I am relatively excited about this years Summer Olympics. I think it highlights a lot of great things for our global community, and reminds everyone in the world, even if only for a moment or two, that we're all in this together.
Not only do I enjoy that the Olympics bring about this universal awareness of each other, but I enjoy the progression of the games as well. The opening ceremonies were gorgeous, and I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to watch the first 20 minutes. BUT, with the wonder that is the world wide web, not only can I catch recaps and highlights of the ceremony, but I can, at any given moment, log into the 2008 Bejing Olympics homepage and watch an event going on, streaming live, free of charge (right now I'm watching women's soccer, Japan vs. US - earlier it was men's badminton and women's Judo) But events that I never cared about (interestingly enough, all the one's that got crap coverage on the t.v. stations) are now pumped with a new life, because it's given it's own moment in the sun via internet. Just fun, fun stuff.
The games really are a wonderful thing, and I think we'd all do well to take a moment and remember that they are just that - games. Medals, pride, and stiff competition aside (though that IS the lifeblood of these events) they are just games, and what we're really doing is coming together, for maybe a few hours at a time, looking someone else who doesn't speak a lick of your language right in the eye, and squaring off, to essentially say, "Hey, look - we both enjoy doing the same exact thing."
Then comes the excitement. Thanks to this streaming coverage deal, I tune in to every event going, "I wonder if the US has gone yet," and find myself twitching with sophomoric giddy when I see a US contender. I mean, in a day and age where it's almost shameful to admit your American in a global setting, it's nice to have something to root for. It doesn't make me hate politics, or wish things were different. It's just nice to ROOT for the US instead of cringing for it.
Either way, these games will be a refreshing few weeks of entertainment at least. Plus, the night owl in me greatly appreciates the around the clock coverage. haha.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
The Dark Knight
The Dark Knight Delivers
The Clown Prince of Crime steals the show.
I'm sure everyone has heard the buzz surrounding Heath Ledgers performance in this movie, with talk floating in the air about Academy Award nominations and Oscar worthy acting. Perhaps all of it is nothing more then polite commentary after his tragic passing only months after the films shooting ended. Either way, I was eager to see it for myself, and I can honestly say that it lives up to every bit of the hype.
Any good comic geek can tell you that The Joker is Batman's antithesis in regards to morale justice and integrity. The yin to his yang, as it were, but what REALLY makes the 2 characters so much bloody fun to watch is that the line between the 2 characters is unimaginably thin.
The Joker has always seems watered down outside comics. Not quite campy, but not quite raw enough. The Dark Knight nailed it. The Joker is supposed to be messed up - I mean, REALLY screwed up in the head, and Heath Ledger's portrayal marks him as the best Joker of all time. It can easily be argued that The Joker steals the show, because every moment that he's not on screen, your waiting (and at the same time, silently dreading) the next time he will appear. He's eerie and mystifying, and every bit as messed up as The Joker should be.
I also bow down to Hans Zimmer & James Newton Howard, because they gave this movie the mood and feel that Gotham City deserves. The absolutely chilling violin crescendo, that eerily creeps louder and louder, adds to the tension and uneasiness of the characters and the film overall. Just wonderfully enhancing, chilling, and driving.
The areas and themes explored also oozed tension - self doubt, sexuality (separate loves), and the all endearing pure psychotic glee, to name a few.
The viewer is forced to watch as The Batman is helpless to stop this psycho path in fear of losing himself to the same madness. And The Joker IS mad. Completely mad. You feel utterly ill watching The Joker parade through Gotham City unchecked, like a cancer slowly digging its tendrils into the heart of the city. Dark, dark, dark - this movie is gritty as hell. It transcends the pulpy medium it was born into and rises it to an entirely new level.
This movie is real. It will resonate within every movie goer on some level. The second I knew this was going to the kind of movie I'd hoped for was when The Joker did his "magic trick" at the beginning of the film. That just, totally fucked up moment of humor that you know you're going to hell for laughing at, but all the while realizing that you're only laughing to easy the tension - you're actually not really "laughing" at all. Because you know that it's not funny. It's wrong. THAT'S why The Joker was so good. Excellent writing. Excellent acting. Excellent execution.
If EVERY Batman story were told with this kind of attention to character detail, it would be my favorite series hands down. I eagerly await the chance to see this movie again.
