You'll have to excuse the blog-silence (blo-ilence?); it's completely unintentional. I'm housesitting this week and can't, for the life of me, figure out how to connect to the internet. The last time I housesat I had no trouble connecting and stayed on-line a huge portion of my time there. Now I'm filling my time with reading, writing (with pen and paper, like a sucker) and a little Smallville. Season 3? Good, good, good (though the inherent flaw in having someone as beautiful as Lana "wait for Clark" is a black smudge on an otherwise intelligent show).
First new class of a brand new semester tomorrow (my other class is a full year carry over). 15 students in it. Good number. I hope they're talkers. I find myself telling the stupidest stories to illustrate points when no one talks. Today, for example, I talked about a theory of female insanity that Dave Foley once shared on the Bill Maher show about menstration and the frequency of periods. And it was to a ROOMFUL OF FEMALES, which is sort of like explaining French to people from France, don'tcha think?
And Resident Evil 4 gives me nightmares.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Thursday, January 05, 2006
And who says there's no culture in Manitoba?
Mike and Rachel Boyce basking in the wonder that is Happy Rock
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle
One of the films I saw over the Christmas holiday was Peter Jackson's King Kong. Now I've been trying to think of something profound or witty (or even reasonably clever) to say about this film, but, alas, everything that can be said about this film has been said already; and by people far more intelligent, handsome/pretty, better dressed etc, than me. So all I can really offer is a pathetic watered down analysis.
First, it's too long, far too long. Everyone's said it, and it's true. I believe the run time is about 37 and half hours: it should be an hour and half tops. Seriously, Peter. You have a monkey, you have a building, you have a girl. An hour and half is plenty of time for you to tell that story. But as long as it was, they still could have added a scene where Naomi Watts grabbed a coat, a jack, a shawl, anything, to cover herself up in the final scene. Winter in New York and on top of the Empire State Building? If the planes didn't kill her, then pneumonia certainly will.
The special effects are, indeed, special and effective. But, as with the run time, it’s all too much. Yes, it's awfully impressive that you can have a fake gorilla fight three fake dinosaurs, but when it goes on as long as the Ali-Frazier fight, it becomes significantly less impressive. Similarly, it's glorious that you can have Kong slide and scamper around on the ice of Central Park and that his fur moves the way fur is supposed to move and all that, but do you need to include that 20 minute vaudville routine when you're building to climax? I think a far better use of 1.5 million special effects artists would have been putting them to work on making Adrian Brody look somewhat human.
That said, I did like the film and was generally entertained (well, until the afore mentioned ice skating sequence, which was, frankly, just plain silly). The casting was first rate (Jack Black and Naomi Watts in particular); and the story is interesting (giant gorilla smashes stuff real good" is a classic plot); but I really don't think this film topped the achievements of the original film. The effects of the original Kong were MORE revolutionary at the time than WETA's effects are now. The only real improvement is found the scene when Kong, looking for Naomi Watts' character, picks up random blondes off the street and throws them over his shoulder when he discovers they're not Watts.
But of course alll of this is moot when compared to the profound moral lesson articulated in the final frames by Jack Black: it was beauty that killed the beast... and obviously guns... and probably the fall of the Empire State Building helped a little bit.
First, it's too long, far too long. Everyone's said it, and it's true. I believe the run time is about 37 and half hours: it should be an hour and half tops. Seriously, Peter. You have a monkey, you have a building, you have a girl. An hour and half is plenty of time for you to tell that story. But as long as it was, they still could have added a scene where Naomi Watts grabbed a coat, a jack, a shawl, anything, to cover herself up in the final scene. Winter in New York and on top of the Empire State Building? If the planes didn't kill her, then pneumonia certainly will.
The special effects are, indeed, special and effective. But, as with the run time, it’s all too much. Yes, it's awfully impressive that you can have a fake gorilla fight three fake dinosaurs, but when it goes on as long as the Ali-Frazier fight, it becomes significantly less impressive. Similarly, it's glorious that you can have Kong slide and scamper around on the ice of Central Park and that his fur moves the way fur is supposed to move and all that, but do you need to include that 20 minute vaudville routine when you're building to climax? I think a far better use of 1.5 million special effects artists would have been putting them to work on making Adrian Brody look somewhat human.
That said, I did like the film and was generally entertained (well, until the afore mentioned ice skating sequence, which was, frankly, just plain silly). The casting was first rate (Jack Black and Naomi Watts in particular); and the story is interesting (giant gorilla smashes stuff real good" is a classic plot); but I really don't think this film topped the achievements of the original film. The effects of the original Kong were MORE revolutionary at the time than WETA's effects are now. The only real improvement is found the scene when Kong, looking for Naomi Watts' character, picks up random blondes off the street and throws them over his shoulder when he discovers they're not Watts.
But of course alll of this is moot when compared to the profound moral lesson articulated in the final frames by Jack Black: it was beauty that killed the beast... and obviously guns... and probably the fall of the Empire State Building helped a little bit.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Pretty fly (for a white guy)
As the year has now come to an end, I think it's time that I, for the sake of king and country, prosperity and the what-not, compose some sort of list. That's what New Year's is for, isn't it? Lists and ridiculous resolutions that you really have no intention of keeping?
Let's start with Literature.
