I seen The Curious Case of Benjamin Button a while ago, but actually didn't realise that it hadn't opened in Ireland or I would've reviewed it well before now. But, as it opens back home today, I thought that I'd throw in my two cents with a brief review.
The film is based upon a short story by F Scott Fitzgerald and tells the story of a man that ages in reverse. Brad Pitt plays the title role of Benjamin Button (for which he was nominated for Best Actor at the Academy Awards), with a supporting cast of Cate Blanchett as his chief love interest and Taraji P. Henson (also Oscar Nominated for Best Supporting Actress) as Benjamin's de-facto adoptive mother.
There are, broadly, two types of people who go to the cinema. There are those who want to see a particular movie, who are in the minority; and then there are those who just want to go to the cinema. I generally fall into the second category. I will pretty much watch anything in the cinema since I enjoy both movies and the cinematic experience. I'm sure most people reading this fall into the same group.
If indeed you do fall into this latter, "ah, sure we'll go the flicks" group, then you will probably enjoy Benjamin Button. However, I can pretty much guarantee you that it will not end up on your "favourite movies" list. It is a well told, well written yarn. But ultimately there's not much to it. I couldn't help but say to myself afterwards, "yeah, so he ages backwards, big deal".
If, however, you fall into the first group - you will most likely be disappointed. This is not a major cinematic event. Rather, it is a half-decent film with some good special effects that will take up a few hours of your life. Any expectations of greatness will kill this film in your post-analysis.
The fact that Benjamin Button received 13 (yes, thirteen) Oscar Nominations is beyond belief. Yes, I can somewhat understand it getting nominated for the technical categories such as sound and special effect; but Best Actor, Best Picture, and Best Director? That's a bit much to be honest. And one viewing will tell you as much yourself.
Bard Pitt (a great actor who has played some phenomenal roles) is not stretched in Benjamin Button. In fact, it wouldn't have mattered in the slightest had this part had been played by any other actor. As for Best Picture, well, I've listed my views above - it's an average film, and that's pretty much it. And David Fincher has previously directed both Seven and Fight Club featuring Brad Pitt. If he didn't receive Best Director for either of those, then he doesn't deserve it for this.
To sum up, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a fairly enjoyable yarn. It is not in the same league a Forrest Gump, with which it has drawn comparrisons and shares the same scriptwriter. It will not blow you away, and ultimately you will come out saying casually to your fellow cinema-goer, as you surely have with so many average films before, "that was alright, wasn't it?".
Friday 30 January 2009
Wednesday 28 January 2009
On your Marx...
I'm just after reading a blog post over at The Cedar Lounge Revolution that says that an e-mail is doing the rounds attributing a quote to Karl Marx whereby he pretty much pulled a Nostradamus and predicted the current economic crisis. In fact, he kinda-sorta nails it. Down to the nationalisation of the banks. Except, according to them, he doesn't. Well, someone nails it, just not Marx. Always the bridesmaid with the predictions is our Karl.
However, what the author of that blog post doesn't realise is that it is a direct Marx quote from a unpublished text that even Marx himself at the time thought too - get a load of this for irony - revolutionary to publish. I have gained access to that text through my sources and can bring you excerpts from it.
The original 'leaked' quote in question is:
"Owners of capital will stimulate the working class to buy more and more of expensive goods, houses and technology, pushing them to take more and more expensive credits, until their debt becomes unbearable. The unpaid debt will lead to bankruptcy of banks, which will have to be nationalized, and the State will have to take the road which will eventually lead to communism." Karl Marx, 1867
This quote in itself is quite prescient from Marx. But wait, there's more:
"The road to communism will be long and arduous, however, and capitalism will prove a steely foe. As if to paraphrase the words of that guy from Independence Day, the bourgeoisie will cry, 'we will not go quietly into the night'. And the proletariat will answer, 'of course not, you will have your 'In Da Club' ringtones to break the deathly silence'."
- ibid
He continues:
"Against a backdrop of people dropping their house keys back through the Anglo Irish Bank's letterbox - or whatever alternative to letterbox technology comes up with by then - and yet more people wondering why on earth they signed a one-year contract with O2 for the new iPhone when their old Nokia worked just fine, one man will rise like a Red Lazarus from the Starbucks-coloured flames, shouting, 'now you fucks - see what you get for giving Varadkar my seat?'"
- ibid
And there you have it folks. Marx - pissing all over The Oracle at Delphi.
However, what the author of that blog post doesn't realise is that it is a direct Marx quote from a unpublished text that even Marx himself at the time thought too - get a load of this for irony - revolutionary to publish. I have gained access to that text through my sources and can bring you excerpts from it.
The original 'leaked' quote in question is:
"Owners of capital will stimulate the working class to buy more and more of expensive goods, houses and technology, pushing them to take more and more expensive credits, until their debt becomes unbearable. The unpaid debt will lead to bankruptcy of banks, which will have to be nationalized, and the State will have to take the road which will eventually lead to communism." Karl Marx, 1867
This quote in itself is quite prescient from Marx. But wait, there's more:
"The road to communism will be long and arduous, however, and capitalism will prove a steely foe. As if to paraphrase the words of that guy from Independence Day, the bourgeoisie will cry, 'we will not go quietly into the night'. And the proletariat will answer, 'of course not, you will have your 'In Da Club' ringtones to break the deathly silence'."
