I have never added bling to my cell phone or bejeweled an old jacket. I have never sat in school and doodled flowers on my notebook. It's just not me and I have always thought of it as something 14 year old girls do while watching Hannah Montannah or listening to Jonas Brothers songs. It is unnecessary and childish and superfluous. Then I found cursermania.com
It speaks to my nerdly girly soul. The part of me that loves lipstick, high heels, and high speed downloads to my PDA. No discernible bling. No stick em on glittery shit that others can see. No, an intensely personal, for my eyes only blue swimming fish instead of a cursor. He frolics on my page all happy and bug eyed as I use him to choose what font I want or click on an url. He is my bling. I can also change him into a power tool or some other frivolous cursor avatar when I get bored of him and need change to brighten my mood.
They have quite a selection of images to choose from. Cursermania.com has more than enough choices for the average ass-hat (Mistress Rage's brilliant word), nerd, bible thumper, patriot, dog lover, cat lover, 14 year old girl/boy, and anyone else. Almost anyone else. I have noticed a dearth of anything BDSM or PG-13 for that matter. I was looking for a high heel shoe or a flogger but eh, can't have everything.
But this brings me to my next issue. Toolbars. I have 5 now after adding Cursermania which added it's own toolbar. I am glad that it didn't mess up my other toolbars or replace any of them or make things incompatible. However I have 5 fucking toolbars and with every toolbar added, I have less and less screen. I am looking at a solid 3inches of toolbar. This is not including 6 tabs I have open. I have a firefox, Yahoo, Google, Stumble, and Cursermania toolbars piled on one another like an orgy.
Is mine bigger than yours? Do I have Freudian penis issues that I am not aware of manifesting itself in the form of Internet stuff? Am I the only one? After a few more toolbar additions (I am eyeballing d.e.l.i.c.i.o.u.s) will I have any screen space left or will I be working on a two inch sliver and in need of an intervention? Beats me.
However I am totally digging cursermania.com and my blue fish. Speaking of Digg, does that have a toolbar?
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Repo! The Genetic Opera
How good is good? Well, Paris Hilton gave a fabulous performance. I said it. That is not a misprint, I'm not sucking on a huge blunt, nor was I given a lobotomy. I watched a useless celebutant whose usual talents include talking on cell phones and saying things like "that's hot" actually give a sparkling performance.
Any movie, let alone a musical/opera that can get the best out of Paris Hilton is set to establish itself as a remarkable piece of film.
But I am getting ahead of myself.
Repo is set in a bleak future where a pandemic outbreak of organ failure has gripped the populace. To the rescue is biotech company Geneco. They provide transplants (along with other elective surgeries) to anyone who is willing to sign on the dotted line. Of course there are strings attached, but what else could one expect from an evil corporation. If the person defaults on the loan, the Repo man repossess the organ.
The casting is as odd as it is brilliant. They have taken actors from different genres like Sarah Brightman from the musical theater camp, to campy with Paris Hilton, television cult following with both Anthony Head and Paul Sorvino, kid films with Alexa Vega, hard core music Nivek Ogre from Skinny Puppy, and horror/sci films with Bill Moseley. Despite the morbid curiosity factor of the cast, they all work brilliantly together and make a weird kind of sense.
Perhaps most startling aspect of this cast and the part that is most enjoyable is everyone here can sing and sing well. Except for Sarah Brightman and Ogre, we do not think of these actors as singers but if we look closely it's not actually surprising. Paris had the spunky Stars are Blind, Alexa Vega belted out a tune at the end of Spy Kids (3 I think), lets not forget the musical episode of Buffy.
Speaking of Buffy, I would be remiss if I did not mention the title character of Repo Man.
The Repo man played with aplomb by Anthony Head (Giles from Buffy the vampire slayer) is a Jekyll and Hyde character that vacillates from loving but misguided single dad to a Repo Man. His voice soars and wavers as Dad Nathan and growl es and rumbles in an effective baritone as sadistic and gleeful Repo Man.
Why not have such an odd cast in this odd opera? The whole damn thing is a celluloid freak show which includes intro and character back stories told like in a comic book. The costumes smack of BDSM and fetish and it's all filmed in an unsettling neo-noir dirtiness akin to Bladerunner. Yet in the contrast of the creepy darkness, the characters have an ethereal glow. The entire story is sung like in an opera with no actual dialogue but traditional opera or theater music is missing. In it's place is a throbbing and sinister sound more like Nine Inch Nails or Type O Negative with 1 punk and 1 real opera number tossed in for good measure. The sound track could easily fit in at a Goth night club, a strip club, or an orgy but it's also extremely sing along able.
Those who dislike musical theater will love Repo since it lacks pretension or that contrived feeling that goes along with jazz hands, choruses, and choreography. Instead it has a horror scifi heart and an even darker sense of humour. One of the funniest moments is when the Repo Man uses a victim like a puppet. It's blood, guts, and gore with a tongue firmly placed in cheek.
