Friday, June 30, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
I just paid eight dollars to walk into a dark room and have Bryan Singer hump my leg for three hours while dressed as Superman. And it was romantic.
Maybe I shouldn't have seen it on just three hours of sleep (thanks, Thursday). It wasn't a bad movie. Every shot looked nice, and there was really nothing wrong with them. Except for the fact that they were nearly all roughly 2.8 seconds too long. Yeah, I could almost measure it precisely. It felt like the couple seconds where, in the editing room, Bryan Singer said, "God, I can't believe I'm directing a Superman movie--okay, cut there."
Or maybe it's just that he's like me, and he's tired of all the spectacle movies these days with hyper-editing that doesn't let you get your bearings. If that's the case, I think he slightly overestimates the poignancy of his silences. But he was clearly in love with making this movie, and that's gotta make you smile. To see somebody so gosh darn in love that way.
I didn't have many significant quibbles;
Every character felt like they had too few lines, and when they had lines, 1/3 of them were clichés. There's actually a hospital scene where someone, at the bedside of a comatose loved one, says, "I don't know if you can hear me." And, you know, I guess it takes a certain amount of guts to put a scene like that in a movie nowadays.
Superman's costume looks abnormally dorky. I couldn't help thinking of Stephen Colbert last night, commenting on how Superman's waistline has gotten progressively lower over the years. This makes for trunks that look like they shrunk in the wash, but maybe I just watch too many old movies.
At one point Lois gets smacked in the head with a metal door with enough force to give Gallagher an erection, but not only does Lois survive, and is merely knocked out, but she comes out of it completely un-bruised. I'm guessing there was a secret clause in Kate Bosworth's contract prohibiting facial disfiguration of any kind.
Speaking of Kate Bosworth, as a performer, no, she's not one tenth the Lois Margot Kidder was. But the kids really go for the glamour of dull these days, so maybe I'm missing out. As a looker, I did kind of dig Bosworth. She has kind of a 40s pinup quality, that's appropriate with the nice, but subtle retro look of the sets and costumes. Personally, I think these things are just put in movies until society remembers that waistcoats are pretty cool, no matter what period you live in. The movie could've used some fedoras, though.
Routh did fine as both Superman and Clark for what few lines he had. It seemed like most of the time he was smiling and nodding. He does a couple things near the end I didn't think Superman would really do, but that's not Routh's fault. He sneaks out of a hospital at one point and I couldn't help thinking, "What a dick!"
Of course Kevin Spacey was great, and I agree with Robyn in that Parker Posey would've made a better Lois.
The best, most important scene in the film, I felt, was when Superman and Lois go flying together. It's at that point that everything about the movie made sense, from the oddly lingering shots, to John Ottman's subdued score in which the John Williams theme sits like the recording of a dead man's voice in the background of a gentle song. Because right there the movie becomes the sensuous romance thing it was straining against its red shorts all movie to become. But where the power in the Richard Donner film lay between Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder, here it's all between Bryan Singer and his cinematographer.
Maybe I shouldn't have seen it on just three hours of sleep (thanks, Thursday). It wasn't a bad movie. Every shot looked nice, and there was really nothing wrong with them. Except for the fact that they were nearly all roughly 2.8 seconds too long. Yeah, I could almost measure it precisely. It felt like the couple seconds where, in the editing room, Bryan Singer said, "God, I can't believe I'm directing a Superman movie--okay, cut there."
Or maybe it's just that he's like me, and he's tired of all the spectacle movies these days with hyper-editing that doesn't let you get your bearings. If that's the case, I think he slightly overestimates the poignancy of his silences. But he was clearly in love with making this movie, and that's gotta make you smile. To see somebody so gosh darn in love that way.
I didn't have many significant quibbles;
Every character felt like they had too few lines, and when they had lines, 1/3 of them were clichés. There's actually a hospital scene where someone, at the bedside of a comatose loved one, says, "I don't know if you can hear me." And, you know, I guess it takes a certain amount of guts to put a scene like that in a movie nowadays.
Superman's costume looks abnormally dorky. I couldn't help thinking of Stephen Colbert last night, commenting on how Superman's waistline has gotten progressively lower over the years. This makes for trunks that look like they shrunk in the wash, but maybe I just watch too many old movies.
At one point Lois gets smacked in the head with a metal door with enough force to give Gallagher an erection, but not only does Lois survive, and is merely knocked out, but she comes out of it completely un-bruised. I'm guessing there was a secret clause in Kate Bosworth's contract prohibiting facial disfiguration of any kind.
Speaking of Kate Bosworth, as a performer, no, she's not one tenth the Lois Margot Kidder was. But the kids really go for the glamour of dull these days, so maybe I'm missing out. As a looker, I did kind of dig Bosworth. She has kind of a 40s pinup quality, that's appropriate with the nice, but subtle retro look of the sets and costumes. Personally, I think these things are just put in movies until society remembers that waistcoats are pretty cool, no matter what period you live in. The movie could've used some fedoras, though.
Routh did fine as both Superman and Clark for what few lines he had. It seemed like most of the time he was smiling and nodding. He does a couple things near the end I didn't think Superman would really do, but that's not Routh's fault. He sneaks out of a hospital at one point and I couldn't help thinking, "What a dick!"
Of course Kevin Spacey was great, and I agree with Robyn in that Parker Posey would've made a better Lois.
The best, most important scene in the film, I felt, was when Superman and Lois go flying together. It's at that point that everything about the movie made sense, from the oddly lingering shots, to John Ottman's subdued score in which the John Williams theme sits like the recording of a dead man's voice in the background of a gentle song. Because right there the movie becomes the sensuous romance thing it was straining against its red shorts all movie to become. But where the power in the Richard Donner film lay between Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder, here it's all between Bryan Singer and his cinematographer.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
By 5am this morning, I couldn't believe how much I'd fit into my waking hours. Not only did I pencil two Boschen and Nesuko pages, and ink three, I also fooled around with YouTube, watched an episode of School Rumble, an episode of another anime series called The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya (which, two episodes in, has been rather impressive), and had gone for a longish walk.
