Shocking restocking the cursed gathered cower
encurdled regurgled stark diamondbacked scours
the venom beleavened contaminates, shrieks,
forlorn voracious inanimate creeps
indiscreet in extolling their cauldron's stale brew
riddled with asinine ghoulish obtuse,
pathologically pinstriped imparched invalids
rustlings pernicious perdition's surfeit
I spotted them perched up on high in an oak
the chill autumn air gently wrestling my cloak
their plan seemed in earnest as leaves round me fell
and winter's approach served to darken their spell
caramel strikes I channelled its spirited essence
distilled it through rhyme and spiked it with sentence
a crow passing by sent it gliding on air
to counter their potion's rapacious despair
Guinevere.
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Friday, October 30, 2015
Crimson Peak
I think Crimson Peak was meant to be funny, to be a dis/possessed take on an old style of filmmaking that used to relish in its mediocrity before succumbing to mass alterations in taste.
If this is the case, I didn't get it, and although it might have been paying tribute to a bygone era of gaudy enterprise, it doesn't change the fact that this film suppresses.
It's hard to write that, I usually love Guillermo del Toro's films, larger than life macabre matriculations fluidly dictating realities of the fantastical.
Crimson Peak's production design is on par with his earlier work but the story and its associated devices are uniformly unexceptional and consistently dull.
It seems to be taking itself seriously throughout, that's its greatest shortcoming.
And the intermittent bursts of graphic violence taken out on historical paradigms, the stricken aristocrat avenging herself on the rise of the bourgeoise for instance, seem out of place in a horror film that's so resoundingly not scary.
If it had seemed comic, like it was seriously making fun of itself, it may have corrosively triumphed.
It didn't seem that way to be me though, not, not, at all.
Jessica Chastain (Lucille Sharpe) does put in a great performance however.
She's got talent, and commands every scene she's in.
If this is the case, I didn't get it, and although it might have been paying tribute to a bygone era of gaudy enterprise, it doesn't change the fact that this film suppresses.
It's hard to write that, I usually love Guillermo del Toro's films, larger than life macabre matriculations fluidly dictating realities of the fantastical.
Crimson Peak's production design is on par with his earlier work but the story and its associated devices are uniformly unexceptional and consistently dull.
It seems to be taking itself seriously throughout, that's its greatest shortcoming.
And the intermittent bursts of graphic violence taken out on historical paradigms, the stricken aristocrat avenging herself on the rise of the bourgeoise for instance, seem out of place in a horror film that's so resoundingly not scary.
If it had seemed comic, like it was seriously making fun of itself, it may have corrosively triumphed.
It didn't seem that way to be me though, not, not, at all.
Jessica Chastain (Lucille Sharpe) does put in a great performance however.
She's got talent, and commands every scene she's in.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
I am somewhat worried about the Denver Broncos's offence this season, but am also thinking their lacklustre play may be a positive thing.
Peyton Manning usually enters the playoffs on fire and often loses his first game.
Thus, if he has to struggle to win a bunch of close games throughout the regular season, perhaps he'll be better versed in the art of ensuring playoff victory in January and February.
Thoughts.
Peyton Manning usually enters the playoffs on fire and often loses his first game.
Thus, if he has to struggle to win a bunch of close games throughout the regular season, perhaps he'll be better versed in the art of ensuring playoff victory in January and February.
Thoughts.
Gut Instinct
I like the idea that my gut is full of different microbial communities who flourish and decline depending upon what I eat and drink.
It makes me want to minimize the decline of any form of healthy bacteria currently residing in my stomach by maximizing the number of soulful foods I digest.
Through eating a diverse variety of foods rich in nutrients, perhaps I will be able to nurture the communal development of a multicultural bacterial resonance deep within, whose corresponding tastes will be as effervescent as they are augustly tribal.
Apparently they may even affect my mood and control my weight.
I wish I could keep track of their organizational movements.
Thinking it's time for a greek salad.
Jealous of the Hazda.
It makes me want to minimize the decline of any form of healthy bacteria currently residing in my stomach by maximizing the number of soulful foods I digest.
Through eating a diverse variety of foods rich in nutrients, perhaps I will be able to nurture the communal development of a multicultural bacterial resonance deep within, whose corresponding tastes will be as effervescent as they are augustly tribal.
Apparently they may even affect my mood and control my weight.
I wish I could keep track of their organizational movements.
Thinking it's time for a greek salad.
Jealous of the Hazda.
God Dam
I often don't think about God, or God's existence, anymore, the study of history and amount of blood that continues to be shed around the world in his or her theoretical name having left me thinking that there is no God, or at least one that cares about intervening in the affairs of planet Earth to end exploitation and oppression etc., however, the existence of the beaver does lead me to believe that perhaps God or some form of multidimensional spiritual unity (God for short) does exist, for the following reasons.
Most of the animals I'm familiar with spend most of their time searching for food and/or taking care of young, striving to exist, peacefully or aggressively comporting themselves.
But for some bizarre reason, the beaver spends its time collecting wood in order to make dams so that it can significantly alter its terrain, often to the benefit of neighbouring species.
The raccoon doesn't do this.
Neither does the fox.
I saw a nature program about the foolish introduction of beavers to islands off the coast of Argentina which suggested that beavers build dams because the sound of running water irritates them intensely, and they proved their point by playing the sound of running water on a ghetto blaster, which a beaver then covered in mud shortly thereafter.
Why does the sound of running water irritate them so?
And how did they figure out how to stop it?
It's possible that they just watched birds building nests and somehow applied such home building skills to the creation of dams, but why don't other animals do similar things?, why is it only the beaver?
Perhaps the other animals are simply much lazier than the industrious beaver whom they thank for helping them find food yet secretly begrudge for working so hard?
And if God gave the beaver the power to build dams, why didn't he or she give similar powers to the other animals?
Impossible to say, yet still, for some primordial reason, beavers build dams while most of the other animals have a less productive relationship with existence.
Why do they build these dams?
Why?
