Ever notice how it's the little things in life that amuse us so much? More to the point, ever notice how it's the silly little idiocies in life that amuse us more than anything else? Well, this is not as much ''the little blog that could'' as it is ''the blog that enjoys going up the down escalator in your local mall.'' Will it have anything of real importance? No, probably not. But enjoy the ride never the less!

 
I've Got Some Skin Cream That Can Clear That Right Up!

Friends of mine recently received the Nightmare on Elm Street DVD box set on loan from friends of theirs. Having seen only two of the movies in this iconic horror series years upon years ago, I decided to start perusing them all. For all two of you out there who have no idea what the premise is, here's a basic idea: Freddy Kruger, a man with very a bad fashion sense who will never become a spokesmodel for Maybelline Cosmetics, chases hapless teenagers around in their dreams and kills them.

Think of a homicidal Martha Stewart (which, given her current woes, may not be a stretch to envision) who's taken a bunch of knives from one of her dining room sets and taped them to her fingers.

After watching the first and third installment of the Nightmare franchise, I must confess it's amazing to sit back and think: "So this is what it's like to ask myself 'why did I ever think this was cool?'" All in all, I was not very impressed. Even a little blase by the end. Perhaps it's because I'm much older and not as easily frightened as I once was. Perhaps it's because I'm jaded from all the other movies I have seen. Perhaps it's because what was such a landmark way back when has become so mainstream it's lost its impact and fear effect.

Or it could in part be that the Nightmare movies aren't all that great.

Small budgets aside, the acting's only half-decent most of the time, and the scripts tend to leave a lot to be desired. Besides, you can only see someone filetted so many times before it gets rather tedious and redundant. There is no real fear to be experienced. You know what's going to happen from the outset. You know the evil/villainous being. You know what's going to happen to everyone, even if it's only in a basic sense without and of the details filled in.

Not knowing is what makes any sort of scary movie worthwhile. Never seeing right away what ominous force is at work is what delivers the best shiver up and down the spine. Being uncertain of what fate awaits everyone else, and never quite knowing when that end is coming or how it will come, makes the shiver an impressive thing. H.P. Lovecraft was right when he once wrote, "The greatest and most powerful emotion of mankind is fear. And the greatest fear is the fear of the unknown."

Although, sometimes an even greater terror can come from knowing too much. For example, I can strike fear into the hearts of almost everyone reading this by stating this simple fact: I'm not wearing any pants right now.

Feel free to scream in terror at your leisure.

Today's Lesson: There are apparently many subtle gradients between alive and dead. Such as: alive; dead, not-quite-dead-yet; undead; sort-of-dead; "dead" dead; living dead; and the ever famous "pining for the fjords" dead.



posted by Phillip at 1:36 PM

 
"A winner is me!"

Through a curious quirk of fate, I have discovered that sometimes it's not what you know, or even what you can fake, but it indeed is who you know. With it more or less being clinched, I am delighted, if not somewhat bewildered to say that I get to be in a feature film that's being shot locally in Kitchener-Waterloo, and parts of Mississauga.

The movie, which is still going through title changes and is currently referred to as Regrets, is a vampire flick, and a sequel to another vampire movie that was shot in the KW area last year. Same cast and crew this time around too. This is where that whole "who you know" thing comes in. The shooting for the first movie took place in one of the bars my good friend and lovable heretic, John, frequents: Club Abstract.

They needed extras for some of the interior shots, which were all being filmed in the afternoon, so John joined in on the fun. Not to mention he's also an Abstractian regular there known by all the bouncers and staff (but in a good way). So John spent roughly 6 hours sitting at a table, drinking orange juice. Why no real alcohol? Well, John might be Irish, but even he couldn't survive 6 hours of straight beer-drinking. Since John had a very distinct look about him, especially with his very long and very naturally curly hair, the director and producers kept in contact with him. And lo and behold, when casting for the sequel was underway, they wanted him to play an Irish priest.

Now I was by no means jealous that John was in a movie and I wasn't. I was more amused that the man practically is an Irish priest, just without the whole ordained thing. But not too long ago, I get a call from him late at night. The conversation went along these lines:

John: "Phil! Sorry to call you this late at night, but I have to ask: are you free tomorrow night?"

Me: "Not doing much of anything then. Why?"

John: "Oh, thank God! The director needed some extra dancers for a scene, and asked if I knew anyone who could help out. We're in desperate need of someone, and you were all I could think of. Want to be a dancer in the movie?"

Me: "Um...what sort of dancing? You know that whenever I try to dance, people claw at their eyes and flee the room."

John: "Oh, I don't know, 17th century dancing or something. We get to fake a waltz of some kind."

Me: ^-^ "Faking a waltz? Now that I can do! Count me in!"

So, I'm a dancer who gets to be in a 17th Century European court. Somehow I've miraculously managed to get 3/4ths of all the moves down thus far and make it look good. The other 1/4th I'm faking superbly, so it's all good.

Now believe me, I was more than content to just be a dancer. I mean, come on! This is all volunteer acting work (from the leads all the way down to the extras), but it's so fun to do, and what are the odds something as unique as this will come my way ever again? (Plus I may get my own codpiece) Me being friendly, I told the director that if she needed anything else from me, I would be happy to help out.

I guess she took my friendly gesture seriously, since now I'm a vamp for the final fight scene. It does work well, since I have somy gymnastics background and can do a few tumbling acts that would otherwise take months of training for anyone else to make look as natural.