- ibid
He continues:
"Against a backdrop of people dropping their house keys back through the Anglo Irish Bank's letterbox - or whatever alternative to letterbox technology comes up with by then - and yet more people wondering why on earth they signed a one-year contract with O2 for the new iPhone when their old Nokia worked just fine, one man will rise like a Red Lazarus from the Starbucks-coloured flames, shouting, 'now you fucks - see what you get for giving Varadkar my seat?'"
- ibid
And there you have it folks. Marx - pissing all over The Oracle at Delphi.
Why Lost is a Piece of Shit...
I myself have never watched an episode of the much lauded series Lost. I remember the pilot appearing on television and kind of said to myself, "I must watch that", but I never bothered. I am delighted I didn't because I can also say now that it is a pile of shit and that I most likely (I can't remember every single instance) did more constructive, life-enhancing things with my time like searching for images of the Virgin Mary in toast.
How, you may ask, can I make such a condemnation of a show I have never watched?
Simple. The whole allure of Lost is that people watching it pretty much have no fucking idea what's going on. Now, this is not the same as other TV series where people have no idea what's going to happen. Instead, Lost keeps people tuned in because they ultimately want to find out what the island is and how everything ties together.
However, they will never get a satisfactory answer to that question.
Yes, surely the writers will come up with some sort of ending for the show - but that ending will be resoundingly considered "a complete let down" and "a betrayal of the show".
The reason for this is that the creators (obviously continuing the series at the behest of the networks, seeking revenue from a show with big viewing numbers) have no fucking idea themselves about what way it will end.
I know what you're thinking. "Oh, but they have to know what it's all about - there's so many things pointing to it". No, there's not. There's a bunch of weird shit happening. Disabled people being able to walk again, mysterious "Others", fucking tropic polar bears, time travel - and loads of other random 'Wow' shit like that.
If the shows creators had a final concept for what was going on on the island - and in the series in general - from the get-go, then doesn't it make sense that they would have a definitive notion of the length that the show can run for? That is, to stay true to what was actually happening, they wouldn't have much control over the length that the show can ultimately run for.
I'll give you a concrete example from another show, Heroes.
In season one of Heroes (which I watched, and actually enjoyed), the writers knew exactly where they were going with the whole thing. The series was structured as if the writers knew what the final resolution of the season would be from the very beginning. Of course, the viewers did not - hence it was fairly successful. Problem: the writers hadn't a fucking clue where to go after that initial series and, predictably, series two and three were a joke. What the fuck was going on nobody knew - especially not the writers.
Lost has this very same problem. However, due to the nature of the show (i.e. the mysterious premise of the whole thing) they can get away with it, because people don't get the these-cunts-haven't-a-clue-where-they're-going-with-this vibe as readily as with a 'straight' series like Heroes or Prison Break (with which the exact same happened after series one).
If you watch the show, and you want to do a practical experiment, try this: ask yourself what final ending and explanation of Lost would truly surprise and impress you?
There's pretty much one answer for anyone even approaching the average intelligence mark - and that's "none". There is no ending that will surprise anyone who watches the show because the show has gone on for too fucking long and people now expect a shocking ending that cannot possibly come about because there is simply nothing that shocking in the Universe.
I kid you not. Unless the writers of Lost actually discovered Jesus Christ himself living somewhere on earth and they convinced him to stay in their mansion in the Hollywood Hills and to reveal himself to the world in the final episode then the shows final climax will be a let-down.
People have run through every permutation of possible ending: it's a government experiment; they're all dead and in heaven/hell/purgatory; it's a parallel universe; it's a dream/nightmare; and on and fucking on, ad infinitum...
Do you know how far outside the box the writers would have to think to come up with a surprise ending? So far outside that as soon as they conceived the surprise ending their fucking heads would explode, that's how far.
The only way that they could possibly end Lost on a high note would be to screen a final episode whereby the writers are all sitting in a room and they basically say to viewers, "well, assholes, I can't believe you wasted so much time watching the show - we haven't written a final script and we never will".
Sure, this would piss off the millions of people who've steadfastly watched the show - but remember, like I said above, they will be pissed off no matter what happens. At least with this ending the rest of us will get a laugh.
How, you may ask, can I make such a condemnation of a show I have never watched?
Simple. The whole allure of Lost is that people watching it pretty much have no fucking idea what's going on. Now, this is not the same as other TV series where people have no idea what's going to happen. Instead, Lost keeps people tuned in because they ultimately want to find out what the island is and how everything ties together.
However, they will never get a satisfactory answer to that question.
Yes, surely the writers will come up with some sort of ending for the show - but that ending will be resoundingly considered "a complete let down" and "a betrayal of the show".
The reason for this is that the creators (obviously continuing the series at the behest of the networks, seeking revenue from a show with big viewing numbers) have no fucking idea themselves about what way it will end.
I know what you're thinking. "Oh, but they have to know what it's all about - there's so many things pointing to it". No, there's not. There's a bunch of weird shit happening. Disabled people being able to walk again, mysterious "Others", fucking tropic polar bears, time travel - and loads of other random 'Wow' shit like that.
