Hope you had a good 2005, and hope you have a better 2006.
This little juxtaposition sums up some things I've been thinking about lately -
1) La Nadine is a young blogger, who recently posted this observation: "i have never been in love, nor has anyone ever been in love with me."
2) This is a quote by Katharine Hepburn: "Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get--only what you are expecting to give--which is everything. What you will receive in return varies. But it really has no connection with what you give. You give because you love and cannot help giving."
Cheers all, see you in the new.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Monday, October 24, 2005
Love in an age of cynicism
In the early nineties the biggest show on TV was Northern Exposure, and in the late nineties it was Seinfeld. It crosses my mind that something drastic changed in the Western world over the course of the decade, and these programs are connected to it.
Northern Exposure, as I hope you recall, followed the adventures of a cynical Jewish New York doctor forced to practice in the wilds of Alaska. Five seasons later he'd been utterly transformed; his shrill, stressed exterior had been toughened by the rigours and delights of the natural world, and his condemnation of everything too different had been tempered into a sublime peace with the world.
Seinfeld, as you know backwards, followed the adventures of four cynical Jewish New York nobodies who hovered in their comfort zones for season after hilarious season. Their chronic characteristics were an inability to change (emphasised by George's success when he actually manages to 'do the opposite'), and their endless antipathy toward anyone or anything different (man hands, cinnamon bubka, etc).
It's weird to romanticise the early nineties, but it stacks up. We had a Labor government here in Australia, and America would soon elect a Democrat President. The Cold War had ended, and even the pretend war in Kuwait seemed like a Bush-family folly, a throw-back to the USA of the fifties, rather than a sign of things to come. Corazon Aquino was still in charge in the Phillippines, Nelson Mandela had just been freed, the Berlin Wall had just been destroyed, and Smells Like Teen Spirit sounded like a soul-scream subduing the superficiality of the eighties. And there was Northern Exposure.
It had a huge influence on the Femme and I. We left the city and moved to the bush on the strength of its vision, and even when the reality faltered, the vision lost none of its allure. The show's model of how people can live together, heightened by its exploration of how people can change, still rings true as we work through the DVD box-sets today.
But the world today … WTF has happened? I love both shows equally, but thinking about them now, it just looks like Seinfeld undid everything that Northern Exposure wove into the world. The characteristics that Seinfeld mocked – the judgmental, cruel, weak and vindictive natures of its heroes – have become our social norm. We don't try to improve. We don't like people who are happy or optimistic. We get suspicious, we vote them off the island. Harshness, condescension, the killer blow - fine.
There was a writers' directive in the production of Seinfeld that no characters could ever hug each other. Northern Exposure didn't have an episode without a hug. This absense of affection in Seinfeld, perfect for the show, is an out-of-control meme in the outside world. And no-one reads subtext, so no-one processes the dichotomy. It's dog-eat-dog because we're all hungry dogs - well, aren't we?
I remember thinking after 11 Sept that maybe compassion would overwhelm fear in the long run. No, of course not. I remember thinking during Sex & The City that maybe delight could eventually overwhelm comfort. But everything's darker than that.
The damage is in the next generation now. The closest thing to a hippy-chick at my work votes Liberal because she can't separate the social agendas of the Left and Right. There is simply the yoga and meditiation of her immediate world, and the important economical realities of the wider world. Nothing connects, and the wider world has no other feasible options. Red states of mind.
I mentioned a link between these shows and the world at large, hoping it would become apparent as I wrote. Depends what you think of art, though, doesn't it? Does art inspire the zeitgeist, or does it distill the qualities already in the air? I'm not blaming Seinfeld with the destruction of love, of course … or maybe I am. But if Seinfeld did that, it was because we wanted it to happen. Someone had to prepare the way for Big Brother.
I watched the part one of the BBC's new series on Casanova last night, and was captivated to see people passionately and irrationally in love. It shouldn't be such an anathema.
Northern Exposure, as I hope you recall, followed the adventures of a cynical Jewish New York doctor forced to practice in the wilds of Alaska. Five seasons later he'd been utterly transformed; his shrill, stressed exterior had been toughened by the rigours and delights of the natural world, and his condemnation of everything too different had been tempered into a sublime peace with the world.
Seinfeld, as you know backwards, followed the adventures of four cynical Jewish New York nobodies who hovered in their comfort zones for season after hilarious season. Their chronic characteristics were an inability to change (emphasised by George's success when he actually manages to 'do the opposite'), and their endless antipathy toward anyone or anything different (man hands, cinnamon bubka, etc).
It's weird to romanticise the early nineties, but it stacks up. We had a Labor government here in Australia, and America would soon elect a Democrat President. The Cold War had ended, and even the pretend war in Kuwait seemed like a Bush-family folly, a throw-back to the USA of the fifties, rather than a sign of things to come. Corazon Aquino was still in charge in the Phillippines, Nelson Mandela had just been freed, the Berlin Wall had just been destroyed, and Smells Like Teen Spirit sounded like a soul-scream subduing the superficiality of the eighties. And there was Northern Exposure.