Since I read an incredible amount (of books no one really cares about) for work, I'll try to limit this "Best of" to books I hadn't read before, that I enjoyed and that I believe others, somewhere, might benefit from.
1) Neil Gaiman. Read a few of his books this year and they were all fantastic. If you like fantasy and you've not heard of this man, get some of his books. American Gods and Neverwhere were personal favourites.
2) Evelyn Waugh. Read a couple of his books for my last comprehensive exam and I really like his dry wit. Taught Vile Bodies this past semester, and though not everyone liked it, I believe most of them read it - which is something of a minor miracle.
3) Graham Greene's Ministry of Fear. Hadn't read this one before. Great psychological thriller set in WW2.
4) post-rapture radio by Russell Rathburn. Christian fiction that wasn't set either 1)a hundred years ago or 2) a rural town with quirky characters. Smart, funny.
5) Cavell on Film. My advisor turned me on to philosopher Stanley Cavell a couple of years ago. This is the latest volume of previously uncollected material. Heady, but there are few people producing the kind of quality work in film studies as Cavell.
6) Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz. Two Christian books on one list? That has to be some sort of record. If more Christians approached questions of faith with the insight, honesty and humanity that Miller does, people wouldn't tune them out.
7) Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by David Eggers. Few books make me laugh out loud and want to throw them down in frustration all at the same time.
8) Colin MacCabe's Eloquence of the Vulgar. A bit heady, but a brilliant analysis of culture/pop culture.
9) Notes from Underground. Am I a 19th century Russian bureaucrat?
10) Long Way Down. It's the new Nick Hornsby novel, which, in all fairness, I've only just started but I think it'll be good. I wasn't crazy about his last one (How to be Good), but so far this is more About a Boy/High Fidelity.
New Movies
1) Chronicles of Narina. Damn.
Honourable mentions: Pride and Prejudice. Call me a sissy, this was a solid film. King Kong. This was a ridiculously long film, which occasionally felt like watching someone else play a video game, but it was good. It just needed about an hour cut out of it. Serenity. Still bitter about Wash and Book, but an entertaining film. What Star Wars: Episodes 1-3 SHOULD have been.
Television
1) "Veronica Mars." Pick it back up, CTV-morons!
2) "House." If there's a better actor than Hugh Laurie on regular, week to week TV, I'd like to see it.
3) "Smallville". Superman cum Dawson's Creek. And that Lana is just so darn cute!
4) "Kitchen Confidential." I have no idea if this show's still going or if it's cancelled, but this was a smart and inventive show.
And the "What happened to that show?" mention: "Alias". Okay, so you kill off Vaughan after implying he's been a bad guy all along; the lead actress gets pregnant with an Affleck-spawn, but you write the pregnancy into the storylines so that a cool, kick-ass spy CAN'T DO THE COOL ASS KICKING WE ALL LOVE HER FOR!'CAUSE SHE"S ALL KNOCKED UP: then you stick in a bunch of new faces for what you've admitted is your FINAL SEASON! J.J. Abrams: please stop ignoring you shows. You're going to need as much as possible to fall back on when Mission Impossible 3 tanks at the box-office.
Let's start with Literature.
Since I read an incredible amount (of books no one really cares about) for work, I'll try to limit this "Best of" to books I hadn't read before, that I enjoyed and that I believe others, somewhere, might benefit from.
1) Neil Gaiman. Read a few of his books this year and they were all fantastic. If you like fantasy and you've not heard of this man, get some of his books. American Gods and Neverwhere were personal favourites.
2) Evelyn Waugh. Read a couple of his books for my last comprehensive exam and I really like his dry wit. Taught Vile Bodies this past semester, and though not everyone liked it, I believe most of them read it - which is something of a minor miracle.
3) Graham Greene's Ministry of Fear. Hadn't read this one before. Great psychological thriller set in WW2.
4) post-rapture radio by Russell Rathburn. Christian fiction that wasn't set either 1)a hundred years ago or 2) a rural town with quirky characters. Smart, funny.
5) Cavell on Film. My advisor turned me on to philosopher Stanley Cavell a couple of years ago. This is the latest volume of previously uncollected material. Heady, but there are few people producing the kind of quality work in film studies as Cavell.
6) Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz. Two Christian books on one list? That has to be some sort of record. If more Christians approached questions of faith with the insight, honesty and humanity that Miller does, people wouldn't tune them out.
7) Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by David Eggers. Few books make me laugh out loud and want to throw them down in frustration all at the same time.
8) Colin MacCabe's Eloquence of the Vulgar. A bit heady, but a brilliant analysis of culture/pop culture.
9) Notes from Underground. Am I a 19th century Russian bureaucrat?
10) Long Way Down. It's the new Nick Hornsby novel, which, in all fairness, I've only just started but I think it'll be good. I wasn't crazy about his last one (How to be Good), but so far this is more About a Boy/High Fidelity.
New Movies
1) Chronicles of Narina. Damn.
Honourable mentions: Pride and Prejudice. Call me a sissy, this was a solid film. King Kong. This was a ridiculously long film, which occasionally felt like watching someone else play a video game, but it was good. It just needed about an hour cut out of it. Serenity. Still bitter about Wash and Book, but an entertaining film. What Star Wars: Episodes 1-3 SHOULD have been.
Television
1) "Veronica Mars." Pick it back up, CTV-morons!
2) "House." If there's a better actor than Hugh Laurie on regular, week to week TV, I'd like to see it.