There's this ravine next to the house with a couple lake-like bodies of water, lots of green trees with drooping branches, and a general, almost bog like atmosphere of insects and mud, crazily mixed with dry swathes of dirt, and overrun with rabbits. I take a route through there regularly when I walk to Starbucks or Tacos mi Pueblo or the bank. The area's usually swarming with rabbits--they're almost like a disrupted anthill. But last night there was also a peculiar abundance of alligator lizards and at one point, I saw a crayfish walking across the dirt road. It was a tiny dark shape in the corner of my eye, moving in slow motion on its skinny legs before I realised what it was. I guess he was crossing from one lake to another, or maybe some kid left him there. He froze when he saw me, and I knelt to stare at him awhile.
Come to think of it, is it normal for a crayfish to decide he wants to cross a dry dusty road? It seems damn peculiar to me.
There's this ravine next to the house with a couple lake-like bodies of water, lots of green trees with drooping branches, and a general, almost bog like atmosphere of insects and mud, crazily mixed with dry swathes of dirt, and overrun with rabbits. I take a route through there regularly when I walk to Starbucks or Tacos mi Pueblo or the bank. The area's usually swarming with rabbits--they're almost like a disrupted anthill. But last night there was also a peculiar abundance of alligator lizards and at one point, I saw a crayfish walking across the dirt road. It was a tiny dark shape in the corner of my eye, moving in slow motion on its skinny legs before I realised what it was. I guess he was crossing from one lake to another, or maybe some kid left him there. He froze when he saw me, and I knelt to stare at him awhile.
Come to think of it, is it normal for a crayfish to decide he wants to cross a dry dusty road? It seems damn peculiar to me.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Ever get the feeling there's a little phantom or something working against you? I guess it began a couple days ago when I was eating breakfast and the power went out for maybe ten seconds. I went outside and checked the fuses, to see if some kid had been messing with them. I didn't see anyone.
Later, as I was colouring a Boschen and Nesuko page, Paint Shop Pro, the programme I use to colour, closed. For no apparent reason--it didn't ask me if I wanted to save my work, either, as usually happens when any programme closes. It was just gone. I'd never had that happen to me before.
I was getting this strange fatigue that made it extremely hard to concentrate. I wasn't tired, I was just sort of smooshed. And after that came one of the really bad headaches. Monday it kept me awake for hours after I normally fall asleep. It was like sleep deprivation torture--I was absolutely tired enough to sleep, but my brain wouldn't have it.
So I've begun to wonder if all these problems could possibly be related. Maybe there's some kind of radiation anomaly around here? I don't know. I'm about a page and a half behind on Boschen and Nesuko, partly because of these goings-on. The past couple nights I go until I feel like I can't trust my pen to draw straight, and then I've been watching an anime series Tim gave me twenty-something episodes of called School Rumble.
It's a decent anime. I found the animation and designs in the first couple episodes to be adequate, and the characterisations and writing to be good enough to keep watching. It gets better as it goes. It's extremely cute, though it sometimes makes me look back longingly at Maison Ikkoku, which managed a lot of the same teen-romance humour without having to rely on the characters being unrealistically stupid. In fact, I've noticed School Rumble directly lifting a bit or two from Maison Ikkoku, including a scene where the characters are all sleeping on the floor, and the male characters are fervently trying to "accidentally" fall asleep next to their respective crushes.
I'm starting to think certain kinds of scenes have just become traditional in anime and manga, though. Like the bath house scene where the guys are constantly trying to peek at the girls' side (my favourite's still the Ranma 1/2 where lecherous little old man Happosai engages in full-blown martial arts combat in a bath house with Ranma, a boy who turns into a girl when splashed with cold water, and back into a boy when splashed with warm water), or the girl nervously cooking for a boy scene.
One of the things I've liked most about School Rumble so far is actually the subtitles. It's a fan-sub, in this case by a group called Wannabe Fansubs, which tend to be far superior to the subtitles on DVDs, and in this case the translators go several extra miles by providing footnotes for cultural references and to explain untranslatable jokes. For example, in one scene where the characters are at a beach, Nara, a young man who has a crush on a girl named Tenma, has his back turned when Tenma cries out, "Bathing suit lost!" In English, this sounds like peculiar grammar, but the footnote helpfully explains that it's very common in Japanese for the subject to be omitted altogether--in fact, it would have been grammatically peculiar for Tenma to include it. So it's perfectly natural for Nara to think Tenma's lost her suit, and the resulting punch-line of him finding the bathing suit of Harima, another male student, instead, makes sense.
I think people tend to underestimate the role a translator plays. For commercial anime, where the studios prefer there be little or no footnotes, the task of the translators requires creativity equivalent to writing a whole new script, and then some. That's one of the reasons Princess Mononoke's English dub version is to this day the only anime English dub I can tolerate--because Neil Gaiman wrote a great script for it. It's too bad a screenwriter of similar calibre wasn't brought in for Howl's Moving Castle, the English dub of which I really want to like for the presence of Christian Bale, Lauren Bacall, and Jean Simmons. As it is, Jean Simmons' performance is still outstanding.
Later, as I was colouring a Boschen and Nesuko page, Paint Shop Pro, the programme I use to colour, closed. For no apparent reason--it didn't ask me if I wanted to save my work, either, as usually happens when any programme closes. It was just gone. I'd never had that happen to me before.
I was getting this strange fatigue that made it extremely hard to concentrate. I wasn't tired, I was just sort of smooshed. And after that came one of the really bad headaches. Monday it kept me awake for hours after I normally fall asleep. It was like sleep deprivation torture--I was absolutely tired enough to sleep, but my brain wouldn't have it.