It had a huge influence on the Femme and I. We left the city and moved to the bush on the strength of its vision, and even when the reality faltered, the vision lost none of its allure. The show's model of how people can live together, heightened by its exploration of how people can change, still rings true as we work through the DVD box-sets today.
But the world today … WTF has happened? I love both shows equally, but thinking about them now, it just looks like Seinfeld undid everything that Northern Exposure wove into the world. The characteristics that Seinfeld mocked – the judgmental, cruel, weak and vindictive natures of its heroes – have become our social norm. We don't try to improve. We don't like people who are happy or optimistic. We get suspicious, we vote them off the island. Harshness, condescension, the killer blow - fine.
There was a writers' directive in the production of Seinfeld that no characters could ever hug each other. Northern Exposure didn't have an episode without a hug. This absense of affection in Seinfeld, perfect for the show, is an out-of-control meme in the outside world. And no-one reads subtext, so no-one processes the dichotomy. It's dog-eat-dog because we're all hungry dogs - well, aren't we?
I remember thinking after 11 Sept that maybe compassion would overwhelm fear in the long run. No, of course not. I remember thinking during Sex & The City that maybe delight could eventually overwhelm comfort. But everything's darker than that.
The damage is in the next generation now. The closest thing to a hippy-chick at my work votes Liberal because she can't separate the social agendas of the Left and Right. There is simply the yoga and meditiation of her immediate world, and the important economical realities of the wider world. Nothing connects, and the wider world has no other feasible options. Red states of mind.
I mentioned a link between these shows and the world at large, hoping it would become apparent as I wrote. Depends what you think of art, though, doesn't it? Does art inspire the zeitgeist, or does it distill the qualities already in the air? I'm not blaming Seinfeld with the destruction of love, of course … or maybe I am. But if Seinfeld did that, it was because we wanted it to happen. Someone had to prepare the way for Big Brother.
I watched the part one of the BBC's new series on Casanova last night, and was captivated to see people passionately and irrationally in love. It shouldn't be such an anathema.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Friday, October 07, 2005
With friends like these ...
I don't want to talk politics ... I really don't.
All the negatives I could list about the Howard regime (and his sycophantic, economy-worshipping masses) are boring and you've heard smarter people than me say them already. Hating the Liberal Party is easy and ordinary, its evil excesses self-evident and simply awful.
So there'd be nothing at all to say about politics, if not for the fact that the ALP is just as rooted.
Now, I don't want the ALP to be rooted. It pains me that I live in a (fundamentally) two-horse town of a democracy, where one horse is lame and the other is insane. But every time I try to be optimistic (ie. "Fat Kim isn't quite so bad, is he?" or "That Julia Gilliard is way-sexy"), they do something to FUCK ME UP.
Actually, the more I think about it, the 'something' is just one thing which manifests in a heap of different ways. It's this: the ALP hates the Greens.
What? you ask. The ALP hates the Greens? How can that be? They're both lefty parties, IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. I was similarly shocked when the facts became clear ...
How did Family First win their Senate seat in Victoria? The ALP directed their preferences to Family First ahead of the Greens. AHEAD OF THE GREENS!
Yep, abortion is back on the table (the dusty table in the shed, not a sterile operating table) because the Victorian ALP got scared that some trees somewhere might need to be saved.
Yep, family values are a topic for consumption (in a rammed-down-your-throat way) because the Victorian ALP was scared that the occasional animal might need to be spared its torturous existence.
Thanks for that, ALP. And thanks for this from The Age -
Sen. Bob Brown regarding the deportation of Scott Parkin:
"Now what country are we in? Surely the Inquisition is behind us, surely the Salem witchcraft trials are some centuries ago ... but no, in the year 2005 this peaceful man advocating peace in our peace-loving democracy is picked up in a police state operation, had his visa removed ... and was deported without any due reason being given at all."
The ALP's response:
Labor justice spokesman Joe Ludwig said the opposition would not support the motion (ie. an Inquiry into the deportation) because security sensitive information should not be aired in public. Senator Ludwig said Opposition Leader Kim Beazley, who received a secret briefing on the Parkin issue, had been satisfied with the briefing.
THANK YOU, ALP.
Hope you enjoyed your secret briefing. And your seat at the table. And your thirty pieces.
All the negatives I could list about the Howard regime (and his sycophantic, economy-worshipping masses) are boring and you've heard smarter people than me say them already. Hating the Liberal Party is easy and ordinary, its evil excesses self-evident and simply awful.
So there'd be nothing at all to say about politics, if not for the fact that the ALP is just as rooted.
Now, I don't want the ALP to be rooted. It pains me that I live in a (fundamentally) two-horse town of a democracy, where one horse is lame and the other is insane. But every time I try to be optimistic (ie. "Fat Kim isn't quite so bad, is he?" or "That Julia Gilliard is way-sexy"), they do something to FUCK ME UP.
Actually, the more I think about it, the 'something' is just one thing which manifests in a heap of different ways. It's this: the ALP hates the Greens.
