Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Go Do Stuff: Social Gravity


I don't believe in God, I don't believe in fate, but sometimes chance throws you some extraordinary coincidences.

I just posted about Santa Monica’s Glow. It was amazing, go read my thoughts to help set the context for this post.



Early in the night, my friend Kate and I found ourselves relaxing at the very front of one of the most prominent art pieces.

Almost immediately, I noticed a friend from Berkeley present with one of his friends. Introductions all around, and our group doubled in size. Ten minutes later, still in the same spot, we encountered two of Kate’s friends from the Bay! More introductions, and then we had six. Another ten minutes, and two more people linked up, these being friends of my friend’s friend!! In the span of twenty minutes, our group had quadrupled in size, just from our standing around!

We subsequently traipsed around the pier/3rd street area, enjoying local sights and each other’s company. Everybody got along marvelously and the night’s enjoyment was boosted to the next level for (dare I say) all participants.

I was reflecting on this later, and I initially blamed serendipity for our having convened. Of the tens of thousands of people at the event, we had somehow managed to encounter people we knew who would be interested in joining us three separate times!

But the more I thought, the more I realized something. Coincidence though it was, Kate and I set ourselves up for that sort of experience quite accidentally.

Kate and I are both social connectors: supremely extroverted, relentlessly social beings. On top of the throngs of people we each know, we are both more than happy to make conversation with strangers. We had also planted ourselves in a very conspicuous place. It was only a matter of time before we were bound to run into someone we knew!!

I coined a term for this: social gravity. Our group, with a core of two extremely social animals, picked up more people in the same way that stars congeal from early stellar goop. Or, in other words, the more socially connected you are, the easier it is to forge new connections.

If you are someone who enjoys being social, get off your ass! Go do stuff!!

Monday, July 28, 2008

Go Do Stuff!!

The best things in life are free.

My friend Kate and I excitedly went to Glow last weekend. Glow, in short, was THE free cultural event of Santa Monica.



Quoteth KCRW:
A collection of international artists will transform the iconic Southern California spot into a premier art destination from dusk until dawn, with a dazzling array of effervescent sights, sounds and interactive activities.

GLOW is the ONLY event to have ever received permission to use the historic Santa Monica Pier and beach as an all-night venue and more than 25,000 people are expected to attend.
I'm not the type of person who can sit and appreciate any one piece of art for more than a couple minutes; I'm too caught up in my ADD sociality. But, that being said, THIS IS COOL:


The event itself was spectacular. The art was beautiful and very stimulating, but for me what made the night were the people! The sense of the event I had going into it could be summed up in a word: RAVE. All elements -- the presence of live DJ's, the end time (7am), even the name Glow -- created the expectation that ecstasy children would be bouncing around hugging everybody. So when I got there, what really floored and excited me was the sheer variety of the people! There were ravers, families, old couples, hippies, hobos, yuppies, puppies, artists, bar-hoppers, and me! Such a broad cross-section of local residents came together to share fun and positive energy... I've never felt so connected to my city.

Whether you live in the sprawling metropolis of my Los Angeles or a small farming community, there exists a glorious buffet of cultural events for you to sample. The price of admission to this buffet is only your motivation:
-Open the oft-overlooked culture/calender section of your local newspaper
-Google "(your city name) calender"

Glow was the most fun night I've had in recent memory, and it cost me almost nothing. I left committed to taking fuller advantage of local cultural events, no matter where I end up.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Electronic Music 2: BT Will Be Your Host


I was a freshman in college the day BT changed my life.

The groundwork had been laid for my conversion; a steady diet of classical music and progressive rock had provided fertile ground for the seeds of EDM to take root.

All I needed was the right seed, one singluar super-strain of electronica that wasn't too far towards the extreme of any one genre, the utmost in quality and inventiveness, and with an extensive catalog already available. I don't know what made Mark tell me about BT in our dorm hallway, but to him much is owed, for BT is all that and more.

BT, or Brian Wayne Transeau, is in all ways exceptional. He began playing piano at the ripe age of TWO. A musical virtuoso, he enrolled in the elite Berklee College of Music, but dropped out after a few semesters because his interests rested more with music electronics and synthesizers than formal musicianship. BT exploded onto the U.K. dance scene with early hits like "Loving You More," and "Blue Skies" (feat. Tori Amos).
His early work is unambiguously progressive house and trance, but it is third album I present to you for the most consideration.

