| hmm |
[Sep. 15th, 2005|07:06 pm] |
i think it's a safe assumption to say that everybody's given up by now on there ever being anything else on this damn thing and has stopped checking it.
i'll see if there are any comments in like the next week. |
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| Greetings From Alaska: The Uninhabitable State |
[Mar. 12th, 2005|04:03 pm] |
Sooooo I've been here for a week, and I'm going to leave tonight. After I go through the de-acclimation program that they have set up at the airport to dethaw your bones, return your blood to a normal consistency, and return your heartbeat to above 15 beats per minute so you can function in a normal climate.
Here i have some pictures.
I thought this was pretty funny.
This too.
I saw this bear sleeping outside someone's house.
This was near some park or trail.. or something. The mountains are the redeeming grace of Anchorage, which sits cradled by the mountains and the ocean, and without those just kinda looks like some crappy town.
These are the mountains in which Hilary dwells. Below the surface. Where it's warm enough to sustain life.
This is the coastal trail of Anchorage. If you walk close to the shore you get sucked in by the mud flats and die. The police won't even try to rescue you. We watched it happen to a guy while we were there. Everybody was just really solemn about it. "He has made his choice to return to the cold bosom of the earth," I heard a native say.
We went and saw Don Giovanni: The Puppet Show. Alaskan performing arts at their finest. (This will be augmented by a video when I get back.)
EDIT: VIDEO KILLED THE RADIO STAR
But Spring Break didn't end there, oh me brothers. After my flight leaving Anchorage was 2 hours late and I missed my flight out of Phoenix, I got to spend the night with:
Nick took me to his house, where I got to see my absolute favorite member of the Brakafrasky household:
In a rockso-sockso coincidence, the night I was forced to stay was the same night Helyn was getting in to visit Nick over spring break. We decided to play a trick on her: so where she was supposed to meet Nick in the terminal, I got up into the ceiling and dressed myself completely in black commando gear, then when I got her in my sights I rappelled down, grabbed her by the hair, and zipped back up into the ceiling.
Then, as we were leaving the terminal to go to Nick's car, Nick stopped, turned around and said "Was that Mayor Giuliani back there?" "Don't fuck with me on this," I admonished Nick. If I found out he was just shitting on my dream again, I told him, I wouldn't forgive him. I turned back, because even as much as I was dreading having to have a full-out fist fight with Nick right in the middle of the airport parking lot after suffering the most severe disappoinment of my life, I couldn't live with the possibility that he had been telling the truth. I went back to the terminal sidewalk, and THERE HE WAS. Rudolph Giuliani. Helyn tried coverty to take some pictures, but this is the best we got with my shitty camera:
This is about the clearest I could get his face:
Here's a picture of him in similar attire, just to lend me a little more credibility.
And that's the last time I'll ever use my live journal to talk about what's happened in my life. |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 12th, 2005|07:21 pm] |
Well, it's nearing the anniversay of the first time I saw Max Magician and the Legend of the Rings. I'm not sure how many people actually got to read the entire history of my interaction with Greg Coale, the acclaimed star (Tom Tit Tot) of Max Magician. In that it represents my first and only contact with a true celebrity, and because Mr. Coale's genius has transcended geographical boundaries and become part of my own being, I think it's important that everyone is aware of this. So, I'll include it all below, starting with the review I wrote on IMDB.
IMDB REVIEW - 15 FEBRUARY 2004
Max Magician and the Legend of the Rings is the most fantastic movie I've ever seen, for a number of reasons. Most importantly, the cast, crew, director, make-up "artists", cinematographers all take the movie in complete seriousness. This is remarkable considering the abysmal quality of the line delivery, horrible costumes, EXCEEDINGLY AWFUL script, and absolute lack of skill and knowledge of the craft of film on the part of everyone involved. All these factors combined, however, makes this film a masterpiece of late-night heckling material. My friends and I bought this for $5.50 at the Wal-Mart Bargain Bin, and the investment more than paid off in side-splitting laughs of disbelief.