So I've begun to wonder if all these problems could possibly be related. Maybe there's some kind of radiation anomaly around here? I don't know. I'm about a page and a half behind on Boschen and Nesuko, partly because of these goings-on. The past couple nights I go until I feel like I can't trust my pen to draw straight, and then I've been watching an anime series Tim gave me twenty-something episodes of called School Rumble.
It's a decent anime. I found the animation and designs in the first couple episodes to be adequate, and the characterisations and writing to be good enough to keep watching. It gets better as it goes. It's extremely cute, though it sometimes makes me look back longingly at Maison Ikkoku, which managed a lot of the same teen-romance humour without having to rely on the characters being unrealistically stupid. In fact, I've noticed School Rumble directly lifting a bit or two from Maison Ikkoku, including a scene where the characters are all sleeping on the floor, and the male characters are fervently trying to "accidentally" fall asleep next to their respective crushes.
I'm starting to think certain kinds of scenes have just become traditional in anime and manga, though. Like the bath house scene where the guys are constantly trying to peek at the girls' side (my favourite's still the Ranma 1/2 where lecherous little old man Happosai engages in full-blown martial arts combat in a bath house with Ranma, a boy who turns into a girl when splashed with cold water, and back into a boy when splashed with warm water), or the girl nervously cooking for a boy scene.
One of the things I've liked most about School Rumble so far is actually the subtitles. It's a fan-sub, in this case by a group called Wannabe Fansubs, which tend to be far superior to the subtitles on DVDs, and in this case the translators go several extra miles by providing footnotes for cultural references and to explain untranslatable jokes. For example, in one scene where the characters are at a beach, Nara, a young man who has a crush on a girl named Tenma, has his back turned when Tenma cries out, "Bathing suit lost!" In English, this sounds like peculiar grammar, but the footnote helpfully explains that it's very common in Japanese for the subject to be omitted altogether--in fact, it would have been grammatically peculiar for Tenma to include it. So it's perfectly natural for Nara to think Tenma's lost her suit, and the resulting punch-line of him finding the bathing suit of Harima, another male student, instead, makes sense.
I think people tend to underestimate the role a translator plays. For commercial anime, where the studios prefer there be little or no footnotes, the task of the translators requires creativity equivalent to writing a whole new script, and then some. That's one of the reasons Princess Mononoke's English dub version is to this day the only anime English dub I can tolerate--because Neil Gaiman wrote a great script for it. It's too bad a screenwriter of similar calibre wasn't brought in for Howl's Moving Castle, the English dub of which I really want to like for the presence of Christian Bale, Lauren Bacall, and Jean Simmons. As it is, Jean Simmons' performance is still outstanding.
To-day's Robyn's birthday. We pause on this day to remember the ink demons of the Galapagos Islands, who were torn from their subterranean abodes by the amazing, 70 foot "Spruce Robyn", Howard Hughes' secret machine of war. The tiny demon souls were placed in a simple, rock bowl known as a "mortar" and crushed into a powder with what is known as a "pestle".
Released into the winds on an auspicious day in northern Russia, the resulting dust mingled with transatlantic gales before spontaneously reforming in the White House on one June 27th, at daybreak.
Most minds have been cleansed of those memories relating to the brief reign of America by Casper the Dead Baby King, who was vanquished by Robyn within hours of her birth with the help of Nightcrawler and Henry Fonda.
One of America's greatest heroines, nicknamed "Robyn Ma" after she used her mighty telekinetic powers to overturn the twin 80 exalitre jugs of Massachusetts to irrigate the secret 1980s dustbowl, she nonetheless to-day lives anonymously amongst the people she saved, due to the cruel mass-mind-wiping perpetrated by Robo-Tommy Lee Jones.
But the heroine remains yet a heroine, for while brains may wash clean as Etch A-Sketch in the waves of God's boring shore, the heart is a thing of clogable arteries, wherein the blood and the spirit may remain steadfast. Such a heart is not Robyn's, no. Her heart burns independently with the pure fire of ghosts! The echoing voices of tropical demon souls resound back to us as the song of hope as Robyn handles books that some people turn in way past due, and get angry at her for some reason.
The perplexing riddle of this world is a mug of boiling liquid cellophane, pondered by the smiling Buddhas eternally sitting on Robyn's shoulders. Keep your vigil, Buddha Fairies, and fight on, Robyn Ma! Fight on!
Released into the winds on an auspicious day in northern Russia, the resulting dust mingled with transatlantic gales before spontaneously reforming in the White House on one June 27th, at daybreak.
Most minds have been cleansed of those memories relating to the brief reign of America by Casper the Dead Baby King, who was vanquished by Robyn within hours of her birth with the help of Nightcrawler and Henry Fonda.
One of America's greatest heroines, nicknamed "Robyn Ma" after she used her mighty telekinetic powers to overturn the twin 80 exalitre jugs of Massachusetts to irrigate the secret 1980s dustbowl, she nonetheless to-day lives anonymously amongst the people she saved, due to the cruel mass-mind-wiping perpetrated by Robo-Tommy Lee Jones.
But the heroine remains yet a heroine, for while brains may wash clean as Etch A-Sketch in the waves of God's boring shore, the heart is a thing of clogable arteries, wherein the blood and the spirit may remain steadfast. Such a heart is not Robyn's, no. Her heart burns independently with the pure fire of ghosts! The echoing voices of tropical demon souls resound back to us as the song of hope as Robyn handles books that some people turn in way past due, and get angry at her for some reason.
The perplexing riddle of this world is a mug of boiling liquid cellophane, pondered by the smiling Buddhas eternally sitting on Robyn's shoulders. Keep your vigil, Buddha Fairies, and fight on, Robyn Ma! Fight on!
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Last night, as I was trying to decide what movie to watch, I saw that Sonya had expressed random approval of Jeremy Brett. So in honour of her, I guess, because she'd mentioned recently enjoying a production of An Ideal Husband, I decided to watch an old BBC production I had on DVD that I hadn't managed to watch yet.
