Must. Get. Fresh. Air.

Hooray, it's time for some more fabulous media randomness!

This is sheer genius, and I can't stop watching it over and over. It's really perfect. Except for the obvious CG and the fact that Marge is driving on the wrong side of the car, of course.


Real-Life-Simpsons-Intro by rajucheema

Pigs flying in Russia! Very atmospheric.

Song: "My Bathroom Is A Private Kind Of Place," written and composed eons ago for American Standard. Total hilarity.

Song: "Recruit, Train, and Motivate," by the Amway Singers. This was also done eons ago, but for Amway. Total creepiness, yet oddly catchy.

And last, but certainly not least....

Song: "Happy Living," by the Astro Age Steel Orchestra. Imagine a Japanese band performing a Christmas standard. On Carribean steel drums. Yeah. Pretty awesome.

bombs and body wash

It's easy for me to forget that there's anything worth blogging about beyond media crap...until I read this:

"The day before yesterday at midnight , I was awaked by a limelight , I put my head under the pillow , and waited to hear the sound of explosion ,( I know that the light speed is faster than the sound in few seconds ), but I kept waiting , and I didn't hear anything , then I realized that it is a projector light of the police on national guards and not a bombing car !!!."

This is from livesstrong.blogspot.com, a blog written by a 14-year-old girl in Mosul, Iraq. 'Sunshine' (her nickname) wants to be an engineer, her mom's a dentist, and life, when it's not being directly threatened, seems to hold a lot of hope for her. Still, it's pretty heartbreaking when she's talking about her grandparents, and then this pops up:

"I was checking my E-mails , and I found an offline message from my grandma says " yesterday your grandpa went to the market , and while he was shopping, the US soldiers started to walk in the street , they were many , your grandpa asked a soldier gently whether he can depart , and do you know what the soldier answered ? he said "shut up". ! grandpa turned to another soldier and asked him the same question " son , can I go of please ?- and the soldier replied " we are leaving, in a moment ".

" I chatted with grandma I was so angry , that soldier's attitude ,affected my respect to the military so badly, because the soldiers should represent their country's ethics and leave a good impression , this bad soldier was so impolite and rude , I told my grandma ( relax grandma , the soldier's parents didn't behave him well , that's in case he has parents , I am sure that he lives in a box under the bridge ,and he is blessed to sleep in a tank ! ) and I still mean what I said , my grandpa is very educated wise respectful man , and he is loved by everyone, , my grandpa is a civil engineer , studied in USA , he traveled round the world because he worked for the "Arab organization for the industrial development" , that soldier SHOULDN'T talk to grandpa like that."

Damn straight. Granted, it's hard to maintain ethics/composure when you haven't been granted proper resources or a furlough in a horribly long time, but there's still no excuse for a soldier to say "Shut up" to somebody's grocery-shopping grandpa. The nerve.

Meanwhile, as all of this is going in Iraq, I'm busily surfing the web and reading about Dove's Campaign for Real Beauty. I'm not sure why Dove's putting so much money into charity work—is it

a) charity junk is tax deductible?
b) coming across as 'fresh,' 'real,' and 'caring' will dramatically improve sales?
c) both a and b?

Or perhaps

d) I am a cynical jerk, and the folks at Dove really care about improving women's self-esteem?

As long as this ultimately brings about constructive change in this world, who am I to complain? It's not like I'm cowering under my bed, waiting for the bombs to hit me. I think I need to go to bed now.

better late than never

I understand I'm about two years behind everyone else on this, but if you like the Polyphonic Spree (I preferred them when they were known as 'The Beatles', but they're still okay) and if you also like the game "Myst", then you need to visit questfortherest.com. It took me forever to figure out what the heck to do, so I'll let you in on this tidbit: keep running your cursor over EVERYTHING on screen, and when it turns into a hand, click and see what happens. Eventually, things will make sense. And it will be adorable, not to mention oddly satisfying.

from the mixed-up files of Ms. Astrid E. Frankweiler

Did you know that people can literally die laughing? As in: they laugh so hard they get a heart attack, or asphyxiate, and there you are? It's called 'fatal hilarity', and yes, there's a Wikipedia entry on it, and no, I will not link to it, because I am feeling lazy. Anyway, I did find this handy list of Nine People Who Died Laughing, and I am still puzzled by the guy who kicked the bucket while watching A Fish Called Wanda. I mean, really? A Fish Called Wanda? Huh.