What? you ask. The ALP hates the Greens? How can that be? They're both lefty parties, IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. I was similarly shocked when the facts became clear ...
How did Family First win their Senate seat in Victoria? The ALP directed their preferences to Family First ahead of the Greens. AHEAD OF THE GREENS!
Yep, abortion is back on the table (the dusty table in the shed, not a sterile operating table) because the Victorian ALP got scared that some trees somewhere might need to be saved.
Yep, family values are a topic for consumption (in a rammed-down-your-throat way) because the Victorian ALP was scared that the occasional animal might need to be spared its torturous existence.
Thanks for that, ALP. And thanks for this from The Age -
Sen. Bob Brown regarding the deportation of Scott Parkin:
"Now what country are we in? Surely the Inquisition is behind us, surely the Salem witchcraft trials are some centuries ago ... but no, in the year 2005 this peaceful man advocating peace in our peace-loving democracy is picked up in a police state operation, had his visa removed ... and was deported without any due reason being given at all."
The ALP's response:
Labor justice spokesman Joe Ludwig said the opposition would not support the motion (ie. an Inquiry into the deportation) because security sensitive information should not be aired in public. Senator Ludwig said Opposition Leader Kim Beazley, who received a secret briefing on the Parkin issue, had been satisfied with the briefing.
THANK YOU, ALP.
Hope you enjoyed your secret briefing. And your seat at the table. And your thirty pieces.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Doing the rounds at the moment ...
Donald Rumsfeld is giving the President his daily briefing.
He concludes by saying: "Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed."
"OH NO!" the President exclaims. "That's terrible!!"
His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the President sits silently, head in hands.
Finally, the President looks up and asks, "How many is a brazillion?"
He concludes by saying: "Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed."
"OH NO!" the President exclaims. "That's terrible!!"
His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the President sits silently, head in hands.
Finally, the President looks up and asks, "How many is a brazillion?"
Monday, October 03, 2005
Song of the Month!
I was looking at an old mix-tape this morning (old = Oct 1999, mix-tape = CD-R) and thought to myself:
"Bloody hell, that's SIX YEARS ago!"
Most of the songs seemed like recent interests/obsessions, meaning that I have absolutely no idea what I've been into when. Chronology interests me. Thus I am suffering.
Therefore ... Song of the Month. At the end of each month I'll name the song that most captivated me over the preceding 30-odd days. That way I'll have a little time capsule of my tastes and influences, and you'll be bored witless by something other than my whinging and whining.
To begin, having a vague idea of how this year unfolded, I present my all-guessed Year-To-Date Songs of the Month:
January - Four to the Floor, Starsailor
Tight, catchy song, and the CD-single had a great epic mix and a snazzy dance mix
February - What You Waiting For, Gwen Stefani
Love the song, the video, the sentiment, the whole shebang
March - Laura (aka Shimoon, aka Simone), Scissor Sisters
Funny
April - Interstate 5, The Wedding Present
Epic, lush and glorious
May - Baby C'mon, Stephen Malkmus
Rockin' and sublime
June - Teenage Winter, Saint Etienne
The epic penultimate track that saves the whole album
July - Seconds, Human League
An old, old song ... released many years before you were even born, but captivating my soul all this time
August - Staralfur, Sigur Rós
This is when I finally heard it, bought it and started worshipping it
And finally, September's Song of the Month is ...
Harajuku Girls, Gwen Stefani
Goddam love it. Bought the album as a fun/party album, but this track is right under my skin.
There, wasn't that fun?
"Bloody hell, that's SIX YEARS ago!"
Most of the songs seemed like recent interests/obsessions, meaning that I have absolutely no idea what I've been into when. Chronology interests me. Thus I am suffering.
Therefore ... Song of the Month. At the end of each month I'll name the song that most captivated me over the preceding 30-odd days. That way I'll have a little time capsule of my tastes and influences, and you'll be bored witless by something other than my whinging and whining.
To begin, having a vague idea of how this year unfolded, I present my all-guessed Year-To-Date Songs of the Month:
January - Four to the Floor, Starsailor
Tight, catchy song, and the CD-single had a great epic mix and a snazzy dance mix
February - What You Waiting For, Gwen Stefani
Love the song, the video, the sentiment, the whole shebang
March - Laura (aka Shimoon, aka Simone), Scissor Sisters
Funny
April - Interstate 5, The Wedding Present
Epic, lush and glorious
May - Baby C'mon, Stephen Malkmus
Rockin' and sublime
June - Teenage Winter, Saint Etienne
The epic penultimate track that saves the whole album
July - Seconds, Human League
An old, old song ... released many years before you were even born, but captivating my soul all this time
August - Staralfur, Sigur Rós
This is when I finally heard it, bought it and started worshipping it
And finally, September's Song of the Month is ...
Harajuku Girls, Gwen Stefani
Goddam love it. Bought the album as a fun/party album, but this track is right under my skin.
There, wasn't that fun?
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Ah, the Serenity
Maybe you've seen the cool poster in your cinema ...