If the shows creators had a final concept for what was going on on the island - and in the series in general - from the get-go, then doesn't it make sense that they would have a definitive notion of the length that the show can run for? That is, to stay true to what was actually happening, they wouldn't have much control over the length that the show can ultimately run for.
I'll give you a concrete example from another show, Heroes.
In season one of Heroes (which I watched, and actually enjoyed), the writers knew exactly where they were going with the whole thing. The series was structured as if the writers knew what the final resolution of the season would be from the very beginning. Of course, the viewers did not - hence it was fairly successful. Problem: the writers hadn't a fucking clue where to go after that initial series and, predictably, series two and three were a joke. What the fuck was going on nobody knew - especially not the writers.
Lost has this very same problem. However, due to the nature of the show (i.e. the mysterious premise of the whole thing) they can get away with it, because people don't get the these-cunts-haven't-a-clue-where-they're-going-with-this vibe as readily as with a 'straight' series like Heroes or Prison Break (with which the exact same happened after series one).
If you watch the show, and you want to do a practical experiment, try this: ask yourself what final ending and explanation of Lost would truly surprise and impress you?
There's pretty much one answer for anyone even approaching the average intelligence mark - and that's "none". There is no ending that will surprise anyone who watches the show because the show has gone on for too fucking long and people now expect a shocking ending that cannot possibly come about because there is simply nothing that shocking in the Universe.
I kid you not. Unless the writers of Lost actually discovered Jesus Christ himself living somewhere on earth and they convinced him to stay in their mansion in the Hollywood Hills and to reveal himself to the world in the final episode then the shows final climax will be a let-down.
People have run through every permutation of possible ending: it's a government experiment; they're all dead and in heaven/hell/purgatory; it's a parallel universe; it's a dream/nightmare; and on and fucking on, ad infinitum...
Do you know how far outside the box the writers would have to think to come up with a surprise ending? So far outside that as soon as they conceived the surprise ending their fucking heads would explode, that's how far.
The only way that they could possibly end Lost on a high note would be to screen a final episode whereby the writers are all sitting in a room and they basically say to viewers, "well, assholes, I can't believe you wasted so much time watching the show - we haven't written a final script and we never will".
Sure, this would piss off the millions of people who've steadfastly watched the show - but remember, like I said above, they will be pissed off no matter what happens. At least with this ending the rest of us will get a laugh.
Tuesday 27 January 2009
Gona Be High-igh-igh As A Kite By Then
I only realised for the first time recently that Elton John's "Rocket Man" was about drug addiction. Or, to be pedantic, a man who has lost everything because of his drug addiction.
I always would’ve considered myself fairly on the ball when it came to metaphors and symbolism, but this one totally escaped me. Honestly, for my entire fucking life (presuming it was on the radio in the delivery room) I’ve seriously thought that that song was about a guy who had a rocket backpack that could make him fly – you know, like Superman or something. It never once crossed my mind that a) the lyrics might be a metaphor for something more relevant, or b) why the fuck would someone write a song about having a rocket backpack?
So there I was, listening to the song, and all of a sudden I started thinking about the lyrics... and here’s exactly how it went (internal monologue in italics):
# “She packed my bags last night pre-flight” #
– doesn’t ‘pack his bags’ mean ‘kicked out’? Why would she kick him out because he wanted to go spinnin around on his backpack thing? Maybe he’s spending too much time fucking around in the park, spitting on seagulls, than at home.
# "And I'm gona be high as a kite by then" #
- wait a minute...? ‘High as a kite’ could be interpreted in two ways!
# “I miss the earth so much I miss my wife
It's lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight” #
– Holy shit! It’s almost 51% likely that this song isn’t about having a rocket backpack!
# “I'm not the man they think I am at home
Oh no no no I'm a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone” #
– Ok, at this point I’m not really thinking about much; rather, I’m singing along to the “I’m a Rocket Man” bit, trying my best to hit the high notes (don't deny it - you know you do it to)…
“Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids
In fact it's cold as hell”
– Ah, the anti-drugs message that all former addicts put at the end of songs, books, movies, etc. I’ve yet to see a piece of work by a former drug addict that just said, “kids – get as fucked up as you like, cause it’s cool, and you might be able to write a good song out of it… and if you die, even a shit song will do”
Monday 26 January 2009
Please God, Forgive Me For This Post
Like most Irish people, I am a lapsed Catholic.
Don't go to church. Never pray. Break a good majority of the commandments. Am quite often uncharitable and just plain unchristian. But, nonetheless, would still consider it bad form if God stopped me getting into heaven. After all, I am Irish - and sure didn't we pretty much invent the religion?
Also, like most people - not just Irish people - I know for a fact that I am going to die in plane crash. This is the most likely way for anybody to die, followed by a close-second 'natural causes'.
Now, I'm not uncomfortable with this - I've accepted my fate. And in fact I've figured out a way to stop a plane from crashing... even if you're not flying it. You simply squeeze the armrests really hard during any turbulence and, naturally enough, this stops anything bad happening as the plane won't crash while someone is holding on to a part of it so steadfastly. It's a science thing.
