Most of what you learn from relationships comes from interacting with whomever you happen to be dating. As you spend more time together, such interactions become more complex as a historical layer begins to unconsciously affect things. As the years go by and several relationships pass, patterns develop, and from these patterns generalizations regarding the sex of your partners suggest themselves, while love's euphoric magnanimity obfuscates and obliterates them. From these patterns, characteristic statements and reactions are generated and as time passes they become more complex and diverse. As a consequence, if you rarely date anyone, you set yourself up for sincere misfortune while engaging in the act of dating, for your lack of understanding of these statements and their corresponding reactions will leave you consistently confused as you suffer beneath the weight of your partner's experience. Hence, it's better to date people whom you find banal and uninteresting than to wait for that special someone, even if this means that love's euphoric magnanimity will not obliterate the patterns suggested by your experience, so that when that special someone comes around you don't alienate them by being consistently frustrated by their cultural savvy.

Note: beware of falling in love with someone whom you initially find uninteresting, for when they realize that you love them they will punish you for your initial indifference, the nature of said punishment directly corresponding to the degree of their remaining love, and if they do still love you, it will likely be worse.

Furry Vengeance

Roger Kumble's Furry Vengeance is actually a lot more than an annoying comedy with poor bear representation and far to many repetitive scenes. It's also an attempt to indoctrinate children with an eco-friendly racist attitude regarding globalization (I suppose this is about as progressive as Republicans get). As the film unreels, real-estate developer Brendan Fraser (Dan Sanders) plans to turn a forest into a subdivision and cash-in both professionally and economically. But the forest's residents are aware of his ambitions and set out to annihilate them. As time passes, Fraser realizes that the animals are simply trying to protect their families in the same way that he is trying to protect his, and he consequently takes their side in the order of things. But his change of mind angers his Asian American boss who was trying to raise the related development capital from a group of East-Indian industrialists and all hell breaks loose at the annual town festival. And the reconstituted American champions the rights of his community and India and China are prevented from ruining the American landscape. Children should be spared the ways in which films like Furry Vengeance attempt to xenophobically and racistly indoctrinate them, and it's a shame trash like this received a widespread mainstream distribution.

Definitely miss smoking but I think I've quit this time for good. Every day I had smoking to look forward to, always there for me, never letting me down, yelling at me, or complaining that I'm tired and don't want to do that. It's as if the people at Smoking are saying that if something's there for you and it never lets you down it will take up a significant portion of your income, make you smell really bad, and slowly kill you over the years. That's messed up.

Red

I liked Robert Schwentke's Red even though there's not much to it. I recommend it if and only if you're searching for a mildly entertaining brain numbing occasionally amusing action flick wherein several old-school big names (Helen Mirren, Bruce Willis, Morgan Freeman, John Malkovich, Richard Dreyfuss, Ernest Borgnine) give a Space Cowboys salute to their careers. I was glad to see Brian Cox included in the cast. Even though his career hasn't had as many leading roles, he's definitely demonstrated a robust dynamic multidimensional integrity over the years (as if casting personnel Deborah Aquila and Mary Tricia Wood are saying "you, Brian Cox, are the ultimate mainstream supporting actor"). The next generation is represented by Karl Urban who has demonstrated his abilities in films such as The Chronicles of Riddick, Star Trek, and Pathfinder, and he resignedly holds his own throughout. The film vilifies American atrocities committed in Central America during the 1980s and while this is good it's as if its structure is saying that it's to bad it took the American mainstream 25 years to catch up. The internal dynamics point out how hard it is to prevent such things from happening if you're solely concerned with advancing your own personal agenda, unless that agenda is designed to prevent such things from happening.

It's important to mention the details of your social dynamic to both the shy and boisterous individuals who may seem like they aren't concerned with its fluctuating composition. For if no one ever mentions anything to them, they may start trying to deduce what's happening based solely upon body language and innuendo. You can learn a lot from doing this but nothing's ever certain, and mistakes, though rare, are often made. Mentioning actual truthful details may save them some trouble, especially if this goes on for years and the grip separating hypothesis from fact slips away.

Something new has shown up on your desk. It's nice but you're busy and it's not that important to you so you don't acknowledge its presence. Eventually, someone mentions it to you in the hopes of gaining some recognition for its delivery, assuming that you haven't noticed it yet. But you have noticed it and you mention this fact to their shock and surprise. Now, in this situation, it's better to say that you didn't notice the item in question until that moment, for trying to explain that you had noticed it earlier but didn't say anything is much more complicated and your co-workers likely won't believe your explanation. Because these kinds of things really matter to them and they would have said something had they been in your position. If someone had left a nice poem about the autumn or a delicious snack on my desk I certainly would have said something.