Maybe you've seen the intriging ad on your television ...
Maybe you've heard the excellent word of mouth ...
Or maybe I'm dreaming all those things.
But whether you're aware it's coming or not, here's what you need to know: after "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel" were done and dusted, Joss Whedon created another TV series called "Firefly".
Fox TV (may their name be forever cursed) cancelled this new series after only eleven episodes were screened, but it was clear to everyone else that the show was GREAT. Along came Universal (all praise upon them), who offered Joss some loose change (ie. about $40M) to make a movie based on the concept.
And thus was born ... SERENITY. A movie which opens THIS. VERY. THURSDAY.
Now, it's not critical that you've seen "Firefly", but if you're interested, the DVD box is available at your local DVD store. If you want to go buy it right now, that's fine, the rest of us can wait ... hmmm ... mmm ... ho-hum ... la-de-dum ... good grief, this could take forever ... idiot! what was I thinking??? ... *sigh*
Anyway, while they're gone, I'll assume that I'm speaking with the people who've already seen it all (isn't it great? God, I love it SO MUCH) or who just aren't sure (and that's cool, I can respect your caution). What I want to say to all of you (and the others when they get back) is simply GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND.
Here's a wee Q&A to elaborate upon my message ...
Q. "Mark, I'd love to, but I'm too busy over the next few weeks"
A. NO, GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Q. "I'll see it next week, but this weekend I'm donating a spleen to my African foster-child"
A. NO, GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Q. "Shouldn't I watch Firefly first?"
A. NOT NECESSARILY, GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Q. "But Buffy went all silly and I'm not sure I trust Joss anymore"
A. POINT TAKEN, BUT GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Q. "Mark, I'm a free-thinking adult who doesn't take kindly to being told what to do"
A. SHUT UP AND GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Seriously, people, a film lives or dies on the strength of its opening weekend. Joss loves his movie and so do the Femme & I (yes, we've seen it ... twice ... it's WONDERFUL). He wants to make lots of little sequels, and we want to help him. A big opening weekend vindicates Universal's decision to let him make Serenity, and keeps the kind of funny-scary-thrilling-aching stories that only Joss can tell coming our way.
SERENITY. Written & directed by Joss Whedon.
"It's about how much you can take, how much you can have taken from you ... before you have to turn around and fight" - JW.
It's funny, too.
I'm sure you'll love it. And thank me for posting this rant.
And maybe, in time, even forgive me for telling you to shut up.
Sorry.
Maybe you've seen the intriging ad on your television ...
Maybe you've heard the excellent word of mouth ...
Or maybe I'm dreaming all those things.
But whether you're aware it's coming or not, here's what you need to know: after "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel" were done and dusted, Joss Whedon created another TV series called "Firefly".
Fox TV (may their name be forever cursed) cancelled this new series after only eleven episodes were screened, but it was clear to everyone else that the show was GREAT. Along came Universal (all praise upon them), who offered Joss some loose change (ie. about $40M) to make a movie based on the concept.
And thus was born ... SERENITY. A movie which opens THIS. VERY. THURSDAY.
Now, it's not critical that you've seen "Firefly", but if you're interested, the DVD box is available at your local DVD store. If you want to go buy it right now, that's fine, the rest of us can wait ... hmmm ... mmm ... ho-hum ... la-de-dum ... good grief, this could take forever ... idiot! what was I thinking??? ... *sigh*
Anyway, while they're gone, I'll assume that I'm speaking with the people who've already seen it all (isn't it great? God, I love it SO MUCH) or who just aren't sure (and that's cool, I can respect your caution). What I want to say to all of you (and the others when they get back) is simply GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND.
Here's a wee Q&A to elaborate upon my message ...
Q. "Mark, I'd love to, but I'm too busy over the next few weeks"
A. NO, GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Q. "I'll see it next week, but this weekend I'm donating a spleen to my African foster-child"
A. NO, GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Q. "Shouldn't I watch Firefly first?"
A. NOT NECESSARILY, GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Q. "But Buffy went all silly and I'm not sure I trust Joss anymore"
A. POINT TAKEN, BUT GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Q. "Mark, I'm a free-thinking adult who doesn't take kindly to being told what to do"
A. SHUT UP AND GO SEE SERENITY THIS WEEKEND
Seriously, people, a film lives or dies on the strength of its opening weekend. Joss loves his movie and so do the Femme & I (yes, we've seen it ... twice ... it's WONDERFUL). He wants to make lots of little sequels, and we want to help him. A big opening weekend vindicates Universal's decision to let him make Serenity, and keeps the kind of funny-scary-thrilling-aching stories that only Joss can tell coming our way.
SERENITY. Written & directed by Joss Whedon.
"It's about how much you can take, how much you can have taken from you ... before you have to turn around and fight" - JW.
It's funny, too.
I'm sure you'll love it. And thank me for posting this rant.
And maybe, in time, even forgive me for telling you to shut up.