3) "Smallville". Superman cum Dawson's Creek. And that Lana is just so darn cute!
4) "Kitchen Confidential." I have no idea if this show's still going or if it's cancelled, but this was a smart and inventive show.
And the "What happened to that show?" mention: "Alias". Okay, so you kill off Vaughan after implying he's been a bad guy all along; the lead actress gets pregnant with an Affleck-spawn, but you write the pregnancy into the storylines so that a cool, kick-ass spy CAN'T DO THE COOL ASS KICKING WE ALL LOVE HER FOR!'CAUSE SHE"S ALL KNOCKED UP: then you stick in a bunch of new faces for what you've admitted is your FINAL SEASON! J.J. Abrams: please stop ignoring you shows. You're going to need as much as possible to fall back on when Mission Impossible 3 tanks at the box-office.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Survey Time
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Mike
2. Michael (used to be only my grandmother ever called me that, but now it's more common)
3. Mizzle... no, not really
THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Um, sense of humour.
2. er, I think I'm very personible (unless you cross me)
3. and I'm exactly the right height (for what, I haven't yet discovered)
THREE THINGS YOU HATE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Procrastinating nature
2. my mistakes
3. my inability to fly
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. English
2. Scottish
3. German
THREE THINGS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND:
1. People, more specifically women. Someone should write a book.
2. Quantum physics
3. Paris Hilton
THREE THINGS THAT ANNOY YOU:
1. People who expect you to go to the mat for them, but won't return the favour
2. Line dancing
3. Games
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Line dancing
2. needles
3. ...dark alleys at night; dark alleys during the day, however, are perfectly acceptable
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Music - can't have the soundtrack of your life be the rustling of your jeans as you walk, you NEED TUNES!
2. Food - good food, mind you
3. affection
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Pjs
2. grey t shirt
3. fluffy wooly socks that have recently been darned
THREE THINGS YOU SAY THE MOST:
1. Fine (which has, in my vocabulary, about three hundred different meanings
2. Sorry
3. Tis
FIVE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS AT THE MOMENT:
1. Beatles - always number one
2. Franz Ferdinand
3. Wolf Parade
4. The Who
5. Velvet Underground
THREE REASONS YOU'VE BROKEN UP WITH EXES:
1. insanity
2. sexuality (hers, not mine)
3. Bad timing
THREE THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. Personality - must have one, and it should be a good one
2. Appearance - not to seem crash, but let's be honest, if she has a third eye or 2nd degree burns she's not APPEALING (this is not to say I couldn't get past appearance either)
3. Ability to dance
THREE THINGS YOU CAN'T DO:
1. Dance
2. Watch "Everybody Loves Raymond"
3. Give blood
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES
1. Reading
2. Watching movies (though that is more work)
3. Accumulating pointless trivia to bore people with
THREE THINGS YOU WANT REALLY BAD RIGHT NOW:
1. A drink
2. Another game for my Gameboy
3. My next chapter to be finished
THREE PLACES YOU WOULD GO ON VACATION:
1. TO - home and I love Toronto; don't care who knows it
2. Some place tropical
3. England - I love England and I don't care who knows it.
1. Mike
2. Michael (used to be only my grandmother ever called me that, but now it's more common)
3. Mizzle... no, not really
THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Um, sense of humour.
2. er, I think I'm very personible (unless you cross me)
3. and I'm exactly the right height (for what, I haven't yet discovered)
THREE THINGS YOU HATE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Procrastinating nature
2. my mistakes
3. my inability to fly
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. English
2. Scottish
3. German
THREE THINGS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND:
1. People, more specifically women. Someone should write a book.
2. Quantum physics
3. Paris Hilton
THREE THINGS THAT ANNOY YOU:
1. People who expect you to go to the mat for them, but won't return the favour
2. Line dancing
3. Games
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Line dancing
2. needles
3. ...dark alleys at night; dark alleys during the day, however, are perfectly acceptable
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Music - can't have the soundtrack of your life be the rustling of your jeans as you walk, you NEED TUNES!
2. Food - good food, mind you
3. affection
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Pjs
2. grey t shirt
3. fluffy wooly socks that have recently been darned
THREE THINGS YOU SAY THE MOST:
1. Fine (which has, in my vocabulary, about three hundred different meanings
2. Sorry
3. Tis
FIVE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS AT THE MOMENT:
1. Beatles - always number one
2. Franz Ferdinand
3. Wolf Parade
4. The Who
5. Velvet Underground
THREE REASONS YOU'VE BROKEN UP WITH EXES:
1. insanity
2. sexuality (hers, not mine)
3. Bad timing
THREE THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. Personality - must have one, and it should be a good one
2. Appearance - not to seem crash, but let's be honest, if she has a third eye or 2nd degree burns she's not APPEALING (this is not to say I couldn't get past appearance either)
3. Ability to dance
THREE THINGS YOU CAN'T DO:
1. Dance
2. Watch "Everybody Loves Raymond"
3. Give blood
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES
1. Reading
2. Watching movies (though that is more work)
3. Accumulating pointless trivia to bore people with
THREE THINGS YOU WANT REALLY BAD RIGHT NOW:
1. A drink
2. Another game for my Gameboy
3. My next chapter to be finished
THREE PLACES YOU WOULD GO ON VACATION:
1. TO - home and I love Toronto; don't care who knows it
2. Some place tropical
3. England - I love England and I don't care who knows it.
It's beginning to look a lot....
