You guessed it. I saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull today. It was actually not too bad. It did suffer from somewhat overplaying it's cards though. The original trilogy from the eighties was well known for it's balance of goofy humour and over-the-top action that bordered on the preposterous. It was silly, but fun anyway, and it was never too outlandish. Indy's latest adventure largely manages to capture that goofy sense of humour, but unfortunately the action can occasionally become too over the top even for a movie of this pedigree. Make no mistake, it'll draw some laughs, but in the back of your mind you'll be thinking that it went just a little too far in one or two scenes.
The plot was another sticking point. It just didn't seem to gel with the whole Indy universe. It was also a bit more complicated when compared to the previous movies, so there were parts that left me confused as to what was actually supposed to be happening. In the end it was actually much weaker (and more predictable) than what it could have been. Ah well, at least the villains were cool (note to film-makers, more movies with crazed vodka-swilling Soviets!).
As for the acting, well they basically carried the movie a little bit more than I would have hoped. Yes, it's kind of a back-handed compliment, because basically the entire cast was excellent. I particularly liked the Soviet Colonel, who looked suitably stony-faced, solemn, and massive, a perfect stereotypical Communist Russian then. What's-her-name the Ukranian scientist occasionally buggered up the accent, but she was suitably sinister nonetheless. Of course Ford was brilliant as Indy, and the guy who played his side-kick (look up the names, you can use IMDB, right?) was excellent as both an aspiring adventurer and a typical fifties greaser. It's just a shame that the brilliant acting (and decent writing obviously) had to cover for the lazy plot.
In spite of these downers Indy's latest adventure still managed to leave a smile on my face once the credits rolled. And isn't that what movies are all about? Where it sits amongst its 80's era peers is a matter of opinion. I think it's probably a bit better than Temple of Doom, but it can't touch Raiders of the Lost Ark or the Last Crusade.
By the way, I really didn't like Temple of Doom, but I'll save that rant for another time.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Angry angry man
Everyone's angry. Everyone's stressed. Everyone's rushing, red-faced, dazed. Why? Exams? Formal? Parents? Assessments?
What does it all matter? Will you be better if you snap at everyone who tries to help you? Will you be angry yourself when you try to help someone, but the only response is a hostile one?
Anger is good, when it's controlled. If you let it boil over, prepare for a few bridges to be burnt - or at least singed for a while.
I'm the first to admit my hypocrisy. I'm known to snap when under stress, under the pump. But, I'm working on it!
What am I saying here? God, I don't know.
School isn't everything. Results aren't everything. Believe it or not, a good ENTER won't set you up for life. Especially if you bury yourself in your room studying for a year only to wake up one day with no social skills, no friends, and a little piece of paper in your hand that means nothing because you didn't take the time to work out what to do with it.
Money isn't everything. For God's sake, don't go into a job for the money. It sounds pompous coming from someone such as yours truly, but I know people who's only goal is to make money. And they sit on it. Guess what? They're not happy. They're the most boring individuals with tired, repetitive jokes who never come out because it's too expensive.
LIFE is important. LIVE your life. ENJOY yourself.
God I'm a fucking preacher.
What does it all matter? Will you be better if you snap at everyone who tries to help you? Will you be angry yourself when you try to help someone, but the only response is a hostile one?
Anger is good, when it's controlled. If you let it boil over, prepare for a few bridges to be burnt - or at least singed for a while.
I'm the first to admit my hypocrisy. I'm known to snap when under stress, under the pump. But, I'm working on it!
What am I saying here? God, I don't know.
School isn't everything. Results aren't everything. Believe it or not, a good ENTER won't set you up for life. Especially if you bury yourself in your room studying for a year only to wake up one day with no social skills, no friends, and a little piece of paper in your hand that means nothing because you didn't take the time to work out what to do with it.
Money isn't everything. For God's sake, don't go into a job for the money. It sounds pompous coming from someone such as yours truly, but I know people who's only goal is to make money. And they sit on it. Guess what? They're not happy. They're the most boring individuals with tired, repetitive jokes who never come out because it's too expensive.