*If the existence of the beaver does prove the existence of God, I still don't think he or she is set to intervene in human affairs at any given time. It makes more sense to me that s/he gave us the power to understand and take care of our environment in order to better our lives. If we destroy that environment through pollution and oppression consequently, I wouldn't expect him or her to return to heal it, rather, I would expect her or him to return to reprimand us for having destroyed it. That makes more sense to me.
Eternally so.
Most of the animals I'm familiar with spend most of their time searching for food and/or taking care of young, striving to exist, peacefully or aggressively comporting themselves.
But for some bizarre reason, the beaver spends its time collecting wood in order to make dams so that it can significantly alter its terrain, often to the benefit of neighbouring species.
The raccoon doesn't do this.
Neither does the fox.
I saw a nature program about the foolish introduction of beavers to islands off the coast of Argentina which suggested that beavers build dams because the sound of running water irritates them intensely, and they proved their point by playing the sound of running water on a ghetto blaster, which a beaver then covered in mud shortly thereafter.
Why does the sound of running water irritate them so?
And how did they figure out how to stop it?
It's possible that they just watched birds building nests and somehow applied such home building skills to the creation of dams, but why don't other animals do similar things?, why is it only the beaver?
Perhaps the other animals are simply much lazier than the industrious beaver whom they thank for helping them find food yet secretly begrudge for working so hard?
And if God gave the beaver the power to build dams, why didn't he or she give similar powers to the other animals?
Impossible to say, yet still, for some primordial reason, beavers build dams while most of the other animals have a less productive relationship with existence.
Why do they build these dams?
Why?
*If the existence of the beaver does prove the existence of God, I still don't think he or she is set to intervene in human affairs at any given time. It makes more sense to me that s/he gave us the power to understand and take care of our environment in order to better our lives. If we destroy that environment through pollution and oppression consequently, I wouldn't expect him or her to return to heal it, rather, I would expect her or him to return to reprimand us for having destroyed it. That makes more sense to me.
Eternally so.
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Bridge of Spies
I remember reading a comic about Pink Floyd in my youth to learn more about the band.
It was fun and informative and one of its frames still sticks out in my mind.
It concerned the creation of The Final Cut and depicted David Gilmour exclaiming something like, "most of these songs were cut from The Wall."
Harsh times.
The band only ever reunited for one show.
Steven Spielberg's Bridge of Spies made me think of that moment due to its similarities to Lincoln.
Similar themes, a similar pursuit of justice, of truth, a principled man upholding fundamental rights amidst an onslaught of professional and cultural criticism, doing what's right, consequences notwithstanding.
But it's a pale comparison of Lincoln, whose robust multidimensional political intrigues made me recommend it for best picture in 2013.
To its credit, Bridge of Spies does stick to a particular aesthetic throughout, jurisprudently maintaining constitutional continuity, it's just that this aesthetic, no doubt cherished in my youth, is overflowing with trite sentimentality.
You know exactly what you're supposed to think and feel in every scene.
It's like Lincoln focuses directly on the American community with a large cast and myriad staggering displacements, while Bridge of Spies clandestinely curates a lawyer's objective search for counterintuitive yet ideal vindications of the American individual, in a blunt straightforward concrete crucible.
No bells and whistles here, just a basic introduction to American liberty provokingly stylized for today's film loving youth.
It does advocate for a remarkably logical and upright attitude concerning the sociocultural politics of espionage.
I can't behind this one though.
Way too formulaic.
It was fun and informative and one of its frames still sticks out in my mind.
It concerned the creation of The Final Cut and depicted David Gilmour exclaiming something like, "most of these songs were cut from The Wall."
Harsh times.
The band only ever reunited for one show.
Steven Spielberg's Bridge of Spies made me think of that moment due to its similarities to Lincoln.
Similar themes, a similar pursuit of justice, of truth, a principled man upholding fundamental rights amidst an onslaught of professional and cultural criticism, doing what's right, consequences notwithstanding.
But it's a pale comparison of Lincoln, whose robust multidimensional political intrigues made me recommend it for best picture in 2013.
To its credit, Bridge of Spies does stick to a particular aesthetic throughout, jurisprudently maintaining constitutional continuity, it's just that this aesthetic, no doubt cherished in my youth, is overflowing with trite sentimentality.
You know exactly what you're supposed to think and feel in every scene.
It's like Lincoln focuses directly on the American community with a large cast and myriad staggering displacements, while Bridge of Spies clandestinely curates a lawyer's objective search for counterintuitive yet ideal vindications of the American individual, in a blunt straightforward concrete crucible.
No bells and whistles here, just a basic introduction to American liberty provokingly stylized for today's film loving youth.
It does advocate for a remarkably logical and upright attitude concerning the sociocultural politics of espionage.
I can't behind this one though.
Way too formulaic.
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Entreat
Celebrating surfaced skies
justice rematerialized
a crutch, an instinct there preserved
the democratic spirit's surge
a reborn international
perspective flanked with liberal
renditions sea lions open-minded
dig in deep expand refine it
saddened still by such a loss
New Democrats discarded costs
to wisdom sewn collectively
Mulcair still lives resplendently,
a new envisioned plush horizon
speech no longer crushed the silent
voices rush to reclaim key
exhilarated freedoms heed
exceed.
justice rematerialized
a crutch, an instinct there preserved
the democratic spirit's surge
a reborn international
perspective flanked with liberal
renditions sea lions open-minded
dig in deep expand refine it
saddened still by such a loss
New Democrats discarded costs
to wisdom sewn collectively
Mulcair still lives resplendently,
a new envisioned plush horizon
speech no longer crushed the silent
voices rush to reclaim key
exhilarated freedoms heed
exceed.
Friday, October 23, 2015
Ville-Marie
Time, working, family, accidents, surprises, routines, love.
An emotion sustained for months or a lifetime, regardless passionate rapture eternally embraced, questioned, appealed to, reevaluated, censored, longed for by many, cursed by a few.
Guy Édoin's Ville-Marie intertwines several lives to examine love professionally, from occupational perspectives, working love into the working day, as it follows two mothers working in amorous domains.
Proust's madeleine can be confusing as you're sitting at work doing some everyday task that seems to have nothing to do with anything you've ever done, before you're then suddenly flooded with long forgotten memories.