Movement in Still Life, released in '99, was BT's seminal album, and my first true introduction to the world of EDM. It is unquestionably electronic: every song features an abundance of synthetic, energetic sound. Yet is it BT's effortless mastery of everything unelectronic that makes the album so delicious. He masterfully combines the electronic with the organic: electronic beeps next to acoustic guitar, soothing vocals laid over aggressive breakbeat. The album is a sonic journey, going from high-energy dance tracks to euphoric chillout, from trance, to house, to hip-hop. Only BT, a classically trained musician and relative genre outsider, could hope to produce a work as genre-defying and transcendent as this.

In retrospect, it was by far the perfect. Single. Album. to mark my introduction to the EDM as a whole. Normally I would single out worthwhile tracks to obtain, but this is the rare such album in which EVERY SINGLE SONG is amazing. I spent over a month being obsessed with one track after another. Go buy it, download it, iTunes-store it, however you prefer to consume it. And then listen to it. A lot. You really owe it to yourself.

In keeping with his excellence, BT's time is currently spread between being a superstar DJ, movie score composer, and recording artist. We as a species are blessed that such an extraordinary individual would choose to devote his life to music and share it with us.

Once you're done with Movement In Still Life, (and believe me, it will take a while) feel free to move on to these other favorites of mine:

**Not Over Yet (BT's Spirit Of Grace) (get the full 12 minute version if you can... the first 3 minutes is a spectacular from-ambient build that you don't get off the 8-minute version)
Sunblind
Flaming June (bt & pvd edit)
Remember (ESCM 12" mix and/or single mix)
Forbidden Fruit (BT & PvD's Food Of Love Mix)
Lullaby for Gaia

**In competition for my personal favorite EDM track ever.

Stay tuned for next weeks installment when we will examine my favorite genre: TRANCE.

Friday, July 4, 2008

Children of Men: Symbolic Bitch-Slap to Mainstream Hollywood


One of the ways Children of Men stands in stark contrast to most other Hollywood movies is its use of symbolism on par with the written medium.

There are so many things that could be said about Children of Men that I didn't know where to start. I was talking to my brother about it (he, incidentally, is a very talented student filmmaker and astute analyst of movies, and thinks just as highly of Children as I do) and he recommended that I pick an impacting scene and analyze some of the symbolism. I immediately knew which scene to analyze.

At around the 35 minute mark, Theo (Clive Owens) is summoned into the barn to speak with Kee (Claire Haite-Ashitey). He arrives to find Kee flanked on both sides by cows rigged to automatic milking machines. Beneath and in front of her, between her and Theo, is a tightly-packed group of smaller, younger cows. Visually, this foreshadows Kee's pregnancy: she is located at the nexus of both motherhood and infancy. Additionally, the infant cows are separated from their mothers; this foreshadows the threat of Kee and her child's forced separation. Before the camera even pans onto the visual symbolism, Kee initiates the conversation by saying,
"You know what they do to these cows? They cut off their tits! They do. Zzzzt! Gone. Bye. Only four. Four tits fits the machine. It's whacko. Why not make machines that soak eight titties, eh?"
This monologue is designed in all ways to disrupt the viewer and contrast with the calm maternity of the cows. Kee uses many monosyllabic words and brief sentences; it comes across as harsh and stacatto. The literal meaning of her words is a gruesome description of the physical damage to the mammaries of the cows. Beyond its emotional impact on the viewer, this monologue introduces symbolically the central struggle of the entire movie. The cows are symbolic of Kee; having their tits cut off to fit an ill-devised machine is symbolic of Kee's pregnancy and birth being hijacked to fit an unnatural agenda. Furthermore, the symbol of cutting off the cows' teats references the defeminization inherent in taking away Kee's baby. The aspect of gross physical damage to the cows also alludes to the potential physical harm threatened to Kee herself: the self-interested groups have no use for her once the baby is delivered.

Alfonso Cuaron, in the span of fifteen seconds, delivers the central conflict of the movie in entirely symbolic terms and on multiple levels of symbolism (visual, auditory, literal, connotative). How's that for art? :)

By the way, if you haven't seen this movie yet, you know what to do.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Electronic Music: Welcome, Enjoy Your Stay



America is weird. (As if you didn't know that.) In fact, it's REALLY weird. What makes it so weird is that it's the only industrialized country that hasn't consciously embraced electronic music yet. Elsewhere, club music dominates the media, and club music tends to be Electronic Dance Music (EDM). Each culture has local flavors: Germans like techno, Israelis like Middle-eastern flavored dance, and everybody enjoys a good house set. The common element is that the music is electronic -- fed to the masses by DJs instead of performed by bands -- and designed specifically for dancing.