Anyway, I digress. What I'm getting at with the whole death-in-the-skies and bad Catholic thing is this: my Catholic upbringing (and it wasn't really religious at all, with the exception of religion class and making your fucking Communion and so on) has put the fear of God into me with regards to death without a clear conscience. Basically, I'm afraid that I'll die not having repented my sinful ways and that God will use that as an excuse to keep me out of the promised land. And I'm determined not to give that cunt any excuse to do so.
However, I'm between a rock and a hard place. I'm currently traveling, and as such have to catch many flights on my way. Thus, it's more-than-likely that I will die in a Boeing-manufactured fireball within the next few months. And I will not have had time to go to confession and thus enact the loophole that is divine forgiveness.
Now, far be it for me to say that the church is behind the times, but surely in the day and age of cyberspace and Web 2.0 (or 3.0, or whatever-the-fuck it's supposed to be now) they'd have set up some sort of an interactive website that you can simply upload your sins and get a receipt giving you the all clear? They could even have further Facebook and iPhone applications providing a similar service.
Now, getting real for a minute - I know it's fairly un-fucking-likely that the whole Catholic conception of heaven and hell and God and St-Peter-pricking-around-at-the-gate-like-some-divine-concierge thing is actually true.
However, I suppose there's a slight chance that anything can happen (for example, there's a slight chance that I will discover that I have a Rubik's cube growing out of my back, however unlikely that is), and thus it's a possibility that the entire Catholic thing is on the fucking button! How scary is that! That bad-assed mofo God who likes asking people to sacrifice their kids, who thinks nothing of killing off the entire population of the fucking world, save one boat, and who basically likes to put on his shit-kickers and kick some shit... actually exists!
So, you die and you don't know what's going to happen. And then... you arrive at the pearly gates! You're thinking, "what the fuck?", when over marches St Peter with a smug look on his face and says, "I know what you're thinking - you thought it was all bollox, didn't you? Bet you wish you hadn't talked your girlfriend into anal now!".
And, having been raised to know that all your sins are in some fucking book that this cunt has in his possession, you start sweating like middle-eastern in JFK International. It's like you're 17 again and trying to get into that nightclub with the fake ID, you just know that he's gona stop you out of everyone! And you're right! Cause the fucker has this mischievous look in his eye when you get up, like he's been fast-tracking the rest - "Mr Wayne Gacy, go on through... Himmler, nice to see you... Hindley, catch you for a drink later, girl!" - just so he can get to you and sew it the fuck in.
And then you sneak a look at the book and it's broken down into categories. First one: swear words. 'Thank fuck', you think, 'this'll last a while'.
All I can say is that, despite the fact I think he's a boring, smug, self-opinionated (I can talk!), tantrum-throwing man-child, I'm sincerely rooting for Richard Dawkins to be right on this. I pray to God that he is.
Don't go to church. Never pray. Break a good majority of the commandments. Am quite often uncharitable and just plain unchristian. But, nonetheless, would still consider it bad form if God stopped me getting into heaven. After all, I am Irish - and sure didn't we pretty much invent the religion?
Also, like most people - not just Irish people - I know for a fact that I am going to die in plane crash. This is the most likely way for anybody to die, followed by a close-second 'natural causes'.
Now, I'm not uncomfortable with this - I've accepted my fate. And in fact I've figured out a way to stop a plane from crashing... even if you're not flying it. You simply squeeze the armrests really hard during any turbulence and, naturally enough, this stops anything bad happening as the plane won't crash while someone is holding on to a part of it so steadfastly. It's a science thing.
Anyway, I digress. What I'm getting at with the whole death-in-the-skies and bad Catholic thing is this: my Catholic upbringing (and it wasn't really religious at all, with the exception of religion class and making your fucking Communion and so on) has put the fear of God into me with regards to death without a clear conscience. Basically, I'm afraid that I'll die not having repented my sinful ways and that God will use that as an excuse to keep me out of the promised land. And I'm determined not to give that cunt any excuse to do so.
However, I'm between a rock and a hard place. I'm currently traveling, and as such have to catch many flights on my way. Thus, it's more-than-likely that I will die in a Boeing-manufactured fireball within the next few months. And I will not have had time to go to confession and thus enact the loophole that is divine forgiveness.
Now, far be it for me to say that the church is behind the times, but surely in the day and age of cyberspace and Web 2.0 (or 3.0, or whatever-the-fuck it's supposed to be now) they'd have set up some sort of an interactive website that you can simply upload your sins and get a receipt giving you the all clear? They could even have further Facebook and iPhone applications providing a similar service.
Now, getting real for a minute - I know it's fairly un-fucking-likely that the whole Catholic conception of heaven and hell and God and St-Peter-pricking-around-at-the-gate-like-some-divine-concierge thing is actually true.
However, I suppose there's a slight chance that anything can happen (for example, there's a slight chance that I will discover that I have a Rubik's cube growing out of my back, however unlikely that is), and thus it's a possibility that the entire Catholic thing is on the fucking button! How scary is that! That bad-assed mofo God who likes asking people to sacrifice their kids, who thinks nothing of killing off the entire population of the fucking world, save one boat, and who basically likes to put on his shit-kickers and kick some shit... actually exists!