The intensity of these memories can throw you off for a second or two as you readjust to whatever it is you happen to be doing, considerations of the madeleine then complicating things further, before you refocus, and plunge back within.
There's no time to dissect the correlation.
No time to illuminate the emotion.
You can come back to it later after the moment has passed if you have an inkling to do so, after which point the resonant intensity will have decreased, and you may have to rely on meditation to recover it.
It's this frame that I externally apply to Sophie Bernard (Monica Bellucci) and Marie Santerre (Pascale Bussières) as I consider their struggles with love, both having estranged relationships with their sons, both competent professionals haunted by their family lives.
Their predetermined roles.
Ville-Marie isn't that simple, rather, it's an intricate delicate yet harsh illustration of the devastating affects of unexpected consciousness altering collisions.
It isn't really delicate or harsh but seemed to be surreally moving back and forth within a continuum established between these qualifications, or perhaps within a spherical relation with love forging the z-axis, professionalism, relationships, family, honesty, and trust stylizing the encompassing bulk material.
The ponderous weight.
Dreamlike yet relatable, Ville-Marie maturely investigates unpronounced social phenomenons, tragically exemplifying the confines of material existence.
Caught within its relational void lie several struggling characters, unconsciously searching for meaning, madeleines within madeleines, awoken by shocking extremities.
With hints of Mulholland Drive.
An emotion sustained for months or a lifetime, regardless passionate rapture eternally embraced, questioned, appealed to, reevaluated, censored, longed for by many, cursed by a few.
Guy Édoin's Ville-Marie intertwines several lives to examine love professionally, from occupational perspectives, working love into the working day, as it follows two mothers working in amorous domains.
Proust's madeleine can be confusing as you're sitting at work doing some everyday task that seems to have nothing to do with anything you've ever done, before you're then suddenly flooded with long forgotten memories.
The intensity of these memories can throw you off for a second or two as you readjust to whatever it is you happen to be doing, considerations of the madeleine then complicating things further, before you refocus, and plunge back within.
There's no time to dissect the correlation.
No time to illuminate the emotion.
You can come back to it later after the moment has passed if you have an inkling to do so, after which point the resonant intensity will have decreased, and you may have to rely on meditation to recover it.
It's this frame that I externally apply to Sophie Bernard (Monica Bellucci) and Marie Santerre (Pascale Bussières) as I consider their struggles with love, both having estranged relationships with their sons, both competent professionals haunted by their family lives.
Their predetermined roles.
Ville-Marie isn't that simple, rather, it's an intricate delicate yet harsh illustration of the devastating affects of unexpected consciousness altering collisions.
It isn't really delicate or harsh but seemed to be surreally moving back and forth within a continuum established between these qualifications, or perhaps within a spherical relation with love forging the z-axis, professionalism, relationships, family, honesty, and trust stylizing the encompassing bulk material.
The ponderous weight.
Dreamlike yet relatable, Ville-Marie maturely investigates unpronounced social phenomenons, tragically exemplifying the confines of material existence.
Caught within its relational void lie several struggling characters, unconsciously searching for meaning, madeleines within madeleines, awoken by shocking extremities.
With hints of Mulholland Drive.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Guibord s'en va-t-en guerre
It comes down to one man, his independence in jeopardy, democracy in motion, the deciding vote, will Canada or will Canada not go to war?, the Conservatives pro, the Liberals contra, local economic interests seeing opportunities both lush and lucrative, employment, outsiders, vehemently upholding ethical curricula, the pressure intensifying, he seems unconcerned.
Steve Guibord (Patrick Huard) that is, independent MP for a federal riding in Northern Québec, suddenly thrust into the limelight, suddenly given supreme authority.
It's a lighthearted comedy, Guibord s'en va-t-en guerre, heartwarmingly dealing with extraordinarily complex political issues with down home country charm, issues such as Aboriginal Rights, workers rights, big d Democracy, intergovernmental relations, ethical reporting, international sensations, war, and protesting, to name a few.
Haitian born Souverain (Irdens Exantus) endearingly humanizes these factors in an erudite salute to political philosophy.
Seriously contrasting Ego Trip's Sammy.
Obviously many of these issues are quite touchy, and they're momentarily resolved somewhat achingly, but the film does skilfully keep things local, perhaps accidentally addressing predetermined criticisms, by remaining blissfully aware.
Politically aware.
The geopolitics of the proposed war aren't really discussed, the in-depth analysis of war's impact out maneuvered by the prospects of economic growth, unfairly depicted protesters from Winnipeg failing to outwit, until Guibord's daughter's (Clémence Dufresne-Deslières as Lune) frustrated pleas begin to register.
I do find that many people I know are politically aware, but politics is a multidimensional continuum, especially in Québec where the dynamic is much more intense, and when you have a plethora of parties each advocating to specifically yet generally define political awareness, the concept sort of dematerializes, even if it's highly abstract to begin with.
Focus. Remain focused.
It's not that you can't expect an awareness of geopolitical agitations to be found in the North, but you can expect such realities to hold less weight than putting food on the table, on occasion, especially if a mine closes, government subsidies dry up, or tensions increase due to conflicting resource management agendas.
Guibord recognizes this, and playfully uses it to its advantage.
It's not just like that in the North.
But apart from its schmaltzy meandering, I really loved watching Guibord, being a part of the audience.
I didn't get some of the jokes, and didn't really like it, but, and the same thing happened while I was watching Ego Trip, the audience loved it and did get the jokes, and from their friendly laughter I found proof, more proof, that Québec really does have its own vibrant film industry, where citizens do really take their home-on-the-range domestic films seriously, a living breathing cultural conviviality, something that's missing from English Canada.
I haven't said that for years.
Did the Liberal party fund this film behind the scenes?
Questions.
*Who came up with the English title? Lame.
Steve Guibord (Patrick Huard) that is, independent MP for a federal riding in Northern Québec, suddenly thrust into the limelight, suddenly given supreme authority.