America has, however, subconsciously embraced electronic music. Car commercials, movie action scenes... hell, I even heard someone play Paul Oakenfold at a hockey game to pump up the crowd -- and they loved it!

Electronic music is a genre as amazing and diverse an any other. My intent, with this series (hell yes, it's a series!!) is to lead you gentle yet irreversibly down the electronic path. Because, when it boils down to it, there's tons of good stuff. Furthermore, EDM gives me something different, fulfills me in a different way than rock or classical music. My hope in the short term is to get you to appreciate EDM, but the long-term project is to encourage you to become more aware of your own wants and needs as a listener.

Before I make any true recommendations, we need to give you a primer. EDM 101, if you will.

Here it is, Ishkur's guide to electronic music.
Clear your schedule.

If you're hungry for some track recommendations, here's a few gems from the first artist I plan on profiling in the next installment: BT.

BT:
Flaming June (bt vs pvd edit)
Remember
Dreaming
Running Down the Way Up
Never Gonna Come Back Down

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Get Your Punch On: Part 2

In part 1, you picked a martial art of choice and compiled a list of gyms in the area, now it's time to go for a look. The optimal time to visit is an hour or two after the end of the local work day. This is the time when the locals come to sweat out the work day. When you observe the class, keep the following criteria in mind.

Vibe
This is the easiest and one of the most important criteria to judge the martial arts studio. Are people conversing before the class starts? Are the people friendly? Is anyone smiling? Would you feel comfortable spending hours in this environment?

Unfortunately, the majority of the time the answer to these questions will be no, and the students will be coated with the distinct patina of douchbaggery. Flee the gym before it coats you too.

Is The Trainer a Fatty?
Don't trust a skinny chef and don't trust a fat trainer. Sure, fat guys can be good at martial arts, but a good trainer runs around on his feet all day long so even if he's cursed with fat cells the size of Tyra Banks' forehead, he will at worst be chubby. If the trainer can't kick above his waist and looks like fat Elvis straining over a toilet the place sucks.


The Respect Factor
The modern martial arts studio is not the
Shoalin Temple, so all the "you must unconditionally respect and obey your master" bullshit has got to go. If the class constatly being interrupted for various forms of propriety, senior students chastizing newbies on the trainer's behalf, or any hazing of newer students occurs, it is a good indication that the trainers are more interested in self-aggrendizing than teaching. You're an adult, and you're paying for the training, so you don't owe the trainers any more respect or alliegence than they earn by being profesionals and decent people.

This is not to say that the class should not have a certain level of formality. Students should not interrupt the class, be required to wear a uniform, will probably bow upon entering the gym and salute (not the military solute, retard) their teacher before class. Other small rituals may occur signaling the students to leave their baggage behind and get to training. Basically, I could have summed up this section with four words: you want a balance.

Facilities
Do not train in the dinky storeroom of a Chinatown restraunt regardless of how "authentic" the training is. Again, you're paying for a service, and the gym should have enough self respect to pretty itself up for you. You didn't hit on that girl in the bar because of how authentic her "training" was, you hit on her because her tits were spilling out of a bandana she mistook for a tube top.

The gym should be clean, large enough for comfort, and well ventilated (so it smells like a hint of sack rather than a face full of taint). Weights, elipticals, and boxing rings are also a sign of quality.

Age
Be on the lookout for gyms with several young trainers. I know that this sounds counterintuitive since age does bring experience, but young trainers are a good sign of retention. Great martial arts studios recruit from inside the organization. Trainers start out as young talented students and are eventually hired as teachers after years of training. Young teachers mean that the studio was not only able to train somebody to an exceptional skill level, but inspire them to devote the rest of their lives to martial arts. Before you join a gym, ask the trainers how they got into martial arts and ended up where they are. If they started where they're currently training, get out your checkbook, pledge your first born child, and get your punch on.

Wrap Up
You might have noticed a conspicuous omission in this guide (if you didn't, that just proves my point even more), I never mentioned analyzing the actual technique being taught. There are two good reasons for this. First, I'm assuming that you're new to martial arts, so asking you to evaluate technique is like asking an aspie to explain emotions. Second, even if you could spot some tight-ass-shit (technical term), that's not what you'll be doing. You're going to be flopping around like a fish and getting your ass handed to you for weeks if not months. Don't worry, it will be fun, but for you starting the journey is more important than the destination (cue cheesy music).

