First, let me interject a discussion najati and I had after I saw
Solaris this evening.

BenCorvus: Solaris
veggiebuddha: eh?
BenCorvus: saw it this evening
veggiebuddha: yes? where? what hw [hardware]?
BenCorvus: Solaris
BenCorvus: the movie :)
BenCorvus: you
BenCorvus: big
BenCorvus: dork
veggiebuddha: oh
veggiebuddha: lol

Now, most techies would get the joke there — but some of you, those spared from knowing that Solaris is an operating system created by Sun Microsystems, wouldn’t have. But I digress…

Anyway, I had heard that Solaris, the book was written by Stanislaw Lem, a Polish sci-fi writer of whom I had heard of, but heard little. Also, according to a colleague at work, there was also a longer, more detailed version produced in Russian during the early 70s.

What Hunter and I were faced with was a well-shot, well-scored film that wasted few frames and left those who cared to consider the film with much to discuss. Those who screened this film just too see George Clooney’s arse will be disappointed. Without saying much that will give away the film, it incites neither horror nor suspense, but something I think more valuable — thought, at least for those who care to think about what they watch.

(Click more to see the rest of my little capsule)

UPDATE 12.02.2002, 9:19AM EST: Judith Eggerton wrote me back. Read on to see her reply.
{more}
Let me first say that I find it wondefully amazing that this film made it to the screen. It’s not your typical space-drama, as Mrs. Eggerton from the Courier-Journal so wanted it to be. Soderbergh’s incarnation of this text is much more of a question to the viewer. Solaris, space, the timeframe in the future — they are all merely building blocks in a construct of a question, a riddle. The answer to this question lies truly with the viewer. Is Solaris “heaven”? Does “heaven” exist? How could man possibly define existence when all that he knows is his own? Where does Kelvin go at the end of the movie? Is he dead? Is he alive? Was he re-incarnated? All good questions, all easily answerable by any of the faiths, dogma, or mythology any of us have been steeped in.

Let me say that I have not read the book, though I would certainly like to. My thoughts and opinions are based solely on this theatrical release.

Oh, I’ve also written an email to Judith Eggerton at the Courier-Journal in response to her review of Solaris. Here my email is in it’s entirety:

[begin my email]

“Was that George Clooney’s butt or did we see a body double?”
“You expect a riveting and plausible science-fiction story when you consider the Hollywood power squad involved in making this picture.”

Some films do not need to pursue sex or action to entertain — as sometimes film may spark thought (gasp!) in it’s viewers, if they care to pay attention.

I agree in your assessment that to many this film could be considered slow, sluggish, and without the action that normally rides copilot into space. However, after viewing this film, I felt that it was less a plot-line than a construct of the viewer’s own thoughts of the universe. There are many things left unstated throughout the film, and even in the ending –things that are left to the viewing to fill in.

But then again — who goes to movie to “fill in details”, right?

All I may suggest is that sometimes — and this is rare — sometimes, movies are made not to entertain the fancies of the viewer — but to entertain the mind.

[end my email]

[begin Mrs. Eggerton's reply]

Thanks for your thoughts on Solaris.

I wish the movie had entertained my mind but it didn’t. I think it was
pretentious not profound.
Even the director appeared apologetic recently on Charlie Rose. Soderbergh
said he was exhausted from the string of movies that he’s made in the past
two to three years and that Solaris was a difficult movie. It shows.

[end Mrs. Eggerton's reply]

Just got back from Cinci, went to see Ben Kweller, and in the time between leaving the house and getting there, a cold has racked my body! Guinness provided me with some temporary and tasty relief whilst at the show (which was on-time, and ready-to-rock), but now I have quaffed the red potion — the nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, hello-floor-how-are-you-my-aren’t-you-comfortable medicine. Time for bed. Woman, bring my bed!

Some great photos will be posted soon, and Geoff, if you read this, I have a present for you that is delightfully BK-related.

So, a couple weeks ago, whilst dining on the buffet at Vivarazzi in wonderful down-town Jeffersontown, my comptriates and I were discussing absurd arcade games, and how great they are.