So, you die and you don't know what's going to happen. And then... you arrive at the pearly gates! You're thinking, "what the fuck?", when over marches St Peter with a smug look on his face and says, "I know what you're thinking - you thought it was all bollox, didn't you? Bet you wish you hadn't talked your girlfriend into anal now!".
And, having been raised to know that all your sins are in some fucking book that this cunt has in his possession, you start sweating like middle-eastern in JFK International. It's like you're 17 again and trying to get into that nightclub with the fake ID, you just know that he's gona stop you out of everyone! And you're right! Cause the fucker has this mischievous look in his eye when you get up, like he's been fast-tracking the rest - "Mr Wayne Gacy, go on through... Himmler, nice to see you... Hindley, catch you for a drink later, girl!" - just so he can get to you and sew it the fuck in.
And then you sneak a look at the book and it's broken down into categories. First one: swear words. 'Thank fuck', you think, 'this'll last a while'.
All I can say is that, despite the fact I think he's a boring, smug, self-opinionated (I can talk!), tantrum-throwing man-child, I'm sincerely rooting for Richard Dawkins to be right on this. I pray to God that he is.
Friday 23 January 2009
There is no spoon? No, there is - and you're it.
Seriously, how the fuck does Keanu Reeves' still have an acting career?
I went to see his latest flick, The Day The Earth Stood Still, a couple weeks ago. It was - and, to be fair, I pretty much expected it to be - shit. Plain and simple. No, "oh, the effects were mind-blowing" or any of that bollox. I really don't care for special effects. I'm older than 10. I want a good, well -paced, -directed, and -acted yarn. And yes, you can get these attributes from a sci-fi movie (see: Twelve Monkeys, Donnie Darko, among many others).
It's your basic aliens-come-to-earth-and-we-ponder-are-they-good-?-are-they-bad-?-while-the-aliens-sharpen-their-knives plot. And Keanu is a fairly one-dimensional, emotionless, robot-like alien. In the movie, I mean.
Anyway, my main bone of contention with Mr. Reeves (apart from the fact that he has an entire career based on one mega-successful movie franchise) is that - and this is not in any way groundbreaking, I'm sure this has crossed everyones mind at some stage - he has only one acting style. Neo is John Constantine is Ted "Theodore" Logan is Klaatu (this film).
Ok, you may say - fair enough, he has one acting style. Yeah, I agree. But... if I had only one acting style (I have none), I would try my very best to pick movies that had the potential to be good, regardless of my presence.
The Day The Earth Stood Still would not have been good if Jesus himself had've directed it. I can say that with great certainty. So, does this mean that along with being a one-dimensional actor, Keanu is also a terrible judge of potential projects? If so, is this not the most amazing acting career that has ever arisen - very little talent for either acting OR choosing projects? This leads me to the question: if I, or you, or any single person you know, had've been cast as Neo in The Matrix would we be a big a star as him right now? I can only assume the answer is 'yes'.
I went to see his latest flick, The Day The Earth Stood Still, a couple weeks ago. It was - and, to be fair, I pretty much expected it to be - shit. Plain and simple. No, "oh, the effects were mind-blowing" or any of that bollox. I really don't care for special effects. I'm older than 10. I want a good, well -paced, -directed, and -acted yarn. And yes, you can get these attributes from a sci-fi movie (see: Twelve Monkeys, Donnie Darko, among many others).
It's your basic aliens-come-to-earth-and-we-ponder-are-they-good-?-are-they-bad-?-while-the-aliens-sharpen-their-knives plot. And Keanu is a fairly one-dimensional, emotionless, robot-like alien. In the movie, I mean.
Anyway, my main bone of contention with Mr. Reeves (apart from the fact that he has an entire career based on one mega-successful movie franchise) is that - and this is not in any way groundbreaking, I'm sure this has crossed everyones mind at some stage - he has only one acting style. Neo is John Constantine is Ted "Theodore" Logan is Klaatu (this film).
Ok, you may say - fair enough, he has one acting style. Yeah, I agree. But... if I had only one acting style (I have none), I would try my very best to pick movies that had the potential to be good, regardless of my presence.
The Day The Earth Stood Still would not have been good if Jesus himself had've directed it. I can say that with great certainty. So, does this mean that along with being a one-dimensional actor, Keanu is also a terrible judge of potential projects? If so, is this not the most amazing acting career that has ever arisen - very little talent for either acting OR choosing projects? This leads me to the question: if I, or you, or any single person you know, had've been cast as Neo in The Matrix would we be a big a star as him right now? I can only assume the answer is 'yes'.
Yeah, but do we really give a shit?
Well, the Oscar nominations have been announced. I generally don't watch it, since it bores me to tears. Regardless, it's great to see some genuinely good nominations. I'd be very fucking surprised if they win, but sure that's the way it goes!
Firstly, great to see Ireland getting the nod with both In Bruges (Writing - Original Screenplay) and New Boy (Short Film - Live Action). I haven't seen the latter, but I really enjoyed the first.
I presume the betting is already closed on Sean Penn getting Best Actor for Milk. Haven't seen that either, but I have seen Frost/Nixon, and I think that Frank Langella did a phenomenal job portraying Tricky Dick.