- Stas

Monday, June 9, 2008

Get Your Punch On: Part 1

Want to get into shape and stop shitting yourself every time a stranger passes you at night? Watched UFC or some Discovery Channel martial arts special and considering entering the business of punching faces? I commend you sir/madam/other, but unfortunately, finding a good martial arts studio is harder than finding a baby at a Planned Parenthood. The problem is that without experience all martial arts generally look cool, so how do you distinguish face-melting awesomeness from Taekwondo?

Having read Will's last post you might be thinking, What qualifies this asshole to give me nutritional martial arts advice? I have a combined 13 years of training in Kung Fu, full contact kickboxing, Karate, Muay Thai, jujitsu, and Krav Maga. I’ve got black belts, stupid trophies, eyebrow scars, and can catch a fly with chopsticks. That out of the way, let’s find you a place to train in an unspecified number of easy steps!

Are you a douche?
Answer the question honestly. I’m talking to you drunk guy I threw out of the party. Stop telling me that you can kick my ass. If you could you’d be bouncing my head between your knees and fists while I cried in falsetto instead of trying to engage me in some cryptic simian chest-bumping ritual. If you regularly get into fights and constantly try to prove your manliness to an invisible cheering crowd, you don’t need martial arts. You and your ilk need to be deported to Elba where all of you can strut around like little Napoleons comparing penis sizes and having pushup contests. You make martial arts studios suck. Go away.

Not a douche? Then pick your poison.
There are dozens of martial arts to choose from, so which is the best for you? Here are a few
possibilities:


Kung Fu: Kung Fu is my personal recommendation for beginners. It will expose you to a wide variety of techniques, the movements feel "natural" so you can develop very fluid movement and fighting technique, plus there is an inexhaustible amount of epic moves to learn. Jet Li, Jackie Chan, that’s all Kung Fu. In addition, swords, spears, staffs, fans and benches (!) are just some of the weapons you’ll have the opportunity to master.


Karate: Good for developing strength and resilience. Karate is more stiff and blocky than Kung Fu, but its philosophy is geared towards the one fight-ending technique. If becoming a human tank packing boomstick punches sounds like fun, this one’s for you.


Full Contact (kickboxing, Muay Thai, MMA): If you already have some martial arts experience, this will definitely step up your game. Full contact will transform you from a good technician into nut-stomping monstrosity. Take a few techniques, perfect them, then throw them as hard and fast as you can at the person facing you. The only drawback is that if you go this route with no previous experience your technique repertoire will be somewhat limited, so if you need a lot of variety, this is not for you.


Juijitsu: Like wrestling and submissions? Look no further. This is the most hardcore ground fighting there is.


Krav Maga: Want to transform yourself from wuss to raging rhino in a couple of months? Krav Maga is for you my friend. Pure unbridled, near psychotic aggression is what you’ll learn. Your technique repertoire will consist of biting off Adam's apples, pelvis-shattering groin kicks, joint breaks, head butts, and good old fashioned dirty fighting. None of it is pretty, but all of it extremely effective.


Taekwondo: DO NOT TAKE TAEKWONDO. This is not a martial art but sword-less fencing. But Stas, you say, what about all the pretty kicks? Those fancy kicks are useless in a fight. Furthermore, the lack of emphasis Taekwondo puts on hand technique and practical blocking means you’ve invested hundreds of dollars and countless hours at being really good at getting your ass kicked.

Can’t make a choice? You don’t have to! Just compile a list of your local studios and we’ll go comparison shopping next time. Stay tuned.

- Stas

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Eating Well Made Easy: Part 1

Everybody is trying to tell you how to eat. Atkins, South Beach, even frickin' OPRAH has her two cents to chip into the pile. Most of them are trying to make money off you.

With the right knowledge, you can gain all the benefits of good eating with hardly any monetary cost or headache.

Crucial question you should be asking:
What qualifies this asshole to give me nutritional advice? I'll be honest with you from the get-go: I don't have a degree in biology and I'm not a nutritionist. I do, however, have specific experience that is valuable:
-I was a personal trainer; I've seen people make body changes as a result of specific dietary changes.
-I've eaten well on $60/week. I'm not saying that's optimal ;) but hey, it was college.
Most importantly...
-I spent four months of my life counting calories. Every single meal I ate, I jotted it down and input it into diet software. For Four. Months. It was a very enlightening experience! For me, it was a paradigm shift, permanently and irreversibly changing the way I think about food.

Fact 1: Eating correctly is simple!