Yet, those of us who love musical theater will also love Repo because despite its anti-theater aspects it actually knows its stuff and it should as it was based upon a stage play (just like Rocky Horror Picture Show). It has stage cred. Case in point, it uses dissonance to jangle the nerves and rile the ears in many of its songs like Zydrate Anatomy. Also the introduction of the Largo siblings and their unique relationship with each other is done in a very traditional musical theater kind of duel in Mark It Up. The audience knows exactly who these characters are without too much extranious exposition. Best of and most theater-ey of all is the character of Grave Robber. He IS the MC. Just like the Ben Vereen Character in Pippin who helps to fill in the details and move the story along. Except Grave Robber is a Goth chick's wet dream and I am positive every dark theater geek, goth kid, and boy that is looking for a sexy male costume for next Halloween will be dressing like Grave Robber. At least now the Crow costume can R.I.P.
I should note that the character of the Grave Robber played by Terrance Zdunich who is also a composer, writer, actor, artist (illustrator, storyboard artist) and get this, wrote this awesome beast. He's also a baritone no less.
Despite the futuristic setting of Repo! The Genetic Opera is merely a wink away from our current global corporatocracy situation. It's not really such a far leap. We have a melting global economy, a melting and toxic planet, and a plutocracy all tightly corseted into hyper vanity. This movie could not have come out at a better time. We needed this. We needed something new, dark, reflective, unique, and telling. Most of all, we need the celluloid equivalent of Zydrate to take the pain of real everyday horrors we are facing right now. This brilliant confection may have not gotten the props it deserves from the daily rags but many cult classics like Bladerunner and Rocky Horror were sniffed at by critics. All one has to do is look at the sold out shows and its rabid fans to see the magic. Everybody everybody get up and testify!
Any movie, let alone a musical/opera that can get the best out of Paris Hilton is set to establish itself as a remarkable piece of film.
But I am getting ahead of myself.
Repo is set in a bleak future where a pandemic outbreak of organ failure has gripped the populace. To the rescue is biotech company Geneco. They provide transplants (along with other elective surgeries) to anyone who is willing to sign on the dotted line. Of course there are strings attached, but what else could one expect from an evil corporation. If the person defaults on the loan, the Repo man repossess the organ.
The casting is as odd as it is brilliant. They have taken actors from different genres like Sarah Brightman from the musical theater camp, to campy with Paris Hilton, television cult following with both Anthony Head and Paul Sorvino, kid films with Alexa Vega, hard core music Nivek Ogre from Skinny Puppy, and horror/sci films with Bill Moseley. Despite the morbid curiosity factor of the cast, they all work brilliantly together and make a weird kind of sense.
Perhaps most startling aspect of this cast and the part that is most enjoyable is everyone here can sing and sing well. Except for Sarah Brightman and Ogre, we do not think of these actors as singers but if we look closely it's not actually surprising. Paris had the spunky Stars are Blind, Alexa Vega belted out a tune at the end of Spy Kids (3 I think), lets not forget the musical episode of Buffy.
Speaking of Buffy, I would be remiss if I did not mention the title character of Repo Man.
The Repo man played with aplomb by Anthony Head (Giles from Buffy the vampire slayer) is a Jekyll and Hyde character that vacillates from loving but misguided single dad to a Repo Man. His voice soars and wavers as Dad Nathan and growl es and rumbles in an effective baritone as sadistic and gleeful Repo Man.
Why not have such an odd cast in this odd opera? The whole damn thing is a celluloid freak show which includes intro and character back stories told like in a comic book. The costumes smack of BDSM and fetish and it's all filmed in an unsettling neo-noir dirtiness akin to Bladerunner. Yet in the contrast of the creepy darkness, the characters have an ethereal glow. The entire story is sung like in an opera with no actual dialogue but traditional opera or theater music is missing. In it's place is a throbbing and sinister sound more like Nine Inch Nails or Type O Negative with 1 punk and 1 real opera number tossed in for good measure. The sound track could easily fit in at a Goth night club, a strip club, or an orgy but it's also extremely sing along able.
Those who dislike musical theater will love Repo since it lacks pretension or that contrived feeling that goes along with jazz hands, choruses, and choreography. Instead it has a horror scifi heart and an even darker sense of humour. One of the funniest moments is when the Repo Man uses a victim like a puppet. It's blood, guts, and gore with a tongue firmly placed in cheek.
Yet, those of us who love musical theater will also love Repo because despite its anti-theater aspects it actually knows its stuff and it should as it was based upon a stage play (just like Rocky Horror Picture Show). It has stage cred. Case in point, it uses dissonance to jangle the nerves and rile the ears in many of its songs like Zydrate Anatomy. Also the introduction of the Largo siblings and their unique relationship with each other is done in a very traditional musical theater kind of duel in Mark It Up. The audience knows exactly who these characters are without too much extranious exposition. Best of and most theater-ey of all is the character of Grave Robber. He IS the MC. Just like the Ben Vereen Character in Pippin who helps to fill in the details and move the story along. Except Grave Robber is a Goth chick's wet dream and I am positive every dark theater geek, goth kid, and boy that is looking for a sexy male costume for next Halloween will be dressing like Grave Robber. At least now the Crow costume can R.I.P.
