Doorways

Opening the door and walking through. It's a constant problem every time a doorway appears, there are only two people, and one person has to walk through before the other. What's at stake? If you politely hold the door open and wait for your companion are you the victor? Or is victory achieved by walking through and modestly thanking your acquaintance for their supple act of door holding? Who knows! Who knows who wins in these situations, perhaps no one wins, maybe everyone loses every time a doorway appears and people must walk through, the only solution being for one person to open the door and walk through while the other waits for it to close again before opening it and walking through on their own. Maybe the glass should simply be smashed and both parties should enter at the same time, cutting themselves in the process, their spilling blood a sign of their mutual trust and recognition. If there is no glass, an axe, an axe is required to break down that door, each participant taking turns chopping, the one with the final chop winning, the victorious leader, the hands down champion, the irrefutable receptacle of applause and cheer, delicately minding his or her splinters with authoritative and supreme confidence.

Before moving on.

Either way, it was funny watching my roommate and her nemesis refuse to walk through a doorway first last Friday, each graciously offering the other the option of being the first to pass through. Rather than walking through the doorway in order to gain access to the balcony, both preferred to remain indoors, with the doorway open, continuing their conversation while I froze outside and cold air continuously entered our flat. For me, this was a precious moment in the history of door opening and I thought that it should be blogged so that others could learn from its dexterity. For indeed there were two victors that evening when in every other doorway opening situation everyone loses always maybe.

Brought a tear to my eye.

Suppose servers are becoming military targets. That sucks.

A lot of theory's about making intelligent mistakes.

This fact of the day jibber-jabber is pretty neat.

Disclaimer

While I neither endorse nor support some of the reference sources I occasionally present, I still consider them to be valuable pieces of information.

I'm looking forward to hearing about the first genius internet prankster who writes 6 e-books and at least 78 associated articles which the e-books cite (using pseudonyms generally), proving a ridiculous thesis succinctly and comprehensively (perhaps this would make more sense if it was a group of pranksters creating e-books and journals asynchronously). All of the material will appear legitimate and only the most resolute internet detectives will be able to unfortunately unravel the ruse. The material should all be published at once while somehow managing to look as if it has existed for 6 or 7 years.

This has probably happened already.

Have discovered that I only crave bran flakes three times over the course of a 24 hour period once every 5 weeks.

Resources

The CIA World Factbook and United Nations CyberSchoolBus provide some interesting information regarding the countries of the world.

Definitely surprised by this year's Super Bowl contestants. I spent so much time trying to think of a cool historical factor that would necessarily determine this year's outcome (like San Diego letting go of Drew Brees and then having to face New Orleans in the Super Bowl) that I lost sight of the obvious. And this year's Super Bowl will see the top two teams playing for Super Bowl victory on February 7th, so completely obvious it was totally unexpected. I hope New Orleans wins but think that Indianapolis is the stronger team.

Picks

My picks for the NFL Conference Finals and Super Bowl are as follows:

Indianapolis defeats the Jets and looks to be the Super Bowl favourite. Minnesota upsets New Orleans and Brett Favre gets one more shot at the title.

I think Minnesota will win the Super Bowl because the last time Brett Favre was in the Super Bowl he lost to the Denver Broncos, Super Bowl 32, a 31-24 Broncos victory, the mighty John Elway picking up the first of two Super Bowl wins. Thus, since the Minnesota Vikings have never won the Super Bowl and have lost the big game 4 times, as had the Broncos when they defeated Favre and the Green Bay Packers so many years ago, it makes sense that Favre somewhat avenges that loss by winning the Super Bowl with an 0 and 4 Super Bowl team, Favre replacing Elway in this contest, Manning functioning as Favre.

Go Vikings!

It's not every day that you see a raven trying to eat a dead rabbit.

I'd like to read a story where the main character is afraid of fear and suffers an adventurous breakdown as a result of his maniacal confidence.

Cell phones are great if you lose your watch, don't have a camera, and accidentally melt your alarm clock with your night light.

Apparently, using Copperplate Gothic Light font can lead to playful accusations of yelling.