Mr. Rasnake, who normally goes by Matt, mentioned a game involving a large plastic finger, and a posterior mounted to an arcade cabinet. “Oh, it was on some page on the interweb,” he mentioned. Shocked at the fact that there were actually pictures of bottoms on the intarweb, I had to find out. Well, after searching for “japanese arcade finger butt” on google, I found a article on “Boong Ga Boong Ga” over at Wired (btw, this article has been dismissed by Japanologist-in-residence gary as being “bullshit”, in that he’s never seen the game, and it is by no means “sweeping Japan”, also it’s South Korean in origin).

In any case, my travails about the rolling countryside that is the intarweb led me to Syberpunk, a site dedicated to “the quirkiness of Japan”, in which I found their tribute to Boong Ga Boong Ga.

So yeah, their cell-phones are better, their games are wackier, and their women will wear t-shirts like this (see thumb to the right).

Why can’t we get Japanese t-shirts that say stuff like “my mother shucks oysters in continuous enjoyment” in Japanese?

Kelly and I went to see Michael Moore’s Bowling For Columbine on Tuesday night. While at times a bit scattershot and clingy to the heartstrings, the message gets through well enough. It was moving enough to have Kelly note “I think I need to see more things like that.” “Why, because it challenged your entire right-wing upbriging?” I asked. “Yeah, pretty much,” she answered. She never fails to amaze, that girl. That’s pretty much all I could ask for in a documentary like this, and calling it a documentary is at sometimes a stretch. Moore has stated a number of times that he doesn’t like being in front of the camera, and yet he’s probably on-screen a good 50% of the time in this film, which is a bit of a departure from his first film. So, despite the extremely personal and emotional notions that pepper this film, his point comes across clear and resounding: “There is no good reason why we should have 100 times the gun-murder rate in America that Canada has”.

We went to the Bluegrass Brewing Company’s Bluegrass Jam Night last night, and met up with Jackson Cooper, friend and pluckin’ bass player. There were quite a few folks there, many of them women (women fiddlers are HOT, make note of this). Banjos, mandolins, guitars, bass and fiddle were all present, and the clientele was as far-flung and varied as you could possibly imagine. Punk-rockers next to UK fans next to school marms. It was great.

So, I’ve just been listening to “Judy Is A Punk” by the Ramones over and over again, something akin to my “White Stripes” odyssey a couple of months back. I can’t get enough. Jackie is a punk! Judy is a runt!

Well, on Saturday, we threw-down and some folks threw-up on the belated occasion of Gary and Hunter’s birthday. Many a Guinness were consumed. Simulcast with Japan was achieved. There was dancing. There was carousing. And most of it was caught on digital film.

On a related note, my Aunt Cindy was in town, so mom brought her by to see the homestead, and we ate some tasty mexican food.

On an even further related note, I’ve moved a number of galleries into the family section, and even created a sub-gallery just for our pets.

Best line of the weekend: “Now, when we reach the door of Old Town Liquors, everyone put on their sober faces.”

i can think of no better song than The Ramones’ Judy is a Punk to intro characters in a movie (thanks to Wes Anderson).

Just give it a listen, and imagine the characters in a movie, one by one being freeze-framed and their name popping up. Tee-hee.

katrina here at work found a cat outside — he’s certainly affectionate, and purs a lot. He’s kinda rough and tumble. I think i’ll call him Bocephus.

update: see the bocephus gallery

yeah, i know what you are saying — BORING, but proofreading the Project Gutenberg texts in conjunction with thousands of others is an easy way to contribute to this project. check out the Distributed Proofreading project, and afterwards, go and read some ETexts.

watched scratch last night with hunter and najati. scratch is all about turntablism — the art of the DJ. it’s a strange art, for sure. it’s like a technological regression that spurs further progression, the use of outdated (to some) technology to create new sounds. while publically, they were being pushed into the background when rap really exploded in the 80′s, the faithful kept the movement alive. what resulted was a tightly knit group that kept mainly to themselves. While battling and sparring against each other had its charm, there were some outside of the group who said that the isolationism would do them no good, and some inside agreed. Scratch takes a wonderful look at the art, and portrays well not only the artistry of the music, but the culture of the scene as well.

Highly recommended, even for those who aren’t into hip-hop. The technical scenes are well documented, and the sound quality is EXCELLENT.

meet keith mcgill, a local comedian, and education specialist with the Louisville Science Center. We saw him last night at The Comedy Caravan, and tore up the joint! I enjoyed him more than the headliner, actually (as far as laughs-per-minute go).

also, he enjoys a good necktie.