Category: Film


Code monkey like dancing!

I probably should’ve posted this earlier, to share a little spark of mid-finals happiness with all the Mudd nerds. Alas, the Claremonters have all packed up and gone home now…and I’m still writing papers in Seasonal Affective Denmark. So it’s my little spark of mid-finals happiness! MINE!

I have such a girl-crush on the lady who did this video. She is a credit to the thespian race. I feel inspired to get up and rock out ridiculously…with the camera off, for the sake of the rest of the world.

The song is “Code Monkey” by Jonathan Coulton, Creative Commons-licensed geek rocker extraordinaire. I would definitely pay to see him in concert. For now, though, I will satisfy myself with the loads of music he has on his site. Go listen! Now!

Beauty

A long time ago, I wrote about how the band Tryad had asked me to contribute vocals for one of their songs. And how this was totally sweet. Well, the song got finished and was released first as a single, then as part of the full “Listen” album, a while ago. But I never got around to posting about it.

So, here it is: Beauty

I think it came out pretty well. :)

P.S.: For extra credit, I also contributed background vocals to a second Tryad track, “Breathe.” It has a music video!

Back to pretending to work on my European News Media paper (“Photojournalism and the Internet: Correction, Collaboration, Convergence”).

Ankomst

I’ve never been able to sleep on planes. I zone out, I close my eyes, my head falls forward–and I jerk up, awake. Something about the cramped quarters, I think. I’ve had real sleep in cars, on buses, on trains–just not planes.

But, I thought, maybe this time would be different. I’d gotten only two hours’ sleep the night before and none during the day. The flight would be dark, stretching from 5:30 PM EST to 7:30 AM CEST. Surely I would slumber for at least part of those 8 hours!

Ha ha. No.

About half of the people on the plane were DISers. Hyped up about their upcoming semester and meeting fellow students, they chatted for about the first few hours of the flight. Then there were the two movies–”Take the Lead” (so-so, Mad Hot Ballroom was the same topic only far cuter) and “Mean Girls” (an actually good movie? On a plane? Say it ain’t so!).

And even as the plane finally quieted down in the last three hours or so of the flight, my airborne insomnia, annoyingly, proved stronger than my sleep dep. I remember looking over across the aisle at an older man snoring lightly, empty vodka bottle on his tray table. I suddenly realized why they serve those overpriced drinks on flights.

Maybe I’ll try that next time.

I ended up going about 50 hours with only two hours of sleep. Ironically, though, while this made my first day hell, I think it reset my system such that later I haven’t had much jet lag.

Anyway. As dawn broke outside the plane, I was exhausted, dehydrated (damn the DHS), missing Nelson, and feeling mildly nauseous from the few bites of airplane food I’d attempted. I looked down on the endless grey nimbostratus and wondered if this trip wasn’t a big mistake.

But then we broke through the clouds. I realized I was looking down at the ocean, grey-blue and calm, with flat grey-green islands peeking through the fog. The plane raced over the beach toward the runway, overpassing adorable green and gold farms with freshly-painted red houses and spotted cows. In that moment, for the first time, I was really, truly excited about being here.

This is what is known as the honeymoon phase of study abroad. We’ll see whether or not it lasts. For now, though, I am in love with beautiful Denmark.

Pirates II review

Last night Nelson and I caught the midnight opener of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest with a bunch of SWILies (SWIL is the Swarthmore nerd frat–basically East Dorm with less LARPing).

The whole movie’s basically a giant exercise in fan service. Lots of references to jokes in the previous movie (at least three rum jokes!) that really wouldn’t make much sense on their own. Fight scenes that as often as not fall over the edge of ridiculousness (*Two* instances of big rolling things hurdling down hills?? Huh?? And that Looney Tunes bit with Jack, the pole, and the fruit really should not have been in there.) and as a result feel like they drag. And for all the fanfickers out there, a makeout session between Elizabeth and Jack, as Will watches. What?

It feels like this installment will only make sense when paired with the third movie. It introduces all sorts of plot entanglements (not elaborated due to spoilers) but really the only thing settled by the end of the movie is that the kraken and Davy Jones are no longer chasing them right this moment. Everything else still hangs in the air. Maybe I missed something, but why the heck was Davy Jones going after Jack anyway? Something about thirteen years’ captaincy on the Black Pearl…but no specifics.

At two and a half hours, the movie really could have used a good editor to tighten up the fight scenes (and get rid of one of those damn rolling things) and replace some of the repeat jokes with more fresh ones. It feels like the movie’s producers knew how iconic Pirates of the Caribbean I was that they weren’t confident enough that they could reproduce the kind of quotable wit that it provided, so they took refuge in making a pile of derivative work instead.

They updated the soundtrack with a bunch of cool pipe organ music, which was a nice dramatic touch. Good way to bring in organ nerds like my dad. Less cool, they brought in an Oracle-ripoff character (vaguely creepy psychic black lady whose character seems to lack self-interest or any motivations whatsoever) who really seemed out of place in this movie. The way they introduce her, I was expecting a badass like Patience (from Firefly), but so far she’s unsettling but completely benign.