It's a lighthearted comedy, Guibord s'en va-t-en guerre, heartwarmingly dealing with extraordinarily complex political issues with down home country charm, issues such as Aboriginal Rights, workers rights, big d Democracy, intergovernmental relations, ethical reporting, international sensations, war, and protesting, to name a few.
Haitian born Souverain (Irdens Exantus) endearingly humanizes these factors in an erudite salute to political philosophy.
Seriously contrasting Ego Trip's Sammy.
Obviously many of these issues are quite touchy, and they're momentarily resolved somewhat achingly, but the film does skilfully keep things local, perhaps accidentally addressing predetermined criticisms, by remaining blissfully aware.
Politically aware.
The geopolitics of the proposed war aren't really discussed, the in-depth analysis of war's impact out maneuvered by the prospects of economic growth, unfairly depicted protesters from Winnipeg failing to outwit, until Guibord's daughter's (Clémence Dufresne-Deslières as Lune) frustrated pleas begin to register.
I do find that many people I know are politically aware, but politics is a multidimensional continuum, especially in Québec where the dynamic is much more intense, and when you have a plethora of parties each advocating to specifically yet generally define political awareness, the concept sort of dematerializes, even if it's highly abstract to begin with.
Focus. Remain focused.
It's not that you can't expect an awareness of geopolitical agitations to be found in the North, but you can expect such realities to hold less weight than putting food on the table, on occasion, especially if a mine closes, government subsidies dry up, or tensions increase due to conflicting resource management agendas.
Guibord recognizes this, and playfully uses it to its advantage.
It's not just like that in the North.
But apart from its schmaltzy meandering, I really loved watching Guibord, being a part of the audience.
I didn't get some of the jokes, and didn't really like it, but, and the same thing happened while I was watching Ego Trip, the audience loved it and did get the jokes, and from their friendly laughter I found proof, more proof, that Québec really does have its own vibrant film industry, where citizens do really take their home-on-the-range domestic films seriously, a living breathing cultural conviviality, something that's missing from English Canada.
I haven't said that for years.
Did the Liberal party fund this film behind the scenes?
Questions.
*Who came up with the English title? Lame.
Monday, October 19, 2015
It saddens me to write this, but tonight is a night for celebration.
Was really hoping the NDP would still hold the balance of power in parliament in a minority situation.
I honestly thought Mulcair would make a better prime minister than Justin Trudeau, but that didn't happen, and Trudeau's not so bad.
I couldn't believe how he turned things around after the Maclean's debate.
He started making inspiring speeches, and, good points.
I thought Mulcair was more eloquent and erudite, but he unfortunately never took off with the electorate the way Layton did.
The parties aren't that different really, on a number of issues, and you wonder if their attempts to differentiate themselves only bring them closer together.
I would love to see the Liberals introduce proportional representation in parliament.
Your vote really can matter in a proportional representation system.
You don't have to vote strategically.
You can vote for the party you want to win.
I did vote for the NDP.
But wow did the Liberals ever sell Trudeau well.
And did he ever rise to the occasion.
He looked like a teenager compared to Mulcair and Harper in the Maclean's debate.
And it was like that teenager hit his early forties less than a week later.
And his youth so mesmerizingly contrasted Harper and Mulcair's aged wisdom that he was able to boldly refine a new vision for Canada, one rich with youthful energy, that's hard not to dismiss.
I like having a young hipsteresque Prime Minister.
Was really hoping the NDP would still hold the balance of power in parliament in a minority situation.
It's still early.
Maybe they still will.
The best shot the NDP's ever had, brought down by the niqab.
Ridiculous.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Bandits
The shoreline streaked with pitter-patter
rustlings sleuthing earthen matters
believing that their movements stake
invisible imparted gaits,
but I did indeed detect them
as they stretched throughout the spectrum
searching for envisioned snacks
closely following the tracks
which have lead historically
to jiving nursed serenity
investigated flush potential
exploring designs reverential
off they went upon their journey,
cute, thought I, this hurly-burly
nighttime versed adventuring
upon the land's eternal cling
cruising.
rustlings sleuthing earthen matters
believing that their movements stake
invisible imparted gaits,
but I did indeed detect them
as they stretched throughout the spectrum
searching for envisioned snacks
closely following the tracks
which have lead historically
to jiving nursed serenity
investigated flush potential
exploring designs reverential
off they went upon their journey,
cute, thought I, this hurly-burly
nighttime versed adventuring
upon the land's eternal cling
cruising.
Friday, October 16, 2015
The Walk
The ultimate performance, unannounced and unanticipated, sheer indubitable factualized vision, confidently clinging to an irrepressible irresistibility, lights, camera, action, essential timing delicately stretched, sensational spotlights, a breathtaking parlay.
With the unknown.
The exponential.
High-wire walking between the twin towers.
Nitroglycerin.
At the break of dawn.
Again, a team, symphonic accomplices, taking great risks to accomplish the legendary, photographic amorous mathematical mingling, caught up in the surge, improvised precise romantics.
Hijinks.
It's an entertaining performance, The Walk, its subject matter providing inspirational added value, tenderly heightening taut peculiarities, the underground's apex, transcending on cue.
Joseph Gordon-Levitt (Philippe Petit) holds it together.
He exuberantly functions as both starving artist and master of ceremonies to conjure an athletic tribute to will and determination, like you're seated in the front row of a stealth big top, ideal showpersonship, nimbly navigating in stride.
In English and French.
Walking the line, North to South, back again, wild card or integral force?
You decide.
Although The Walk isn't exactly cultivating fallow artistic ground, it's still permeated by intense awe inspiring wonder, like gelatin or spontaneous friendship, swaying and blowing with the breeze.
It seems like Zemeckis was genuinely concerned with fascinatingly presenting a down to earth yet wily crowd pleasing sentiment, and with the cast and crew energetically on board, and the climax pressurizing the audacious, I found little to critique about this film, caught between two worlds, a Parisian New Yorker's lexicon.
With the unknown.
The exponential.
High-wire walking between the twin towers.
Nitroglycerin.
At the break of dawn.
Again, a team, symphonic accomplices, taking great risks to accomplish the legendary, photographic amorous mathematical mingling, caught up in the surge, improvised precise romantics.