Mickey Rourke's Lazarus-like resurrection continues and he's been nominated for The Wrestler. Again (Jesus, I'm fucking brutal at this - how have I gone to the cinema so much and missed so many of these flicks?!), I haven't seen it, but I heard he's only savage in it. Doubt they'll give him the win though, cause he'd probs get up on stage and tell the audience how they're a bunch of shallow, vacuous cunts. In an ideal world, wha'?!
Brad Pitt doesn't deserve one for Curious Case as the part could've been played by anyone with a pulse (and a few without). Anyway, enough shitein on - it's Penn.
Best Supporting Actor: Heath Ledger. Even if Robert Downey Jnr had've brought peace to the Middle East he wouldn't get the award, simply - and you know it's true - because Ledger's dead. To be quite honest, he actually does deserve it - stole the show in The Dark Knight. I still haven't got the hang of the 'disappearing pencil' trick, and my social circle is getting smaller by the attempt.
Best Supporting Actress: I couldn't really give a shit. That's code for "I haven't seen any of the movies involving the Best Actress nominees"!! It woulda been deadly if Jane Lynch got one for Role Models though!!
Hope to fuck Slumdog Millionaire wins for both Best Picture and Best Director. It's nominated for so many categories that it can't lose I suppose. But honestly, if you're in with a shout for Best Picture and Best Director you wouldn't really give a fuck about Sound Editing.
Curious Case doesn't deserve a nomination for anything outside of Make Up or Special Effects, so why it got nominated for both the top two categories is beyond me. Frost/Nixon won't win them. Just won't.
I think - regardless of not having seen it - that Milk might because The Academy loves that whole rise-up-against-the-odds narrative with a passion; and Milk, from what I've read, conforms to it more than Slumdog.
Firstly, great to see Ireland getting the nod with both In Bruges (Writing - Original Screenplay) and New Boy (Short Film - Live Action). I haven't seen the latter, but I really enjoyed the first.
I presume the betting is already closed on Sean Penn getting Best Actor for Milk. Haven't seen that either, but I have seen Frost/Nixon, and I think that Frank Langella did a phenomenal job portraying Tricky Dick.
Mickey Rourke's Lazarus-like resurrection continues and he's been nominated for The Wrestler. Again (Jesus, I'm fucking brutal at this - how have I gone to the cinema so much and missed so many of these flicks?!), I haven't seen it, but I heard he's only savage in it. Doubt they'll give him the win though, cause he'd probs get up on stage and tell the audience how they're a bunch of shallow, vacuous cunts. In an ideal world, wha'?!
Brad Pitt doesn't deserve one for Curious Case as the part could've been played by anyone with a pulse (and a few without). Anyway, enough shitein on - it's Penn.
Best Supporting Actor: Heath Ledger. Even if Robert Downey Jnr had've brought peace to the Middle East he wouldn't get the award, simply - and you know it's true - because Ledger's dead. To be quite honest, he actually does deserve it - stole the show in The Dark Knight. I still haven't got the hang of the 'disappearing pencil' trick, and my social circle is getting smaller by the attempt.
Best Supporting Actress: I couldn't really give a shit. That's code for "I haven't seen any of the movies involving the Best Actress nominees"!! It woulda been deadly if Jane Lynch got one for Role Models though!!
Hope to fuck Slumdog Millionaire wins for both Best Picture and Best Director. It's nominated for so many categories that it can't lose I suppose. But honestly, if you're in with a shout for Best Picture and Best Director you wouldn't really give a fuck about Sound Editing.
Curious Case doesn't deserve a nomination for anything outside of Make Up or Special Effects, so why it got nominated for both the top two categories is beyond me. Frost/Nixon won't win them. Just won't.
I think - regardless of not having seen it - that Milk might because The Academy loves that whole rise-up-against-the-odds narrative with a passion; and Milk, from what I've read, conforms to it more than Slumdog.
Thursday 22 January 2009
# Last night a BK saved my life #
God Bless Globalisation!
There, I said it. Never did I think I would. All those years of idealism, thinking that Coca Cola are the Antichrist (well, that one probably still holds up) and that the free market is destroying indigenous cultures (again, this is most likely true - my argument is starting to break down before I've even made my point), have been usurped by one realisation: I would've starved to fucking death if there was no Mickey D's or BK Lounge in Tokyo.
Like pretty much every person in the western world, I thought that Che Guevara was the shit. He shot people for a cause he believed in, represented peoples devoid of true representation, and - most importantly - had a really cool poster that fit nicely between The Persistence of Memory and Jim Morrison on your bedroom wall.
That single iconic image of El Che (created by a guy from Skerries of all places!) led me to read The Communist Manifesto (well, the Wikipedia page on it at any rate) and think that socialism was the true path that civilisation must take in order to prosper, and that capitalism and the global free market was a Leviathan-like evil come to take advantage of, and expose, our true nature: one of greed and selfishness.