LIFE is important. LIVE your life. ENJOY yourself.
God I'm a fucking preacher.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Conform to my non-conformist ways!
Non-Conformists. We've all met them. And they all look the same. Isn't that ironic? You meet someone who tells you that they're going against the flow, bucking the mainstream. But in reality they're simply conforming to another stereotype or group.
A billboard caught my attention to this the other day. It asked, "If emos are non-conformist, why do they all dress the same?" It's a good point, and though, bafflingly, it was an ad for Sprite, it provides some food for thought. Let's think about the average non-conformist for a moment. What springs to mind? Dreadlocks, earthy-green looking clothes, a rather strong smell of something, thongs, and of course a battered-looking 1980's Datsun that probably spews out more pollution than a Toyota Landcruiser.
Therein lies the problem, by definition we should not be able to pidgeon-hole a non-conformist into a category. Yet, we can. Therefore it's safe to say that the advent of a true non-conformist is extremely rare indeed. A non-conformist wouldn't think in the same way a normal person does. They would, to make use of a tired cliché, think outside the square. The true non-conformist isn't someone who dresses differently, or looks down upon society, they're someone who tries to improve society, improve the human condition. They are Albert Einstein, Leonardo Da Vinci, Isaac Newton. People who change the world, rather than those who try to reject it.
So to those people who look down on others for "following the crowd" by listening to certain types of music or wearing certain types of clothing, take a look at yourself. Do you follow a crowd of your own? Do you ever think of improving the world rather than simply trying to dismiss it by calling them conformist sheep? I'd hazard a guess at saying you probably go for the latter more often than not. I say to you, you're a conformist too, you're simply conforming to another stream in society.
So, I say to you. Wear what you think looks good. Listen to what you think sounds good. Don't worry as to whether or not you're conforming to some sort of crowd. These are the superficial parts of society that, in the grand scheme of things, don't matter. It's your mind that you need to keep open, keep unique. It's your mind that could change the world, not your clothes.
A billboard caught my attention to this the other day. It asked, "If emos are non-conformist, why do they all dress the same?" It's a good point, and though, bafflingly, it was an ad for Sprite, it provides some food for thought. Let's think about the average non-conformist for a moment. What springs to mind? Dreadlocks, earthy-green looking clothes, a rather strong smell of something, thongs, and of course a battered-looking 1980's Datsun that probably spews out more pollution than a Toyota Landcruiser.
Therein lies the problem, by definition we should not be able to pidgeon-hole a non-conformist into a category. Yet, we can. Therefore it's safe to say that the advent of a true non-conformist is extremely rare indeed. A non-conformist wouldn't think in the same way a normal person does. They would, to make use of a tired cliché, think outside the square. The true non-conformist isn't someone who dresses differently, or looks down upon society, they're someone who tries to improve society, improve the human condition. They are Albert Einstein, Leonardo Da Vinci, Isaac Newton. People who change the world, rather than those who try to reject it.
So to those people who look down on others for "following the crowd" by listening to certain types of music or wearing certain types of clothing, take a look at yourself. Do you follow a crowd of your own? Do you ever think of improving the world rather than simply trying to dismiss it by calling them conformist sheep? I'd hazard a guess at saying you probably go for the latter more often than not. I say to you, you're a conformist too, you're simply conforming to another stream in society.
So, I say to you. Wear what you think looks good. Listen to what you think sounds good. Don't worry as to whether or not you're conforming to some sort of crowd. These are the superficial parts of society that, in the grand scheme of things, don't matter. It's your mind that you need to keep open, keep unique. It's your mind that could change the world, not your clothes.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Something Old, Something New, Borrowed and Wild
Cars.
Yes we're talking cars.
Why?
Because I want to.