Sorry.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Old OLD ARRGGGGHHHHH ... *sigh*
Yes yes, 37 now. Had the quiet weekend I needed, with just the right amounts of walking around Lake Daylesford, tapping away on the computer, balancing the Lad above my head and scintillating Grand Final action. Not enough Femme though (like there can ever be enough Femme).
Incidentally, 37 is fine. It is NOT FORTY. Therefore it is fine.
A thing from last week ... I forgot to mention that my mate Rene Zandveld's episode of Last Man Standing aired on Channel 7 last Tuesday. It was 'his' in the sense that he wrote it, all those excellent words and gags. As a gunslinging writer for a network TV series he got the plot supplied to him, but he had to bring the whole thing to life and I think he did an incredible job. We also had the pleasure of watching it with him (he hadn't seen it in advance), so we scored the live, spontaneous DVD-style commentary in the ad breaks, too. Great guy, great evening.
See, I didn't mention Marieke. Argh, damn.
Tales from the weekend ...
One special birthday treat was a bottle of Laphroaig scotch whisky, which was quickly followed by membership into the Friends of Laphroaig online community. I now own a small peaty plot of land on the Isle of Islay, Scotland, to go along with my 750ml (now about 710ml) of the finest drink in all the world.
Whisky. Does it sound wanky? The people I observe these days just seem to drink beer, wine or fruity vodka. I get physically repulsed toward the end of a second beer, even looking at wine (either red or white) makes me utterly nauseous, and ... fruity vodka?! Come on. But drinking has to be done, dammit.
Out on a team dinner about two months ago, I randomly picked whisky from the menu. Lo and behold, it tasted GREAT. There were only mild side-effects, no hangover, and I could sit on a $7 glass for well over an hour. Is this not BLISS??
Whisky's a perfect drink to nurture when you're writing, too. One glass lasts the whole night, it sits well beside a string of coffees, and even fuses nicely with chocolate. A bottle can last for months and months (I'm yet to test this, but assume there's a chance). And whether you spend $30 or $75, it's got to be cheaper than beer or wine.
So, wanky it may be, but I've found my booze. That ye may also be so canny, lads and lasses!
ps. sorry for recycling my reply to you, Maybanana!
Incidentally, 37 is fine. It is NOT FORTY. Therefore it is fine.
A thing from last week ... I forgot to mention that my mate Rene Zandveld's episode of Last Man Standing aired on Channel 7 last Tuesday. It was 'his' in the sense that he wrote it, all those excellent words and gags. As a gunslinging writer for a network TV series he got the plot supplied to him, but he had to bring the whole thing to life and I think he did an incredible job. We also had the pleasure of watching it with him (he hadn't seen it in advance), so we scored the live, spontaneous DVD-style commentary in the ad breaks, too. Great guy, great evening.
See, I didn't mention Marieke. Argh, damn.
Tales from the weekend ...
One special birthday treat was a bottle of Laphroaig scotch whisky, which was quickly followed by membership into the Friends of Laphroaig online community. I now own a small peaty plot of land on the Isle of Islay, Scotland, to go along with my 750ml (now about 710ml) of the finest drink in all the world.
Whisky. Does it sound wanky? The people I observe these days just seem to drink beer, wine or fruity vodka. I get physically repulsed toward the end of a second beer, even looking at wine (either red or white) makes me utterly nauseous, and ... fruity vodka?! Come on. But drinking has to be done, dammit.
Out on a team dinner about two months ago, I randomly picked whisky from the menu. Lo and behold, it tasted GREAT. There were only mild side-effects, no hangover, and I could sit on a $7 glass for well over an hour. Is this not BLISS??
Whisky's a perfect drink to nurture when you're writing, too. One glass lasts the whole night, it sits well beside a string of coffees, and even fuses nicely with chocolate. A bottle can last for months and months (I'm yet to test this, but assume there's a chance). And whether you spend $30 or $75, it's got to be cheaper than beer or wine.
So, wanky it may be, but I've found my booze. That ye may also be so canny, lads and lasses!
ps. sorry for recycling my reply to you, Maybanana!
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Meeting & Fleeting
So much for my exclusive revelations of Jossean genius in this little blog. Part One of the complete transcript of his Melbourne Q & A is available at the Australian Serenity website, and it's virtually verbatim. Of course, don't go there if you haven't seen the film, it's a SPOILER UNIVERSE. But if you have, go to the "I've Seen Serenity" thread in the forums.
Yes, I'm still basking in post-Joss afterglow. Good grief.
In other news:
* according to (hopefully) reliable sources, Tanya Donelly is pregnant. Yay, Tan!
* vale Sainters, when will your time come?
* Desolation Jones 3 ... frigging fantastic
In my last post I mentioned my encounter with Neil Gaiman. I posted the following tale on my website, but do you have the time to go wandering the internet? I don't think so ...
Monday, 18th July 2005
Neil where I stood
Tonight, Neil Gaiman was in Melbourne and I was lucky enough to attend his talkerama at the State Library of Victoria. Neil, as you probably know, is a "writer and storyteller" (his words) of extraordinary repute. He's written the comics that made comics readable, novels and children's books that have won dozens of awards, and TV episodes, film scripts and (presumably) shopping lists of profound wit and imagination, too. He is a Great.