Those very same people who want to make money ALSO want you to think that eating well is complicated.
They bust out complicated words like "antioxidants," "macronutrient ratios," and "isoflavones." All of this is designed to DISCOURAGE you from taking personal responsibility for your eating!! "Offload your nutritional decision making to us and we'll guarantee your weight loss! Now, we just need $200 per month." Given all the conflicting information that is thrown at your average dumbass American, there's no surprise that Jenny Craig is a multi-million dollar business.

Even if the chemistry and biology of eating well is complicated, the rules that govern what you should eat are simple and few.

Fact 2: Eating correctly is NOT EXPENSIVE!

Another great travesty of the health food industry is you have to pay more to get the good stuff.

Caveat: it takes some minimum amount of money to eat well. I'm assuming you can afford to drop about $5 per meal (home-prepared). For college students, people on welfare, or people who have an abnormally large number of kids, this might be an issue. That being said, you will still derive value from my recommendations because they are universally applicable. (If you really wanted to, you could assemble a decently health meal at McDonald's. It would taste horribly though.)

That being said, on issues of health, rich people tend to be no better informed than poor people. They are just as susceptible to marketing, and many of the pricier "health" foods are just that: clever marketing. For example, some juice could say, "fortified with extra whatever!" But that "whatever" is found abundantly in a piece of broccoli, which (unlike juice) cannot be dressed up into another price category.

Fact 3: Eating Well Tastes Great!!

Disclaimer: I will ask you to give up/reduce some of the tastier crap you're used to: the fatty, the sugary, and the salty. But in exchange I will give YOU recommendations on how you can make your healthy eating experience delicious.

The exciting reality is it doesn't require very much ambition, knowledge, or preparation to make delicious AND nutritious meals. Even the vegetables, the part we typically enjoy least, can be spruced up in tasty and easy ways.

Fact 4: Eating Well is Rewarding!!

Depending on how poorly you are currently eating, when you switch to eating well you may experience the following awesome effects:
-Favorable body mass changes
-More and more consistent energy throughout the day
-Better mood
-Increased productivity
-Better sex life (men: better erections, women: better/longer orgasms. No I'm not kidding.)
-Digestive issues will disappear

How can I possibly promise all this? The phrase "you are what you eat" has become so cliched as to be almost meaningless. Nevertheless, it's 100% true. Every cell in your body is comprised of atoms and molecules derived from the food you consumed at some point in your past. What you put into you is so fundamentally important to your body's well-being. McDonald's, lick my nutsack.

Up next: I realized recently the legacy of all my uptight information-gathering on the subject of eating: a few simple but profound rules to follow that will revolutionize your eating and possibly your life. Stay tuned.

-Will

Aurelio Martinez Is An Awesome Possum

Let’s play a word association game:

When I say, “South American music,” do you think Reggaeton and ranchera?
When I say, “a nice place” do you think Florida?

“Wait”, the hypothetical you says, “what’s with that second one? Florida sucks. Its only redeeming quality is that the inexhaustible supply of dead geriatrics can be used to construct artificial islands to escape the purgatory of mainland Florida.”

“Well,” the non-hypothetical me replies, “stop associating Reggaeton and ranchera with music.”

Reggaeton is a deadly concoction of the worst of reggae, hip-hop, and the Spanish language. Mix in the same hollow TUN..TUN..TUN beat in every song and you have the perfect treat for your sweet tooth. By sweet tooth I mean mental retardation.

Ranchera is some bizarre mix of polka and sombreros. It’s like German music and Latin music got together and popped out a child with horrific genetic deformities. Now that it’s been released this monstrosity haunts us at Mexican restaurants and constructions sites like some sort of Quasimodo ringing the bells of prenatal testing and abortion.

Banish these two genres from your minds and let me introduce Aurelio Martinez, a Garifuna artist from Honduras, and his album Garifuna Soul. Aurelio plays the Paranda music traditional to the Garifuna people, a marriage of African rhythms and Spanish guitar. Aurelio sings, plays the guitar, and is backed by a large band. The result is acoustic honey-wine. If you’ve ever found yourself enjoying Brazilian acoustic music, you’ll love Garifuna Soul. Furthermore, Aurelio Martinez is a nice stepping stone to exploring the wonderful genres of music you can find in Africa and South America.

Listen to Garifuna Soul for free on Aurelio’s MySpace page, download his music on Amazon and iTunes.

- Stas

I R Hypocrite?

As I just finished up my Hollywood crap post, I had one of those "wait a minute..." moments. One of those moments in which you're engaging in some activity, feeling good about it, and then you realize something that makes you question what you're doing on a very fundamental level. I imagine Bush et al. could use a few more of those moments.