However, like most people, I grew tired of communist talk of rising up and revolting when I realised that the Proletariat of Ireland would stay home from the revolution if RTE commissioned another new - and predictably disastrous - comedy series. This does not mean, though, that I abandoned my socialist bent entirely. I still voted Socialist (for what it a) means, and b) is worth) and held some strong opinions regarding capitalism and its agents around the world - esp. with regards to more marginalised people (of course, according to a number of Irish people - mainly the ones with "tiochfaidh ar la" tattoos - the Irish were, and still remain, the most oppressed people on the planet).
I can now say that this is no longer the case. I'm sitting here munching away on my Fillet-O-Fish and miserly-sized cup of tea (I was too late for breakfast! Maybe socialism is the way!) and I can no longer keep up the charade: the free market works! And it works spectacularly!
Now, don't get me wrong. I know you can't extrapolate from isolated instances to the greater world. But fuck it, that's what I'm gona do. I like that I can get a Big Mac in almost every country in the world, because when it comes down to it - and, like I hinted before, maybe we are an ultimately selfish species - I would rather eat a nice burger than be fucking around trying to figure out what the animal pictured outside on the restaurant menu is supposed to be (unicorn, perhaps?).
Just as a matter of clarity: I do eat a range of foods, sushi included. However, sushi (and, to be quite frank, every other purchasable item!) in Tokyo is not cheap. There is no equivalent of the Euro-Saver Menu. Thus, cheap-assed (but nonetheless delicious) chain restaurants featuring cartoon characters as PR men become, by default, your staple food.
There, I said it. Never did I think I would. All those years of idealism, thinking that Coca Cola are the Antichrist (well, that one probably still holds up) and that the free market is destroying indigenous cultures (again, this is most likely true - my argument is starting to break down before I've even made my point), have been usurped by one realisation: I would've starved to fucking death if there was no Mickey D's or BK Lounge in Tokyo.
Like pretty much every person in the western world, I thought that Che Guevara was the shit. He shot people for a cause he believed in, represented peoples devoid of true representation, and - most importantly - had a really cool poster that fit nicely between The Persistence of Memory and Jim Morrison on your bedroom wall.
That single iconic image of El Che (created by a guy from Skerries of all places!) led me to read The Communist Manifesto (well, the Wikipedia page on it at any rate) and think that socialism was the true path that civilisation must take in order to prosper, and that capitalism and the global free market was a Leviathan-like evil come to take advantage of, and expose, our true nature: one of greed and selfishness.
However, like most people, I grew tired of communist talk of rising up and revolting when I realised that the Proletariat of Ireland would stay home from the revolution if RTE commissioned another new - and predictably disastrous - comedy series. This does not mean, though, that I abandoned my socialist bent entirely. I still voted Socialist (for what it a) means, and b) is worth) and held some strong opinions regarding capitalism and its agents around the world - esp. with regards to more marginalised people (of course, according to a number of Irish people - mainly the ones with "tiochfaidh ar la" tattoos - the Irish were, and still remain, the most oppressed people on the planet).
I can now say that this is no longer the case. I'm sitting here munching away on my Fillet-O-Fish and miserly-sized cup of tea (I was too late for breakfast! Maybe socialism is the way!) and I can no longer keep up the charade: the free market works! And it works spectacularly!
Now, don't get me wrong. I know you can't extrapolate from isolated instances to the greater world. But fuck it, that's what I'm gona do. I like that I can get a Big Mac in almost every country in the world, because when it comes down to it - and, like I hinted before, maybe we are an ultimately selfish species - I would rather eat a nice burger than be fucking around trying to figure out what the animal pictured outside on the restaurant menu is supposed to be (unicorn, perhaps?).
Just as a matter of clarity: I do eat a range of foods, sushi included. However, sushi (and, to be quite frank, every other purchasable item!) in Tokyo is not cheap. There is no equivalent of the Euro-Saver Menu. Thus, cheap-assed (but nonetheless delicious) chain restaurants featuring cartoon characters as PR men become, by default, your staple food.
Tuesday 13 January 2009
t-h or not t-h
Well, having spent 5 months living in a large North-American city, I've noticed a few simple truths about being Irish. Number 1 is that nobody - absolutely nobody - can understand a fucking word we are saying. Their main bone of contention is that we speak too fast. Of course, as I mentioned to one girl, maybe they listen too slow. The other problem is: slang. Irish slang. As complex and diverse as any other language proper on the planet.
I personally started seeing a local girl while living in the city and had to, after many weeks of confused looks on her part, link to a website listing the over-200 slang words that we (the Oirish!) take for granted. Queue endless queries of "what's a chancer?", "what's a bollox?", and "so, a chancer, bollox, and blagard are all the same, right?". Eh... no, not quite. But sometimes, baby, sometimes. It's something akin to how people always maintain that Eskimos have over a hundred words for snow. The Irish have over a hundred words for "likable cunt that you just can't trust".
Regarding the title of this post though - I have started to feel a little bit treacherous towards my homeland while travelling. My realisation centres on my new found ability to pronounce the letters "t" and "h" in conjunction!
Of course, coming from Ireland - and tons has been written about this in blogs on Irish slang - almost all of us say "tree" as opposed to "three", "trive" as oppose to "thrive" (cause we couldn't get by without thrive!). However... I didn't realise that social pressure - or, to be exact, foreign social pressure - would exert such an influence over me that I would start to pronounce words as they actually appear! Tired of the non-Irish's inability to make the dramatic associative leap from "tree o'clock" to "three o'clock", I've found myself over the last month or two saying the "h" after the "t" in many words simply to avoid their confusing looks!