Max Magician is a middle-class suburban kid with no friends, but a penchant for the magical arts. He has a creepy pedophile neighbor, Mr. Tim, who at one time was a great wizard (apparently) and gives young Max guidance to "achieve his destiny." He gives Max a poorly-constructed "magic book" which allows him entry into the fantastical world of Bluebell Forest. Max is the "savior" of the village that is being tyrannized by Lord Dadga (the worst actor in the history of cinema). He meets all sorts of ridiculous characters, who deliver absurd dialogue with no knowledge of delivery. At the end he saves the village by using his magic book to summon knights out of the ground.
It's necessary to reiterate that there is not a single saving grace in this film except for the (highly unintentional) comedic implications. Every solitary aspect is done with the least skill and least amount of cinematic expertise possible. The script skips from scene to scene, introduces new "plot elements" which had never been alluded to and are now apparently crucial to the "story". The dialogue is cliched and nonsensical. The characterization is ungodly predictable where not non-existent. The characters take long, painful pauses between lines. The entire soundtrack was redubbed and the dialogue very seldom matches up with the mouths moving. The props are pathetic (the "propmaster" on the "behind the scenes" feature shows a battle hammer which was made from a foam swimming toy.) Occasionally we see extras walking around in the background. The foley work is perhaps the funniest part of the movie, as sometimes the background sound of birds will cut out altogether, voices will cut out in the middle of lines, and giant "swooshes" are used for characters getting out of chairs -- the same sound over and over again.
Which brings us to the acting. There is not a single actor with previous experience (except Tom Tit Tot, who is still one of the worst) and it shows more than you would think possible. Of course they get no help from the script, but this is the single worst ensemble of amateur actors ever put together. I can honestly say that with very little doubt. For this reason alone it's probably worth investing in to appreciate just how bad something can be. Only buy Max Magician, even for $5, if you want to truly understand the meaning of "awful" and wish to have many a laugh at the film's expense. If you buy this to entertain your children you may taint their appreciation of art and cinema from a young age. No young person deserves that.
PRIVATE MESSAGE FROM MRGRTAZ2 ON IMDB, 7 APRIL 2004
Hi There
Your review is really quite well written & funny &. I really appreciate you taking the time to write.
I played the character of Tom Tit Tot.
You said I was one of the worst actors.
"There is not a single actor with previous experience (except Tom Tit Tot, who is still one of the worst) and it shows more than you would think possible."
I don't mind criticism and would help me an actor if you would constructively point out the things that you think I could improve upon.
Also, there were quite a few actors in this film who have extensive stage experience and some with quite a bit of TV & Movie experience, I myself included.
If you want to see if I can really act or not, pick up a copy of "Serial Mom". I have several featured shots with the stars in the church scene.
Thanks again,
Greg Coale
PRIVATE MESSAGE SENT TO GREG COALE ON IMDB, 13 APRIL 2004
Mr. Coale
First of all, let me say that it was an honor for my friends and I to receive a message from you. As many times as we have watched Max Magician, to hear from a cast member was beyond expectation. However, I won't hedge around the point here; my friends and I loved Max Magician because it was exceedingly awful. I'm sure you discerned that from my review, and I hope I can say that without offending you. If you really want to hear it, I would be glad to offer you my own insight on the choices you made in your role. (Understand that Max Magician's failure certainly wasn't your fault alone, or even yours primarily. I said your performance was "one of the worst", not "THE worst." There is a two-way tie for that title between Mr. Mitzkovitz and Mr. Danaceau. The movie's failure was an entirely collaborative one.) I will have to watch the movie again for specific sources of criticism; however, I can offer my own broad take on your performance: characterization, delivery, etc.
If it helps, your character was perhaps the only one in the film which didn't evoke outbursts of undesired laughter. It did get a few groans, to be perfectly honest, although this was mostly due to the terrible quality of your dialogue, which was written at a level even below most of the rest of the film, if that's possible. The fact that you had to speak in rhyme which was most often completely nonsensical significantly hampered your perfomance, I'm sure. However, I still didn't feel that your cadence and voice work consistently suited the role. I am reminded of your opening scene in the film, when you ask internally, "What rhymes with magician?" If you go back and listen to the ADR, the inflection of that line doesn't even come across as a question. You put the emphasis on the syllables "rhy" and "gish," and the sentence comes across something like "What RHYMES with Ma-GISH-An?" This is just one example, but it struck me particularly as being unnatural and unbelievable.