I'm sure everyone has heard the buzz surrounding Heath Ledgers performance in this movie, with talk floating in the air about Academy Award nominations and Oscar worthy acting. Perhaps all of it is nothing more then polite commentary after his tragic passing only months after the films shooting ended. Either way, I was eager to see it for myself, and I can honestly say that it lives up to every bit of the hype.
Any good comic geek can tell you that The Joker is Batman's antithesis in regards to morale justice and integrity. The yin to his yang, as it were, but what REALLY makes the 2 characters so much bloody fun to watch is that the line between the 2 characters is unimaginably thin.
The Joker has always seems watered down outside comics. Not quite campy, but not quite raw enough. The Dark Knight nailed it. The Joker is supposed to be messed up - I mean, REALLY screwed up in the head, and Heath Ledger's portrayal marks him as the best Joker of all time. It can easily be argued that The Joker steals the show, because every moment that he's not on screen, your waiting (and at the same time, silently dreading) the next time he will appear. He's eerie and mystifying, and every bit as messed up as The Joker should be.
I also bow down to Hans Zimmer & James Newton Howard, because they gave this movie the mood and feel that Gotham City deserves. The absolutely chilling violin crescendo, that eerily creeps louder and louder, adds to the tension and uneasiness of the characters and the film overall. Just wonderfully enhancing, chilling, and driving.
The areas and themes explored also oozed tension - self doubt, sexuality (separate loves), and the all endearing pure psychotic glee, to name a few.
The viewer is forced to watch as The Batman is helpless to stop this psycho path in fear of losing himself to the same madness. And The Joker IS mad. Completely mad. You feel utterly ill watching The Joker parade through Gotham City unchecked, like a cancer slowly digging its tendrils into the heart of the city. Dark, dark, dark - this movie is gritty as hell. It transcends the pulpy medium it was born into and rises it to an entirely new level.
This movie is real. It will resonate within every movie goer on some level. The second I knew this was going to the kind of movie I'd hoped for was when The Joker did his "magic trick" at the beginning of the film. That just, totally fucked up moment of humor that you know you're going to hell for laughing at, but all the while realizing that you're only laughing to easy the tension - you're actually not really "laughing" at all. Because you know that it's not funny. It's wrong. THAT'S why The Joker was so good. Excellent writing. Excellent acting. Excellent execution.
If EVERY Batman story were told with this kind of attention to character detail, it would be my favorite series hands down. I eagerly await the chance to see this movie again.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Guy Who Has No Idea About Baseball Calls The Game
John Mayer calling a Red Sox Game during his stay in Japan.
Don't worry John - you'll always have music.
Friday, May 9, 2008
The 47 Ronin and my visit to the Sengaku-ji Temple
I feel very compelled to reflect on something that I think I took for granted - an experience I didn't actually feel as honored to have had when I had it.
I recently went to Japan this past winter, and it fulfilled me in more ways then I can accurately describe. The culture, it's people, it's history - all things that I've wanted to experience and feel since I first learned about Japan.
Now, it's not to trip that I feel I took for granted, but a place that we visited on the very last day of our 2 week trip to the island. That trip was to Sengaku-ji Temple, to burial site of the 47 Ronin, Lord Asano, and Lady Asano.
If you've no idea what or who the 47 Ronin are, this might make little sense as to why I feel so ashamed as to have taken so little time to acknowledge my visit. To me, we were just visiting another tourist site, but it is so much more. Let me share just why by giving you a brief introduction to the tale.
The 47 Ronin were what was left of over 120 Samurai who served Lord Asano, the county lord of Ako. Lord Asano was sentenced to death after striking at a man, Kira Kozukenosuke, who insulted his family name. The strike left Kira severely wounded, but not dead. Shortly thereafter, Asano's land was seized and his family now cast from the record books.
Oishi Kuranosuke, the retainer of the remaining Ronin (lordless Samurai), vowed to take revenge on Kira for insulting their late Lord and the name Asano. The Ronin were, unfortunately, watched very closely by Kira and the House of Uesugi, who had adopted Kira into their ranks. Oishi was watched particularly close, with a spy stationed outside his house for nearly 2 years. It came to the point where, in order to even get the chance to strike at Kira, the Samurai had to soil their respectable names by pretending to be farmers, peasants, and even woman chasing drunks, in order to convince the ever watching forces that they'd given up in trying to pursue any thought of revenge.