Listening to him recount his career was glorious and savage. So much direction, bravery, dedication and synchronicity. He deserves everything he has, and he does what he does brilliantly and graciously. I was seeing/hearing a great writer, but more importantly I was experiencing a living conduit.
Neil is at the hub of many universes. He talked about Terry Pratchett, Roger Avery and his years of interviewing, and he answered questions about Tori Amos, Alice Cooper and Doctor Who. Personally, his links to Douglas Adams (who he interviewed as a lad) and his English comic-writing contemporaries speak the loudest, but he's everywhere, in everything, at the hub. It's almost incomprehensible. I'm not mentioning much about his writing because his writing doesn't do much for me. But the man's station is profound.
Chamali, my companion for the evening, and I lined up for almost two hours to get his autograph and say hi. I asked a question which got away from me:
"Neil, magic. In an interview Kevin Smith called you, Alan Moore and Grant Morrison the three European gods of comic writing. Alan has his magic, Grant has his Chaos Magic, I was just wondering what magic means to you?"
Yep, I think that's what I asked. Only faster than you can imagine, and in gibberish.
Neil, to his credit, answered me politely. He said something like this:
"Alan hit forty and had his mid-life crisis. Grant's always been like that. Maybe I'll turn fifty and make a change (I can't remember his exact words, but you get the gist). I still remember Alan calling me up and declaring (in Alan's deep voice) 'Neil, I'm becoming a warlock' (very amusing this was). But, you see, Alan has his beard, and Neil has his shaved head, and there's nothing else left. All I do is try to be myself."
No, it's not the answer I wanted, but I didn't ask the question I wanted, either. I think I was trying to say "You write about a magical universe, just like Alan and Grant, but they're writing about what they believe in. What do you believe in?" This still might have imploded, but at least I wouldn't have scored the twee 'be yourself' platitude. I don't know why I cared about Neil's personal feelings about magic but I did, and do. Maybe I still deeply wonder about motivation and faith, and what gets a successful writer out of their bedroom.
Despite the general thrill of the evening, and the delightfulness of Chamali's company, I felt a little flat on the way home. I was utterly dehydrated ten minutes into the evening, and halfway home, waiting for a tram or bus at my very familiar Alfred Hospital stop, I thought I was going to collapse. Then, to my amazement, I was drinking. There, next to the stop, was a drinking fountain, and there I was, drinking from it. I've been at this stop hundreds of times and never seen the fountain. Tonight I didn't see it. But I drank from it.
Everything ...
Yes, I'm still basking in post-Joss afterglow. Good grief.
In other news:
* according to (hopefully) reliable sources, Tanya Donelly is pregnant. Yay, Tan!
* vale Sainters, when will your time come?
* Desolation Jones 3 ... frigging fantastic
In my last post I mentioned my encounter with Neil Gaiman. I posted the following tale on my website, but do you have the time to go wandering the internet? I don't think so ...
Monday, 18th July 2005
Neil where I stood
Tonight, Neil Gaiman was in Melbourne and I was lucky enough to attend his talkerama at the State Library of Victoria. Neil, as you probably know, is a "writer and storyteller" (his words) of extraordinary repute. He's written the comics that made comics readable, novels and children's books that have won dozens of awards, and TV episodes, film scripts and (presumably) shopping lists of profound wit and imagination, too. He is a Great.
Listening to him recount his career was glorious and savage. So much direction, bravery, dedication and synchronicity. He deserves everything he has, and he does what he does brilliantly and graciously. I was seeing/hearing a great writer, but more importantly I was experiencing a living conduit.
Neil is at the hub of many universes. He talked about Terry Pratchett, Roger Avery and his years of interviewing, and he answered questions about Tori Amos, Alice Cooper and Doctor Who. Personally, his links to Douglas Adams (who he interviewed as a lad) and his English comic-writing contemporaries speak the loudest, but he's everywhere, in everything, at the hub. It's almost incomprehensible. I'm not mentioning much about his writing because his writing doesn't do much for me. But the man's station is profound.
Chamali, my companion for the evening, and I lined up for almost two hours to get his autograph and say hi. I asked a question which got away from me:
"Neil, magic. In an interview Kevin Smith called you, Alan Moore and Grant Morrison the three European gods of comic writing. Alan has his magic, Grant has his Chaos Magic, I was just wondering what magic means to you?"
Yep, I think that's what I asked. Only faster than you can imagine, and in gibberish.
Neil, to his credit, answered me politely. He said something like this:
"Alan hit forty and had his mid-life crisis. Grant's always been like that. Maybe I'll turn fifty and make a change (I can't remember his exact words, but you get the gist). I still remember Alan calling me up and declaring (in Alan's deep voice) 'Neil, I'm becoming a warlock' (very amusing this was). But, you see, Alan has his beard, and Neil has his shaved head, and there's nothing else left. All I do is try to be myself."