And the first thing on screen--a complete surprise to me--was a very young Jeremy Brett playing Arthur Goring. Life's weird sometimes.
He did a perfect job, too. And the production was nice, being a bare-bones adaptation with very good actors. The only other filmed version of the play I've seen was the extensively monkeyed-with Oliver Parker version. As much as I like most of the actors in that movie, nearly every character was better cast in the production with Jeremy Brett. It was nice to see Lady Chiltern and Mrs. Cheveley being played by women who looked to be in their early fifties. It's so rare now to see women who really look that age to be cast in leading, dramatic roles. It was very refreshing. And the fellow playing Robert Chiltern had the proper self-assurance at the beginning to be plucked down from later. A good production all around.
I haven't too much else to say to-day, so I'll leave you with some videos I've been wanting to share for a long time, and now my recent discover of YouTube has finally afforded me the opportunity:
If there be any part of your soul what can be called geek, your heart will thrill at the sight of the famous Daicon videos.
In the first chapter, our child heroine's goal of legume planting cannot be foiled by U.S.S. Enterprise or Gamera.
And in the second chapter, our heroine, grown up and sexy, must face Darth Vader and snub Spider-Man.
Keep in mind those videos were made by GAINAX before they were even a real studio--they were just a few Sci-Fi/Fantasy fans.
Oh, to be a Japanese geek in the 80s.
Lastly, you ought also to watch the ultimate Azumanga Daio Lord of the Rings parody.
And the first thing on screen--a complete surprise to me--was a very young Jeremy Brett playing Arthur Goring. Life's weird sometimes.
He did a perfect job, too. And the production was nice, being a bare-bones adaptation with very good actors. The only other filmed version of the play I've seen was the extensively monkeyed-with Oliver Parker version. As much as I like most of the actors in that movie, nearly every character was better cast in the production with Jeremy Brett. It was nice to see Lady Chiltern and Mrs. Cheveley being played by women who looked to be in their early fifties. It's so rare now to see women who really look that age to be cast in leading, dramatic roles. It was very refreshing. And the fellow playing Robert Chiltern had the proper self-assurance at the beginning to be plucked down from later. A good production all around.
I haven't too much else to say to-day, so I'll leave you with some videos I've been wanting to share for a long time, and now my recent discover of YouTube has finally afforded me the opportunity:
If there be any part of your soul what can be called geek, your heart will thrill at the sight of the famous Daicon videos.
In the first chapter, our child heroine's goal of legume planting cannot be foiled by U.S.S. Enterprise or Gamera.
And in the second chapter, our heroine, grown up and sexy, must face Darth Vader and snub Spider-Man.
Keep in mind those videos were made by GAINAX before they were even a real studio--they were just a few Sci-Fi/Fantasy fans.
Oh, to be a Japanese geek in the 80s.
Lastly, you ought also to watch the ultimate Azumanga Daio Lord of the Rings parody.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
I rather unexpectedly spent forty dollars yesterday. I bought a new pencil sharpener and a copy of Superman: The Movie.
Why don't we have movies called "*: The Movie" anymore? Why not The Da Vinci Code: The Movie, Munich: The Movie, or An Inconvenient Truth: The Movie?
I have to admit to being somewhat under-whelmed by Superman: The Movie. I guess since most articles about Superman Returns go out of their way to mention that the Richard Donner original is the ultimate comic-book movie, not to be besmirched in even a sidelong manner, my expectations were raised. I hadn't seen it since I was a kid, so it was practically like seeing it for the first time.
And don't get me wrong; I liked it okay, and all. I liked the John Ford-ish cinematography in the Smallville sequences, though teen Clark Kent bore not the smallest resemblance to Christopher Reeve. I was interested to see that Jackie Cooper as Perry White had grown from being an excruciatingly annoying child actor to a barely noticeable bit player. I guess that's progress.
I enjoyed the crystalline art direction of Krypton, and I was charmed by how extraordinarily dated the movie looked. Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder were good, and I revelled in how uncomfortable I felt during Lois's voice over poem while she's flying with Superman (I'm just that kind of masochist sometimes). The imperilled helicopter sequence was still fairly intense. But I have to admit I'm really looking forward to the better special effects of the new movie.
I guess my only real problem with Superman: The Movie is Superman turning back time by reversing the rotation of Earth. It's not that I mind bad science in a movie. That's fine, if it suits the story. But it too obviously begs the question; why doesn't he go back and save his father? Or simply go back far enough to stop Lex Luthor before he can get started with his plot?
Well, it was a decent evening, anyway. And it was only ten dollars. The big purchase was the thirty dollar pencil sharpener, but damn I needed one. Ever since my last electric pencil sharpener jammed, and I was unable to fix it despite taking it completely apart, I've been having to make do with a pokey little purple thing I must have gotten with a little stationary set in third grade. I couldn't even find another like it at Target; all pencil sharpeners are electric now.
A good pencil sharpener makes me happy. I was getting frustrated with the little one, which didn't so much make a point out of the pencil tip as it made a tiny mallet. It's kind of funny I put so much energy into it when all anyone ever sees is the inked page. We'll, here's the pencil version of a page;
I've been using these Design 3800 pencils. I start with a 2H, and then do details with 6B. I still don't know what those numbers and letters mean, but the 6B is a lot darker, and so I can make the mess you see above. As you can see by comparing the two images above, I often even make last minute dialogue changes between pencilling and inking. I even repositioned a word balloon in this case.
I've noticed a lot of web comics, whose pages are done only in pencil, seem to make a point of allowing the work lines to show through. Some people seem to really like "shown work" in the finished art, which has always sort of perplexed me. I mean, if the drawing wasn't drawn in the first place, how else could it have come into existence? And if you need to see the process of creation as you read, doesn't that mean you're less interested in the story than you ought to be? I don't know. I don't want to cast aspersions on people who dig that sort of thing, really. I'm just saying I don't get it.
Anyway, this entry's gone on long enough, I guess . . .
