The movie deal (now with picture!)

Contract

So a friend of mine took a degree in film, and has made some short films. The oth­er day he said, “Hey, I’d love to do a short film based on Res­ur­rec­tion Radio. How much would you want for film rights?”

I said, “Let me think on it.”

Today I gave him a fig­ure, and he agreed.

And yes, he’s got a deal with Stephen King, and yes, I’m mak­ing more than King — by a con­sid­er­able mar­gin — but no, it’s not going to pay off the mortgage.

(Hint: The deal he’s got with King is on a dol­lar baby story.)

The last few days

On Thurs­day we went to the Corb Lund con­cert at the West­man, and it was fan­tas­tic. The open­ing acts were quirky and alt-coun­try, so they meshed well with Lund and his band. The head­lin­ers played a lot of my favourites, which made me hap­py. All in all, there was near enough not to mat­ter to three hours of live music. We sat 7th-row, stage right, which were fine seats.

Fri­day we got invit­ed out to a “black tie” mar­ti­ni par­ty at Lady of the Lake. I got gussied up in a suit, K put on her new Lit­tle Black Dress, and we ven­tured forth with X and X (no, I’m not kid­ding, I know two peo­ple whose ini­tials are X, and they were both in the back seat of my car on Fri­day night). Live music by Poor Boy Roger, a local blues/swing band, danc­ing, mar­ti­nis of all descrip­tions (includ­ing one with a choco­late-cov­ered espres­so bean at the bot­tom like a prize), and deli­cious appe­tiz­ers. It was a hoot.

Sat­ur­day we ran into The City so I could take part in the U of M’s week­end judo class. An hour of warmup left me sweat­ing pro­fuse­ly — I thought I was going to die dur­ing the hand­ball game — and then I was shown the first two sets of ju-no-kata, along with some help find­ing the kata’s nar­ra­tive, which helps. I also had one of the sen­seis drop a pearl of wis­dom in my ear that I’ve been turn­ing over in my mind ever since: “All throws in judo come from sumi-oto­shi or uki-otoshi.”

Sun­day: off to MacG for fam­i­ly fun times with T, A, and their new boy B. Hav­ing a cold, I felt it was unwise to hold the baby, so K end­ed up with my turn. Not that she com­plained one whit.

Tonight: Watched a cow-ork­er’s copy of The Fall, which was a fan­tas­tic movie, in all sens­es of the word. It was visu­al­ly stun­ning, well-shot, it cap­ti­vat­ed my atten­tion, and it pro­vid­ed an inter­est­ing look at the process of cre­at­ing a sto­ry. It was also a mov­ing dra­ma, and brim­ful of fine actors in fine roles.

And then, tonight as well, I sub­mit­ted two more sto­ries to mag­a­zines: “After the Mis­sile Rain”, a <1k “flash” piece, to Flash Fic­tion Online, and “Nei­ther Bang nor Whim­per”, 2700 words that I wrote in under 24 hours for a con­test, to Fan­ta­sy Mag­a­zine. Wish me luck!

And with that: good night.

Really now? The Gyrocaptain?

Tonight, flip­ping through my chan­nels, I came across this listing:

Beg pardon?

Cast your mind to The Road War­rior. Who comes imme­di­ate­ly to mind?

I know, I know. It’s these two guys, right?

It must be, because they’re the ones list­ed first. Last billing goes to this unknown actor, Melvin Something-or-other…

What ever became of him, anyways?

Indy

I went and saw the new Indy Jones pic­ture-show* tonight, and…

…well…

…it was­n’t the film I was hop­ing for, but I sup­pose it was the film I was expect­ing.

Too many know­ing nods to the audi­ence; too many hat-relat­ed gags, like they’re try­ing to work an entire tril­o­gy’s worth into one script; too much of Shia Leboeuf**—who may be a fine actor in his own right, I have no idea, but he’s not up to par with Har­ri­son “Hen­ry Jones Jr.” Ford; and an over-the-top cli­max that made me feel like they were try­ing to out-every­thing everything.

It almost felt like they made the movie, watched it, and said, “Needs more… some­thing.” So they crammed it right full of in-jokes, winks, and armies of CG mon­keys, ants, and gophers, when what it need­ed was more, let’s see, coherence.

Indi­ana Jones and the King­dom of the Crys­tal Skull: It’s like Raiders of the Lost Ark, with more cowbell.

____

* You know. The talky.
** I’m sure I spelled that wrong, but I’m not inclined to look it up.