Hijinks.
It's an entertaining performance, The Walk, its subject matter providing inspirational added value, tenderly heightening taut peculiarities, the underground's apex, transcending on cue.
Joseph Gordon-Levitt (Philippe Petit) holds it together.
He exuberantly functions as both starving artist and master of ceremonies to conjure an athletic tribute to will and determination, like you're seated in the front row of a stealth big top, ideal showpersonship, nimbly navigating in stride.
In English and French.
Walking the line, North to South, back again, wild card or integral force?
You decide.
Although The Walk isn't exactly cultivating fallow artistic ground, it's still permeated by intense awe inspiring wonder, like gelatin or spontaneous friendship, swaying and blowing with the breeze.
It seems like Zemeckis was genuinely concerned with fascinatingly presenting a down to earth yet wily crowd pleasing sentiment, and with the cast and crew energetically on board, and the climax pressurizing the audacious, I found little to critique about this film, caught between two worlds, a Parisian New Yorker's lexicon.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Everest
A team assembled, leaders guiding both veterans and new recruits, with goals of ascension, summits, their lives held in trust, clutching the ropes, struggling with shock, slowly and steadily moving one foot forwards, circulatory stamina, keeling, as a storm sets in.
It's sometimes but not often the case that strictly adhering to every rule at all times doesn't encourage smooth workflows in the civilian domain, in work-a-day realms where your life isn't directly threatened, but Baltasar Kormákur's Everest warns that when engaged in high stakes adventuring, adhering to the rules is a best practice at all times.
Years of successfully leading the bold up Mount Everest have left both Rob Hall (Jason Clarke) and Scott Fischer (Jake Gyllenhaal) feeling invincible, and although steps are taken to ensure health and safety, crucial factors are ignored, for which they pay a strict penalty.
One heart has grown too big.
Another simply thinks he can do anything.
Everest succeeds as a majestic unpretentious accessible quest, relying on will and determination to motivate its operandi, the rationality of the insurmountable, brashly grappling with its cause.
I was worried that it would unreel like a horror film, the mountain claiming its victims one by one, due to the ways in which it introduced most of its characters, but it isn't like that at all, the storm rather menacing the group as one.
As nature formidably contests, there's a sense of incomparable awe.
A force too omnipresent to dread.
Inspiring images of climate change.
Cinematography by Salvatore Totino.
It's sometimes but not often the case that strictly adhering to every rule at all times doesn't encourage smooth workflows in the civilian domain, in work-a-day realms where your life isn't directly threatened, but Baltasar Kormákur's Everest warns that when engaged in high stakes adventuring, adhering to the rules is a best practice at all times.
Years of successfully leading the bold up Mount Everest have left both Rob Hall (Jason Clarke) and Scott Fischer (Jake Gyllenhaal) feeling invincible, and although steps are taken to ensure health and safety, crucial factors are ignored, for which they pay a strict penalty.
One heart has grown too big.
Another simply thinks he can do anything.
Everest succeeds as a majestic unpretentious accessible quest, relying on will and determination to motivate its operandi, the rationality of the insurmountable, brashly grappling with its cause.
I was worried that it would unreel like a horror film, the mountain claiming its victims one by one, due to the ways in which it introduced most of its characters, but it isn't like that at all, the storm rather menacing the group as one.
As nature formidably contests, there's a sense of incomparable awe.
A force too omnipresent to dread.
Inspiring images of climate change.
Cinematography by Salvatore Totino.
Saturday, October 10, 2015
It's about strength, you know.
Sure, I don't like the niqab, I don't like what it stands for, but does it threaten my identity as a Canadian?, are you mad?, perhaps I spent too much time watching American television and movies as a kid, but it's going to take a hell of a lot more than 0.00000000001 percent of the population embracing archaic discriminatory traditions to come into conflict with my confident sense of self.
Ridiculous.
It shouldn't even be an issue.
Segregating and outcasting minorities is more offensive than the niqab, and it only causes the segregated to resent the population at large.
Leave them be, let their children grow up in a multicultural environment where gender equality is sought after.
They're much more likely to discard the niqab having grown up in a tolerant environment than in one which enflames hatred.
Which is what the Conservatives and Bloc Québécois are trying to do.
And if they don't discard the niqab, they will still only make up 0.00000000001 percent of the population.
Like snake charmers or mollusk worshippers.
Who cares?
Sure, I don't like the niqab, I don't like what it stands for, but does it threaten my identity as a Canadian?, are you mad?, perhaps I spent too much time watching American television and movies as a kid, but it's going to take a hell of a lot more than 0.00000000001 percent of the population embracing archaic discriminatory traditions to come into conflict with my confident sense of self.
Ridiculous.
It shouldn't even be an issue.
Segregating and outcasting minorities is more offensive than the niqab, and it only causes the segregated to resent the population at large.
Leave them be, let their children grow up in a multicultural environment where gender equality is sought after.
They're much more likely to discard the niqab having grown up in a tolerant environment than in one which enflames hatred.
Which is what the Conservatives and Bloc Québécois are trying to do.
And if they don't discard the niqab, they will still only make up 0.00000000001 percent of the population.
Like snake charmers or mollusk worshippers.
Who cares?
Unwind
The birds and squirrels chirp or scamper
entranced by her nutritious candour
early morning snacks delight
their youthful luminescent sights
I like to sit and watch them jockey
Nature's existential hockey
bury chomp deke out to nibble
while I ponder what to scribble
tough to earn your daily bread
within the urban concrete spread
though everyone still finds the time
to cherish moments this sublime
in rhyme.
*Thanksgiving poems
entranced by her nutritious candour
early morning snacks delight
their youthful luminescent sights
I like to sit and watch them jockey
Nature's existential hockey
bury chomp deke out to nibble
while I ponder what to scribble
tough to earn your daily bread
within the urban concrete spread
though everyone still finds the time
to cherish moments this sublime
in rhyme.
