Saturday, May 24, 2003
Here's some frightening tidbits of info that have been largely ignored by the American press (surprise, surprise).
"A BBC report is suggesting that the USÊhasÊused unadvertised and dangerous radioactive weaponry in Afghanistan. According to Alex Kirby's dispatch, Afghan citizens are now turning up with "astonishing" levels of uranium in their urine (and it's notÊfrom the depleted-uranium missiles we already know about). He quotes an official from the Washington-based Uranium Medical Research Center thus:Ê
"Independent monitoring of the weapon types and delivery systems indicate that radioactive, toxic uranium alloys and hard-target uranium warheads were being used by the coalition forces."
That's right. We nuked/poisoned/something the Afghans and didn't even have the decency to fess up to it. The whole article can be read here.
"A BBC report is suggesting that the USÊhasÊused unadvertised and dangerous radioactive weaponry in Afghanistan. According to Alex Kirby's dispatch, Afghan citizens are now turning up with "astonishing" levels of uranium in their urine (and it's notÊfrom the depleted-uranium missiles we already know about). He quotes an official from the Washington-based Uranium Medical Research Center thus:Ê
"Independent monitoring of the weapon types and delivery systems indicate that radioactive, toxic uranium alloys and hard-target uranium warheads were being used by the coalition forces."
That's right. We nuked/poisoned/something the Afghans and didn't even have the decency to fess up to it. The whole article can be read here.
Friday, May 23, 2003
Hello all. It's hot here and the days are long with the structuring element of school gone. I'm struggling to stay focused on re-editing my film but instead I'll retreat to the air conditioned comfort of my favorite coffee shop and read the latest issue of The Believer -- a sort of New York Review of Books for the OK Soda crowd.
Actually when I was buying said magazine at Santa Barbara this past weekend, I was in a very weird mood. Perhaps it was the free chai they were doling out, or maybe I had spend too long breathing mall air, or maybe it was residual bad vibes from my mentor's critical sucker-punch at graduation (see below), but I approached the counter in a strange trance-like state...
Me:These are the item in which want to consume.
Clerk: (after ringing them up): That will be $23.
M: This is the card in which I want to paid for the items I wish to consume.
C: Would you like a bag?
M: Yes, I would like a bag to carry the items I have consumed.
As I was walking away from the counter, in a post-consumption haze, a middle-aged woman dressed from head to toe in pink cut in front of me and proceeded to dawdle in a way that made it impossible to pass her . Before I could even think about what I was doing, I hissed at her like a threatened alley cat. As the startled woman stepped aside muttering "Sorry," I zipped past her, realizing what I had done. Vaguely embarrassed, vaguely proud I quickly exited the store and told Ted who was waiting outside.
Actually when I was buying said magazine at Santa Barbara this past weekend, I was in a very weird mood. Perhaps it was the free chai they were doling out, or maybe I had spend too long breathing mall air, or maybe it was residual bad vibes from my mentor's critical sucker-punch at graduation (see below), but I approached the counter in a strange trance-like state...
Me:These are the item in which want to consume.
Clerk: (after ringing them up): That will be $23.
M: This is the card in which I want to paid for the items I wish to consume.
C: Would you like a bag?
M: Yes, I would like a bag to carry the items I have consumed.
As I was walking away from the counter, in a post-consumption haze, a middle-aged woman dressed from head to toe in pink cut in front of me and proceeded to dawdle in a way that made it impossible to pass her . Before I could even think about what I was doing, I hissed at her like a threatened alley cat. As the startled woman stepped aside muttering "Sorry," I zipped past her, realizing what I had done. Vaguely embarrassed, vaguely proud I quickly exited the store and told Ted who was waiting outside.