... last year. And the year before that. And the year before that.
Well, the fun of holidays is now officially over. I got up this morning, putzed around for a while, and then headed out to figure out what I'm going to do this semester. I have it narrowed down to either 1) interesting and thoughtful analysis of literature or 2) wacky made up stuff, an intricate web of lies to suit my fickle whims. Meh, I got another day or so to decide, right? No rush.
Finished my first chapter of the dissertation last night. It'll likely need some editing, but to have a mostly completed chapter sitting there, staring at me, is both strangely comforting and unnerving. Just four more (and a brilliant introduction that ties everything together) to go. No sweat.
Listening to: Badly Drawn Boy's The Hour of Bewilderbeast - a fan-freakin'-tastic album.
Well, the fun of holidays is now officially over. I got up this morning, putzed around for a while, and then headed out to figure out what I'm going to do this semester. I have it narrowed down to either 1) interesting and thoughtful analysis of literature or 2) wacky made up stuff, an intricate web of lies to suit my fickle whims. Meh, I got another day or so to decide, right? No rush.
Finished my first chapter of the dissertation last night. It'll likely need some editing, but to have a mostly completed chapter sitting there, staring at me, is both strangely comforting and unnerving. Just four more (and a brilliant introduction that ties everything together) to go. No sweat.
Listening to: Badly Drawn Boy's The Hour of Bewilderbeast - a fan-freakin'-tastic album.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
So THAT was Christmas?
Happy Holidays! Happy New Year and whatever other well wishes you think you deserve. All right: pleasantries out of the way, down to business.
The holidays were, mostly, fine. I did find myself trapped with two very sick people for the greater (and I mean that strictly in terms of quantity) part of my time in Saskatoon. So I spent a good deal of the time washing my hands and staying out of the path of germs.
We did stay a little longer than we expected to, as the weather was not cooperating with us. Stupid weather. By Friday we figured we'd risk it and drove from Saskatoon to Regina in a thick fog. Once we were out of Regina, the fog let up and it was pretty much smooth sailing the rest of the way to Winnipeg.
Part of the reason for "risking it" was that we'd been invited to a wedding for New Year's Eve. Fortunately, we made it back and headed up to Gimli (not the dwarf) for hands down the GREATEST wedding I've ever been to. The only drawn back was that we hardly knew anyone there. Once the table we were seated with left, Rachel and I were pretty much on our own. Still, I had a nice time nursing a Dark Ale and watching people dance - there's something strangely surreal about a heavy set dude in a cowboy hat dancing enthusiastically and singing along to "Any Man of Mine" by Shania Twain. Less surreal and more frightening was the Grizzly Adams looking guy, who hand an inch thick ring through his nose, stunk of putchelli and flung his body around the floor like he was having some sort of fit. Maybe he was having a fit? Who knows. Closer to midnight Rachel and I took to the floor and, um, danced on it: she danced well, I...not so much. But I had (some) fun, and I didn’t hurt anyone.
The holidays were, mostly, fine. I did find myself trapped with two very sick people for the greater (and I mean that strictly in terms of quantity) part of my time in Saskatoon. So I spent a good deal of the time washing my hands and staying out of the path of germs.
We did stay a little longer than we expected to, as the weather was not cooperating with us. Stupid weather. By Friday we figured we'd risk it and drove from Saskatoon to Regina in a thick fog. Once we were out of Regina, the fog let up and it was pretty much smooth sailing the rest of the way to Winnipeg.
Part of the reason for "risking it" was that we'd been invited to a wedding for New Year's Eve. Fortunately, we made it back and headed up to Gimli (not the dwarf) for hands down the GREATEST wedding I've ever been to. The only drawn back was that we hardly knew anyone there. Once the table we were seated with left, Rachel and I were pretty much on our own. Still, I had a nice time nursing a Dark Ale and watching people dance - there's something strangely surreal about a heavy set dude in a cowboy hat dancing enthusiastically and singing along to "Any Man of Mine" by Shania Twain. Less surreal and more frightening was the Grizzly Adams looking guy, who hand an inch thick ring through his nose, stunk of putchelli and flung his body around the floor like he was having some sort of fit. Maybe he was having a fit? Who knows. Closer to midnight Rachel and I took to the floor and, um, danced on it: she danced well, I...not so much. But I had (some) fun, and I didn’t hurt anyone.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Most highly favoured lady
One of the reasons that I like Christmas is that I can use a few Latin phrases and not look like a complete and utter loser. Gloria in excelsis At least those three years of Latin weren't wasted
And what was in those ships of three?
Likely this'll be the final post of 2005. Man, 2005! When I was a kid I imagined 2005 as this Star-Trekkie future world of flying cars and tin-foil pants. Who knew? So I wanna wish anyone reading this a Happy and Merry Christmas and as-best-as-it-can-be New Year!
I woke up the other morning and it was -29 degrees here in Winnipeg. I kid you not. I went outside to start the car and my face burned. When I put the key in the ignition, my car said to me, "You're kidding, right?" But Petey's a good car, and he started after a little grumbling.