Why don't we have movies called "*: The Movie" anymore? Why not The Da Vinci Code: The Movie, Munich: The Movie, or An Inconvenient Truth: The Movie?
I have to admit to being somewhat under-whelmed by Superman: The Movie. I guess since most articles about Superman Returns go out of their way to mention that the Richard Donner original is the ultimate comic-book movie, not to be besmirched in even a sidelong manner, my expectations were raised. I hadn't seen it since I was a kid, so it was practically like seeing it for the first time.
And don't get me wrong; I liked it okay, and all. I liked the John Ford-ish cinematography in the Smallville sequences, though teen Clark Kent bore not the smallest resemblance to Christopher Reeve. I was interested to see that Jackie Cooper as Perry White had grown from being an excruciatingly annoying child actor to a barely noticeable bit player. I guess that's progress.
I enjoyed the crystalline art direction of Krypton, and I was charmed by how extraordinarily dated the movie looked. Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder were good, and I revelled in how uncomfortable I felt during Lois's voice over poem while she's flying with Superman (I'm just that kind of masochist sometimes). The imperilled helicopter sequence was still fairly intense. But I have to admit I'm really looking forward to the better special effects of the new movie.
I guess my only real problem with Superman: The Movie is Superman turning back time by reversing the rotation of Earth. It's not that I mind bad science in a movie. That's fine, if it suits the story. But it too obviously begs the question; why doesn't he go back and save his father? Or simply go back far enough to stop Lex Luthor before he can get started with his plot?
Well, it was a decent evening, anyway. And it was only ten dollars. The big purchase was the thirty dollar pencil sharpener, but damn I needed one. Ever since my last electric pencil sharpener jammed, and I was unable to fix it despite taking it completely apart, I've been having to make do with a pokey little purple thing I must have gotten with a little stationary set in third grade. I couldn't even find another like it at Target; all pencil sharpeners are electric now.
A good pencil sharpener makes me happy. I was getting frustrated with the little one, which didn't so much make a point out of the pencil tip as it made a tiny mallet. It's kind of funny I put so much energy into it when all anyone ever sees is the inked page. We'll, here's the pencil version of a page;
I've been using these Design 3800 pencils. I start with a 2H, and then do details with 6B. I still don't know what those numbers and letters mean, but the 6B is a lot darker, and so I can make the mess you see above. As you can see by comparing the two images above, I often even make last minute dialogue changes between pencilling and inking. I even repositioned a word balloon in this case.
I've noticed a lot of web comics, whose pages are done only in pencil, seem to make a point of allowing the work lines to show through. Some people seem to really like "shown work" in the finished art, which has always sort of perplexed me. I mean, if the drawing wasn't drawn in the first place, how else could it have come into existence? And if you need to see the process of creation as you read, doesn't that mean you're less interested in the story than you ought to be? I don't know. I don't want to cast aspersions on people who dig that sort of thing, really. I'm just saying I don't get it.
Anyway, this entry's gone on long enough, I guess . . .
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Buffoons of the news media can't get over the fact that the Dixie Chicks don't like Bush (never mind that their criticisms aren't very remarkable). Bruce Springsteen's talked smack about El Presidente. And Neil Young's released a whole album about this administration's foul policies.
But it wasn't on until to-day. And you know why?
'Cause now Burt Bacharach is pissed.
If I were Bush--a version of Bush who could use a computer, anyway--I'd think this would have to put me over the edge. It'd be like seeing Santa Claus go on television and saying that not only was I a bad boy this year, I was forever irredeemable in his eyes. Certainly Bush deserves that and worse.
My sister's put me in charge of her fish while she's on vacation. It's a beta called Dharma, and I'm not sure I'm taking care of her properly. I give her a pinch of food twice a day, and she seems happy enough. But her tiny life seems so precarious somehow . . .
I haven't much else to say right now, so here's video of Billie Holiday singing "Strange Fruit".
But it wasn't on until to-day. And you know why?
'Cause now Burt Bacharach is pissed.
If I were Bush--a version of Bush who could use a computer, anyway--I'd think this would have to put me over the edge. It'd be like seeing Santa Claus go on television and saying that not only was I a bad boy this year, I was forever irredeemable in his eyes. Certainly Bush deserves that and worse.
My sister's put me in charge of her fish while she's on vacation. It's a beta called Dharma, and I'm not sure I'm taking care of her properly. I give her a pinch of food twice a day, and she seems happy enough. But her tiny life seems so precarious somehow . . .
I haven't much else to say right now, so here's video of Billie Holiday singing "Strange Fruit".
Friday, June 16, 2006
The new Boschen and Nesuko chapter's online. Early, I guess, since I had to get up at 11am to-day. It's amazing what one can do with merely four hours of sleep, oatmeal, and coffee.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
The light bulb in the ceiling fan burned out on Monday. So I put in this new curly one that looks like a bee-stung albino pig's tail that's supposed to last for years. It burned out yesterday.
Light bulbs are constantly burning out here. Maybe I'm putting them in wrong. It doesn't bother me too much. All I really need is the desk lamp. I don't usually have the lights on at all when I colour.
I've been quite on the ball with Boschen and Nesuko this fortnight, which is nice after the last one, where I got a bit behind at one point. Actually, my whole focus is a lot sharper with this chapter, I think, in part, because it's a lot more challenging for me.
But I've been getting done as early as 12:30am or so (I usually get started at around 4:30pm). I'd probably get done even earlier if I didn't have The Daily Show and The Colbert Report on from 11pm to midnight. Mostly I've just been listening to music for this chapter; Kate Bush, Ani DiFranco, Elvis Costello, The Dresden Dolls, Charlie Parker, Nine Inch Nails . . .
Yesterday I had Celebrity Poker on until Jennifer Tilly lost, at which point there wasn't much point, as I didn't care about Fred Savage and Ida What's-Her-Name. Tilly was the draw, being a slightly drink, slightly underdressed talkative lady; "My boobs are hanging out! I'm cute . . . I need another drink." And the poker expert commentator; "Jennifer's using a technique to work the crowd, to get some energy going."