*Thanksgiving poems
Morning Star
A crisp enlightened autumn morn
darkness shivering to scorn
approaches of the burning light
comprehensive solar flights
while one last unextinguished star
adorns the moon with flames pulsar
a fleeting nighttime Cinderella
bids farewell to Gargamella
spotted by a vision crimson
tides they turn with imprecision
a chance to change what's come to pass
with lively bold and unsurpassed
vivace.
darkness shivering to scorn
approaches of the burning light
comprehensive solar flights
while one last unextinguished star
adorns the moon with flames pulsar
a fleeting nighttime Cinderella
bids farewell to Gargamella
spotted by a vision crimson
tides they turn with imprecision
a chance to change what's come to pass
with lively bold and unsurpassed
vivace.
Aurelius
Rush outlast the toil's deluge
10 hours passed and this site's huge
when suddenly blinks of the eyes
see respite materialize
a friendly word presents itself
tobacco cultivated helps
to put fatigue back on the shelf
adrenaline exalted pelt
what's left with unrelenting vigour
the end's in sight extend the rigour
an unexpected brief ignites
instincts herculean, might,
excite.
10 hours passed and this site's huge
when suddenly blinks of the eyes
see respite materialize
a friendly word presents itself
tobacco cultivated helps
to put fatigue back on the shelf
adrenaline exalted pelt
what's left with unrelenting vigour
the end's in sight extend the rigour
an unexpected brief ignites
instincts herculean, might,
excite.
Friday, October 9, 2015
Sicario
Revenge.
Obsession.
Law.
Order.
The big picture, international intrigue, drugs smuggled in from Mexico to the United States, 20% of the American population consuming them while the profits fuel domestic violence south of the border, the number of sequestered kingpins having expanded in recent decades, too many to control, too deadly to ignore.
Stats and info provided by Sicario.
The film indirectly comments on ISIL, on Saddam Hussein, the theory that he was the strongperson who kept the extremists in check, who maintained Iraqi order regardless of his methods, the vacuum created after his removal having led to ISIL, who is currently seeking to control much more than Kuwait.
Plutocratic blunders.
It's the same thing in Sicario, the Americans having had more success monitoring/controlling the drug trade when there was only one kingping narcotically nesting, according to the film, a multidimensional marketplace full of alluring alternatives working well for the sale of computers or jeans, but not for the trafficking of drugs.
Wolves eating wolves.
Victims menaced and menacing.
Sicario fictionalizes tough decisions, capital gains, as Alejandro (Benicio Del Toro) seeks to assassinate a leading man, and Kate Macer (Emily Blunt) idealistically monitors his actions, the masculine and the feminine conflicting thereby.
A Mexican policeperson, a father, enters the narrative to ask the question "do Alejandro's methods justify his results, do his means justify his ends"?, the violent violently infernalizing social spheres, do as you're told or you'll never grow old, dig in deep and try to exist, extreme unlicensed ego, upheld by any means necessary.
No exceptions.
No limits.
No humour.
Behind the scenes kings and queens.
À la carte.
I liked the film; thought that it could have been more menacing.
Shades of Zero Dark Thirty.
Obsession.
Law.
Order.
The big picture, international intrigue, drugs smuggled in from Mexico to the United States, 20% of the American population consuming them while the profits fuel domestic violence south of the border, the number of sequestered kingpins having expanded in recent decades, too many to control, too deadly to ignore.
Stats and info provided by Sicario.
The film indirectly comments on ISIL, on Saddam Hussein, the theory that he was the strongperson who kept the extremists in check, who maintained Iraqi order regardless of his methods, the vacuum created after his removal having led to ISIL, who is currently seeking to control much more than Kuwait.
Plutocratic blunders.
It's the same thing in Sicario, the Americans having had more success monitoring/controlling the drug trade when there was only one kingping narcotically nesting, according to the film, a multidimensional marketplace full of alluring alternatives working well for the sale of computers or jeans, but not for the trafficking of drugs.
Wolves eating wolves.
Victims menaced and menacing.
Sicario fictionalizes tough decisions, capital gains, as Alejandro (Benicio Del Toro) seeks to assassinate a leading man, and Kate Macer (Emily Blunt) idealistically monitors his actions, the masculine and the feminine conflicting thereby.
A Mexican policeperson, a father, enters the narrative to ask the question "do Alejandro's methods justify his results, do his means justify his ends"?, the violent violently infernalizing social spheres, do as you're told or you'll never grow old, dig in deep and try to exist, extreme unlicensed ego, upheld by any means necessary.
No exceptions.
No limits.
No humour.
Behind the scenes kings and queens.
À la carte.
I liked the film; thought that it could have been more menacing.
Shades of Zero Dark Thirty.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Trainwreck
Trainwreck provides an unconcerned look at players coming off the bench, of accompaniments, of value-added information.
The overt narrative kept losing me.
But throughout the film there are a remarkable number of scenes that suddenly pop-up and add unpretentious inappropriate callous cheeky depth, again and again, scenes which break through the tedium and nonchalantly confide, like writer Amy Schumer was aware that one component of a bipartisan entity (a relationship) sometimes finds romantic comedies unfulfilling, and cleverly came up with ways to keep them playfully amused.
Excalibur.
Enter LeBron James, who I thought performed well enough, commenting on this and that while exercising a pleasantly absurd frugality.
Brainstorming ideas for new articles at the office offers brief insights into minimalistic discourses of the hilarious.
Check out Daniel Radcliffe and Marisa Tomei.
Dianna's (Tilda Swinton) blunt obstinance proves fertile, like an egg pickled in stolichnaya.
And it's like these subtle snarky distractions are slowly building to a fever pitch, in the form of a well-played quasi-intervention, Matthew Broderick, LeBron, Chris Evert, and Marv Albert sitting in, expressing their interest while coveting the genuine, unexpected and well executed, a welcome late inning strike.
Reminiscent of Rance Mulliniks.
Asteroids.
The overt narrative kept losing me.
But throughout the film there are a remarkable number of scenes that suddenly pop-up and add unpretentious inappropriate callous cheeky depth, again and again, scenes which break through the tedium and nonchalantly confide, like writer Amy Schumer was aware that one component of a bipartisan entity (a relationship) sometimes finds romantic comedies unfulfilling, and cleverly came up with ways to keep them playfully amused.