You can ask a group of students who don't like philosophy to answer a philosophical question so that they consequently learn to write practical politics.

I'm hoping to lose a tenth of a pound each day for 200 days, thereby never having to go to the gym.

Writing Experiment

Take a book written in a language with which you're only marginally familiar. Try and read it to the best of your abilities and keep a list of all the words you had to look up while reading. Make sure that the list keeps track of which words you had to look up on each specific page. When finished, provide the list to someone interested in writing a book. Then, if you looked up 25 words on page 1, make sure that the interested person uses those 25 words on their first page (and so on). When the new writer is finished, compare the books. (You may have to read the first book in translation to make a stronger comparison).

Here's a solid list of reference sources concerning Canadian Film.

The problem with his jokes was that they were funny.

Things Bears Love.

Last Saturday, I stopped in at a bar in Banff to watch football and eat an elk burger because I had three hours to kill before catching a bus. While viewing and devouring, someone named Gary started talking about his brutal day. He had just moved into a new place but the owners didn't tell him they had sold the place and he would soon have a new landlord. This new landlord decided to dishonour all of the leases/agreements/ his tenants had signed/made/ and tried to throw everyone out. When he arrived at Gary's, Gary promptly told him to head to fuck-off-me land and asserted his rights as a tenant. Many of his neighbours were packing their things and leaving so he went around telling them not to leave. This caused several of them to turn back, but, unfortunately, this also raised the ire of his new landlord, who proceeded to enter his cabin, grab a huge stack of clothes, and start a fire, which Gary caught upon his return home. Yikes.

Daybreakers

Vampire films. I'm a sucker for vampire films, especially when they receive a glowing review in The Globe and Mail. The Spierig Brother's Undead was a solid horror flick so I was pleasantly surprised to see that they crafted Daybreakers as well, this time with a significantly larger budget. Within, vampires have taken over the earth and humans have become farm animals, brutally supplying their eternal masters with a bountiful supply of blood. But humans have become scarce, and, without their abundant blood supply, vampires are turning into bat-like creatures known as sub-siders, more animal than humanoid. Modest vampire Edward Dalton (Ethan Hawke) (who refuses to drink human blood) searches for a blood alternative but his experiments come up short as time begins to run out. Enter Lionel 'Elvis' Cormac (Willem Dafoe) and partner Audrey Bennett (Claudia Karvan), two tough-as-nails humans looking for a way to mass market the cure for vampirism they've discovered, much to Dalton's surprise. The three form a tenacious triumvirate of dedicated researchers avidly searching for an experimental miracle. Fighting them are the forces of Bromley Corporation, lead by Charles Bromley (Sam Neill), who prefers the taste of human blood and isn't that interested in finding a cure. In the end, there's a sensational showdown quirkily equipped with a blistering bloodbath, dramatically delineating the high interest stakes.

While generally entertaining, Daybreakers is seriously predictable. Didn't have to use much brain power to figure out what was going to happen next. I also didn't take to the plot twist involving Bromley's daughter Alison (Isabel Lucas) and thought it could have been replaced with something more subtle. Ethically, the Spierig brothers seem to be saying that if everyone wants to be part of the elite, eventually their blood supply, the working person, will run out, and the only cure for their unholy elitism will be to become human once more. However, that transformation needs to be slowly nurtured (as the scene where the soldier vampires devour one another indicates) for otherwise revolutionary chaos will ensue ala The Soviet Union. Of course the only people capable of leading this quiet revolution have no means of marketing their humanitarian solution, but at least they're aware of the problem and are trying to do something about it.