BMW. Know em? I generally think that Beemers are for tossers. There's nothing inheritably wrong with them. In fact they're fantastic machines. They're generally reliable and they have that sleek German efficiency about them. Sure, a few years ago they churned out a few dogs style-wise, but now they're back on track producing some truly fantastic-looking machines.
So why do I think they're for tossers? Because they're the only people who can afford them. And therein lies the problem. All the best cars, the coolest cars, the most powerful cars, usually have someone who you'd rather not talk to for very long behind the wheel. They're the sort of person who always has one of those blu-tooth mobile phone headsets glued to their ears, as if every call is of such importance and urgency that it must be answered right away. They're the sort of person who picks on the most uninteresting topic of conversation imaginable - usually involving themselves - and proceeds to crush you with a torrent of sheer boringness until you can take it no longer and find an excuse to leave. Basically, they're the sort of person you'd only spend time with if they had a nice car.
It's ok for the likes of Ferrari and the other Italian supercar makers. They have that exotic excitement about them that makes them desirable to the common man. Beemer, on the other hand, are too... common. Too run-of-the mill to be an object of desire. It's a shame, really. For years BMW's M series has been the pinnacle of performance and engineering, but no child has a poster of an M5 on their bedroom wall - that's reserved for the Italians. BMW has always stood on the sideline, a rich man's car, but not a rich man's dream car.
Ok, BMW make solid, reliable and boring cars. So what? They always have, right?
Not true.
Tonight I want to show you something, the BMW that dared to be different, a Beemer I'm confident would look right at home on a ten year old's bedroom wall between the Enzo and the Countach. It looks modern, but it came out in 1978. It started the M series of BMWs that performance nuts have grown to love. The BMW M1.
It reminds me of a DeLorean, but unlike its Irish-American competitor the M1 doesn't fall apart when you power it up. Just look at it, sleek supercar lines meld with the traditional BMW split-nose grill to make something both familiar and unique at the same time. The colour of this one is terrible, but if you see a deep-black M1 driving down the main street, you'll be craning your neck until it's out of sight. It was a combination of the best of both worlds, designed by an Italian, engineered by a German.
The car was never hugely successful commercially, and that's probably why it's never been regarded as a classic car in the same way the Ferraris and Lamborghini of the time were. It did however lead BMW down the path of factory-tuned performance cars. The M1 was soon followed by the M3 in 1986 and the M-series as we know it was born.
Anyway, I've raised the M1 from the ashes for a reason! It seems BMW have been bitten by the supercar bug once again, perhaps they were inspired by Audi's fantastic R8, or perhaps they were sick of being the car company for tossers. Either way they've produced a new concept. Sure, it's a computer generated image, but here's to the million-to-one chance that Beemer will believe it's economically viable.
I love that nose. It's got the same sleek styling as the M1, but with a much more aggressive bias. The hooded headlamps and the dark, stretched V-shape grill really give the car a sinister look. Like it could swallow you whole and spit you out the other end in a mangled heap.
And the back:
The aggressive styling continues around the back. Look at those tail-lights! It's like looking into the face of an angry hawk!
Ok, I admit, it looks a bit outlandish, but this is a concept mock-up. Remember the original R8 concept pictures? Expect that garish bonnet-bulge to shrink or disappear, change the colour to black and you have yourself a supercar. It's the M1 on steroids, and BMW should build it. Build it now.
Yes we're talking cars.
Why?
Because I want to.
BMW. Know em? I generally think that Beemers are for tossers. There's nothing inheritably wrong with them. In fact they're fantastic machines. They're generally reliable and they have that sleek German efficiency about them. Sure, a few years ago they churned out a few dogs style-wise, but now they're back on track producing some truly fantastic-looking machines.