Thursday, May 22, 2003
One way I'm keeping post-graduation ennui/angst away is seeing a mess of flicks. Two films I saw on concurrent days were box office blockbuster Matrix Reloaded and art film blockbuster Cremaster 3. Both films are epic spectacles with huge budgets, fantastic sets, and striking imagery. They also feature plot lines that are largely opaque and that require one to have seen the previous installments to get what was going on. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I found I was getting the two movies confused. So I made this easy-to-use table to help those in similar situations
| MATRIX | CREMASTER 3 |
|---|---|
| Features a protagonist called "The One" | Features a protagonist called "The Apprentice" |
| Features a bad guy who is an architect | Features a bad guy who is an architect |
| Features a key scene that takes place in an art deco restaurant high up in a skyscraper | Features a key scene that takes place in an art deco restaurant high up in a skyscraper |
| Features a bunch of goons in suits harkening back to the 1950s | Features a bunch of goons in suits harkening back to the 1940s |
| Features an a couple bad guys in white who can go through walls | Features Richard Serra (who plays a bad guy) dressed in black who throws molten vaseline at a wall |
| Features an epic car chase scene | Features an epic demolition derby in the lobby of the Chrysler Building |
| Protagonist wear a cool black clothes | Protagonist wears a cool pink kilt |
| Features an extended rave scene | Features an extended mosh pit scene |
| Features 100 Hugo Weaving clones in shades | Features 100 Dancing girls in sheep outfits |
| Protagonist has a portal hole in the back of his head | Protagonist has ambiguous gentialia which looks remarkably like the portal hole in the back of Neo's head |
| Protagonist can fly | Protagonist can shit teeth out of his distended asshole |
| About a half hour too long | About a half hour too long |
Hello all. My friend and associate Ted Mills, who was at my graduation at Cal Arts and who video taped the whole thing was kind enough to post the famed cowboy vs. spiderman battle on his blog, which you can see here.
Monday, May 19, 2003
Well, I've graduated. I'm done except for my thesis film which remains an albatross slung around my neck. I'll think of more overwrought metaphors later...
Anyway, Ted came down and videotaped much of the ceremony, which was held in a large courtyard. There were African dancers, massive puppets, some weirdo painted in red, and a least one guy strutting around in speedos and a Mexican wrestling mask. We were told to wait in a nearby hallway where we made teary-eyed promises to keep in touch and we drank cheap beer. This was taken as me and my cohorts were being lead to our seats.
The speakers spoke. I and most of my friends paid more attention to each other and to the hipflasks of cheap whiskey being passed back and forth. It was a very relaxed affair. I got up, walked around a bit. Talked to some of my non-graduating Calartians. Talked to my mentor who informed me that she suddenly thought that my thesis should be cut by half. If I hadn't indulged in some of that cheap whiskey, I would have been furious. Not only does that suggestion indicate that she didn't understand the intent of the piece (and as such has been less than truthful with me for a better part of a year) but her timing shows a real lack of tact. But fortunately, I was three-sheets to the wind at the time.
Later on stage, a fight broke out between Spiderman and a cowboy with another Mexican wrestling mask. As seen here...
Spiderman quickly vanished his opponent and the head of the department shoved them both off stage. By the time I got on stage, sporting my friend Jeff's secret service shades. The Dean made it clear that there was no time for me dedicate my degree to Dick Cheney and the corporate thugs at Halliburton.
I was given a daisy and a class photo in a binder that looks like it should have a degree. (I'm assuming my degree will be mailed to me.) As I got off stage, someone sprayed that disgusting chemical party string stuff at my forehead.
Anyway, Ted came down and videotaped much of the ceremony, which was held in a large courtyard. There were African dancers, massive puppets, some weirdo painted in red, and a least one guy strutting around in speedos and a Mexican wrestling mask. We were told to wait in a nearby hallway where we made teary-eyed promises to keep in touch and we drank cheap beer. This was taken as me and my cohorts were being lead to our seats.
The speakers spoke. I and most of my friends paid more attention to each other and to the hipflasks of cheap whiskey being passed back and forth. It was a very relaxed affair. I got up, walked around a bit. Talked to some of my non-graduating Calartians. Talked to my mentor who informed me that she suddenly thought that my thesis should be cut by half. If I hadn't indulged in some of that cheap whiskey, I would have been furious. Not only does that suggestion indicate that she didn't understand the intent of the piece (and as such has been less than truthful with me for a better part of a year) but her timing shows a real lack of tact. But fortunately, I was three-sheets to the wind at the time.
Later on stage, a fight broke out between Spiderman and a cowboy with another Mexican wrestling mask. As seen here...
Spiderman quickly vanished his opponent and the head of the department shoved them both off stage. By the time I got on stage, sporting my friend Jeff's secret service shades. The Dean made it clear that there was no time for me dedicate my degree to Dick Cheney and the corporate thugs at Halliburton.
I was given a daisy and a class photo in a binder that looks like it should have a degree. (I'm assuming my degree will be mailed to me.) As I got off stage, someone sprayed that disgusting chemical party string stuff at my forehead.