As certain as egg nog and mistletoe (okay, since no one actually has mistletoe anymore make that holly), contemplation has become one of the things unpacked and put up every Christmas, I've been thinking a lot about friends old and new and loved ones. These past few weeks I've reconnected with some dear friends, one from long, long ago and a galaxy far, far away (Oshawa), two from the past few years. We don't tell people what they mean to us as often as we should. Though I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions, I'd like to think that this will be mine: I'll try to tell people who matter how much they mean. Of course, this will likely either fail miserably in the first week of 2006, or cause a whole lotta (more) people to avoid me like the plague.
I woke up the other morning and it was -29 degrees here in Winnipeg. I kid you not. I went outside to start the car and my face burned. When I put the key in the ignition, my car said to me, "You're kidding, right?" But Petey's a good car, and he started after a little grumbling.
As certain as egg nog and mistletoe (okay, since no one actually has mistletoe anymore make that holly), contemplation has become one of the things unpacked and put up every Christmas, I've been thinking a lot about friends old and new and loved ones. These past few weeks I've reconnected with some dear friends, one from long, long ago and a galaxy far, far away (Oshawa), two from the past few years. We don't tell people what they mean to us as often as we should. Though I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions, I'd like to think that this will be mine: I'll try to tell people who matter how much they mean. Of course, this will likely either fail miserably in the first week of 2006, or cause a whole lotta (more) people to avoid me like the plague.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
It's the most wonderful time of the year
All right, it's not. But it's not too bad. It certainly could be much worse.
It's a virtual winter wonderland here in Winnipeg. It's been snowing for about 3 days straight. Luckily it's not too cold, so you can actually go outside and enjoy it a bit. I was waiting for a bus on Portage and was a middle aged man in a calf-length FUR COAT and MATCHING FUR HAT. It was glorious.
Last night we were invited to a carolling party a few blocks from our house. It was fun, but so many of the songs they sang were in German. Childishly, I giggled whenever we sang German words that look like some word in English (like "Nun"; my favourite was "Freud"... my mind came up with all kinds of delightfully inappropiate senarios for that carol).
There are stacks of essays and exams piled up around me, waiting to be marked. I hate marking. I love (or usually love) teaching, but marking is so tedious. Still, classes are over, exams finished. Now, if people could just figure out the difference between "desire" and "deserve".
It's a virtual winter wonderland here in Winnipeg. It's been snowing for about 3 days straight. Luckily it's not too cold, so you can actually go outside and enjoy it a bit. I was waiting for a bus on Portage and was a middle aged man in a calf-length FUR COAT and MATCHING FUR HAT. It was glorious.
Last night we were invited to a carolling party a few blocks from our house. It was fun, but so many of the songs they sang were in German. Childishly, I giggled whenever we sang German words that look like some word in English (like "Nun"; my favourite was "Freud"... my mind came up with all kinds of delightfully inappropiate senarios for that carol).
There are stacks of essays and exams piled up around me, waiting to be marked. I hate marking. I love (or usually love) teaching, but marking is so tedious. Still, classes are over, exams finished. Now, if people could just figure out the difference between "desire" and "deserve".
Saturday, December 10, 2005
So this is Christmas?
Being the culturally sensitive Renaissance man that I am, I've always been curious about the ways other countries spin the story of Christmas. I'm not talking about Jesus in the lowly cattleshed or anything, but the extras, the frills we've mixed into the story. I think we've become a tad complacent in our understanding of the holiday; our Santa, we assume, is everyone's Santa. Not so.
While the tradition of presents giving seems to be common to most Christian cultures' tradition, who gives the presents to the children varies. Faeries, saints, Christmas witches, even the Christ-child himself (though I imagine his arms would be somewhat restricted by the swaddling clothes) are all thought to bring treats and presents to deserving children. But of all the present-bestowing folk associated with Christmas, my favourite has to be Black Peter from the Netherlands.
In fairness, Black Peter is depicted as the associate (to be read: slave) of St Nicholas, the common Christmas saint who serves as the model of our Santa Claus. See, during the Middle Ages, the Dutch called the Devil "Black Peter." Somehow, as Dutch Christmas traditions were sorting themselves out, it was believed that St. Nick enslaved "Black Peter" and made him hand out presents to the good little Dutch children on the night before St. Nicholas Day (December 6). And if the children weren't all that good? Well, no lump o' coal in Holland. The children were said to be kidnapped by Black Peter. As the legend evolved, the representation of Black Peter took on political overtones. He became dark-skinned and dressed in the costume of Moorish Spain, for whom the Dutch had a particular hatred for having been controlled by Spain for a time. And where does Black Peter take the naughty children? Spain.
A friend of mine, Chuck, was telling me about growing up in Holland. He remembers being in school and having St Nicholas and Black Peter turn up to give presents to the students at an assembly. One little boy in particular was, according to Chuck, a notorious troublemaker, a real jerk. When Nick and Pete came to that kid, let's call him Johnny, St Nicholas looked down at and said in a booming voice, "And you, Johnny have been very naughty." With that Black Peter picked Johnny up and stuffed him in the sack that had held the presents. Apparently Johnny was always much better behaved after that.
While the tradition of presents giving seems to be common to most Christian cultures' tradition, who gives the presents to the children varies. Faeries, saints, Christmas witches, even the Christ-child himself (though I imagine his arms would be somewhat restricted by the swaddling clothes) are all thought to bring treats and presents to deserving children. But of all the present-bestowing folk associated with Christmas, my favourite has to be Black Peter from the Netherlands.