I guess it's Thursday, so I have to go. I really want to go back to sleep; I only got four hours. But drat, I can't . . .
Light bulbs are constantly burning out here. Maybe I'm putting them in wrong. It doesn't bother me too much. All I really need is the desk lamp. I don't usually have the lights on at all when I colour.
I've been quite on the ball with Boschen and Nesuko this fortnight, which is nice after the last one, where I got a bit behind at one point. Actually, my whole focus is a lot sharper with this chapter, I think, in part, because it's a lot more challenging for me.
But I've been getting done as early as 12:30am or so (I usually get started at around 4:30pm). I'd probably get done even earlier if I didn't have The Daily Show and The Colbert Report on from 11pm to midnight. Mostly I've just been listening to music for this chapter; Kate Bush, Ani DiFranco, Elvis Costello, The Dresden Dolls, Charlie Parker, Nine Inch Nails . . .
Yesterday I had Celebrity Poker on until Jennifer Tilly lost, at which point there wasn't much point, as I didn't care about Fred Savage and Ida What's-Her-Name. Tilly was the draw, being a slightly drink, slightly underdressed talkative lady; "My boobs are hanging out! I'm cute . . . I need another drink." And the poker expert commentator; "Jennifer's using a technique to work the crowd, to get some energy going."
I guess it's Thursday, so I have to go. I really want to go back to sleep; I only got four hours. But drat, I can't . . .
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
I very much want to see Terry Gilliam's Tideland (check out its extremely impressive website). I can't seem to find U.S. release dates, though. Have the suits found a new way to fuck Gilliam over?
Charting movies I've viewed over the past couple weeks is a decent way of mapping my state of mind. I watched The Hidden Fortress for the second time since I got it on DVD a while ago, and for a while I badly wanted to just watch other movies like it, except I couldn't think of any. That has gotta be one of the most persistently engrossing movies in history.
So I then watched Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, figuring it was another movie about a ragtag group of adventurers on a dangerous journey through strange lands. But my mind kept wandering. It wasn't quite the same, as much as I do love that movie.
Notorious worked much better. There's something rich about every moment in that movie. Every line a character says has a kind of lush depth that seems to get better every time I watch.
Then, a few nights ago, I caught some footage on MSNBC of men in Central Park stopping female passers-by in broad daylight, tearing off their clothes and fondling them, while a large visible group of bystanders did nothing. These bystanders were made up of ordinary-looking men and women of various ages. The reporter's voice-over had that casual, another-normal-piece-of-news tone to it. But it had quite an effect on me. I kept thinking about how this was a normal sampling of humanity, that most of the people I see walking around downtown, who I have faith in to have a certain underlying degree of concern for their fellow man, have absolutely none, and are merely behaving as they do because it's proscribed by the invisible, omnipresent public eye.
And, yeah, call me naïve, but I do tend to settle into a state of mind that regards these people as wanting nothing more than to be happy without harming others. Maybe I have to think that way so a note of anger doesn't creep into my voice when I interact with them. That MSNBC video really starkly brought home to me that the vast majority of people out there really don't have a mind of their own.
I thought about the characters Tahei and Matakishi in The Hidden Fortress. They're small minded people, their focus entirely on hiding from danger and scraping whatever riches they can from the dirt. It's made clear they wouldn't hesitate to rape Princess Yuki if they had the chance. And yet much of the movie is told from their point of view. I guess Kurosawa knew what "common" really meant, and that nobility really is rare.
Anyway, so then I watched Taxi Driver.
Charting movies I've viewed over the past couple weeks is a decent way of mapping my state of mind. I watched The Hidden Fortress for the second time since I got it on DVD a while ago, and for a while I badly wanted to just watch other movies like it, except I couldn't think of any. That has gotta be one of the most persistently engrossing movies in history.
So I then watched Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, figuring it was another movie about a ragtag group of adventurers on a dangerous journey through strange lands. But my mind kept wandering. It wasn't quite the same, as much as I do love that movie.
Notorious worked much better. There's something rich about every moment in that movie. Every line a character says has a kind of lush depth that seems to get better every time I watch.
Then, a few nights ago, I caught some footage on MSNBC of men in Central Park stopping female passers-by in broad daylight, tearing off their clothes and fondling them, while a large visible group of bystanders did nothing. These bystanders were made up of ordinary-looking men and women of various ages. The reporter's voice-over had that casual, another-normal-piece-of-news tone to it. But it had quite an effect on me. I kept thinking about how this was a normal sampling of humanity, that most of the people I see walking around downtown, who I have faith in to have a certain underlying degree of concern for their fellow man, have absolutely none, and are merely behaving as they do because it's proscribed by the invisible, omnipresent public eye.
And, yeah, call me naïve, but I do tend to settle into a state of mind that regards these people as wanting nothing more than to be happy without harming others. Maybe I have to think that way so a note of anger doesn't creep into my voice when I interact with them. That MSNBC video really starkly brought home to me that the vast majority of people out there really don't have a mind of their own.
I thought about the characters Tahei and Matakishi in The Hidden Fortress. They're small minded people, their focus entirely on hiding from danger and scraping whatever riches they can from the dirt. It's made clear they wouldn't hesitate to rape Princess Yuki if they had the chance. And yet much of the movie is told from their point of view. I guess Kurosawa knew what "common" really meant, and that nobility really is rare.
Anyway, so then I watched Taxi Driver.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
I was finally able to see The Proposition yesterday. I'm glad I did. As Caitlin noted, it's a good movie to see on a big screen, as it's filled with beautiful wide shots of Australian wilderness. Both beautiful and desolate.