Like a true samurai, their dedication and discipline paid off, and the spies were recalled. Shortly thereafter, nearly 2 years after the death of their lord, the remaining forces gathered in Edo (what is now Tokyo for the most part) to plan their actions. Only 47 samurai were left to launch the attack on Kira, which happened on December 14th, 1702. The battle itself lasted only a few hours, but once Kira was defeated, with only 6 injured, the Samurai marched, I believe some 14+ miles, to Sengaku-ji Temple, where Lord Asano was buried, and presented the severed head of Kira to their deceased lord.
After much debate, 46 of the Ronin (excluding one of the youngest, who was sent by Oishi to Ako to tell the people of Kira's defeat) were sentence to sepukku (honorable suicide) and buried next to their lord. The one remaining Samurai (17 at the time) lived to be 75, and was buried with his fellow samurai at Sengaku-ji temple.
I justed finished reading The 47 Ronin Story by John Allyn, which mainly details the based on real fact story of Oishi Kuranosuke as lead retainer of the samurai. After reading this story, I've come to realize the true power and sacrifice this story displays. Assuming that the true facts and details towards the life stories of a lot of these men are lost to history, one true fact remains - the men made the ultimate sacrifice for a goal and purpose, and followed it through for honor and justice. Reading the book seemed to put it into perspective just how historically important these men were. What they stood for. What they accomplished.
And I was there.
well, in a sense. I walked on the same ground they did. Saw the same pool they washed the head of Kira in. Looked at the same grave site that Oishi did where his Lord was buried.
I inadvertently wandered up a small hill while at Sengaku-ji temple, not really knowing what I was looking for. Something about the area though - it seemed to call me towards it. It was inviting, and peaceful. At the top of the hill was a small gravestone that was fenced off from the public. I stood and stared at it for a good 5 minutes. I can't to this day tell you why I did. I just felt compelled to stay there and not move. I took a photo of a fenced off grave and turned back towards the group, not really giving it much else thought.
It wasn't until I finished the book, and did a little research online about the grave site that I realized the importance of that gravestone. I found this picture online, and it was labeled, "Oishi headstone. Sengakuji Temple, Tokyo, Japan"
Knowing that I went to the grave site at Sengaku-ji, I scrolled back through my pictures, and noticed that the grave I found on top of that small incline was none other then Oishi's grave.
(picture I got by holding the camera up over the top of the fence)
Anyway, I guess what I wanted to say was this:
Looking back on what these men did, and the sacrifices they made makes my trip to Sengaku-ji temple all the more powerful. The fact that they have been there, and preserved for over 300 years is a feat in itself, but also tells a lot about the respect and honor the Japanese people have for these fallen warriors. I wish I could go back and see it again, knowing about them what I know now.
Perhaps I will one day. Go back to the land of the rising sun, and visit this ancient warriors one more time, and truly honor them in the fashion they deserve.
I recently went to Japan this past winter, and it fulfilled me in more ways then I can accurately describe. The culture, it's people, it's history - all things that I've wanted to experience and feel since I first learned about Japan.
Now, it's not to trip that I feel I took for granted, but a place that we visited on the very last day of our 2 week trip to the island. That trip was to Sengaku-ji Temple, to burial site of the 47 Ronin, Lord Asano, and Lady Asano.
If you've no idea what or who the 47 Ronin are, this might make little sense as to why I feel so ashamed as to have taken so little time to acknowledge my visit. To me, we were just visiting another tourist site, but it is so much more. Let me share just why by giving you a brief introduction to the tale.
The 47 Ronin were what was left of over 120 Samurai who served Lord Asano, the county lord of Ako. Lord Asano was sentenced to death after striking at a man, Kira Kozukenosuke, who insulted his family name. The strike left Kira severely wounded, but not dead. Shortly thereafter, Asano's land was seized and his family now cast from the record books.
Oishi Kuranosuke, the retainer of the remaining Ronin (lordless Samurai), vowed to take revenge on Kira for insulting their late Lord and the name Asano. The Ronin were, unfortunately, watched very closely by Kira and the House of Uesugi, who had adopted Kira into their ranks. Oishi was watched particularly close, with a spy stationed outside his house for nearly 2 years. It came to the point where, in order to even get the chance to strike at Kira, the Samurai had to soil their respectable names by pretending to be farmers, peasants, and even woman chasing drunks, in order to convince the ever watching forces that they'd given up in trying to pursue any thought of revenge.