Also: I stumbled upon this incredible book of world libraries, which, if you're trying to think of a way to impress me, you should NOT buy, because I will be SO in love with this book I will feel ridiculously guilty for not having a gift for you in return. The main reason I bring this up, though, is that I heart libraries, and I heart beautiful architecture, so this unites two great loves of mine in a tidy little package of whimsy and wonderment and makes me feel as if we as a civilization must be doing something right.

To be perfectly honest, I wish I could move into these shrines to knowledge. Screw letting John/Jane Q. Public into the libraries for their pesky book reports/Nobel Prize-winning research/what-have you; I covet the glorious landmarks for myself alone. How cool would it be to have your bed in the middle of one of these airy spaces, vaulted ceilings above you, cool marble floors under your bare toes as you pad around at ungodly hours through the rare manuscripts section? Sigh.

Actually, I'm sure the reality would be rather creepy, so better to leave things as they are, and to dream. Now that I think about it, the closest I've ever gotten to the realization of this fantasy is the book From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg, in which two kids get to camp out in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This fine piece of literature was made into a lousy TV movie, but is still a brilliant, breathtaking book. Konigsburg is a terrific writer in general—she writes characters I wish I could be. Best of all, they save me the trouble of breaking into the Met, for which we should all be grateful.

I would like a muffin, and other pirate-related matters

For those of you who've been living in a cave up until now, the 19th is Talk Like A Pirate Day, and Wikipedia has a pretty comprehensive entry on this. In order to get into the proper spirit, one ought to familiarize one's self with the pirate lexicon:

Talk Like a Pirate Day - The Five A's (performed by the guys who actually invented Talk Like A Pirate Day)


Since no pirate-related holiday is complete without a theme song, here ya go:

Talk Like a Pirate Day - "I'm a Pirate" song (good, rousing chorus; best sung with a tankard of ale in your hand and three hundred of your closest friends)


And for no good reason, other than a few shining moments of pure, mindless entertainment (Arr! Pirates!):

Pirate Practice




The music for the above video is "The Worst Pirate Song" by Ceann.

And now for some depressing piracy news: voting for our nation's President on a Diebold machine is officially hackable idiocy. Arr! What a great way to pollute the memory of pirates everywhere! Diebold-hacking f---ers. If they exist, I will hunt them down, and kick them with my peg leg. Hard.

jellyfish and jodhpurs

Kinky-sounding molecular names can be found here, but why the heck would you care? I mean, come ON. Get a life. Like, der.

Also: I think this is beautiful, since I like demented takes on Alice in Wonderland.

Hey, check it: I'm regarding a Modigliani!


And I'm getting jellyfish hugs!


(Profuse thanks to the ever-talented Eric Canete, of course.) Does he make me look glam, or what? Better than any photo, I say.

Just FYI, for those of you who keep track of me best through this infernal MySpace device, I'll start teaching directing next week, in addition to cinematography! Those who can, do; those who can't, teach directing. Or something like that. Anyway, wish me luck! My dad asked me if I'm going to start wearing jodhpurs, klieg glasses, and an eye patch, and I'm seriously considering this. To quote IMDb, "it was Raoul Walsh who made the eye-patch almost as synonymous with a Hollywood director as Cecil B. DeMille's jodhpurs."

Now THAT is what I call glamorous. Who needs to actually make movies, when you can just look cool? To hell with actual hard work, I'm just gonna WORK IT. Aw yeah.

mannequins & mango chutney

Check out these wacky anatomy dummies from ages past. It is pretty interesting to note how our approaches towards the human body shifted over the generations, going from lush ladies with flowing tresses to headless torsoes with abstracted organs in more 'tasteful,' color-coordinated tones. The body lost its soul somewhere, and started being taught as an elegant machine. Intriguing, no?

Speaking of artificial representations of humanity, I love The Little Girl Giant, done by ElectricPig:


And finally, apropos of nothing, I dislike farmers' markets. In the immortal words of Ze Frank, "I don't take candy from strangers, why the hell am I gonna trust 'em with mango chutney?" Amen, Ze. Amen.