I was reminded a bit of Ran, as the movie portrayed humanity as doomed to an existence steeped in violent and unjust death. I was also reminded a bit of the War on Terror, and I almost wonder if it was in Nick Cave's mind as he wrote the screenplay. Because the movie's about a brutally violent family, who commit terrible crimes for little or no reason, and set against them is a "civilisation" composed of corruption, innocent viciousness, and idealism, in some cases misguided, in others dashed.
Guy Pierce in the movie reminded me of a quieter, more sombre version of Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name from the Sergio Leone trilogy. And by the end, the "outsider" character seems an acute part of a statement about the relevance of justice without society or family. The movie does an excellent job of illuminating this. Anyway, I highly recommend it.
I didn't think I was going to be able to see it in a theatre. A couple weeks ago, it'd been playing only at the Ken, which only has one screen. I got caught up in Boschen and Nesuko and hanging out with Trisa, and by the time I was done, the movie'd gone. But Thursday I was surprised to find it opening Friday at two mainstream cinemas; at Mission Valley Mall and Horton Plaza Mall. Both cinemas normally show safely homogenised fare. The guy I bought my ticket from didn't even understand me at first when I said "One for The Proposition." I was one of only six people in the theatre. Another of us, a large black man with a cane and a timid voice, walked up to me after I'd sat down and asked, "What's this movie about?"
I tried to explain as best I could, "Uh, it's an Australian Western . . . Written by Nick Cave--a talented musician . . ." Because the guy seemed so meek, I felt compelled to add, "It's extremely violent. From what I hear."
"But it's in English?" he asked.
"Er, yeah; it's Australian."
I'm not sure the guy really needed a cane, though, because he literally ran out of the theatre at one point during the movie. He ran back in a few minutes later, though, so I guess he just went to use the restroom and was in fact really digging the movie.
I was reminded a bit of Ran, as the movie portrayed humanity as doomed to an existence steeped in violent and unjust death. I was also reminded a bit of the War on Terror, and I almost wonder if it was in Nick Cave's mind as he wrote the screenplay. Because the movie's about a brutally violent family, who commit terrible crimes for little or no reason, and set against them is a "civilisation" composed of corruption, innocent viciousness, and idealism, in some cases misguided, in others dashed.
Guy Pierce in the movie reminded me of a quieter, more sombre version of Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name from the Sergio Leone trilogy. And by the end, the "outsider" character seems an acute part of a statement about the relevance of justice without society or family. The movie does an excellent job of illuminating this. Anyway, I highly recommend it.
I didn't think I was going to be able to see it in a theatre. A couple weeks ago, it'd been playing only at the Ken, which only has one screen. I got caught up in Boschen and Nesuko and hanging out with Trisa, and by the time I was done, the movie'd gone. But Thursday I was surprised to find it opening Friday at two mainstream cinemas; at Mission Valley Mall and Horton Plaza Mall. Both cinemas normally show safely homogenised fare. The guy I bought my ticket from didn't even understand me at first when I said "One for The Proposition." I was one of only six people in the theatre. Another of us, a large black man with a cane and a timid voice, walked up to me after I'd sat down and asked, "What's this movie about?"
I tried to explain as best I could, "Uh, it's an Australian Western . . . Written by Nick Cave--a talented musician . . ." Because the guy seemed so meek, I felt compelled to add, "It's extremely violent. From what I hear."
"But it's in English?" he asked.
"Er, yeah; it's Australian."
I'm not sure the guy really needed a cane, though, because he literally ran out of the theatre at one point during the movie. He ran back in a few minutes later, though, so I guess he just went to use the restroom and was in fact really digging the movie.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
I love Crooks and Liars.
This morning on that site, I saw this clip of Jack Cafferty on CNN's The Situation Room calling Senator Arlen Specter a "gutless Republican worm" for passing the buck on the NSA programme to Dick Cheney of all people instead of exercising the requisite congressional oversight.
Then, later to-day, Crooks and Liars had this clip of Arlen Specter appearing on The Situation Room after to-day writing an angry letter to Cheney in which he--he, Republican chairmen--refers to the NSA programme as having broken the law. At the end, Specter praised The Situation Room.
It's nice to see that Fox News isn't the only influential news channel in D.C. Now if they can just corral Lou Dobbs . . .
It seems Arlen Specter isn't a gutless Republican worm. Just a selfish one, as the impetus here seems to be that Cheney made the deal with Orrin Hatch and not Specter.
This morning on that site, I saw this clip of Jack Cafferty on CNN's The Situation Room calling Senator Arlen Specter a "gutless Republican worm" for passing the buck on the NSA programme to Dick Cheney of all people instead of exercising the requisite congressional oversight.
Then, later to-day, Crooks and Liars had this clip of Arlen Specter appearing on The Situation Room after to-day writing an angry letter to Cheney in which he--he, Republican chairmen--refers to the NSA programme as having broken the law. At the end, Specter praised The Situation Room.
It's nice to see that Fox News isn't the only influential news channel in D.C. Now if they can just corral Lou Dobbs . . .
It seems Arlen Specter isn't a gutless Republican worm. Just a selfish one, as the impetus here seems to be that Cheney made the deal with Orrin Hatch and not Specter.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
The floor of the Senate was a sickening spectacle to-day as the Constitutional Amendment designed to discredit same-sex marriage was discussed. Washington State's Democratic Senator, Patty Murray, railed at the Republicans for concentrating on a divisive issue when most Americans are more concerned with healthcare, security, and the war.
Then Republican Senator John Cornyn got up to say the Democrats were ridiculous for suggesting that the sanctity of marriage was less relevant than healthcare. But the bastard sounded remarkably unsure of himself, sweated like a pig, and did not once mention the war.
Of course, the elephant in the room only we at home can see, that the Republicans were advancing a campaign of bigotry under the sickly guise of championing civil rights, was not mentioned. But, then, I didn't watch the whole thing.
Over at the Boschen and Nesuko listing at Online Comics, the folks behind Yamara wished me a happy Devil Day. I was quite pleased to have Nesuko's name associated with it, especially as I'm quite fond of many things popularly associated with Satan these days.