I hate it when medication toxically mixes with your nicotine patch and causes you to throw up before morning coffee, and, this is the closest I've ever come to being a yuppie.

[Make that two days in a row where medication has toxically mixed with my nicotine patch to make me throw up before morning coffee!].

I suppose that in order to learn a new language you can be neither proud nor content.

Suppose it would be great if elected representatives actually fought for the rights of their constituents as opposed to those championed by their party. But the United Farmers Association of Alberta tried this in the early twentieth century and they found that because their members were voting with the interests of their communities in mind, they could barely pass their own budget. Meaning that democracy often doesn't work in a democracy.

La dernière fugue (The Last Escape)

A son struggles with his conception of his father as that father tries to maintain his place at the head of his household during Christmas dinner. But Parkinson's Disease and a generally ornery disposition have lead that father's family to openly revolt against his traditional authority. While taking a break, family members André (Yves Jacques) and Sam (Aliocha Schneider) consider the notion that perhaps euthanasia is the best solution, seeing how their patriarch (Jacques Godin) remains mentally lucid but physically and spiritually destitute. Their long suffering matriarch (Andrée Lachapelle) isn't adverse to the idea (especially after the father mentions that he no longer wishes to go on) and Léa Pool's La dernière fugue (The Last Escape) crisply examines the resultant subject matter. But is it the patriarchy itself that has Parkinson's and are we watching a sentimental salute to an eclipsed cultural stranglehold whose vilification of marijuana and strict gender roles doesn't productively jive with the 21st century? Pool's film doesn't directly suggest this and she delicately pays respect to different generational attitudes within, providing multiple viewpoints with terse, spur of the moment exclamations. The speed at which everything takes place is suspect as is the sudden ending, but the overt manner which Pool adopts in order to launch her investigation is pronounced and bold and refreshingly open.

So you've approached a situation with preconceived notions regarding how things will unravel, while maintaining a cautionary approach which takes into account unpredictable variables. As time is built into that situation's framework, patterns develop that have been seen before and experience suggests certain qualifications. If you are dealing with a disruptive genius, they are hoping to convince you that these patterns are absolute, in order to watch as you begin to engage them confidently. Then, when you are feeling calm and relaxed, the patterns suddenly change, since her or his test was judging your ability to adapt and contend after having been seduced by comfort.

There you have it. Your roommates are fighting and you feel like taking a side. But you can't take a side because your roommates are old friends and have a firmly established amicable relationship. If you take sides with one, the other will start scrutinizing your activity meticulously and use his or her research to defame you in the other's eyes. Since they already have a strong bond, they will then transfer the enmity engendered by their friendship's hiccup towards you and revitalize it accordingly. I wonder if marriage councillors use this technique as a strategy.

At least I know that throughout the day I always have Proust to whom to look forward. His writing guarantees me a degree of unmitigated joy each and every day and has done so for the past 3 and a half years. Like walking through the streets of Montréal after drinking a pint of Trois-Pistoles, Proust's writing encourages a creative open-mind while obscuring the day's misfortunes. Every time.

I find it hard to believe that every Conservative riding in Canada unanimously supports the long-gun registry. I'm not surprised that this hasn't been brought up in our predominantly conservative media outlets however. By never questioning this 'harmony,' it's as if several editors are trying to subliminally disseminate a myth of conservative homogeneity which hopes to unconsciously convince people that the Conservative Party is 'united' and 'pure,' and therefore 'trustworthy' and 'austere,' which is nonsense.

Masculin féminin: 15 faits précis

Answers and questions. Definitions and commitment. Meaning and possibility. Love. Jean-Luc Godard's Masculin féminin situates and interrogates his uncertain conception of Parisian ideology within a diverse realistic quotidian brand of surrealism which effectively simulates a dynamically fluctuating resolution. Practically searching for truths and realizations in accordance with predetermined principles can have a disillusioning affect when trying to place them within one's expectations of an other, based upon interpretations of historical interactions, especially when such principles are being simultaneously synthetically analyzed. But this doesn't prevent Paul (Jean-Pierre Léaud) from continuing to interact with and observe his community as partner Madeleine (Chantal Goya) becomes a pop star. Many scenes are robust, showcasing differing points of view quickly and acutely yet calmly and pensively, while eating breakfast in a café for instance, the actors eating and drinking throughout, like a well-executed preplanned orchestration of randomly improvised daily life, with just enough absurd happenings to make sure it isn't taking itself to seriously. Stop analyzing things and you may have an easier time unless analyzing things makes you happy (assuming happiness is a possibility). Cultural tropes (interviews for pop magazines . . .) are subtly satirized and recast to reelevate their "insert your adjective" recognitions. I have no idea what this film is about. And I used a lot of big words.