Excalibur.
Enter LeBron James, who I thought performed well enough, commenting on this and that while exercising a pleasantly absurd frugality.
Brainstorming ideas for new articles at the office offers brief insights into minimalistic discourses of the hilarious.
Check out Daniel Radcliffe and Marisa Tomei.
Dianna's (Tilda Swinton) blunt obstinance proves fertile, like an egg pickled in stolichnaya.
And it's like these subtle snarky distractions are slowly building to a fever pitch, in the form of a well-played quasi-intervention, Matthew Broderick, LeBron, Chris Evert, and Marv Albert sitting in, expressing their interest while coveting the genuine, unexpected and well executed, a welcome late inning strike.
Reminiscent of Rance Mulliniks.
Asteroids.
Monday, October 5, 2015
Saturday, October 3, 2015
The old saying, "the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
It's fitting for what I'm about to write, which may sound ludicrous at best.
It's well known that the Bloc Québécois and the Parti Québécois want Québec to separate from Canada and form an independent country, I think it's safe to say this without doubting its truth or disputing its validity.
But is there another political party, one from English Canada, that also wants Québec to separate?
I read Maude Barlow's Too Close for Comfort: Canada's Future within Fortress North America years ago, and at one point within she mentions that Stephen Harper was opposed to multiculturalism, public health, public education, the wheat board, Canada Post, unions, gender equality, multilingualism, anything public, anything communal, any initiative created by and/or for the people, people power, disliked by Stephen Harper, kings and queens, CEOs, loved, cherished, kowtowed to.
Please forgive me if I've left something out of her list or added something that wasn't there previously. I don't have a copy of the book with me to fact check.
I think it's safe to say that since 2011 Harper has lived up to Barlow's depiction of his reputation and attacked what Too Close for Comfort feared he would attack, a sustained omnibus assault on Liberal politics, a blitzkrieg in action, no hesitation, no debate, no consultation, no fear.
But what about Québec? How does Québec fit into this?
Québec isn't necessarily at odds with the rest of the country in its pursuit of social democratic ends, Ontario has the same basic public grid, and British Columbia hasn't elected a right wing government in decades either, analysis of Christy Clark's performance pending.
But it's hard for the Conservatives to win seats in Québec, Québec's presence in Canada necessitates bilingualism and at least biculturalism at the Federal level, Québec often looks to Europe more closely than the United States for inspiration, and I've only met one person in Québec who doesn't refer to Harper with loathing, although my social networks are quite small.
But more importantly, Québec is a have not province and the rest of the country sends billions of dollars in transfer payments to Québec every year, money that would become a loan if Québec in fact separated.
Québec would take its portion of the federal debt with it as well (I'm assuming a debate over the size of that debt would last at least a decade) and then have to replace all of the services currently provided by the Federal government with homegrown Québécois ingenuity, which would cost billions.
Québec would receive much more tax revenue, but would it be enough to even pay the interest on their debt, which is already significant, after their portion of the Canadian debt is added to it, and they suddenly have to replace all of the services currently provided by the Federal government?
Not to mention all the Anglo businesses that will take their billions to Toronto and set up shop.
But the Bloc and PQ do want to separate, and they're banking that they can separate without creating an economic disaster that leaves their country looking more like Honduras than Switzerland.
If the Conservatives encourage this behind the scenes, a secret deal made between the Conservatives and the Bloc and the PQ, they'll be rid of a significant thorn in their side, and without the threat of Québec voting against them every election, it will be much easier for them to win majority governments, assuming they continue to wield influence in Ontario, which will be easier to influence if Québec is out of the picture.
But there's also this.
If Québec does go bankrupt, English Canada, the United States, Britain and France can effectively buy everything in Québec, it would be like a garage sale, they could pick up billion dollar industries for a song and then take all the profits for themselves after their capital restabilizes the region.
Do the Conservatives want Québec to separate from Canada?
I can't answer that for certain, but I'd wager they do.
The Bloc and the Conservatives are certainly using the same strategies to win seats in the current election.
Imagine that, one of the founding fathers of an independent Québec, Stephen Harper?
I'm sure stranger things have happened.
But in the history of Canada, that's a big, unequivocal, nope.
*Also, note how Harper has been applauding how his government has created laws that can strip dual citizens of their Canadian citizenship this week. That's one of the biggest problems with Québec separation. Every citizen within the province will likely be able to apply for dual Canadian citizenship if Québec separates. There's a bit of a pesky kerfuffle.
It's fitting for what I'm about to write, which may sound ludicrous at best.
It's well known that the Bloc Québécois and the Parti Québécois want Québec to separate from Canada and form an independent country, I think it's safe to say this without doubting its truth or disputing its validity.
But is there another political party, one from English Canada, that also wants Québec to separate?
I read Maude Barlow's Too Close for Comfort: Canada's Future within Fortress North America years ago, and at one point within she mentions that Stephen Harper was opposed to multiculturalism, public health, public education, the wheat board, Canada Post, unions, gender equality, multilingualism, anything public, anything communal, any initiative created by and/or for the people, people power, disliked by Stephen Harper, kings and queens, CEOs, loved, cherished, kowtowed to.
Please forgive me if I've left something out of her list or added something that wasn't there previously. I don't have a copy of the book with me to fact check.
I think it's safe to say that since 2011 Harper has lived up to Barlow's depiction of his reputation and attacked what Too Close for Comfort feared he would attack, a sustained omnibus assault on Liberal politics, a blitzkrieg in action, no hesitation, no debate, no consultation, no fear.
But what about Québec? How does Québec fit into this?
Québec isn't necessarily at odds with the rest of the country in its pursuit of social democratic ends, Ontario has the same basic public grid, and British Columbia hasn't elected a right wing government in decades either, analysis of Christy Clark's performance pending.
But it's hard for the Conservatives to win seats in Québec, Québec's presence in Canada necessitates bilingualism and at least biculturalism at the Federal level, Québec often looks to Europe more closely than the United States for inspiration, and I've only met one person in Québec who doesn't refer to Harper with loathing, although my social networks are quite small.