Like a true samurai, their dedication and discipline paid off, and the spies were recalled. Shortly thereafter, nearly 2 years after the death of their lord, the remaining forces gathered in Edo (what is now Tokyo for the most part) to plan their actions. Only 47 samurai were left to launch the attack on Kira, which happened on December 14th, 1702. The battle itself lasted only a few hours, but once Kira was defeated, with only 6 injured, the Samurai marched, I believe some 14+ miles, to Sengaku-ji Temple, where Lord Asano was buried, and presented the severed head of Kira to their deceased lord.
After much debate, 46 of the Ronin (excluding one of the youngest, who was sent by Oishi to Ako to tell the people of Kira's defeat) were sentence to sepukku (honorable suicide) and buried next to their lord. The one remaining Samurai (17 at the time) lived to be 75, and was buried with his fellow samurai at Sengaku-ji temple.
I justed finished reading The 47 Ronin Story by John Allyn, which mainly details the based on real fact story of Oishi Kuranosuke as lead retainer of the samurai. After reading this story, I've come to realize the true power and sacrifice this story displays. Assuming that the true facts and details towards the life stories of a lot of these men are lost to history, one true fact remains - the men made the ultimate sacrifice for a goal and purpose, and followed it through for honor and justice. Reading the book seemed to put it into perspective just how historically important these men were. What they stood for. What they accomplished.
And I was there.
well, in a sense. I walked on the same ground they did. Saw the same pool they washed the head of Kira in. Looked at the same grave site that Oishi did where his Lord was buried.
I inadvertently wandered up a small hill while at Sengaku-ji temple, not really knowing what I was looking for. Something about the area though - it seemed to call me towards it. It was inviting, and peaceful. At the top of the hill was a small gravestone that was fenced off from the public. I stood and stared at it for a good 5 minutes. I can't to this day tell you why I did. I just felt compelled to stay there and not move. I took a photo of a fenced off grave and turned back towards the group, not really giving it much else thought.
It wasn't until I finished the book, and did a little research online about the grave site that I realized the importance of that gravestone. I found this picture online, and it was labeled, "Oishi headstone. Sengakuji Temple, Tokyo, Japan"
Knowing that I went to the grave site at Sengaku-ji, I scrolled back through my pictures, and noticed that the grave I found on top of that small incline was none other then Oishi's grave.
(picture I got by holding the camera up over the top of the fence)
Anyway, I guess what I wanted to say was this:
Looking back on what these men did, and the sacrifices they made makes my trip to Sengaku-ji temple all the more powerful. The fact that they have been there, and preserved for over 300 years is a feat in itself, but also tells a lot about the respect and honor the Japanese people have for these fallen warriors. I wish I could go back and see it again, knowing about them what I know now.
Perhaps I will one day. Go back to the land of the rising sun, and visit this ancient warriors one more time, and truly honor them in the fashion they deserve.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Weather the storm
I've touched upon how hard the last few months have been, with so much bearing down on me and not enough arms to hold them all up. Picking and choosing priorities has been tough, as I usually end up trying to please everyone. But I've gotten better at it, and really organized myself. Unfortunately, I find myself sitting here with a budding cold that's left me with even less energy and focus then normal. The stress, it seems, has finally penetrated my defenses, and left me with a dizzying headache, a cough that could wake the dead, and a voice scratchier then Barry White during allergy season. I can partly thank my post-surgery vocal cord paralysis for that, coupled with a sore throat and a constant clearing of the throat. This has lead me to stay away from the animation building in fear of passing this lovely gift on to anyone else.
But back to work related topics - Every day this weekend, I've managed to crank out a pretty large chunk of work, but the beginning of the next day I'm presented with the still mounting workload that needs doing, crushing any semblance of a good mood I might have been lucky enough to receive that day. For example, Friday (when the cold hit) I managed to get a fair amount done with clean-up on my friend short film, coming steps closer to completing that scene. Saturday, I spent almost all day (a short soccer game aside) doing a 12 source bibliography, a brief abstract of the paper, and a sentenced outline for the final draft to come. I wanted to make the outline pretty in depth, so as to make the actual writing of the paper fairly simple (keep in mind I'd done NO research on my topic, Alberto Giacometti, prior to the bibliography or outline). Afterward, with the little time I had left in the day, I attempted to catch up on some portfolio work which was due last week. Sunday was home to most of that, and other work that had missed deadline, including an in depth paper of 20 prospective companies and a general outline for a flat book that is due (fully printed) by Thursday. Afterward, it was on to creating the groundwork for a website in Flash with a limited knowledge of action script. I dove in headfirst, and found myself regularly surfacing for air as the illness took its tole on me.