I just finished a post that spends part of its length lamenting the attention span of the average American, only to then pander to that same ADD inclination by trying to keep it short and funny. OH NOES, cognitive dissonance haz me!

On the one hand, we're trying to cater to a smarter, more patient demographic. On the other hand, everybody likes to be entertained.

Not sure how to reconcile that. Well, ya can't please 'em all.

Children of Men: Antidote to Hollywood Shlockfests

Every once in a while, something truly extraordinary comes out of Hollywood. The conditions are always the same: a director of such renown that the studio execs give them complete creative control; the director is also him/herself involved in writing the script, as part of his/her grand vision. The more extraordinary the director, the more extraordinary the vision.

Cue Alfonso Cuaron. Resume: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and Y Tu Mama Tambien. Cuaron managed to secure a large budget and complete creative control of the film adaptation of P.D. James's book.

The result, my friends, is one of the most shockingly relevant movies ever made, a movie that will play your emotions like an instrument without seeming to try.

The plot, only as much as you need to appreciate my review:

In 2009, inexplicably, humans lost the ability to procreate. No more babies, no more children; at this point the world's population will only fall inexorably towards zero. In 2027, the time the movie is set, human society is sliding into collapse. Britain is the only remaining nation that clings to a semblance of order, and at the cost of an oppressive fascist government. The movie opens with the protagonist exiting a coffee shop just in time to watch it explode from an act of domestic terrorism. In London. Refugees (called, "fugees") pour into Britain, which uses its grossly-militarized police force to collect and deport them.

The story centers around Theo, played masterfully by Clive Owens, an ex-revolutionary who lost his will to live when his son died. He drifts through life, clinging to alcoholism and his only friend, Jasper (an amazing Michael Caine) to fill the void. Everything changes when his ex-wife Julian (Juliane Moore), representing a pro-immigration terrorist group, presents him a deal: use his connections to escort a fugee to the coast in exchange for a large sum of money. Theo reluctantly agrees, only to find himself as the primary protector of the worlds only pregnant women.

There are so many things I want to say about this movie that I have to split it into two posts. The rest of this post will be general praise, so as not to ruin any plot points. The next post will contain more specific musings that might be spoilers. Without further ado...

Why Children of Men Kicks Severe Amounts of Ass

1. The Strength And Depth of the Vision.

The world of Children of Men is as immersive as it is hopeless. Cuaron draws you in immediately and viscerally with the impeccable set design and camera technique. Most mainsteam movies cut between different shots frequently, and it is a double-edged sword: it makes the movie more visually stimulating but serves to disconnect the audience from any one perspective. Cuaron, by contrast, makes deft use of long, uncut shots; the effect is to ground the audience firmly in the events taking place. And it works: the first time many people see the movie, they arent even aware that a certain shot has gone on for two, five, or even ten minutes during the harrowing climax. Ebert said it best, "Every time the director cuts to another shot, he's lying to you." The most exciting scenes in Children of Men have the fewest cuts.

The impeccable attention to detail works in conjuction with camera technique to draw in the viewer. Many fantastical movies rely on the expansiveness of their world to wow and impress the audience (think 5th element), yet in their overtness leave nothing to be inferred. Cuaron takes the opposite approach -- he teases you, whets your appetite with the subtlest of details. The act of paying close attention to the movie is rewarded with a rare richness of content. For instance, the average audience member is begging for more detail: "What is happening to the rest of the world?" The answer is alluded to, mentioned briefly, but never shown. The opening lines of the movie are the drone of a TV newsman reciting, "Today is day one-thousand of the siege of Seattle." Later in the movie, it is revealed to us fleetingly that a nuclear bomb was detonated in New York. The audience is left to draw its own conclusion about what state the USA is in. The details that Cuaron choses to reveal are only that which he must in order to tell the story of Theo.

And that's another of what makes CoM so great, is that for all of its symbolism and consideration of larger themes, it is about the journey and redemption of one of the most believable heroes toever to grace the silver screen.

Oh, and did I mention that it has some of the most believable and exciting action I've ever seen?