But more importantly, Québec is a have not province and the rest of the country sends billions of dollars in transfer payments to Québec every year, money that would become a loan if Québec in fact separated.
Québec would take its portion of the federal debt with it as well (I'm assuming a debate over the size of that debt would last at least a decade) and then have to replace all of the services currently provided by the Federal government with homegrown Québécois ingenuity, which would cost billions.
Québec would receive much more tax revenue, but would it be enough to even pay the interest on their debt, which is already significant, after their portion of the Canadian debt is added to it, and they suddenly have to replace all of the services currently provided by the Federal government?
Not to mention all the Anglo businesses that will take their billions to Toronto and set up shop.
But the Bloc and PQ do want to separate, and they're banking that they can separate without creating an economic disaster that leaves their country looking more like Honduras than Switzerland.
If the Conservatives encourage this behind the scenes, a secret deal made between the Conservatives and the Bloc and the PQ, they'll be rid of a significant thorn in their side, and without the threat of Québec voting against them every election, it will be much easier for them to win majority governments, assuming they continue to wield influence in Ontario, which will be easier to influence if Québec is out of the picture.
But there's also this.
If Québec does go bankrupt, English Canada, the United States, Britain and France can effectively buy everything in Québec, it would be like a garage sale, they could pick up billion dollar industries for a song and then take all the profits for themselves after their capital restabilizes the region.
Do the Conservatives want Québec to separate from Canada?
I can't answer that for certain, but I'd wager they do.
The Bloc and the Conservatives are certainly using the same strategies to win seats in the current election.
Imagine that, one of the founding fathers of an independent Québec, Stephen Harper?
I'm sure stranger things have happened.
But in the history of Canada, that's a big, unequivocal, nope.
*Also, note how Harper has been applauding how his government has created laws that can strip dual citizens of their Canadian citizenship this week. That's one of the biggest problems with Québec separation. Every citizen within the province will likely be able to apply for dual Canadian citizenship if Québec separates. There's a bit of a pesky kerfuffle.
The Three Faunesses, Auguste Rodin
Interlocked entwined excesses
visions vast supine caresses
bittersweet conductive clues
sprucey bright firelight excused
infuse me with your kindred realms
dominions fantasies the sound
the storytelling rich refined
dynamic politics to shine
the fairest foresight spirited
ethereal like David's grid
their whispers whistling in the wind
hinterlandic cherubim
a churnin'.
visions vast supine caresses
bittersweet conductive clues
sprucey bright firelight excused
infuse me with your kindred realms
dominions fantasies the sound
the storytelling rich refined
dynamic politics to shine
the fairest foresight spirited
ethereal like David's grid
their whispers whistling in the wind
hinterlandic cherubim
a churnin'.
Friday, October 2, 2015
Black Mass
Deadly and daunting, impenitent punishment, organized crime teamed up with the F.B.I., seduce the sociopath and secure the judgment, the incarcerations, the quid pro quo legitimizing his wrath, a potentially greater threat emerging in the flames, consolidating, stifling and murdering away, paranoid, wild and wrenching, James 'Whitey' Bulger (Johnny Depp) and John Connolly (Joel Edgerton), kids from the hood, severe yet sloppy.
Lavish lesions.
Like I, Claudius's Tiberius, when the restraints are removed, Bulger becomes increasingly morose, as Connelly begins to think he's an immaculate golden boy, beyond the reach of bureaucratic suspicions.
Earlier on Bulger's more like a loveable gangster, brutal yet principled, a caring family man.
Depp's performance is brilliant, I don't recall him ever playing a similar character, redefining himself after decades of invention, a salute to dynamic vision, to exotic escapades.
Keeping things local.
Black Mass works, simultaneously building tensions both above and under ground.
Loyalty tragically begets oblivion, living the high life neutralizing survival instincts.
Bulger's insanity malevolently menaces over steaks at Connolly's during one potentially enduring sequence, as he toys with the unsuspecting John Morris (David Harbour), and indirectly acknowledges Marianne Connolly's (Julianne Nicholson) foreshadowed contempt.
Bulger's brother is a senator (Benedict Cumberbatch as Billy Bulger) and the fallout of having a criminal brother is oddly overlooked until the end.
You occasionally see Bulger working or discussing his business but his organization still never seems like it's growing, there aren't any scenes that show him managing a dozen or so people for instance, but we know it has grown because he moves into gambling and buys weapons for the I.R.A.
Perhaps the idea was to make him seem small throughout regardless, thereby formally critiquing his actions.
Life and death, the perseverance of a team, Black Mass celebrates good times while hemorrhaging their foundations, improvised expansions, unsettling impermanency.
Lavish lesions.
Like I, Claudius's Tiberius, when the restraints are removed, Bulger becomes increasingly morose, as Connelly begins to think he's an immaculate golden boy, beyond the reach of bureaucratic suspicions.
Earlier on Bulger's more like a loveable gangster, brutal yet principled, a caring family man.
Depp's performance is brilliant, I don't recall him ever playing a similar character, redefining himself after decades of invention, a salute to dynamic vision, to exotic escapades.
Keeping things local.
Black Mass works, simultaneously building tensions both above and under ground.
Loyalty tragically begets oblivion, living the high life neutralizing survival instincts.
Bulger's insanity malevolently menaces over steaks at Connolly's during one potentially enduring sequence, as he toys with the unsuspecting John Morris (David Harbour), and indirectly acknowledges Marianne Connolly's (Julianne Nicholson) foreshadowed contempt.
Bulger's brother is a senator (Benedict Cumberbatch as Billy Bulger) and the fallout of having a criminal brother is oddly overlooked until the end.
You occasionally see Bulger working or discussing his business but his organization still never seems like it's growing, there aren't any scenes that show him managing a dozen or so people for instance, but we know it has grown because he moves into gambling and buys weapons for the I.R.A.
Perhaps the idea was to make him seem small throughout regardless, thereby formally critiquing his actions.
Life and death, the perseverance of a team, Black Mass celebrates good times while hemorrhaging their foundations, improvised expansions, unsettling impermanency.
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