The Fantastic Mr. Fox

Kid movies made for grownups that can be appreciated by both kids and grownups: does it get any better? Wes Anderson's The Fantastic Mr. Fox was recommended to me by my niece and I had nothing to see yesterday evening so I figured I'd check it out. And much to my content surprise did I discover that not only is it the new Wes Anderson film, but it's also my favourite Wes Anderson film since Bottle Rocket. All the trademark Wes Anderson motifs are present: a family experiencing difficulty as they learn and grow together; a cunning, sly, and exceptional traditional patriarch frustrated by the routine trappings of domestic life; a dynamic cast of colourful characters each with their own endearing idiosyncrasies; and a complementary fantasy landscape full of robust depth and life, detail after detail, potentially as envisioned by novelist Roald Dahl. Mr. Fox (George Clooney) suffers a mid-life crisis and decides to once again engage in the act of thievery to overcome his troubled financial situation and regain a taste of the good life. In order to do this he must rob three affluent farmers, Boggis (Robin Hurlstone), Bunce (Hugo Guiness), and Bean (Michael Gambon), while hiding his clandestine nightly activities from the disapproving Mrs. Fox (Meryl Streep). Bean proves to be a formidable adversary and sets out to hunt down the courageous Mr. Fox once and for all. And the only way Mr. Fox's forest community can survive in the aftermath is to objectively support his rash, subjective behaviour.

On the one hand, the film is saying "don't fuck around," for if you do, you're fucked, because the powers that be are going to squash your little rebellion and uproot your traditional order of things. But on the other, it states "give 'em hell," for that's what they do, and the resultant transformed world is accepted enthusiastically (eventually) by its inhabitants. Then again, said inhabitants only enthusiastically accept their newly transformed world because they had no other choice. But they accept it so well and are so happy within that it's tough to criticize Mr. Fox to severely.

Philosophy Degree at Work

Lockdowns are taken seriously. Suddenly there's a lockdown and it's real, but it's not real, because I know it's not real. As an authority figure, I'm supposed to know where to go and what to do and treat the lockdown as if it's a real lockdown. But it's not real and I know it's not real so how can I treat it like it's real? I've got to learn to treat things that aren't real like they are, otherwise I'm dead! Today there was a knock on the door during our lockdown. Figuring this was a secret form of communication amonst staff, a code likely containing additional information regarding the dynamics of the lockdown, information that I wasn't provided with before hand, I opened the door. I also figured this would be okay since the knocker was likely a member of the authoritative group to which I belong and must therefore be privy to a superreal dimension attached to the reality of the lockdown, transcendent, existing because the exercise is fake, wherein the authorities act like divinities and talk logistics amongst themselves while their underlings respect the non-reallty of the situation. I answered the door, there was no superreal dimension, and we all died in non-reality. What this means is that while failing to find the right solution in non-reality, I will definitely find the right solution during a real lockdown (which will likely never happen). So I'll just consistently die, over and over again, in non-reality, spending less time reading Simulation and Simulacra.

There was a piece of orange garbage bag stuck to the bottom of the ladder on top of the truck whose business it is to set up Christmas lights and clean eavestroughs. Good combination. It looked like a dog but I've heard that a giant cat lives in the area and perhaps that was it. Wonder if everyone will mention the surprise cyclist and his dog. Counted 5 cars crossing the bridge in a row: quite the line for this time of night. The river remains unfrozen and it is likely that the pine beetle has survived. Three weeks of -30: don't know if I can hack that. That kind of cold turns the world into a prison, there is nowhere but nowhere to walk. Tonight the weather's fantastic, warm, warm, warm, reminding me of Spring, although it's way to early for such considerations. Christmas lights and brilliant nights: the mountains look pretty cool against the dark winter sky. Could probably eat two bags of cheezies.

I remember when I used to able to listen to compliments as if they were compliments before I was trained to analyze compliments to the point where they became uncomplimentary.

Sounds of Cold

Not used to this kind of cold. Suppose every winter's got a couple of days like this but wow, this is really really cold. At first, I thought the sound of cold was "scrunch scrunch" as our boots made their way through town, but I reckon "scrunch scrunch" can still be heard when there's snow on the ground and it's not quite so cold (so "scrunch scrunch" is out). My body's readjusting to the warm indoor temperature and I'm feeling incredibly tired. Coffee, large double double, yum. Perhaps that's the sound of cold, marsh mellow hot chocolate being slurped enthusiastically out of a mug with toboggans tobogganing nearby. The sound of wood contracting, of quiet dogs, the hum of outdoor lights. Cars struggling, breath exhaling. This is what the arctic was like a lot of the time. One thing that kept my mind off the arctic's cold was the northern lights, pretty beautiful. Up there, the sound of cold could be thought of as vehicle exhaust insofar as many car owners never shut their cars down, preferring to run them 24/7. On really cold days, a thick exhaust smoke cloud would hover throughout town, making it difficult to breath outside. Coughing, cough cough. It was nice to walk outside tonight on an unmarked trail that differs from my regular routine. Not often enough do I just start randomly walking in a new direction and it felt nice. The sky, the shade of blue on freezing nights, as if it's frozen, a second of night instantly captured, resting, waiting for the sun.

