KjB

Go here. Try to ignore john travolta, and skip directly to the ‘finalists’ tab.

Amazing all that can happen in 5 seconds, isn’t it?

Query Letters

A blog devoted entirely to posting and poking fun of plot summaries submitted to one anoymous hollywood, um…exec? Script-reader? Not sure what this guy’s job title would be.

Anyway, read some of these and tell me that you can’t picture like 95% of these plots as the next mindless, multi-million-dollar budget blockbuster? I mean, for god’s sake, stranger, dumber movies have been made than “cuffs”, which, according to the site, is a ‘dark comedy involving a ghost prison guard.’ I mean, that’s really, really dumb, but remember ‘dude, where’s my car’? How about ‘ghost ship’?

Yeah.

So, the stuff synopsized on the site is either trite or badly written or bizarre, but isn’t that what most movies ARE?

I am the first to admit that i am opinionated. I tend to either totally embrace or completely malign one thing or another, and defend my position with black and white, cut and dry intensity. I might have inherited this from both of my fiery grandmothers, whose ideas and prejudices must be taken as gospel, thank-her-majesty-very-much. Or maybe, it all springs directly from the palm of my hand (i have a rather canyon-esque simian line running across my right palm).

Whatever the reason, the opinionated thing - much worse when i was younger.

Let’s look at some examples: For a while there, I refused to listen to music that wasn’t played exclusively on string-or-wind operated instruments. My reasoning: electronically generated music was somehow less authentic. If it was primarily synthesizer or drum machine, it was just wrong, and, alternately, not Led Zeppelin. I was 13. I wrote essays on this. This was a fabulous example.

Obviously, i don’t believe this any longer. Call it growing up. Call it the result of finding out that stereolab and massive attack are pretty wonderful as music goes, and that as much as i hated 80s tunes directly after that decade came to a close that i LOVE them now - whatever. I was wrong.

I was wrong about other things as well.

* Objectivism is not the be all and end all of philosophies. On a personal level, Ayn Rand was kind of a bitch—and regarding personal ideology, I suspect i can do better.
* Red food-coloring does not make food taste bitter. It is all in my head.
* Reading Shakespeare is not a complete waste of time. (Though, I still believe there are other things I would have rather been drilled and re-drilled on in lieu of yet ANOTHER reading of King Lear.)
* NPR is not boring, ultra-square white-collar propaganda. And classical music is actually complex and interesting and enjoyable in many situations. (But i still hate opera with a black rage i cannot contain.)
* Boy George does not say “comma comma comma chameleon” in that song.

But the biggest thing I was wrong about? The thought that learning about the past was tantamount to intellectual masturbation. Worthless re-hashing of things that were over and done. Why, my high-school and college-aged brain wondered, would I—or anyone—care, about the war of 1812 or what happened during the Nixon presidential debates? Old news. There was this internet thing happening and bands playing in garages and new kinds of liquor to try. I was just too damned busy.

So, as a result, i slept through every government and history class I ever took. And I actually cheated on my western civilization exams freshman year of college. They were essays. A pretty tedious spitting back of random dates and historical tidbits - which I scrawled microscopically all over my palms. I have a nearly photographic memory and a great capacity to remember large quantities of random facts for short, necessary periods…so I slipped through the cracks and know basically nothing now.

Back then, had very little reverence for anything older than maybe 10-15 minutes. I was young, and tired of reading nothing but dead white men’s novels and hearing about how dead, white men changed the world.

But, boy was I wrong.

Here’s how I figured that out: I am now history retarded, and it leaves me at a disadvantage - in conversation, in trivial pursuit games (someone…dan…actually BEAT me this summer), and at my job. My lack of historical knowledge leaves me feeling kind of rudderless. Lost and intellectually homeless. Like my head looks all full and I sound all smart…but really, there isn’t anything in there but reruns of real-crime dramas and pink floyd lyrics supplemented with a vocabulary wide enough to make it sound like I know what i’m talking about a fair bit of the time.

But I suspect I’m not fooling anyone. People can see right through all those knowledge-less holes in my head, right now. And, even though the possession of knowlege isn’t a competition, I still HATE losing. (hate hate hate.) So - i’ve decided that i have to get edumacated. On history. Dead white men’s accomplishments and all.

So, I bought this book, a kind of american history for those who cannot concentrate on a story unless it has a definitive narrative (i.e. me…if it doesn’t have plot, i won’t get too far.) I’m going to start reading it tonight. Add it to the queue that already contains Geoffrey Eugenidies and Saramago and Dave Eggers.

Will I make it? I don’t know. The other books are calling my name every, every minute with their character-driven plots and challenging grammar and self-righteous banter. Can history keep up?

We’ll see. Maybe i’ll learn somethin.

how you charm me.

First, this.“Canada Reads”. All the books look well chosen. Different. And they’re going to vote one off the frozen tundra very soon - so that rocks. Suspense.

Also, for god’s sake, this.CBC radio 3. An incredible site and an incredible idea. Good writing, music, pefect presentation. Like so many things lately, where was my motivation, my ever-loving get up and go, when I thought about building something like a couple of years ago?! Oh yeah. Glued to the couch, glaze-eyed, watching Law and Order. Heh.

Fitzgerald’s Casino. Reno, NV.

Ah, you’ve gotta love the Irish. And as Dan teaches us in this picture, they apparently like each other a fair bit as well.

Happy birthday, Dan. May your 26th year be swell, and involve a respectable amount of tongue.