Go watch it now, and then come back for part 2 for the discussion.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

My Dark Place Is Protected By A Steel Chastity Belt

Remember the 80’s and early 90’s? All those hours spent reading Goosebumps and watching the festering corpses of horror and science fiction clubbed like seals by junior college “English majors” wielding bats of clichés on the SciFi channel (or any other network with self esteem so low it could only have been brought on by years of ostracism and rejection by more popular, hotter networks that dated the Lifetime channel) while the rest of the kids were going to “dances” and “socializing” and “making friends” will finally be put to good use. And FUCK YOU Mr. Donnehough, if you had graded my Steven King book reports appropriately [Grade: F. Stas, if you keep on reading these Steven King novels, I’m going to insist on putting you in the special class because anyone who can be entertained by 300+ pages of cut and paste plot structure over and over again either has Alzheimer’s or is a goldfish. – Donnehough P.S. You are stupid.] I would’ve spent the summer lassoing a girlfriend instead of writing a scifi version of The Lottery.

Bitter memories aside, do I have a show for you. Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace is a spoof of the type of television shows I mentioned above, complete with wooden acting, ridiculous plot premises, 80s hair, rockin’ synth music, and even “behind the scenes” interviews with the cast. This show is as funny as the Gulag Archipelago is long (Soviet dissident literature reference, booyah!). However, no one can introduce Darkplace better than Garth Marenghi himself, so here is an excerpt from the opening credits.

“I’m Garth Marenghi. Author. Dream Weaver. Visionary. Class actor. You are about to enter the world of my imagination. You are entering my dark place.”

For your enjoyment, the following is an outline of the third episode:
Dr. Rick Dagless rescues a patient who’s in the process of having his “dark place” violated by a giant walking eye with an equally enormous penis by shooting the eye monster with a magnum he happens to be carrying in his lab coat. The patient then gives birth to an eye-monster baby (eye-monsters have very short gestation periods). Dr. Rick Dagless abducts the eyechild to raise as his own because it reminds him of his dead, green-ant-alien looking son (stick with me). Hilarity ensues as Dagless attempts to hide the eyechild until the staff finds him and the eyechild on the roof. Cue fight and chase sequence. Dagless is finally subdued inside the hospital and brought to his senses. As Dagless goes to caress the eyechild for a final time, it bites him. Shouting in pain, Dagless smashes the eyechild against every wall and table in sight while it is attached to the tip of his finger, then shouts in horror when he sees what he has done. Flashbacks and ridiculous dialogue. The End.

Don't believe me? Behold the mighty YouTube (do not miss the eye-on-man sex starting at 3:50).

- Stas

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Big Hollywood: River of Poo



If you're like me, you don't go to the movies much. I can count on one hand the number of movies I've seen this year; that's one part me having been on a budget, one part I'd rather take a cattle prod to the gooch than sit through another formulaic crap-festival. The more I mature in my outlook, the more stringent I become in my entertainment tastes. And Hollywood, in my opinion, is a wasteland of crap right now. It's that toilet in the men's bathroom that clogged days ago, but instead of someone sacking up and plunging the bastard, everybody just kept crossing their fingers and flushing it: "Maybe this time it'll clear up!"

We, as a population, are conditioned to expect and react to big-budget spectacles, movies that are as bombastic in their presentation as they are devoid of meaningful thematic, emotional, or philosophical content. I know a lot of people who watch primarily foreign movies, and I don't blame them; foreign audiences are looking for impact, meaning, and emotional relevance. The average Americans, so far removed from a book that their imaginations have atrophied to something resembling a lima bean, are looking for something that makes them bang on their cage bars, chanting, "look ma, it shiny!"

And I understand why it happens, and I forgive Hollywood. They are INVESTORS looking to TURN A PROFIT. Asking Hollywood to produce art is like asking Donald Trump to paint something that doesn't suck ass; it's just silly. When it comes to making their money, they do what works. Anything that is fresh, new, or visionary, to them, represents an untested product. They're the gambling equivalent of the poker player who folds anything less than Ace-queen. Except, in their game the pot is worth hundreds of millions.

Case in point: Iron Man. Before you get your collective panties in a bunch, I liked Iron Man. Even though I'm about to rip it a new asshole for its lack of originality, it stands as a big-budget spectacle done correctly. Anyway, my complaint against Iron Man is that it DOESN'T TAKE ANY RISKS. Observe.
-Comic book movie? Check.
-Enough special effects to give Neo a hard-on? Check.
-PG-13 rating to avoid alienating the deep pockets of the family market? Check.
-Kick-ass American militarism destroying generic Muslim enemies? Check.
-Completely devoid of any moral ambiguity? Check.
-Wise-cracking hero whose utter lack of personality is overshadowed only by his utter failure to predict that his obviously-evil number 2 will turn on him? Check.