Fulla Pike

From a couple springs ago.

Finally caught a pike in Lake Echo, brought it home, and ate it. Wrote this to celebrate.

Okay, tonight I went fishing once more in my kayak for the prick ass northern pike that has eluded my trolling line for the past eight fishing hours. Damn you and your picky tastes thou cruellest pike of the waters of Gullwing and Echo.

First off, I was surprised. I hooked a fish three minutes after beginning to fish rather than the traditional hour and a half wait. But low and frickin' behold, as I reached to grab the net I had lodged between my back and backpack the damn pike snapped my line. Shitcakes. Onwards I continued, kayaking and fishing away and then five minutes later another pike bite. This time I decided to kayak to shore, get out of the kayak, and bring the fish in from there. So, I kayaked to shore, got out of the kayak, started reeling, and the damn pike snapped my line. Shitcakes, again. That's thirty-six dollars in lures lost in the last eight hours and ten minutes fishing, leaving me happy to be fishing but frustrated to be sure. I had brought one more lure with me, my Husky Jerk Rapala, which I've owned for five years and never caught a damn thing with. I fished with it for a solid hour without catching anything, travelling the extent of Echo Lake, one corner of Gullwing, and then back out towards the portage between Echo and Clear Lake. But then, minutes away from calling it a night, a pike snatched it, and, since I had loosened my drag considerably, found itself into my net after a brief struggle. Afterwards, I kayaked to shore in order to remove the hook from its startled mouth. By the time I was finished detaching the hook, there wasn't much life left in the old pikester so I dropped it into the water to see if it would swim away. Since it simply turned and started floating on its back, I figured it's filletin' time. But before filletin,' I decided to try and catch another, was thwarted in my efforts, but, fortunately enough, found my trusty orange jointed Rapala, lost earlier in the evening, the same Rapala that has been hooking me fish for nine years, floating away, minding its own business, meaning that the total amount lost to the shrewd pike of Lake Echo could be reduced to a mere 23 dollars.

Upon returning home, I received some instructions on how to fillet a pike from a quick google search and promptly bungled the process due to my substitution of a serrated knife for the required fillet knife. Nonetheless, I salvaged most of the meat, probably enough for two people if served with veg and a nice rich sauce, learned that pike sushi is dangerous, and cooked it with butter, garlic, and blueberries wrapped in foil on the barbecue. I haven't sampled it yet so I'm writing in haste, but note that I'm hoping to have found a cinematic complement to my meal, Samuel Fuller's The Big Red One. I've never seen a Fuller film but Paul Schrader places him alongside Bloody Sam in his critical filmic landscape, meaning that all things may end well this evening.

Wild Card Picks

Here are my 2009/2010 NFL Wildcard picks:

New England/Baltimore: Joey Flacco proved that he's a solid playoff quarterback last season but does he have enough to out duel Tom Brady? The Ravens and Patriots have never met in the playoffs but the Patriots did lose to the Browns 20-13 in 1994. My pick's New England because they've been playing extremely well in recent weeks and they're tough to beat (especially in the playoffs) when they're on a role. But I won't be surprised if Baltimore picks up a last minute victory.

NY. Jets/Cincinnati: the Jets whomped the Bengals last week but Cincinnati rested a lot of their A team so it's tough to think of that game as an indication of things to come. They've only met in the post-season once, a 44-17 Jet victory in 1982. But the Bengals haven't won a playoff game since 1990 and their A team held it close with San Diego recently so methinks the Bengals win, easily.

