 at 8:28 PM
knitdog
Last night, I spent an ungodly amount of time squeezing out a letter in French it would have taken me about three minutes to write in English. And if a real Francophone ever read it (in other words, anything but a product of Ontario's lax commitment to French Immersion) it would probably read like mad libs. Or some translations of anime movies. Or a Nigerian bank scam.

But after hours, or rather minutes, of double checking the gender of every second word in an online dictionary, I'm proud, damn it. Although it's yet another reason to sign up for French classes instead of Russian lessons. With French classes, I would be able to formulate a coherent letter requesting repairs to my apartment... theoretically. Or at least be able to request directions to the nearest affordable and clean hotel. With Russian, I could... read War and Peace in the original? Try and pick up a chess player in the park so we could discuss ontology as foreplay? I need someone to champion the Russian language here, people.

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Hipster Love 2, Aliens 1

  • Aug. 19th, 2009 at 11:33 PM
sheep
I've realized something over my past few weeks of movie watching. For an ex-Cultural Studies student, I kind of blow at formulating coherent interpretations of movies. At least in real life. And especially right after I watch them. Usually I just feel like grunting "Derrrrr, movie bad!" or "Derrrrr, good movie!" before lumbering out of the theatre to digest my popcorn.

Come to think of it, school was a bit of a crap shoot too, with papers ranging from the good (sociological causation in Altman's A Wedding), the bad (monstrosity in Black Narcissus) to the ugly (the cultural myth of Aran sweaters) without any kind of consistency. So, I'll just give you my unstudied, random thoughts on a couple of movies I've seen recently.
  • (500) Days of Summer: Like those parentheses in the title? Don't feel they're at all precious? Then you'll probably like this movie. Otherwise you might spend most of the time muttering "Over stylized!" and "White people need to stop whining." to yourself. I felt a little bit of both. The structure annoyed me, but I found parts of it really touching and honest. See it with someone who is as secretly squishy and romantic as you are, under that carapace of cynicism. Or else rent Commando. Again.
  • District 9: It grew on me a lot since I watched it on Saturday. Probably because the hangover headache I was battling while watching all the explosions wore off. The general consensus among my friends was that the movie rocked, but that the documentary-like parts were stronger than the straight-up action sequences. Still, it's that perfect blend of excitement over speculative technology that goes boom and topical political paranoia that makes great Sci Fi. Also, has more splatter than most horror movies.
  • Paper Heart:If you checked out my quickie list, you probably have a good idea of where this is going. Sigh. It's not a bad movie, just a frequently annoying one. Charlyne Yi doesn't believe in love and her buddy's made a documentary about it. Or is it a documentary? Why, the director's played by an actor! Just what is truth and what is fiction? Do such distinctions even matter in our po-mo society? Conclusion: yes they do, if they mean I have to look at twee-ass puppets acting out someone's life story when they converge. And people should be banned from acoustic guitars once they fall in love/like/whatever.

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