At times, the physical work seemed rather uninvolved. Arms at side, dangling akward fake hands. The same frequently went for the facial work. As I'm sure you're aware, when you're hidden under as many layers of prosthetics as you were, you have to make up for the facial subtleties and singularities normally present with a certain level of "explanatory exaggeration," as it were. You were given the opportunity to portray a magical, nonhuman, fantastical creature. As such, your physicality was your greatest resource for characterization, and your failure to utilize it was perhaps your greatest weakness.
Mr. Coale, I respect highly your choice of acting as a career, and your commitment to your craft. I appreciate that a poorly-written, poorly-directed, poorly-conceived children's movie may not have been a great career move, though you have every right to be proud of it, and that given the circumstances (particularly the sub-professional editing, both sound and film), your ability to act might not have been given its due. I certainly intend to check out "Serial Mom." In turn, I'm sure you appreciate the communal effort between actors to contribute constructively to each other's endeavors and help each other improve. I wish you all the best of luck in the future, in your pursuit of success and greater opportunities. I hope you take my criticism in stride, and if there's any other insight I can give you, don't hesitate to ask.
Sincerely,
Russ Hull
(This message was forwarded to Greg Coale via e-mail on 12 Jan. 2005, with the following message introducing it:)
Dear Mr. Coale,
A few months ago, I received a message from you
relating to my review about Max Magician posted on
IMDB, specifically my comments about your acting. I
sent a reply some months ago but doubt you ever got
it. I remembered this message recently, and a google
search turned up your e-mail address (on the TANC's
page). Since your message was so important to me, I
thought I'd take this time to send you a copy of my
reply, which I've included below:
REPLY FROM GREG COALE, 22 JANUARY 2005:
Russ
Nimby Nimby Not!
Thanks!
I see you thought a lot about it and I appreciate your comments and
effort to get back to me.
I especiallyy appreciate the comments about acting with prosthetics.
I sort of agree with your comments about the rhyming. It didn't seem
natural to me either but I did what the director wanted. However,
since the character was other worldly, perhaps other viewwrs may not
have expected the emphathees to be on the expected syllables. This
may be why the director ok's what I did.
So you know, due to no fault of the director, the audio had to be
almost completely replaced after filming; not once but twice.
What is you and your friends background related to the entertainment
industry? How old are you? Have you acted before? Do you have a
degree in acting or film?
Anything other constructive criticism you have is welcome.
Do a google search on my name and you will see many citiques of my
acting and photos of me.
By the way, many of the actors in that film had lots of previous
experience, both on stage and film. Apparently, this film was not
the best career move for them.
Take care,
Greg Coale |
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| My fall from funny |
[Feb. 10th, 2005|08:07 pm] |
Friends, the regrettable day has come.
Despite a life spent in the active pursuit of attention through wit, hyperbolic observations, and moderately-amusing facial contortions, I find myself now in my most downtrodden and pathetic state. I have lost my ability to be funny. I am like a fish wriggling at the bottom of a nearly-dry well, gasping and suckling at the last remaining cracks and crevices full of stinking, stagnant water. My humor muscle has atrophied -- rendered nearly useless from a month of inactivity. There's simply no outlet for it, anymore, and so I've lost my grasp on it. (This very post should be a good enough example).
Somebody say something, snap me back out of it. Let's talk about ... sex with migrant laborers, or... why it's a shame Faulkner didn't win the Nobel prize for Beetle Bailey.
If you don't help me, if I'm forced to continue like this indefinitely, I'm just going to shack up with Sarah Moss and live a peaceful, contented (if not necessarily fulfilled) rest of my life. |
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| Why Kerry _actually_ won |
[Nov. 3rd, 2004|02:04 am] |
Because everybody's a little queer, according to Kinsey, and so you have to take into account that certain percentage of every Bush voter that really voted for Kerry because it wants to be able to marry - or at least form a civil union with - a tiny part of somebody else.
Because Ohio has too high a ratio of vowels-to-consonants to be actually considered a state. This requires throwing out Hawaii too, but that still puts things in Kerry's favor.