The movie’s very funny, it’s entertaining, and there are some fresh bits to it. But it really doesn’t stand on its own merits. If you’re a fan of the first, see it…but not at full price. Wait for the second run theaters or so.

C For Cookie

Somebody remixed the V For Vendetta trailer with Sesame Street. A little rough at some points, but given how much dialogue is in the trailer it’s a pretty ambitious mashup. Check it out.

On an unrelated note, if anybody has superglue, I want to talk to you.

FreeCulture.org is hosting a video remix contest, in preparation for a crazy audiovisual Pirate Parrrty they will be holding during the Free Culture conference two weeks from now. There are prizes. You should totally enter something.

More importantly, however… (?) Observe the Pirate Party website I designed today instead of doing my homework. All of the site (well, except for the Jolly Roger (which is credited), and a JavaScript doodad I found through Google… bah) is my work from scratch. I have moved beyond CSS cannibalism! Woo hoo! *does a dance*

Okay, I’m done now.

V For Vendetta

I went to see V For Vendetta with Carolyn and the posse Friday night. Very well done–clearly the two Matrix sequels did not, in fact, signify the death of the Wachowski brothers’ directorial skills.

The film has a way of showing you just as much as you need to know–and no more. You only see the horrors of the prisons in the movie in quick flashes and well-edited clips. That’s all you need to see–a glimpse of a tasered prisoner, a mass grave, or a black bag on a man’s head, is sufficient to put the grim images of Abu Ghraib, Rwanda, or Gilliam’s Brazil in your mind. Unlike pretty much every other film with a masked man, the audience never sees what’s behind V’s mask. Having seen his scarred hands and scorched silhouette, looking at V’s damaged face would have been superfluous, somehow.

Regarding the political message of the film, however, my feelings are more ambivalent. Is the purpose of the film to make audiences feel sympathy for terrorists? Some of the reviews I’ve read suggest this, but V For Vendetta really doesn’t humanize V very effectively. We cheer for him, sure, but he isn’t “one of us.” V has two settings, it seems: his rather clinical search for revenge and his weird, chaste love for Evey. We don’t know his former name, his parents, where he came from, as Evey points out. V is an abstract, dramatic force, the embodiment of the drama-loving “anarchist” in all of us. He’s a superhero, not a human.

I’m uneasy about the film’s conception of anarchism as well. Although V is the hero, he doesn’t get far beyond the stereotype of anarchists as bomb-throwing loonies. He has some good one-liners (“People should not be afraid of their government. Government should be afraid of its people.”) that I could nod along with–but that’s all they were, one-liners. Modern anarchism has many internal divisions, but let it not be said that anarchists have nothing to say about, say, free-market capitalism, religion or the environment! It’s a very opinionated lot! Yet V has little to no comment on any of these.

As Hollywood films go, V For Vendetta is a pretty intelligent one. The movie assumes that its audience is conscious and can apply the movie’s references (Middle East neo-imperialism, TV spin–even bird flu!) to real-world events. The audience has a pretty easy time concluding that “something has gone terribly wrong.” But what to do now? Besides some pretty explosions, the film doesn’t really have answers.

Or does it?

The most significant political act in the film is not the deaths of the head honchos of England’s fascist government–it is a rather minor point at the end. Without direction from the top, the soldiers on the ground have to make a choice whether or not to shoot the protestors. If the soldiers actually believed in that “England Prevails!” stuff, they could have massacred the lot. If the soldiers feared their own countrymen, they could have committed a large-scale Kent State. But the soldiers not only put down their guns–they let the protestors push past them! I’m pretty sure that has never actually happened anywhere–if the guns come out, they stay out! However, the scene shows that the soldiers feel greater solidarity with the protestors (fellow citizens, and perhaps friends and family members too) than with their cloistered, hypercentralized government-employer. As they should.

Or maybe the most significant political moment is the way that Evey says “No” at gunpoint to the cop trying to keep her from blowing up Parliament. Evey used to be completely under the thumb of the regime–a “security mom”-type. She knows how awful the regime is–better than most, given what happened to her parents–but she’s too petrified to do anything about it. After her trials by fire, however, she’s afraid of nothing. And she’s completely, radically free.

What if we were all that free?

It has been argued many times before that the War on Terror is an unwinnable war. It’s true. But it is not an unendable war. The War on Terror will last only as long as we consent to be terrified. Imagine if every “security mom”-type in America woke up, got in the driver’s seat of her minivan, and thought, “It is thousands of times more likely that I’ll die in a car crash than in a terrorist attack. And I’m okay with that.” The War on Terror would become instantly irrelevant. The government would be forced to stop obscenely exploiting 9/11 and waving fear in our faces. Instead, the administration would have to answer for its irrational, fascist policies.

America can only be the “land of the free” if it is also the “home of the brave.” Otherwise, we end up wa(i)ving our rights with our desperate flags.

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