Arizona/Green Bay: there are few teams older than the Arizona Cardinals and the Green Bay Packers but still they've only met in the playoffs once, a 41-16 Packer victory in 1982. Green Bay thwamped the Cardinals recently but last season Arizona proved that they're a well-rounded playoff threat. But I can't shake the thought that the Packers will face Brett Favre and the Vikings in the weeks to come and am consequently picking Green Bay.

Philly/Dallas: who knows. Dallas stumped Philly last week in a game the Eagles needed to win, going so far as to shut them out. Were the Eagles just playing loose to rest up for the playoffs, refusing to give their opponents a taste of their unrelenting and potent fury? They also beat Philly earlier on in the season 20-16. The Cowboys lead their postseason meetings 2 to 1 and I think Tony Romo's ready for the postseason. Dallas in a close game.

All stats come courtesy of Wikipedia.

*One out of four. Crapsticks.

Sherlock Holmes

Enjoyed Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes. Within, Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.) and Watson (Jude Law) are much more human than some of their previous imaginings, Holmes eagerly pit fighting and Watson trying to avoid gambling compulsively. Don't know what pit fighting and compulsive gambling have to do with being more human, but they certainly weren't borderline ideal. They are tasked with capturing the resurrected Lord Blackwood (Mark Strong) who is attempting to 'cleanse' Britain's parliament in order to bring about a new world order. Professor Moriarty monitors the situation closely with the assistance of Holmes's former love interest, Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams). And the conventional Inspector Lestrade (Eddie Marsan) rounds out the cast, providing institutional relief, beguiled brooding, and unexpected assistance.

The plot's complex if not a bit over the top and the intellectual action is constant. Holmes comes across as a scatterbrained aloof eccentric who acutely, succinctly, and charismatically solves every presented problem. The dynamic between Holmes and Watson is playfully professional, Holmes trying hard not to hold back, Watson unafraid to physically express his discontent. Adler adds an additional layer of brainiacness whose sultry suppositions intensify the film's sensitivity. And Lord Blackwood's a creepy, maniacal, lunatic, whose particular brand of insanity is rationally and reasonably displayed. A definite treat for both its brains and brawn, Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes will likely enjoy a prominent position in the Holmesian canon.

Invictus

I may of missed the point of Clint Eastwood's Invictus, but I thought the first half was much stronger than the second. In the opening moments, newly elected South African President Nelson Mandela (Morgan Freeman) must deal with his new occupation's complicated demands, many of which have arisen from the historic racial tensions between black and white South Africans. His approach to governing is unexpected: let's try and rebuild post-Apartheid South Africa as one nation, forgetting the gross injustices inflicted upon the black population and focusing instead upon what can be done to positively change the system's current composition. Considering the black population's grievances and the fact that Mandela spent 27 years in a prison cell as a result of his activism, this Ghandiesque position is commendable insofar as it prefers bonding to bloodshed. While dealing with the strains of office, Mandela takes a shining to the Springboks Rugby Team, captained by Francois Pienaar (Matt Damon), due to the fact that South Africa is about to host the Rugby World Championship. Mandela's support for the Springboks is controversial insofar as they have been seen as a symbol of Apartheid by the black population for decades, South Africa's black residents generally cheering for the opposition. But Mandela sees the team as possessing the cultural power to unite South Africa's black and white populations, and believes that if they win the Rugby World Championship it will bring said populations closer together. This is the main point of the film and as it progresses it becomes the dominant focus, going so far as to show 15 to 20 minutes of the final championship match, which the Springboks win. I thought that Invictus would have been a lot stronger had it primarily focused upon the serious political demands of Mandela's first term in office, keeping the rugby match in the background for a longer period of time, and replacing scenes like the one where Mandela greets the entire team with others demonstrating the severity of the South African racial divide. This divide is mentioned, referred to, and recognized throughout Invictus's second half, but the manner in which it is showcased is far to warm and fuzzy for my liking, thereby minimizing the effects of South Africa's World Rugby Championship victory by overlooking the grim social realities that victory was symbolically supposed to overcome.