So happy Devil Day, everyone.
Then Republican Senator John Cornyn got up to say the Democrats were ridiculous for suggesting that the sanctity of marriage was less relevant than healthcare. But the bastard sounded remarkably unsure of himself, sweated like a pig, and did not once mention the war.
Of course, the elephant in the room only we at home can see, that the Republicans were advancing a campaign of bigotry under the sickly guise of championing civil rights, was not mentioned. But, then, I didn't watch the whole thing.
Over at the Boschen and Nesuko listing at Online Comics, the folks behind Yamara wished me a happy Devil Day. I was quite pleased to have Nesuko's name associated with it, especially as I'm quite fond of many things popularly associated with Satan these days.
So happy Devil Day, everyone.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Guy Goma, desperate for work, showed up at a BBC television station, was ushered into the wrong room, and found himself to be employed after all.
Victoria the cat, on my lap now, has been hanging out with me almost constantly the past couple days. Maybe she knows that she, my aunt, and the other cats are all moving out in a couple weeks. Maybe it's just been attractively cheerful in my room, what with all the NPR and crooks and liars playing in here while I draw.
Have you ever seen those town hall meetings Bush does, where all the people asking questions are pre-screened to ensure a pure pro-neocon crowd? The questioner often lists a bunch of things he or she feels Bush did right, and finishes with, "So my question is; what can I do for you?" Like worshipers of a bloodthirsty god, offering him more blood.
I imagine myself sneaking in and saying, "Mr. President, young American men and women are being killed, horrifically dismembered, and are losing their minds for your greed while you vacation on your ranch. American lives are quickly sinking into the ravages of nature and an economy designed to reward a rich few while you go jogging, to pray in lieu of planning, and give us a shit eating grin at the end of the day. You support a culture of bigotry as a political ploy, again to satisfy your own greed. So, my question, Mr. President, is; what can I do for you?"
On the freeway to-day, I saw a handmade sign nailed to a construction sign that read simply, "IMPEACH."
It seems obvious. It's seemed obvious for a long time, for reasons beyond the fact that he's irrefutably committed a felony with the NSA programme. Democratic Congress members are constantly asked by pundits and journalists, "If the Democrats win back Congress, will there be impeachment proceedings?" And the Democrats are always very careful not to say exactly. A sure sign that there will be. If the Democrats win back Congress. If there's no more voter fraud. Or if the large portion of the Heartland who are vicious, cloistered bigots, don't come out in droves again.
How wonderful is it that the optimistic view of the elections is that massive voter fraud secured things for Bush.
In an interview with Al Gore on NPR the other day, the interviewer quoted a scientist who said that, if we do nothing before the global warming tipping point ten years from now, the human populace in a hundred years shall be comprised of a few couples living at the poles. I have a feeling one family will be named Bush, another named Bin Laden, and they'll all believe in the "sanctity of marriage."
Have you ever seen those town hall meetings Bush does, where all the people asking questions are pre-screened to ensure a pure pro-neocon crowd? The questioner often lists a bunch of things he or she feels Bush did right, and finishes with, "So my question is; what can I do for you?" Like worshipers of a bloodthirsty god, offering him more blood.
I imagine myself sneaking in and saying, "Mr. President, young American men and women are being killed, horrifically dismembered, and are losing their minds for your greed while you vacation on your ranch. American lives are quickly sinking into the ravages of nature and an economy designed to reward a rich few while you go jogging, to pray in lieu of planning, and give us a shit eating grin at the end of the day. You support a culture of bigotry as a political ploy, again to satisfy your own greed. So, my question, Mr. President, is; what can I do for you?"
On the freeway to-day, I saw a handmade sign nailed to a construction sign that read simply, "IMPEACH."
It seems obvious. It's seemed obvious for a long time, for reasons beyond the fact that he's irrefutably committed a felony with the NSA programme. Democratic Congress members are constantly asked by pundits and journalists, "If the Democrats win back Congress, will there be impeachment proceedings?" And the Democrats are always very careful not to say exactly. A sure sign that there will be. If the Democrats win back Congress. If there's no more voter fraud. Or if the large portion of the Heartland who are vicious, cloistered bigots, don't come out in droves again.
How wonderful is it that the optimistic view of the elections is that massive voter fraud secured things for Bush.
In an interview with Al Gore on NPR the other day, the interviewer quoted a scientist who said that, if we do nothing before the global warming tipping point ten years from now, the human populace in a hundred years shall be comprised of a few couples living at the poles. I have a feeling one family will be named Bush, another named Bin Laden, and they'll all believe in the "sanctity of marriage."
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Well, those were some interesting weeks.
Trisa came to town to visit and we hung out a bit. We saw Art School Confidential which, as Robyn had promised, turned out to be a very good movie. Pitch perfect art school caricatures. And I even liked the strangler subplot Ebert and Roeper didn't like.
I took to listening to NPR while drawing. I discovered Alix Spiegel has the sexiest voice in radio. NPR also has an interesting interview with Al Gore.
You can watch several Mystery Science Theatre 3000 shorts on Google. Al Gore's a noted MST3K fan and he's a Senior Advisor for Google. Coincidence? You go right on thinking that, Darling.
Trisa came to town to visit and we hung out a bit. We saw Art School Confidential which, as Robyn had promised, turned out to be a very good movie. Pitch perfect art school caricatures. And I even liked the strangler subplot Ebert and Roeper didn't like.
I took to listening to NPR while drawing. I discovered Alix Spiegel has the sexiest voice in radio. NPR also has an interesting interview with Al Gore.
You can watch several Mystery Science Theatre 3000 shorts on Google. Al Gore's a noted MST3K fan and he's a Senior Advisor for Google. Coincidence? You go right on thinking that, Darling.
Friday, June 02, 2006
New Boschen and Nesuko. Aninei fans have something to look forward to. Are there Aninei fans? Anyway, enjoy.