The Social Network

I'm on Facebook every single day. Mostly just to play Scrabble but also to see the news items etc. that friends have designated as worthy of sharing. And to see who is adhering to the art of creating compelling Facebook Profile Status Updates. It's not the easiest thing to do although its analysis depends upon which of the myriad factors one's disposition chooses to exalt as wrought iron synthetic principles at that specific time, which depends upon how that day's events have individually affected his or her historical constitution. Even if you have principles that you always apply it depends upon how those principles align themselves with and are interpreted by your personality's unique composition at that given moment. I'm just trying to say that it must be fun being a judge.

David Fincher's The Social Network examines how Facebook came to be, placing its provocative genesis within a generally non-judgmental framework. Harvard student Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) is distraught regarding a relationship that has gone sour and engages in cybershenanigans in order to reestablish his sense of self. Said shenanigans impress three other students who resultantly share their idea for a social networking site, hoping that he will join their team. However, believing he can improve on their idea and develop it on his own, with a little help from his friends, Zuckerberg breaks and predominantly partners with his best friend Eduardo (Andrew Garfield) instead. But differing philosophies concerning how the company should be managed significantly rupture their bond, and the film unreels by staggering two simultaneous lawsuits with the practical details composing their judicial trajectories.

Zuckerberg comes across as exceptionally shrewd and benefits economically and culturally if not socially from his endeavours. The film's well structured (especially the opening scene), thankfully providing unnecessary depth for some of its characters while realigning our attention every couple of minutes or so. Generalizations regarding personalities are delivered incisively (internally speaking) and the difficulties of fantastically capturing the legal realities disrupting Zuckerberg's life are handled well (the scenes are terse and kitschy yet volatile and characteristic [the form 'distilling' the undergraduate personality]). Sean Parker's (Justin Timberlake) introduction effectively breaks up the narrative, functioning as a transformative bridge much like that in David Bowie's "Changes." And although the breakdown of Zuckerberg and Saverin's friendship is a little tough to take, at least its resolution sees some ethics transferred to the world of business. After lengthy, expensive, legal proceedings.

Well, I'm about to check Facebook for the 16th time today in order to see if that ukelele jam's still on for tomorrow and whether or not I can score a Scrabble bingo. Why did T_______ post that picture? That's not going to go over well. I would start my own zoo but you can't design it from scratch and I want a zoo that only contains different types of bears. This kind of functionality isn't present people . . !

Altered States

Eddie Jessup (William Hurt) is a scientist committed to experiencing/discovering the first thought, the foundational ontological kernel. Conducting experiments with sensory deprivation and hallucinogenic drugs, he comes closer and closer to unlocking existence's primordial governing secret. But as he approaches this void, he sacrifices his wife and family, not permitting domestic comforts to conflict with his pursuit of knowledge. Then, as his genetic structure begins to deteriorate and his blackouts engender carnal repercussions, he must battle reality's constitution and embrace the overwhelming power of love; after briefly transforming into an apelike creature.

As scientific-poetry deconstructs the relationship between professional and personal responsibility, Ken Russell's Altered States melodramatically illustrates a thesis regarding what it means to be human. Its synthesis of art and science can come across as naively sentimental, multifaceted and interrogative, cheesy and distorted, or incredibly uplifting, depending. Can you maintain a substantial "I" without reciprocating a loving partner's devotion? According to Altered States's depiction of the humanistic universe's physiological construction, the answer is "no," you cannot.

It's a situation requiring a self-sacrificing attitude. The quarters are tight and you're living with the home owner. They are alright and generally pleasant and cheerful. But they notice when you've been untidy, even if these instances are rare, and usually say something. The instances are rare because you are tidy and respectful yet busy and focused, and occasionally preoccupations with business obfuscate domestic concerns, causing you to appear absent minded. As soon as they say something you adjust your routine and immediately begin to take note of how many times your accuser engages in those very same actions. But you can't say anything in regards to said actions because they will likely become upset and throw you out. This has been my experience anyways.

When you're reading and you find that you've been preoccupied with something and have consequently failed to take note of what is happening, it's not necessarily that you've been preoccupied, but likely that the dynamic reality created by the author has transported you to another dimension wherein your vibrant thoughts indirectly correspond to the ways in which the author's life force has been translated and refocused by your subconscious.

Be careful when someone gaps and asks you to do something which is incredibly easy if you know the person is hot-tempered, stubborn, and irrational, for they will likely take your corresponding advice as a personal insult if delivered in a fashion that doesn't correspond to what their psychological disposition has determined acceptable, which is a defensive mechanism that enables them to blame you for their mistake.