So why do I think they're for tossers? Because they're the only people who can afford them. And therein lies the problem. All the best cars, the coolest cars, the most powerful cars, usually have someone who you'd rather not talk to for very long behind the wheel. They're the sort of person who always has one of those blu-tooth mobile phone headsets glued to their ears, as if every call is of such importance and urgency that it must be answered right away. They're the sort of person who picks on the most uninteresting topic of conversation imaginable - usually involving themselves - and proceeds to crush you with a torrent of sheer boringness until you can take it no longer and find an excuse to leave. Basically, they're the sort of person you'd only spend time with if they had a nice car.
It's ok for the likes of Ferrari and the other Italian supercar makers. They have that exotic excitement about them that makes them desirable to the common man. Beemer, on the other hand, are too... common. Too run-of-the mill to be an object of desire. It's a shame, really. For years BMW's M series has been the pinnacle of performance and engineering, but no child has a poster of an M5 on their bedroom wall - that's reserved for the Italians. BMW has always stood on the sideline, a rich man's car, but not a rich man's dream car.
Ok, BMW make solid, reliable and boring cars. So what? They always have, right?
Not true.
Tonight I want to show you something, the BMW that dared to be different, a Beemer I'm confident would look right at home on a ten year old's bedroom wall between the Enzo and the Countach. It looks modern, but it came out in 1978. It started the M series of BMWs that performance nuts have grown to love. The BMW M1.
It reminds me of a DeLorean, but unlike its Irish-American competitor the M1 doesn't fall apart when you power it up. Just look at it, sleek supercar lines meld with the traditional BMW split-nose grill to make something both familiar and unique at the same time. The colour of this one is terrible, but if you see a deep-black M1 driving down the main street, you'll be craning your neck until it's out of sight. It was a combination of the best of both worlds, designed by an Italian, engineered by a German.
The car was never hugely successful commercially, and that's probably why it's never been regarded as a classic car in the same way the Ferraris and Lamborghini of the time were. It did however lead BMW down the path of factory-tuned performance cars. The M1 was soon followed by the M3 in 1986 and the M-series as we know it was born.
Anyway, I've raised the M1 from the ashes for a reason! It seems BMW have been bitten by the supercar bug once again, perhaps they were inspired by Audi's fantastic R8, or perhaps they were sick of being the car company for tossers. Either way they've produced a new concept. Sure, it's a computer generated image, but here's to the million-to-one chance that Beemer will believe it's economically viable.
I love that nose. It's got the same sleek styling as the M1, but with a much more aggressive bias. The hooded headlamps and the dark, stretched V-shape grill really give the car a sinister look. Like it could swallow you whole and spit you out the other end in a mangled heap.
And the back:
The aggressive styling continues around the back. Look at those tail-lights! It's like looking into the face of an angry hawk!
Ok, I admit, it looks a bit outlandish, but this is a concept mock-up. Remember the original R8 concept pictures? Expect that garish bonnet-bulge to shrink or disappear, change the colour to black and you have yourself a supercar. It's the M1 on steroids, and BMW should build it. Build it now.
Nothing to see here...
I originally posted this on Myspace blogs, which is rubbish, so I'm reposting it here:
Have you ever written something about nothing? It's a very powerful idea to write about nothing, as it can lead to something, even if it just means you better your writing skills. But can we really write about nothing?
What is the definition of nothing?
Nothing is.... nothing, it's not there, it's an empty space... Aha! But that's something! If you can describe nothing then it really must be something, because how can you possibly describe nothing, it's nothing! Therefore, it's safe to say that my previous statement is not entirely correct, writing about nothing doesn't just lead to an improved grasp of the english language, it leads to something! Because nothing is something!
What are you doing?
Nothing.
Impossible, even if by nothing you mean sitting on the couch staring at a wall, that could be described, therefore it's something! Why one would sit on a couch and stare at a wall is another issue altogether, perhaps you're thinking about something?
Have you ever tried to think about nothing? Impossible you say? Some people claim to have achieved it, they called it 'hypnotising' themselves. It's sort of a state of deep relaxation where the mind focuses on nothing. I tried it and concluded that it's bullshit. I also concluded that the internet must not be trusted. Then again, perhaps I wasn't trying hard enough. It's just that trying to focus on nothing, always leads me to thinking about something, often entirely irrelevant to the topic at hand, which is, well, nothing.