In fairness, Black Peter is depicted as the associate (to be read: slave) of St Nicholas, the common Christmas saint who serves as the model of our Santa Claus. See, during the Middle Ages, the Dutch called the Devil "Black Peter." Somehow, as Dutch Christmas traditions were sorting themselves out, it was believed that St. Nick enslaved "Black Peter" and made him hand out presents to the good little Dutch children on the night before St. Nicholas Day (December 6). And if the children weren't all that good? Well, no lump o' coal in Holland. The children were said to be kidnapped by Black Peter. As the legend evolved, the representation of Black Peter took on political overtones. He became dark-skinned and dressed in the costume of Moorish Spain, for whom the Dutch had a particular hatred for having been controlled by Spain for a time. And where does Black Peter take the naughty children? Spain.
A friend of mine, Chuck, was telling me about growing up in Holland. He remembers being in school and having St Nicholas and Black Peter turn up to give presents to the students at an assembly. One little boy in particular was, according to Chuck, a notorious troublemaker, a real jerk. When Nick and Pete came to that kid, let's call him Johnny, St Nicholas looked down at and said in a booming voice, "And you, Johnny have been very naughty." With that Black Peter picked Johnny up and stuffed him in the sack that had held the presents. Apparently Johnny was always much better behaved after that.
Friday, December 09, 2005
I know that you can love me, when there's no one left to blame
So, I just got back from seeing an afternoon screening of Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. This film is, for me, a more important film then the much loved Lord of the Rings trilogy, because, well, to be honest, I've actually read The Chronicles of Narnia when I was young. And while I have come to read and love Tolkien's books in my adulthood, there's something akin to a deeper, truer love for C.S. Lewis's stories because I loved them in childhood. Yes, there was a cartoon and that BBC thing in the 1980s, but they were both, to be frank, crap. Men in beaver suits does not Narnia make!
And I was not disappointed.
I thought this films was brilliant. The writers/diretor fleshed out the right things by contextualizing the story within the evacuation of London during World War 2. The animals and creatures, always been a problem with adapting LW&W, looked spectular. And the White Witch was strangely erotic.
And I was not disappointed.
I thought this films was brilliant. The writers/diretor fleshed out the right things by contextualizing the story within the evacuation of London during World War 2. The animals and creatures, always been a problem with adapting LW&W, looked spectular. And the White Witch was strangely erotic.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
It was Christmas Eve, babe, in the drunktank
All right, I am sore today: So yesterday morning, I was taking our recycling out to the curb (like the hip, environmentally conscious guy I am). When I got outside, I realized that the truck had already been by. Nothing else to do but return the blue box to the basement and hope I don't miss it next week, right? Well, I open the door, take one step on the stairs descending to the basement and... ffffoomp. My feet, still wet with snow, slip right out from beneath me and I go crashing down the stairs. Apparently I was graceful (and quiet) enough both not to wake my neighbours, whose bedroom door in about 4 feet from where I went down or drop the recycling box. My lower back swollen and an attractive magenta, but I held on to that box, dammit.
Last days of both my half semester courses yesterday and today. The less said the better.
Going to go see The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe this weekend, and I'm quite excited by that. There are few films on the horizon that have peaked my interest. One that I was looking forward to, but am now excepting to be totally and utterly disappointed, is X-men 3. Saw a photo of BEast/Hank McCoy, one of my favourite characters from the comic... and he looks like a gay werewolf. Check it out for yourselves. FABuLOUS Beast
It's coming on to Christmas and that means Christmas music is playing. So here's a question: What Christmas songs (including version by different artists) do you absolutely love? I'll get the ball rollin, 'cause, well, it's my blog and everything; Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without The Pogues' "The Fairytale of New York", the greatest Christmas song of the 20th century. What other Christmas song has a line like "You're bum! You're a punk! You're an old slut on junk?" I get a little misty just thinking about it.
Last days of both my half semester courses yesterday and today. The less said the better.
Going to go see The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe this weekend, and I'm quite excited by that. There are few films on the horizon that have peaked my interest. One that I was looking forward to, but am now excepting to be totally and utterly disappointed, is X-men 3. Saw a photo of BEast/Hank McCoy, one of my favourite characters from the comic... and he looks like a gay werewolf. Check it out for yourselves. FABuLOUS Beast
It's coming on to Christmas and that means Christmas music is playing. So here's a question: What Christmas songs (including version by different artists) do you absolutely love? I'll get the ball rollin, 'cause, well, it's my blog and everything; Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without The Pogues' "The Fairytale of New York", the greatest Christmas song of the 20th century. What other Christmas song has a line like "You're bum! You're a punk! You're an old slut on junk?" I get a little misty just thinking about it.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Do you hear what i hear?
All right, it's FREEZING in Winnipeg today. We're talking North Polar, chill to the bone cold. I hate this time of year. People balk when they hear about how truly cold it can get in Manitoba, but in all honesty these Artic tempertures are bearable but they do take some getting used to. It's the first couple of weeks that are the hardest, as your body readjusts to the need for hats, scarves, multi-layers, and thermal underwear. I opted not to wear thermal underwear this morning, and got to experience the completely unpleasant burning that comes from wearing jeans in minus 30 degree weather.