Finally, not any more then an hour ago, I'd managed to piece something together to resembled what I'd envisioned. But as I turn to head to bed, I look at the still seemingly impossible workload before me. I'd not touched my friend film in 2 days. I have a flat book due Thursday that I've not even touched, and 3 pages of finished pencils due on the same day. I've also got to find time to jump through the paperwork hoops to get the classes I need for the summer, as well as attend to some Flash files for work.
Just talking with family and friends, I've concluded that I am indeed just in a sad place right now. There is a lot of negative energy around me, and this cold seems to be amplifying it. At a time where graduation is supposed to bring some type of joy or excitement for something new, I find myself sulking and dragging my behind towards just piles and piles of never ending work.
But the kind words of my father and mother help to put things in perspective.
"This, too, will pass."
Whether I want it to or ask it to, this will eventually come to an end, and a new chapter will start. Will it be on the foot I'd hoped for? Ya never know, but like life, you can bet it's not gonna be exact.
But back to work related topics - Every day this weekend, I've managed to crank out a pretty large chunk of work, but the beginning of the next day I'm presented with the still mounting workload that needs doing, crushing any semblance of a good mood I might have been lucky enough to receive that day. For example, Friday (when the cold hit) I managed to get a fair amount done with clean-up on my friend short film, coming steps closer to completing that scene. Saturday, I spent almost all day (a short soccer game aside) doing a 12 source bibliography, a brief abstract of the paper, and a sentenced outline for the final draft to come. I wanted to make the outline pretty in depth, so as to make the actual writing of the paper fairly simple (keep in mind I'd done NO research on my topic, Alberto Giacometti, prior to the bibliography or outline). Afterward, with the little time I had left in the day, I attempted to catch up on some portfolio work which was due last week. Sunday was home to most of that, and other work that had missed deadline, including an in depth paper of 20 prospective companies and a general outline for a flat book that is due (fully printed) by Thursday. Afterward, it was on to creating the groundwork for a website in Flash with a limited knowledge of action script. I dove in headfirst, and found myself regularly surfacing for air as the illness took its tole on me.
Finally, not any more then an hour ago, I'd managed to piece something together to resembled what I'd envisioned. But as I turn to head to bed, I look at the still seemingly impossible workload before me. I'd not touched my friend film in 2 days. I have a flat book due Thursday that I've not even touched, and 3 pages of finished pencils due on the same day. I've also got to find time to jump through the paperwork hoops to get the classes I need for the summer, as well as attend to some Flash files for work.
Just talking with family and friends, I've concluded that I am indeed just in a sad place right now. There is a lot of negative energy around me, and this cold seems to be amplifying it. At a time where graduation is supposed to bring some type of joy or excitement for something new, I find myself sulking and dragging my behind towards just piles and piles of never ending work.
But the kind words of my father and mother help to put things in perspective.
"This, too, will pass."
Whether I want it to or ask it to, this will eventually come to an end, and a new chapter will start. Will it be on the foot I'd hoped for? Ya never know, but like life, you can bet it's not gonna be exact.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Pick and Choose
Found this really interesting fan-made video on aniboom of the Gorillaz song "Latin Simone". It's the original UK release of the song, which happens to have lyrics. After hearing this song now with lyrics, I'd have to say that it shoots up to one of my favorites by the band. And I gotta say, the video does it justice. Better then "Rock It", that's for sure.
Anyway, like I was saying about the added lyrics, it's amazing what 1 added element can do to something. Before, with just the beat and synths and horns, it was ok. But just ok. With the lyrics - I dunno, something just clicks with it all, like it was meant to have those all along. And how like life, and art in particular, where you're just not feeling something all the way, and then BAM - you add one little thing and the entire thing falls together.
Anyway, enjoy the song and video for what they are. Good stuff. I'm back to drawing Bartman, looking up prospective jobs, and hopfully getting a few hours sleep before classes.
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