So, is nothing an oxymoron? Since when you describe something as nothing it really doesn't mean that at all, it's something!
That's all the philosophy I've got time for tonight.
In other news:
Tonight's episode of Good News Week proved that Crocodile Hunter jokes are still taboo, give it another decade or so.
Petrol prices are reaching new heights, it is now close to half the price (per litre) of Mt Franklin natural spring water (if you buy it on sale (from a dodgy discount grocery store (in Dubbo))).
Parenthesis is back in fashion (bitches).
Hi-Top sneakers are still not cool, in spite of the 80's resurgence (you look REDICULOUS)
How much your new jacket cost will rarely impress your mates, or your girlfriend, especially when I find the same jacket for 50 bucks less at DFO. And I buy it. And wear it. To spite you.
The Sunday Herald Sun still sucks, and it's $1.80. And people only buy it for the TV guide. Which is crap anyway. Green guide people!
Have you ever written something about nothing? It's a very powerful idea to write about nothing, as it can lead to something, even if it just means you better your writing skills. But can we really write about nothing?
What is the definition of nothing?
Nothing is.... nothing, it's not there, it's an empty space... Aha! But that's something! If you can describe nothing then it really must be something, because how can you possibly describe nothing, it's nothing! Therefore, it's safe to say that my previous statement is not entirely correct, writing about nothing doesn't just lead to an improved grasp of the english language, it leads to something! Because nothing is something!
What are you doing?
Nothing.
Impossible, even if by nothing you mean sitting on the couch staring at a wall, that could be described, therefore it's something! Why one would sit on a couch and stare at a wall is another issue altogether, perhaps you're thinking about something?
Have you ever tried to think about nothing? Impossible you say? Some people claim to have achieved it, they called it 'hypnotising' themselves. It's sort of a state of deep relaxation where the mind focuses on nothing. I tried it and concluded that it's bullshit. I also concluded that the internet must not be trusted. Then again, perhaps I wasn't trying hard enough. It's just that trying to focus on nothing, always leads me to thinking about something, often entirely irrelevant to the topic at hand, which is, well, nothing.
So, is nothing an oxymoron? Since when you describe something as nothing it really doesn't mean that at all, it's something!
That's all the philosophy I've got time for tonight.
In other news:
Tonight's episode of Good News Week proved that Crocodile Hunter jokes are still taboo, give it another decade or so.
Petrol prices are reaching new heights, it is now close to half the price (per litre) of Mt Franklin natural spring water (if you buy it on sale (from a dodgy discount grocery store (in Dubbo))).
Parenthesis is back in fashion (bitches).
Hi-Top sneakers are still not cool, in spite of the 80's resurgence (you look REDICULOUS)
How much your new jacket cost will rarely impress your mates, or your girlfriend, especially when I find the same jacket for 50 bucks less at DFO. And I buy it. And wear it. To spite you.
The Sunday Herald Sun still sucks, and it's $1.80. And people only buy it for the TV guide. Which is crap anyway. Green guide people!
Bloggabout
Well, here we are, a brand new blog all waiting to be filled with blogtacular words of deep meaning and.... stuff.
Really, I'll be commenting on whatever I feel like at the time. Perhaps I'll chuck in a short story or two to mix things up.
Here's a brief summary of me:
I live in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. Important to know as I'll be referring to local news and media from time to time. If you don't know what I'm talking about, well, bad luck.
That's all you need to know for now, you'll learn more about me if I decide to post with some regularity here.
Really, I'll be commenting on whatever I feel like at the time. Perhaps I'll chuck in a short story or two to mix things up.
Here's a brief summary of me:
I live in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. Important to know as I'll be referring to local news and media from time to time. If you don't know what I'm talking about, well, bad luck.
That's all you need to know for now, you'll learn more about me if I decide to post with some regularity here.
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