fine whine

I wanted to like it, though I cannot say why really, but Holes didn't do a damn thing for me. It didn't make me laugh or cry and it sure as hell didn't distract me from my pounding headache.

As I mentioned yesterday, the flat tire fairy had visited us again over the weekend and true to form I had not noticed it until Sunday, the day nobody sells tires. Well that is not true as I could have limped up to a Sam's or Wal-Mart, or maybe even an NTB for their week-wide service, but none were close and moreover I wanted to once again have four matched tires at the same time. More than being just some simple ambition for me, having a full set was something that I didn't always have on my cars. My Tempo1 had once suffered a mishap involving a superslick sheet of ice and a concrete parking lot barrier, such that the measured wheelbase was different for each side of the car. Needless to say this caused problems, namely that one tire wore significantly faster than the others. So eventually we figured out to save money we could buy used tires and get the same wear for less moola—more bang for our buck, as it were, ha ha ha. I generally only use "bang" in the same sentences as "tires" when talking about my bike, you see, as it too has had flat issues this year.

I thought my mismatched days were over when I bought the Galant, but alas, within a month of moving to Columbus I had another flat, manifesting itself again on a Sunday. In total I have had three flat tires on this car in this city, all in the same parking spot even, I think. This most recent one was the resilient black sheep of my previous batch of tires (presumably the ones starting at mile zero and ending at the forty-odd thousand for me) that had in fact once been flat and plugged, successfully. I had gone to replace two of them that were balder and gotten a third out of the deal because of a slipped machine gnawing the last non-bald and un-plugged tire to useless bits. For many months I drove with three new tires and one old, but it finally gave up the goat and now all four match.

The problem in getting it today, though, was twofold. First, the place that I usually went apparently had closed and the nearest franchise was out of the right size. So I had to drive back home and kill a couple hours before the shop was restocked. Not feeling so hot I laid down (after briefly considering some cleaning) and watched The big picture with Kevin Bacon, J.T. Walsh, Jennifer Jason Leigh, and a bunch of jokes that fell flat, and more. It was supposed to be a biting satiric farce about moviemaking and the culture of Hollywood cinema, but either the ensuing years (it was made in 1988) dulled the humor (likely) or the jokes never were so great (also likely). I was left with both the sense that I hadn't "gotten" everything but could recognize when something was to be gotten, and also that it was a pale shadow of Altman's The player, of which I am not really fond either. I think the moviemakers making movies about moviemaking aren't coming up with anything new, at least not that would be accessible to a broad audience. I think for themselves especially, and for some of us, they need to add another layer of distance, to make movies about making movies about making movies. Thus the final film would follow around a filmmaker making a film about making films. This sounds absurd but I am serious: this is an untapped niche for cinematic genius. If Hollywood ever realizes that sequels, remakes and adaptations aren't enough, here's something for them to try, and I'm sure they will. Mark my words.

Speaking of words, I polished off Margie Atwood's Oryx and Crake today. Up until the end it was pretty decent, even for a nonlinear book. Generally I'm not a fan, but the way she weaved past and present (near future and not so near future?) worked quite well. My only complaint (which isn't a new complaint for me) is that of its ending, or lack thereof. The whole last chapter thing sets up a new event and basically stops with something interesting about to happen. It frustrates me to have happily gotten so far only to be let down by an unnecessary tacked-on ending, almost as though the author's setting up for a sequel, but the opening in the end isn't big enough for a short story with many of its possibilities. I doubt there's an Oryx and Crake II in the works, which is slightly unfortunate because the world in the book begs to be explored more fully.

Yesterday I finished Houellebecq's Platform and was rather impressed with it. Despite many explicit sex scenes (it seems the narrator was obsessed with sexual gratification) the book was rather well put together and kept my interest. It too did not have an ending to my satisfaction but it was, alas, appropriate for the book's tone and theme, I think. The best parts were moments of great perception and sharp wit among dry commentary about diverse topics of group sociology (as if there were any other) and a dissection of the typical American best seller, in this case specifically Grisham's The firm. Platform's definitely an adult book and I would be hesitant to recommend it unsolicited, but if anybody asked me if it were worth reading I would likely give it a nod to all but the most obviously squeamish. And I'll be reading his other books, eventually.

Also in book news, Paul Davidson, author of Consumer Joe, dropped by my site and left a comment on my entry mentioning it. Which is pretty cool; I can only wonder how he came across my site. I'll give the book a read and probably drop him an email afterward. Amazing thing, this internet.

1(1990-2001) Rev2 in peace, old friend.
2In the end revving was all that it could do, unless Reverend Jim3 has since fixed it up. The transmission's shot.
3The guy's name really was Jim and he was Reverend at the South Side Ministry, which generously gave my dad a tax write off for the car, as well as hauling it off.