Because evangelical Christians are not people. They are in fact a rare species of fungus. Voting rights for fungi have yet to be affirmed.
Because John Kerry is both taller and the Redskins lost their last game. For John Kerry to lose would negate the principles of oddly recurrent coincidences upon which our very system of democracy is fundamentally based.
Because John Kerry puts an "r" at the ends of words that end in vowels. And that is fucking CUTE.
Old people live in Florida. Old people cannot drive. Old people cannot see. Old people cannot eat real food. Old people cannot walk. OLD PEOPLE CANNOT JUMP 2 FEET. Thus, old people = already dead. When old people (dead people) vote, they immediately commit election fraud.
Because .... SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK?! NO, I MEAN IT.
WHAT
THE
FUCK.
Because there is no God. When Bush cites God being on our side, he cites nothing. A president who cites a non-existent force as being his basis for decisions can never get re-elected. (That there is no God is proven by Bush being re-elected. This is a paradox. There can be no paradoxes in presidential elections. Thus Bush must not get re-elected to avoid this paradox.) |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 3rd, 2004|03:30 pm] |
A hearty apology to all of my loyal and eternally patient fans for having taken such a long and indulgent sabbatical from what is ultimately my providentially-described duty to supply you, the teeming masses starving for e-sustenance, with information, insight, and enlightenment, not only into my life, but into the global human condition. I trust all of you to understand that, with my recent dramatic change in lifestyle (I am now a member of the nation's third elite [an important but tragically underappreciated/underestimated class of citizens] -- the scholars), that certain responsibilities both to personal edification and to the edification of society, preclude attention to this, my favorite gift to you and burden of myself.
To recap. I now live in the nation's capital, a hustling, bustling mecca of national politics and assorted important goings-on. Amidst meetings with diplomats, appointments with presidents and foreign leaders, and interviews with chief correspondents, I have miraculously also found time to attend what you, the proletariat, deem "classes," but what i prefer to think of as symposia of scholarly betterment, conventions of the learned-but-not-yet-well-learned-enough, seeking to elevate their place in society, and, in the the grand reciprocal design of nature, society's place within itself. I enjoy greatly these daily submergences into the amassed wealth of human knowledge and explanation of our surroundings, as by furthering my understanding of our world, I am able to further my understanding of myself, and, importantly, my understanding of you, my loyal followers, so that I might better attune my communications to you (and I do intend for there to be more) and more accurately and comprehensibly convey to you the nuances of this world to which I, personally, play foil.
I miss greatly my daily, interpersonal interactions with all of you, which always seemed to affirm my humanity merely in my existence amongst you. Collectively, you so well embody the principle of "being"... and it has only been by coming to know you so well that I have become aware of this transcendence of personal identity into human identity. Not being nearly as familiar with anyone here (with, of course, the notable exception of my sole blood brother from what I now consider "home base" -- a center for research to which I submit my findings in this new frontier of human exploration), I find it very difficult to connect with humanity, and by proxy myself, as I am so accustomed to doing. Instead, I am like an outsider looking in (to borrow a vantage from Toole's quixotic hero). I am like a social scientist, conducting study after study upon subject after subject whom I seek briefly to understand, but only from a guarded, superficial perspective, for such a removal is critical to my cause. In short, I miss you.
Though I strive not to disappoint, I am forced to end our commiseration here, for the time being. Take comfort, though, in the connection we've forged. Remember the blood of mine that runs through your veins, the pulsing remnant of the bond we formed when we cut both of our hands upon the sharp, brawny knife of mutual understanding, and shook and embraced, promising each other, "No, I will never forget." I hold you now to that vow. Its constant reassurance is my most effective implement in helping me in the personal journey which I am embarked upon, for the sake of science, for the sake of myself, and for the sake of you. |
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| DISCLAIMER |
[Jul. 15th, 2004|12:15 am] |
Going long periods of time without updating one's electronic-diary, even -- correction, especially -- one deeply rooted in sarcasm and contempt for one's peers caught up in the wave of e-expression can cause one to forget one's purpose in undertaking such a project, and may turn one into a blubbering, philosophical theologan. Beware of sudden outbursts of unchecked seriousness, which may lead to dizziness, fatigue, and strife from ignorant members of the religious community. The latter potentiality should be avoided at all costs. If such strife is encountered, contact your sarcastic-ass friends immediately. They will help you put those self-important so-and-so's back in their place.