No, it's not the answer I wanted, but I didn't ask the question I wanted, either. I think I was trying to say "You write about a magical universe, just like Alan and Grant, but they're writing about what they believe in. What do you believe in?" This still might have imploded, but at least I wouldn't have scored the twee 'be yourself' platitude. I don't know why I cared about Neil's personal feelings about magic but I did, and do. Maybe I still deeply wonder about motivation and faith, and what gets a successful writer out of their bedroom.
Despite the general thrill of the evening, and the delightfulness of Chamali's company, I felt a little flat on the way home. I was utterly dehydrated ten minutes into the evening, and halfway home, waiting for a tram or bus at my very familiar Alfred Hospital stop, I thought I was going to collapse. Then, to my amazement, I was drinking. There, next to the stop, was a drinking fountain, and there I was, drinking from it. I've been at this stop hundreds of times and never seen the fountain. Tonight I didn't see it. But I drank from it.
Everything ...
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Who's the Joss
By now you know the score. Joss Whedon, creator of the TV series Buffy, Angel and Firefly, has been in Australia the last three days promoting his debut movie Serenity.
Aside from the following commitments -
Rove Live - Network Ten - live-to-air on Tuesday, September 13
Sunrise - Network Seven - live-to-air on Tuesday, September 13
The Movie Show (SBS-TV)
Showtime (Foxtel/Austar)
Music Max - with Chit Chat
MTV
Radio National, Breakfast with Fran Kelly - Monday, September 12
Radio Triple J, Jay and the Doctor (breakfast show)
ABC 702 with Sarah McDonald - to air on Monday, September 12
Radio 774 with Richard Stubbs
Radio 3RRR with Rob Jan
Radio 92.9FM, Perth with Bernie, Luke & Sal (breakfast)
Radio Adelaide
Fresh-FM, Adelaide
Radio 4ZZZ Movie Show
Fbi 94.5FM
Radio 2SER-FM
… and a million print interviews
- he also made time for Q & A sessions at two preview screenings of the new movie.
My femme and I were at last night's Melbourne screening. We are lucky, lucky people. Yes, there's a lot of gushing over Joss woven through the fabric of the internet. Many of his fans insist he is god, which you'd normally assume is an exaggeration arising from their over-identification and under-achievement.
After spending almost ninety minutes in his presense, I'd say these people are on the right track. He is fucking ace.
To set the scene, our tickets had a start time of 8:30pm but at 8:30pm there was still a queue stretching a mile from the cinema. The film started about forty minutes late, once everyone's mobile phones and cameras were safely stashed by security - we knew the drill from the preview screening at the Jam Factory, so we travelled light. The crowd was diverse in culture and age, with clearly more women than men. It seemed to be a broader cross-section than the earlier preview, which was all kids, and there were significantly fewer blue hands.
Second time around the film was, I'm delighted to say, even better. Without wanting to unduly influence you, there's a richness and poetry to the dialogue that only increases with familiarity. It's thematically tight, visually rich and makes you laugh/cry in all the right places. I love the film. Except for tiny little bits that need tweaking, but that's a story for another day.
After the film, as tears were swept away and the full majesty of the moment descended upon us, the head of Universal International Pictures (Australia) came out and said a few words. Then, without significant ado, Joss strode down the aisle and into our hearts.
First item of business was the delivery of presents from our local Browncoats chapter - an akubra and a box of unseen goodies (hopefully not more Australiana ...please, dear god). He wore the hat graciously, but mercifully it didn't stay on his head long.
Then he took his seat, centre stage up the front, for a full hour of diverse questions and strange, insightful, hilarious, fascinating and perverse answers. I spent the whole time writing, and plan to share some of the exchanges with you all ... but not today. And as much of the discussion contains spoilers for the movie, some bits will remain upspoken until Sept 29. General Jossy bits may pop up in future posts here - they're happily up my sleeve for now. No, we didn't ask any questions. We've thought of some great ones this morning ... damn damn damn. I did yell out a few things, though, so I feel 'heard'.
At 12:05am, after the questions were done, the queue formed for the autograph session. Can you believe that this man, who was on Sunrise at 8:50am, was still going strong so many hours later? From his comments and itinery, it's clear he'd hardly slept in days. Despite the late hour and hundreds of people waiting their turn, he was all smiles. They obviously breed 'em tough in Hollywood.
Anyway, at this point we were lucky again. My femme snuck up the front before security locked us in our seats, and as part of the first row of signaturees, she got to him by 12:25am. He was, as you would expect by now, still witty, charming and enthusiastic.
Should I have left her alone with him? Depends if she flies off to LA without me in the next week or two.
Do I regret not waiting my turn and getting to shake his hand myself? I was sitting up the front, we made eye-contact from time to time, I'm happy. After my ordeal with Neil Gaiman, I'm thinking of censoring myself from the talent.
And so we left him there, in a near-full cinema swirling with love and admiration. We felt good. We FEEL good. This is the way we dream our inspibhff cc hjgh7, (thanks, little one) ... the way we dream our inspirational heroes will leave us feeling.