Cube

Vincenzo Natali's Cube presents a group of strangers who wake up within a byzantine death trap with no choice but to work together to gain their freedom. Their prison is a giant cube in which some rooms are safe and others contain malicious contraptions designed to quickly end their lives. Enigmatic clues are provided the deciphering of which will enable them to pass through unscathed. As the trapped individuals begin to solve the puzzle, it quickly becomes apparent that a particular form of human nature is their own worst enemy.

The characters are divided into two camps, one nihilistic, the other content with the order of things. Paranoid anxious dialogue delivers extreme points from both ideological stances as their confines suffocate their more polite characteristics. One character decides that they must take control and takes it upon themself to lead. Believing in a strict, necessary, veracious, immutable relationship between things and the ways in which a particular school of thought has defined them, they consider themself to be a representative of austerity and therefore the purist candidate for leadership. Trying to apply the guidelines of a master-narrative to their random circumstances rather than negotiating and aligning themself with the organized structural ambiguity leads to violence and madness, and the laissez-faire nihilists must cope with this determined beast. But passively accepting their situation and progressing patiently and calmly does not guarantee them success, for the designs of the cube cater to both reason and madness alike where only the innocent can survive. According to the ridiculous ending anyways. The logic built into this ending works with Cube's structure however, Natali positioning himself within the very same technosocial-predicament he examines, like Rousseau in a pernicious futuristic state of nature, and delivering the predictable stereotypical solution (the fact that the villain somehow returns) that so often is designated "correct" by its designer's dementia.

It's best to engage chaotic situations randomly.

Heard an interesting theory about the one-hour lunch break from my roommate the other day. He claims managers like it when employees take the one-hour lunch break because they consequently look as if they're not in a rush to get home, comfortably relaxing and spending more time at work throughout the day. Don't know how practical this is and suppose it depends on the manager but it's a cool theory.

Content

Precise jab.
Swift motion.
Coquettish smile.
Conversation.
Music.

It was as if she wanted me to think of her whenever I thought of the city, distilling all of its various outlets and modes of expression into a smile, battering eyelash, tight pair of jeans, or clever remark. Such vanity thought I but at the same time such confidence.

Dust Lit Plain

Heat from the furnace.
Scent of the pine.
Red berries.

Machete

Robert Rodriguez's new action film Machete (co-directed by Ethan Maniquis) accomplishes its goals and effectively pays respect to its filmic heritage. But it's no Planet Terror. The right content is in place. An implacable officer of the law is disgraced and humiliated by a corrupt Mexican drug lord (Steven Seagal as Torrez) and left with nothing besides his integrity and honour (Danny Trejo as Machete). Continuing to make ends meet as a landscape artist, he is eventually hired by a rich thug (Jeff Fahey as Michael Booth) to kill a politician whose policies vilify illegal Mexican immigration to the United States (Robert de Niro as Senator John McLaughlin). But a double-cross is in the mix, and Machete soon finds himself hunted by Booth's men after narrowly escaping their treacherous clutches. Alone and on the run, he finds help from a sultry revolutionary posing as a taco-salesperson (Michelle Rodriguez as Luz) and a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agent who needs to recalibrate her attitude (Jessica Alba as Sartana Rivera). Blades and bullets carve up and shoot through a copious cast of ruffians as justice is delivered with unrelenting speed and precision.

The following strengths permeate Machete: it takes itself seriously while seeming unconcerned and distracted which results in a confident cohesive bravado; there are plenty of ridiculous situations and conversations which accentuate its robust candour; voluptuous babes, a pure and indestructible hero, mayhem, and a clearly defined purpose; over the top incompetent villains who are consistently outmaneuvered and thwarted; classic showdown in the end heralded by several acrobatic and athletic escapes throughout; solid response to harsh immigration laws; these features and many others coalesce to forge a thrilling A-listed B-movie whose volatile vendettas and frenetic flesh provides myriad treats for the senses. But the writing lacks the hilarious moments that made Planet Terror superlative kitsch and many scenes consistently fall flat as a consequence. This isn't necessarily a bad thing considering that many of the films to which Machete pays homage possess similar scripts. But many of these films aren't the greatest and Planet Terror worked because it was one of the greatest not-so-great films of the early 2000s, one of my favourites anyways. I'm afraid that without the linguistic skill and ingenuity that adhesively structured Planet Terror's action and dialogue, Machete is little more than a vivid and harmonious recapturing of a lacklustre aesthetic, perfectly sliced, yet lacking innovation.