Well, I just finished watching Formula 51, with Sam Jackson, Robert Carlyle, Rhys Ifans, Meat Loaf and scads more recognizable people. I enjoyed it greatly. From beginning to end it was an enjoyable ride. At times it was absurd, very often hilarious, at others brilliant and only occasionally slightly disappointing — I'm no fan of the textish sort of ending that marred Unbreakable — but it was always stylish and all the while I really liked it. I'm reminded in part of my thoughts regarding The Transporter: here was another stylish film that wasn't quite as intelligent as its swaggering would imply, but still it made mainstream fare look like Steamboat Willie in comparison. See also The Salton sea. When my wife wants to watch a movie she means one that doesn't require thinking or full attention, such as anything Reese Whitherspoon's done lately. When I want to watch a movie I want it to be smart but fun. Like Formula 51.

What is it that makes these films so enjoyable? Stylistic near-excess? Explosions and car chases? Really I think it boils down to how much fun those involved admit to having had. EPKs and supplemental materials have the actors and crew flat out boasting to loving the whole process and its resultant celluloid wonder. I'm sure counter-examples exist, but I doubt they'd be able to dig up some archival footage of Bob Hope crowing about how fantastic the making of Ishtar turned out to be.

Of course you realize the whole point of this entry was to use "dig up" and "Bob hope" in the same sentence, har har har.

I'm happy to have found some good entertainment lately. I watched The transporter with Jason Stratham and it was quite good (for what it was). I only had one criticism — a car exploded too, er, explosively. Otherwise it was well paced, not too kung-fu heavy and didn't get bogged down in irrelevant plot diversions. It's not a thinker's classic but I enjoyed it very much. So that's that. My recent discovery of the Diablo series of games also means I'm getting less sleep.

That said, I've still been reading several good books lately. A good number of them deal with commercialism, advertising or capitalism gone awry: Max Barry's Syrup and Jennifer Government, Jim Munroe's (of AdBusters fame) Everyone in silico, and now Alex Shakur's The savage girl. I liked them all and would recommend any or all of them to anybody with a shred of intelligence and an accompaning sense of humor.

So anyway, in The savage girl Alex Shakur introduces the concept of "paradessence": the paradoxical essence of a thing. Identifying the paradessence of a commodity is the key to its branding and selling. For example, the paradessence of Wi-Fi (does anybody seriously use that term? really?) is that it grants the freedom to move around at will while still being tethered to a computer. That's somewhat of a weak example, but it's Alex's term, not mine, and he explains it better on this page of the book's abandoned site.

And as I said before, I've been watching movies. Some haven't been quite as good as the books I'm reading, and one in particular made me think for a moment. As soon as I saw the title screen for Star trek: the motion picture I was struck by its innate paradessence. Here is a movie about the distant, technologically advanced future, and they refer to it as a "motion picture", a quaint term that was pretty dated, even in 1972. Does it fit? I'm not sure. Paradessence or not, it's definitely an odd mix. And it's a pretty dull movie, too.

Well, I just finished watching Die another day. As for Bond movies, it wasn't too bad. I think I'd rather see the movie of Nightfire on the PS2—but not that badly. Anyway, it seems that there is a checklist for making such movies. Line items I'm sure are included are:

• International intrigue
• Innuendo laden banter
• Impossible technology
• Improbable explosions
• Innumerable expendable henchmen
• "Inescapable" predicaments
• Illogical science

...And so on. I could probably alliterate another couple entries but what would be the point? It's just a Bond movie, and in such situation all the above are expected, if not necessary. I'm willing and able to overlook all of them—to a point. Let's take the example of that last one: illogical science. Visible lasers and DNA resequencing I can accept, as their "existence" makes the story much more interesting. However, late in the film they crossed a line that was just too far afield of reality.

Just after James dispatched the villain (oops, I hope I didn't give that plot twist away) a pair of exotic supercars are dropped from very high altitude. They aren't forgotten, as they are later revealed to be stuck nose-first in the muck below. It's a good laugh, but bad physics. Think about it: nevermind the fact that they started falling rear-first, but the engines are in the rear of the car (or near the back, mid-engined some might say). Now unless these boots of these cars were filled with lead and mercury, they'd likely fall on their ends, not front-first.

And why does it matter? In a movie rife with in-jokes and homages it's just another throwaway joke, albeit an elaborately-plotted one, and it garners the laughs it should. Why does it bother me that they didn't stick the correct end of the cars into the ground? Did somebody on the set decide that it wouldn't be as funny the other way? Could it be Freudian in some sick form? Why does it bother me so?

I was a copy editor in high school and college, and now at work I have to find problems with both computer drawings and manufactured garments. Evidently I have an eye for detail. I can't really help it, but I notice a lot of little things. Anyway, so tonight I'm watching Die hard 2 and just around the 1:20:10 mark somebody turns on broadcast channel 3 in the skies over Washington D.C. and the screen shows a classic episode of the Simpsons, the one with the whole family hooked up to electroshock chairs and ultimately zapping each other. Now I'm no TV trivia buff, but to my knowledge the Big Three had monopolized all the low numbers, at least in the TV markets I'd lived. Of course a simple web search turned up WTTW, Fox channel 5 for Washington D.C.

So much for the low numbers theory. However, I still have to wonder if WTTW's been around since 1990 on channel 5, or if the Fox affiliate was in fact channel three thirteen years ago, a channel unassigned now. Do I care? No. But I have to admit that I looked this much up.