Nage-no-kata

…or “What I had to do for a sil­ver medal”.

I’m the one being thrown.

Enjoy!

The throws are, in order:

Uki-oto­shi (“float­ing drop”)
Seoi-nage (“shoul­der throw”)
Kata-guru­ma (“shoul­der wheel”)*

Uki-goshi (“float­ing hip throw”)
Harai-goshi (“sweep­ing hip throw”)
Tsuriko­mi-goshi (“lift­ing-pulling hip throw”)

Okuri-ashi-harai (“side­ways foot sweep”)
Sasae-tsuriko­mi-ashi (“block­ing lift­ing-pulling foot throw”)
Uchi-mata (“inner thigh throw”)

Each one is per­formed right-hand­ed and left-handed.

__________

* Which impress­es every­one, but real­ly isn’t that bad of a land­ing, if you know what you’re doing.

Trifle

My first stop-motion video:

Mmmm, tri­fle…

Update!

Because Doug demand­ed it, here’s the recipe.

You’ll want to do this in a tri­fle bowl, a tall, wide, cylin­dri­cal bowl, usu­al­ly on a stand. I found mine at Wal-Mart for about $8.

Bot­tom lay­er: Take an angel food cake and tear it into bits. Put it into the tri­fle bowl. Cov­er with about one or two cans’ worth of man­darin seg­ments. Mix up some red Jell‑O (I use straw­ber­ry) and pour slow­ly over all. You don’t want every­thing to float to the top, which is what I find hap­pens if you pour too quick­ly. Put in the fridge till the Jell‑O sets.

Mid­dle lay­er: Mix up some Bird’s cus­tard accord­ing to the pack­age direc­tions for cus­tard dessert (not cus­tard sauce). Let it cool to about room temp (you’ll want to put plas­tic wrap on it so it does­n’t form a skin). Pour onto the Jell‑O lay­er. Refrig­er­ate till the cus­tard is cool.

Top lay­er: Whipped cream. Gar­nish with fruit (I used left-over man­darin seg­ments; my grand­ma always uses Maraschi­no cher­ries; sliced straw­ber­ries would prob­a­bly be good too).

Enjoy!

Lego Star Wars kept me up late

For my birth­day, my dar­ling wife bought me Lego Star Wars (the orig­i­nal series one) for our PC. She also bought a sec­ond joy­stick so we can play the game together.

Mmmm... Star Wars... Lego...

I tried it out last night. I sat down to play for 20 min­utes while I wait­ed for a TV show to start.

Two hours lat­er I kind of came up for air.

All I can say is: Awesome!

Birthday Boy


Birth­day Boy
Dis­cov­ered in Patrick Johan­neson’s Flickr photostream. 

Just me, wear­ing my new T‑shirt.

My bro-in-law exposed his sons to the Orig­i­nal Tril­o­gy, and ever since then they’ve been deeply into the Star Wars phenomenon.

I actu­al­ly was at their place when they watched Star Wars (you know, A New Hope). I was away the next day, when they watched The Empire Strikes Back. At sup­per that night, the old­est boy (he’s six) was agi­tat­ing to watch Return of the Jedi, so that he could see how it all played out. But it was late, so my sis­ter made him wait till the next day. He was grump­ing about it a lit­tle bit, so I told him, “I had to wait three years to find out what happened.”

Why?” he said.

Because that’s how long it took for the next movie to come out.”

He looked at me with a lit­tle smile, and said, “Boy, I’m glad I was born in 2000.”

Yeah.

I’m there right now”

Warn­ing: Freaky spooky con­tent ahead. Don’t click unless you like the hee­bie-jee­bies (or the jib­blies, if you’re a Strong Bad fan).

Today, on YouTube, I dis­cov­ered two of the eeri­est moments com­mit­ted to cel­lu­loid, and they’re both from David Lynch films.

Chrono­log­i­cal­ly first, here’s a snip from Lost High­way:

I have the sound­track to this film. The song that brack­ets the clip is titled “Some­thing Wicked This Way Comes”, IIRC.

Aaaaaaaaaaand after that bit of spook­i­ness, this one should seem down­right nor­mal. From Mul­hol­land Dr.:

The singer is named Rebekah Del Rio, and there’s quite the sto­ry behind that song and its appear­ance in Mul­hol­land Dr.

These two clips have some­thing in com­mon: When I saw the respec­tive films that they come from, each one was the one piece that stuck with me the most. Both had that spooky qual­i­ty that just embed­ded them in my mind.