That place being at the forefront of american society and politics.
...
Avoid the strong urge to brutally end your life. |
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| Russ gets serious (please excuse) |
[Jun. 30th, 2004|01:42 am] |
Okay, so this isn't like me, especially not like my livejournal, but it's something i feel like sharing...
my derived theory on man's creation of god:
whenever i go through pain like that, something that's just beyond my control.. the kind of pain where you can hardly think about anything else (emotional as well as physical really), i just remember thinking "god if only somebody could just fix this for me. just make it better. it's out of my hands but i just need somebody to step in and take care of it for me". and maybe that just says something about my own strength of character.. but i think it says something about the human condition. there's just that need that kicks in... the need to be saved when you feel like you're totally helpless... you can almost feel like it's owed to you.. it's just what seems to arise out of the utmost despair.
and i think that tendency of our nature.. not just a desire but a need to feel like somebody will just make it right.. like it's our right to have that... i think it created somebody, or something, that has to answer to us. that will be there for us, infallibly, to heed those directiveless pleas for help.
and so in that way god can be an incredible source of strength, even if it's unfounded strength that relies on something that won't actually come to your aid, at least it's comforting........ and therein, for me, lies the very incredible power of religion |
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| today |
[May. 22nd, 2004|01:02 am] |
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this constitutes an update. such obligatory updates must be completed approximately every week to keep the fan base satisfied, and coming back to see your personal, secret thoughts. if there are no updates for too long, they will stop checking. this is important. if they don't keep coming back to see your personal, secret thoughts, nobody will ever get to know all about them, and the overt, public personal secrecy will be totally in vain. |
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| An ode to a friend reunited |
[May. 4th, 2004|11:11 pm] |
Hey buddy
It's been a long time
Since you went to college
Ten months approximately
I'm sure glad you're home
Now we'll get to hang out probably
I can't wait to do some stupid shit
And catch up on old times
How's everything going?
...Jesus-fucking-Christ I'm poetic. |
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| double circles in nature/society |
[May. 1st, 2004|07:05 pm] |
double circles, as a biological structure, or a stylistic element, are one of the most important motifs in the sphere of humanity.
examples:
breasts
butts
mastercard logo
words like lOOk, tOOk, and gOOk
two pies
time will only tell how important two circles really are, but the next time you're having two mugs of hot cocoa, think about it.
hard. |
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| note to self no. 2 |
[Apr. 30th, 2004|12:47 am] |
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ignore what you said in the last post. go to american instead. |
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| note to self |
[Apr. 29th, 2004|12:13 am] |
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just fucking go to ithaca and quit questioning it. you'll be happy there, you'll find plenty to do, you'll meet new people, and you'll live with the cold. people live in canada, and this is south of canada. |
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| Cause and effect no. 2 |
[Apr. 26th, 2004|08:33 pm] |
Have to let 150 kids look at your fat ass
Become anorexic
....Again.
You fat fuck. |
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| I wish I had a vagina |
[Apr. 19th, 2004|09:12 pm] |
Seriously ladies. You may or may not know how inconvenient a penis is, but you can probably guess. Imagine, if you can, a-whole-nother organ dangling between your legs, wedged on one side of your pants and at the constant mercy of your walking patterns. You see us adjusting all the time not cause we're gross but because it's fucking uncomfortable and it gets all twisted around and tied in knots. A vagina, on the other hand, is a self-lubricating, non-extruding crevice. It's so much more convenient and the clitoris has three times more nerve endings than the entire penis.
Although
You do bleed out of it every month and get all cranky.
I guess I'll stick with a shlong afterall. |
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| I hate EJournals |
[Apr. 14th, 2004|10:26 pm] |
It's just a personal sentiment. I guess I understand that all you people have to share all your most personal feelings with the rest of the world. I've never really understood it. Maybe it's because I'm too introverted. Maybe it's because I see no reason why anybody should have even the slightest bit of interest in shit that's trivial even to me. So I started this thing so I can share my personal feelings about EJournals for today:
I hate EJournals
I like irony. |
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