There's something disconcerting about standing at a bus stop with a dozen or so other people, people who you're not sure if you know because everyone has only as much skin exposed as is feasible. In fact you're often not even sure of the gender, as everyone has a non-descript puffy shape.
There's something disconcerting about standing at a bus stop with a dozen or so other people, people who you're not sure if you know because everyone has only as much skin exposed as is feasible. In fact you're often not even sure of the gender, as everyone has a non-descript puffy shape.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
I want to be good, is that not enough?
My friend Matt emailed with some disturbing news: the run time on the new Woody Allen film is over 2 hours. Shocking? Maybe not as much as anthrax or the rising number of teenagers with syphilis, but as a former Allen fan, I think it ranks right up there because it adds credibility to my theory that Woody Allen has lost his mind. Let's look at evidence:
1) He's no longer shooting in New York. Apparently it's just getting to be too much of a hassle to shoot in New York. Allen's currently amoured with London, after shooting his lastest film there. Now he wants to set all his films there. But can you think about Woody and NOT think New York? The guy's a New York institution, like the Mets or the Yankees or the Dodgers... okay, forget that last one. Allen's screen-persona needs New York and is unable to function in any other city. Long shots of Allen and his 20-something love interests walking around Kensington Park or strolling along the Thames just ain't right.
2) Medicore Television actresses. Starting around Deconstructing Harry, Allen has had a BIZARRE fascination with tv actresses. Apparently he cast Elizabeth Berkley (of Showgirls infamy) after catching a "Saved by the Bell" rerun while he was working up. Perhaps he was using a rowing mahcine and couldn't change the channel. I suppose we should all thank God he didn't see the one with Screech in drag.
3) Drawer films. The last few Allen films to hit theatres (well, select theatres, anyway) have been what he refers to as "Drawer" pictures - scripts or treatments he wrote decades ago and having beed sitting in his bottom drawer, gathering dust. I know his "one picture" a year thing is absolutely incredible in this day and age, but maybe it's time to slow down. If you're making crap you yourself hide, maybe it's time to take a break. What's next? Adapting an old grade school play or a story he wrote in high school?
4) Two hour running time. Allen should be contractly obligated to turn in a 82-85 minute film. Since Annie Hall, Allen's best films have been in the 80 minute range. His humour will NOT work with a Titantic-like run-time.
1) He's no longer shooting in New York. Apparently it's just getting to be too much of a hassle to shoot in New York. Allen's currently amoured with London, after shooting his lastest film there. Now he wants to set all his films there. But can you think about Woody and NOT think New York? The guy's a New York institution, like the Mets or the Yankees or the Dodgers... okay, forget that last one. Allen's screen-persona needs New York and is unable to function in any other city. Long shots of Allen and his 20-something love interests walking around Kensington Park or strolling along the Thames just ain't right.
2) Medicore Television actresses. Starting around Deconstructing Harry, Allen has had a BIZARRE fascination with tv actresses. Apparently he cast Elizabeth Berkley (of Showgirls infamy) after catching a "Saved by the Bell" rerun while he was working up. Perhaps he was using a rowing mahcine and couldn't change the channel. I suppose we should all thank God he didn't see the one with Screech in drag.
3) Drawer films. The last few Allen films to hit theatres (well, select theatres, anyway) have been what he refers to as "Drawer" pictures - scripts or treatments he wrote decades ago and having beed sitting in his bottom drawer, gathering dust. I know his "one picture" a year thing is absolutely incredible in this day and age, but maybe it's time to slow down. If you're making crap you yourself hide, maybe it's time to take a break. What's next? Adapting an old grade school play or a story he wrote in high school?
4) Two hour running time. Allen should be contractly obligated to turn in a 82-85 minute film. Since Annie Hall, Allen's best films have been in the 80 minute range. His humour will NOT work with a Titantic-like run-time.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer
Well, the weekend's finally over. Thank God for small miracles. Those of you "in the know" are aware that my wife's resignation was finally made public this past Sunday. It's been a whirlwind of mixed emotions: stress, relief, sadness. They've all been there and present at one point or another. Of course, I might feel differently, less relieved, if I hadn't spent most of Sunday hiding away from people, away from the questions and the whys and the whatnots.
Of course, the real kicker is that after a stressful weekend, I go to work today and it's utterly INSANE at the U of M Press. Apparently everyone in Manitoba, from places I've never even heard before, was trying to order books from us to beat, and I'm quoting here, "the Christmas rush." I was forced to criss-cross the campus a bunch of times (freezing, 'cause I'm too cool to wear a coat, let alone a hat or mittens), carrying huge boxes of books. Everytime I'd return to the office (with another 40 lbs box under my arm) I'd be handed one more order that "needed" to be filled. Like anyone, on Christmas morning, is going to thank Santa and their lucky stars that they got A National Crime: The Canadian government and the residential school system, 1879 to 1986 under the tree! If someone gave me that as a Christmas present, I'd kick them in their knee caps.
So, what else is going on?Well, I got a chance to watch the new Pride and Prejudice with the angelic Kiera Knightley. A solid adaptation, and I highly recommend it to fans of Austen.
"Smallville"... "Dawson's Creek" if Dawson could run really fast and had super strength. In other words: high addictive; like crack or pumpkin pie.