Yesterday, after not meeting a single fellow-countryman for a month, I finally ended up talking to a guy from Mayo. Nothing major there. But that conversation ended up inspiring this post: I had to re-correct myself to leave out the h! This moment was like finding out that Bruce Willis was a ghost. I'm serious, I was stunned. Before then, the notion that I was starting to pronounce "th" effectively was just a nagging in the back of my mind. Now... here it was in all it's glory - come to mock me.
Now, I'm not exactly fluent yet - that is, I'm still conscious that I'm pronouncing the h - but it is starting to grab hold, and I find myself auto-correcting (apologies, auto-incorrecting - after all, we speak properly, they're wrong) more and more. And as I still have three (see, I even wrote it with the h) months of travelling left, it's only a matter of time before I drift over to the dark side. While I'm sure that this is reversible, and that once home I will soon drop that unnecessary h, the slagging that my friends will give me is not! For I will forever be known as "snobby hole", or something to that effect.
I personally started seeing a local girl while living in the city and had to, after many weeks of confused looks on her part, link to a website listing the over-200 slang words that we (the Oirish!) take for granted. Queue endless queries of "what's a chancer?", "what's a bollox?", and "so, a chancer, bollox, and blagard are all the same, right?". Eh... no, not quite. But sometimes, baby, sometimes. It's something akin to how people always maintain that Eskimos have over a hundred words for snow. The Irish have over a hundred words for "likable cunt that you just can't trust".
Regarding the title of this post though - I have started to feel a little bit treacherous towards my homeland while travelling. My realisation centres on my new found ability to pronounce the letters "t" and "h" in conjunction!
Of course, coming from Ireland - and tons has been written about this in blogs on Irish slang - almost all of us say "tree" as opposed to "three", "trive" as oppose to "thrive" (cause we couldn't get by without thrive!). However... I didn't realise that social pressure - or, to be exact, foreign social pressure - would exert such an influence over me that I would start to pronounce words as they actually appear! Tired of the non-Irish's inability to make the dramatic associative leap from "tree o'clock" to "three o'clock", I've found myself over the last month or two saying the "h" after the "t" in many words simply to avoid their confusing looks!
Yesterday, after not meeting a single fellow-countryman for a month, I finally ended up talking to a guy from Mayo. Nothing major there. But that conversation ended up inspiring this post: I had to re-correct myself to leave out the h! This moment was like finding out that Bruce Willis was a ghost. I'm serious, I was stunned. Before then, the notion that I was starting to pronounce "th" effectively was just a nagging in the back of my mind. Now... here it was in all it's glory - come to mock me.
Now, I'm not exactly fluent yet - that is, I'm still conscious that I'm pronouncing the h - but it is starting to grab hold, and I find myself auto-correcting (apologies, auto-incorrecting - after all, we speak properly, they're wrong) more and more. And as I still have three (see, I even wrote it with the h) months of travelling left, it's only a matter of time before I drift over to the dark side. While I'm sure that this is reversible, and that once home I will soon drop that unnecessary h, the slagging that my friends will give me is not! For I will forever be known as "snobby hole", or something to that effect.
His Majesty's First Post...
Greetings, Loyal Subjects!
This is my first post! Plus I've had a coupla cans, so after a lifetime of self-indulgent shite-talk my mind is a blank! Let's hear it for irony!
This here blog is one of those "has no specific aim or mandate" blogs! Yes, the digital equivalent of vanity publishing and the very kind that people start and never again post to!! However, despite my fickle nature, I promise to update this blog with riveting and interesting content every.......... ah fuck it, this is hard work already.
I will post general shite that I have either personally experienced or found interesting! That pretty much takes into account every sphere of human experience, so I didn't really narrow the field of what I'll go on (and you'll find that 'going on' is an apt description) about. Regardless, I think that you get the gist of what I'm saying - I basically going to be a blog-whore: posting anything and everything, from holiday snaps (which must be the Cardinal Sin of blogging), to how I just can't seem to form a coherent opinion on abortion, via my hatred of people confusing "they're", "their", and "there"!
So... that's about that! First post, over and out!
This is my first post! Plus I've had a coupla cans, so after a lifetime of self-indulgent shite-talk my mind is a blank! Let's hear it for irony!
This here blog is one of those "has no specific aim or mandate" blogs! Yes, the digital equivalent of vanity publishing and the very kind that people start and never again post to!! However, despite my fickle nature, I promise to update this blog with riveting and interesting content every.......... ah fuck it, this is hard work already.
I will post general shite that I have either personally experienced or found interesting! That pretty much takes into account every sphere of human experience, so I didn't really narrow the field of what I'll go on (and you'll find that 'going on' is an apt description) about. Regardless, I think that you get the gist of what I'm saying - I basically going to be a blog-whore: posting anything and everything, from holiday snaps (which must be the Cardinal Sin of blogging), to how I just can't seem to form a coherent opinion on abortion, via my hatred of people confusing "they're", "their", and "there"!
So... that's about that! First post, over and out!
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