Actually, as I was making that list, it made me think of Transformers, which was essentially two hours of Michael Bay splooging his special effects budget into America's collective face in a giant act of patriotic bukake.

WE are the ones to blame for this schlock. Every time you spend $10 on a movie, you're voting "yes" on that concept or formula. And Hollywood counts the votes diligently.

What, my friends, is the cure? How can we address this glaring defect in an entertainment format that was once considered "art?"

Number one: stop seeing stupid movies. How can you tell which ones are going to be stupid? Easy. Their trailers are stupid.

Number two: go rent Alfonso Cuaron's Children of Men.

My next post will be about why that movie not only kicks ass, but how it's everything that Hollywood usually isn't.

Stay tuned.

-Will

Here I am; this is me

Hey there!

I... am Will: a great friend of Stas, co-founder and co-contributor to this blog.

Stas and I make a great team. We're both smart, fun-loving people, and we share an appreciation for the finer things in life. We each bring our unique complementary strengths to the table.

I don't know where I see this going, but if it's me and Stas, it can't be wrong.

Based on what you've read so far you all must think we're a couple of self-indulgent tools, focused solely on stroking our e-wangs. And you know what, who am I to argue? The truth is we founded a blog based on the idea that we can help improve YOUR life, in whatever facet or magnitude you desire. Open your mind -- and your life -- to input. You may just like what we have to offer.

-Will

P.S. I have a promise: if you comment, I'll respond. 1:1. Enjoy it while it lasts :)

German Fairytales Are Creepy

If I wore a monocle and sipped wine with my pinky extended, I would call The Princess and The Warrior a film. Since I prefer beer and vodka, I’ll just stick to calling this one of the most amazing movies I’ve ever seen. Yes it’s in German, yes it’s slow paced, but if you watch this movie and you’re not moved then you’re either in cardiac arrest or have a Bud Light instead of a heart. And no, slack-jawed, dead-eyed neophyte, Bud is not beer but bottled piss water. More to the point, what are you doing reading this blog, don’t you have some inbred, gap-toothed kids to pop out?

Anyways, The Princess and The Warrior comes to us from writer/director Tom Tykwer the man behind Run Lola Run. Unlike the fast-paced Run Lola Run, The Princess and The Warrior is a carefully paced, beautiful, and frequently disturbing.

This is Sissi (Franka Potente, you might remember her from the Borne Identity movies). She’s a nurse at the loony bin.


This is Bodo (
Benno Fürmann), he’s sad, angry, and pretty. He also saves someone’s life for funsies.


This is Steini (
Lars Rudolph) starring at Sissi. He’s crazy AND creepy.

If that didn’t get you interested, here are some more spoiler-free tidbits. There’s a bank robbery, a police chase, murder, attempted suicide, breathtaking cinematography, and a love story buried inside this movie. All this and the movie leaves you feeling glowing on the inside

Amazing story, depth, and some truly twisted stuff, there’s something for everyone. How can you go wrong?

- Stas

Monday, June 2, 2008

Turn Off Your Radio

Due it now, it’s turning your brain into mush and making your ears cry (yes, ears have tear ducts). Ditch the traffic, weather, “natural male enhancement” commercials and let your ears feast (yes, ears have mouths) on the majesty of Radio Three Sixty. I might be confused about basic anatomy, but fuck it, Radio Three Sixty gives me auralgasm. Radio Three Sixty is a music podcast. No commercials, no bullshit, just amazing music from a wide variety of genres you would never find on your own. Want to discover new music? Radio Three Sixty. People are over and you’re too lazy to make a playlist? Radio Three Sixty. Have ears? Radio Three Sixty. Go to iTunes, subscribe, and have a better life.

Too many episodes to choose from? Here are some of my favorites:

1. Radio Three Sixty Part Forty Two
2. Radio Three Sixty Part Seventeen
3. Radio Three Sixty Part Sixteen
4. Radio Three Sixty Part Thirty Eight
5. Radio Three Sixty Part Thirty Seven

- Stas

Sunday, June 1, 2008

How is this blog different from all other blogs?

Simply put, this blog is about things that are awesome. Awesome books, blogs, music, movies, podcasts, events, places, recipes, and anything else we find interesting. The Optimized Life is a recommendation service to optimize every facet of your life, from how you wash dishes (get a brush with a handle) to how you hang out with friends (have dinner parties).

[Insert favorite deity here] has granted us impecable taste and a fiery hate for all things bland and mediocre, so throw out your Avril Levigne CDs and get some culture.

BAM!

- Stas