Here's the part I still find vastly amusing: I am what's being called a "Disposable Vamp". Disposable Vamps have a life expectancy of 10-15 seconds. Like one of those Red Shit guys in Stark Trek. So, I get to die. And oddly enough, that is what has me more excited than anything else. All my Disposable Vamp comrades are all, "Yeah! Cool! I get to be a vampire!" And here I am going, "Yeah! Cool! I get to have my ass kicked and then I get staked!"

*shrug!* Go figure.

Filming starts in roughly 2 weeks, and I think it kicks off with all the interior club scenes and fight choreography. So July's going to be an interesting month for me. I get to die. I get to dance. I may just get my very own codpiece. A winner is me!


Today's Discovery: for all you Jim Henson buffs out there, if you listen to the song Trip Like I Do from Crystal Method, right at the start you can hear someone retelling the opening monologue from The Dark Crystal.


posted by Phillip at 6:46 AM

 
The Future At The End Of The World

I have held my future in my hands.

Tangibly, physically held it in my hands.

From here on in, everything may very well change in one way or another. It’s a little disconcerting to see your future all packaged up and sitting neatly in a box with a New York address scrawled across it and listed as its point of destination.

Do I honestly know what’s going to happen from here on in? Sadly, no. I have the highest aspirations and darkest doubts about holding my future in my hands. Especially when I consider that it’s about to rest in someone else’s hands, that someone else is going to not so subtly determine the shape and course of my life

Some people will say that the future is what we make of it, that our choices determine our fate. Some people will say that the future has already been determined, and we are simply going through the motions of making this certainty come to pass. Albert Einstein once said, “I don’t think a lot about the future. It comes soon enough.”

Some people are wholly dark and pessimistic about what the future may hold. Some people are filled with vibrant hope at thinking about what the future might have in store for them, and for us all.

I can’t say I’ve got a hope best described as “vibrant”, but I do have hope. I have held the future in my hands, and I think it doesn’t look too bad after all. What remains is for one or two very specific people, and then later on many, many other people, to agree with me.

In the meantime, I have another future to plan around the one that now rests in another’s hands. Sooner or later, though hopefully sooner, they both will entwine and become a single entity. Looking towards the future can be a simple task, and sometimes also a very aggravating one. I’m almost done with the looking aspect. Now comes the really fun part: working towards that future.

I do not know if it’s going to prove all sunshine or mainly clouded in doubts. But I do know that in the end, it’s going to be worth any and all the effort. So here’s to the future. May it surprise me, and those around me, and may most of those surprises be good, fluffy ones.

Today’s Lesson: my future apparently weighs 1.65 kgs


posted by Phillip at 6:48 AM

 
Sitting On The Lap of Luxury

Well, it’s certainly been some time since this little bit of nowhere was last visited, but I have returned, recovered and am starting to get back to some semblance of organization with my life. It seems a bit of a shame that I get to dust this place off with the following thoughts, however.

I came home to discover that the bathroom was now somehow…different. Certainly it has lost its “White Room” status, but that occurred a week or so ago, when colour was once again embraced.

It took me a moment or two to figure out what exactly was new and not-necessarily-improved. Apparently our toilet was upgraded to some sort of luxury status while I was away. The short of it is: our toilet now has armrests.

From what I’ve gathered, this is meant to help any small kids or disabled people who need to use the facilities. However there are certain problems I must now face when answering the call of nature, instead of letting the machine pick it up.

The quandary lies with the whole sitting deal. For the most part, toilets are meant to be sat upon, and the appearance of these armrests has greatly complicated the whole simplistic procedure. You see, whenever I sit down upon any chair that has armrests, my first impulse is to leisurely rest my arms upon the armrests. “Now wait,” some of you might interject at this point, “that’s sounds a little silly, and all that.”

Indeed it does sound silly that I should in fact use the armrests for what they’re there for…until we get to my second impulse. You see, my second impulse is to then lean back and stretch my legs out as far as they can go (I like leg room in any situation). As you can no doubt imagine, the resulting sitting position is rather disastrous whenever a toilet is involved.

There’s a great chance for…breaking the seal, let’s call it, and that can let loose too many unpleasant things I’d rather not get into right about now, especially since I’ve just tried a new sample breakfast of Corn Flakes and chocolate soy milk, and my stomach’s already quite twitchy.

Back to the armrests, it’s probably right around here that some of you are going, “Well, if using the armrests is proving that difficult, why not simply *not* use them?”

I’ve tried that too, but without much success either. I still feel ill at ease whenever I tuck my arms close to my sides and just try to nonchalantly sit there. It almost makes me feel claustrophobic, having those armrests rising up to flank my sides. Not to mention there’s also the question of what to do with my arms at this juncture. As of late, I’ve just sort of sat there looking like some timid, two year-old kid who’s been stuck in a chair four times too big for him.

My porcelain sanctuary has been altered, and I fear that it will now leave some residual scars upon my poor psyche. Whenever I gaze upon a bathroom toilet, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. Years down the road it may very well come to a point where, before I enter any household bathroom, I silently ask myself, “Oh no, do I have to deal with armrests again? Please no armrests this time! Oh please oh please oh please!”

Today’s Lesson: Corn Flakes and chocolate soy milk were not meant to go together. I’m guessing it’s the soy….


posted by Phillip at 6:35 AM