He's the manmjhhbgvvbvgbghy (that's my boy's word, I was just going to say he's the man).
We know how lucky we were.
Aside from the following commitments -
Rove Live - Network Ten - live-to-air on Tuesday, September 13
Sunrise - Network Seven - live-to-air on Tuesday, September 13
The Movie Show (SBS-TV)
Showtime (Foxtel/Austar)
Music Max - with Chit Chat
MTV
Radio National, Breakfast with Fran Kelly - Monday, September 12
Radio Triple J, Jay and the Doctor (breakfast show)
ABC 702 with Sarah McDonald - to air on Monday, September 12
Radio 774 with Richard Stubbs
Radio 3RRR with Rob Jan
Radio 92.9FM, Perth with Bernie, Luke & Sal (breakfast)
Radio Adelaide
Fresh-FM, Adelaide
Radio 4ZZZ Movie Show
Fbi 94.5FM
Radio 2SER-FM
… and a million print interviews
- he also made time for Q & A sessions at two preview screenings of the new movie.
My femme and I were at last night's Melbourne screening. We are lucky, lucky people. Yes, there's a lot of gushing over Joss woven through the fabric of the internet. Many of his fans insist he is god, which you'd normally assume is an exaggeration arising from their over-identification and under-achievement.
After spending almost ninety minutes in his presense, I'd say these people are on the right track. He is fucking ace.
To set the scene, our tickets had a start time of 8:30pm but at 8:30pm there was still a queue stretching a mile from the cinema. The film started about forty minutes late, once everyone's mobile phones and cameras were safely stashed by security - we knew the drill from the preview screening at the Jam Factory, so we travelled light. The crowd was diverse in culture and age, with clearly more women than men. It seemed to be a broader cross-section than the earlier preview, which was all kids, and there were significantly fewer blue hands.
Second time around the film was, I'm delighted to say, even better. Without wanting to unduly influence you, there's a richness and poetry to the dialogue that only increases with familiarity. It's thematically tight, visually rich and makes you laugh/cry in all the right places. I love the film. Except for tiny little bits that need tweaking, but that's a story for another day.
After the film, as tears were swept away and the full majesty of the moment descended upon us, the head of Universal International Pictures (Australia) came out and said a few words. Then, without significant ado, Joss strode down the aisle and into our hearts.
First item of business was the delivery of presents from our local Browncoats chapter - an akubra and a box of unseen goodies (hopefully not more Australiana ...please, dear god). He wore the hat graciously, but mercifully it didn't stay on his head long.
Then he took his seat, centre stage up the front, for a full hour of diverse questions and strange, insightful, hilarious, fascinating and perverse answers. I spent the whole time writing, and plan to share some of the exchanges with you all ... but not today. And as much of the discussion contains spoilers for the movie, some bits will remain upspoken until Sept 29. General Jossy bits may pop up in future posts here - they're happily up my sleeve for now. No, we didn't ask any questions. We've thought of some great ones this morning ... damn damn damn. I did yell out a few things, though, so I feel 'heard'.
At 12:05am, after the questions were done, the queue formed for the autograph session. Can you believe that this man, who was on Sunrise at 8:50am, was still going strong so many hours later? From his comments and itinery, it's clear he'd hardly slept in days. Despite the late hour and hundreds of people waiting their turn, he was all smiles. They obviously breed 'em tough in Hollywood.
Anyway, at this point we were lucky again. My femme snuck up the front before security locked us in our seats, and as part of the first row of signaturees, she got to him by 12:25am. He was, as you would expect by now, still witty, charming and enthusiastic.
Should I have left her alone with him? Depends if she flies off to LA without me in the next week or two.
Do I regret not waiting my turn and getting to shake his hand myself? I was sitting up the front, we made eye-contact from time to time, I'm happy. After my ordeal with Neil Gaiman, I'm thinking of censoring myself from the talent.
And so we left him there, in a near-full cinema swirling with love and admiration. We felt good. We FEEL good. This is the way we dream our inspibhff cc hjgh7, (thanks, little one) ... the way we dream our inspirational heroes will leave us feeling.
He's the manmjhhbgvvbvgbghy (that's my boy's word, I was just going to say he's the man).
We know how lucky we were.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Sliding and Diving
Hello Blogfans,
My how quickly things change. Two weeks ago I had a sporadic web journal on my obscure little website, http://www.urbanmythic.com. Now I suddenly have a livejournal, and this blogspot journal, too.
Why, you ask? Originally I just wanted to send a comment to Warren Ellis over at The Engine. Today I needed to send a hi to Ms Fits. And thus blogs are born.
Not sure which one I'll warm to.
Just playing for now.
My how quickly things change. Two weeks ago I had a sporadic web journal on my obscure little website, http://www.urbanmythic.com. Now I suddenly have a livejournal, and this blogspot journal, too.
Why, you ask? Originally I just wanted to send a comment to Warren Ellis over at The Engine. Today I needed to send a hi to Ms Fits. And thus blogs are born.
Not sure which one I'll warm to.
Just playing for now.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)