Of course, the real kicker is that after a stressful weekend, I go to work today and it's utterly INSANE at the U of M Press. Apparently everyone in Manitoba, from places I've never even heard before, was trying to order books from us to beat, and I'm quoting here, "the Christmas rush." I was forced to criss-cross the campus a bunch of times (freezing, 'cause I'm too cool to wear a coat, let alone a hat or mittens), carrying huge boxes of books. Everytime I'd return to the office (with another 40 lbs box under my arm) I'd be handed one more order that "needed" to be filled. Like anyone, on Christmas morning, is going to thank Santa and their lucky stars that they got A National Crime: The Canadian government and the residential school system, 1879 to 1986 under the tree! If someone gave me that as a Christmas present, I'd kick them in their knee caps.
So, what else is going on?Well, I got a chance to watch the new Pride and Prejudice with the angelic Kiera Knightley. A solid adaptation, and I highly recommend it to fans of Austen.
"Smallville"... "Dawson's Creek" if Dawson could run really fast and had super strength. In other words: high addictive; like crack or pumpkin pie.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Here comes the twister
I know: I haven't written in a while, but... I'm still not convinced people read this.
Anyway, we had a big snowstorm, which shut the one school I was supposed to be teaching at down completely. Of course, I managed to make it in for my 8:30 am class. As I trudged up the steps, my eyes fell on a 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of white paper. "All classes cancelled due to weather." After waiting an hour for a bus, after stomping through half a foot of unshovelled snow, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Driving out to Otterburne, Manitoba the day after the storm wasn't much fun. I could only go 60 km on the highway (poorly plowed as they were), and when I got there I discovered that the parking lot I've been assigned to use wasn't plowed at all. Grrrrrr. So I'm to drive 2 hours on dangerous roads only to get stuck AT SCHOOL? No way, Jose. Without asking (or even telling) I reassigned my parking space.
Sometimes I wonder why we moved to this crazy province.
Anyway, we had a big snowstorm, which shut the one school I was supposed to be teaching at down completely. Of course, I managed to make it in for my 8:30 am class. As I trudged up the steps, my eyes fell on a 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of white paper. "All classes cancelled due to weather." After waiting an hour for a bus, after stomping through half a foot of unshovelled snow, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Driving out to Otterburne, Manitoba the day after the storm wasn't much fun. I could only go 60 km on the highway (poorly plowed as they were), and when I got there I discovered that the parking lot I've been assigned to use wasn't plowed at all. Grrrrrr. So I'm to drive 2 hours on dangerous roads only to get stuck AT SCHOOL? No way, Jose. Without asking (or even telling) I reassigned my parking space.
Sometimes I wonder why we moved to this crazy province.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Take a look at the crow's feet sitting on the prettiest eyes
Went to a birthday party the other night... for a 2 year old. It's a strange thing to be at a party for a two year old: there's a bunch of kids, running around, getting sticky and causing each other no end of trouble; but there's also a whole group of adults, sitting around eating Dora the Explorer cake and not talking to each other. Who is this Dora, and why don't her parents watch her a little more carefully?
But how can you possibly get to know other adults, even parents, when there's a video of the Doodle-pops, or whatever the heck those things are called, playing? You can't.
But how can you possibly get to know other adults, even parents, when there's a video of the Doodle-pops, or whatever the heck those things are called, playing? You can't.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
And you may ask yourself, "Well, how did I get here?"
Sitting here, letting the days go by.
More silliness in class. Frustration. Apparently, the self-motivated, self-driected approach to the class was a mistake. Oh well. Into the blue again.
Long weekend coming up. That's good. Friday's Rememberance Day, which in Winnipeg is an actual holiday. I love days off!
Same as it ever was;
Same as it ever was.
More silliness in class. Frustration. Apparently, the self-motivated, self-driected approach to the class was a mistake. Oh well. Into the blue again.
Long weekend coming up. That's good. Friday's Rememberance Day, which in Winnipeg is an actual holiday. I love days off!
Same as it ever was;
Same as it ever was.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
I think you're smart, you sweet thing
Right. It feels like it should be Thursday (my Thursday being most people's Friday - it's a little confusing at first, but you get used to it).
So, I got up this morning a little later then usual and headed off to Booth for my 8:30 class. I gave the class last Thursday as a work class (ie, don't come to class) on the condition that they have a rough draft of an essay ready for today's class. And how many shiny little essays were on my desk this morning? Seven. From a class of twenty seven. Now, I'm a little rusty at the ol' maths, but that's not good.
Of course this completely screwed up my plans for the class. I was going to have them read and evaluate each other's papers; three papers per person. So people had to work in groups of two, sometimes three. They could only get through 2 papers because the paper had to be passed between two people. And to think, I was worried that, due to the way I designed the course, I was going to have too many "A"s; that's not much a concern any more.
So, I got up this morning a little later then usual and headed off to Booth for my 8:30 class. I gave the class last Thursday as a work class (ie, don't come to class) on the condition that they have a rough draft of an essay ready for today's class. And how many shiny little essays were on my desk this morning? Seven. From a class of twenty seven. Now, I'm a little rusty at the ol' maths, but that's not good.
Of course this completely screwed up my plans for the class. I was going to have them read and evaluate each other's papers; three papers per person. So people had to work in groups of two, sometimes three. They could only get through 2 papers because the paper had to be passed between two people. And to think, I was worried that, due to the way I designed the course, I was going to have too many "A"s; that's not much a concern any more.
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