I should note that the character of the Grave Robber played by Terrance Zdunich who is also a composer, writer, actor, artist (illustrator, storyboard artist) and get this, wrote this awesome beast. He's also a baritone no less.
Despite the futuristic setting of Repo! The Genetic Opera is merely a wink away from our current global corporatocracy situation. It's not really such a far leap. We have a melting global economy, a melting and toxic planet, and a plutocracy all tightly corseted into hyper vanity. This movie could not have come out at a better time. We needed this. We needed something new, dark, reflective, unique, and telling. Most of all, we need the celluloid equivalent of Zydrate to take the pain of real everyday horrors we are facing right now. This brilliant confection may have not gotten the props it deserves from the daily rags but many cult classics like Bladerunner and Rocky Horror were sniffed at by critics. All one has to do is look at the sold out shows and its rabid fans to see the magic. Everybody everybody get up and testify!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Stalking a Click A Way
I am now on Twitter. Yay. I am now in touch with the unwashed masses, washed masses, metrosexuals, losers, winners, and basically anyone with interweb or a cellphone attached to them 24/7. Since I myself have the attention span of a gnat with ADHD because of all the texts, calls, emails, and 24 hr news (I mainline MSNBC) I seem to be unable to finish a thought or blog for that matter. Hey just take a look at my blogs here. There was a 6 month lapse. Why? The election. I have orders for jewelry and floggers. Because I've been wrestling with wonky editing programs. Because I have too much shit on my plate and not enough time. Because I am stuck on the R train between stations.
So I signed on to twitter with the hope that I can spare 5 seconds and microblog.
Now I find my new problem. I forget. I actually have been forgetting to be a twit or tweet or chirp or whatever the fuck they call it. o along with no attention span I also have no memory and will have to add a reminder on my PDA. The irony.
On the upside, now all those who would like to stalk me can do so from the comfort of their laptop. Stalkers can save that metrocard swipe or tank of gas and just stay home instead of lurking outside my apartment building. With any luck, friends and like minded people can feel a bit closer with twitter. If not I am still happy with the idea that uh, what was I saying? I wonder what I should make for dinner?
So I signed on to twitter with the hope that I can spare 5 seconds and microblog.
Now I find my new problem. I forget. I actually have been forgetting to be a twit or tweet or chirp or whatever the fuck they call it. o along with no attention span I also have no memory and will have to add a reminder on my PDA. The irony.
On the upside, now all those who would like to stalk me can do so from the comfort of their laptop. Stalkers can save that metrocard swipe or tank of gas and just stay home instead of lurking outside my apartment building. With any luck, friends and like minded people can feel a bit closer with twitter. If not I am still happy with the idea that uh, what was I saying? I wonder what I should make for dinner?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Spectacular Spectacles
I have awful vision. How bad you ask collectively? So bad that I can date Quasimodo's ugly brother. Coke bottles. Need a seeing eye dog. You get the point. I'm in luck though. I have a glasses fetish and find them quite a turn on. I think a neat pair make a person better looking. I prefer Clark Kent to Superman, Tina fey wets the panties, Keith Oberman makes me go schwing!, and Pailin, well I will admit she's hot despite her redneck white trashy-ness but only until she speaks.
I totally dig glasses and rarely wear contacts as I feel just a little less hot without the spectacles. So as my fortune goes, my 750 USD specs broke right down the bridge. Shit. Can't fix that not to mention that those glasses were the most expensive thing I owned. The frames were Betsey Johnson and the lenses that also need to be thinned and coated are 300. 750 total. Double shit.
I ended up wearing contacts until I could save up for another pair.
Two bonths I have been wearing these ocular torture devices devised by Bauch and Lomb. I blink, and they pop out. They would fall behind my eyeball. They itch. They hurt and give me headaches. Worse yet, if I don't tweeze my brows it's REALLY noticible.
I started trolling the net looking for a more affordable alternative. After checking out site after site that offer complete glasses but the frames were lame or rather pricey and then then I found a blogg that mentioned goggles4u.com and the clouds opened up and angels sang.
Amazing seclection of frames, free s&h, free coatings, and thinning for next to nothing. This was heaven and after I ordered my pair, the entire cost came to 37 USD. Let me repeat that. $37!!!! They came in 2 weeks and and were/are absolutely perfect.
So all of us blind folk should be a little happier that there are options and we are no longer have to promise our 1st born just to pay for something as basic as sight. This is not luxury. This is necessity. So goggles4u.com you have my loyalty and my fetish. I shall spread the gospel to my myopic brethren.
I totally dig glasses and rarely wear contacts as I feel just a little less hot without the spectacles. So as my fortune goes, my 750 USD specs broke right down the bridge. Shit. Can't fix that not to mention that those glasses were the most expensive thing I owned. The frames were Betsey Johnson and the lenses that also need to be thinned and coated are 300. 750 total. Double shit.
I ended up wearing contacts until I could save up for another pair.
Two bonths I have been wearing these ocular torture devices devised by Bauch and Lomb. I blink, and they pop out. They would fall behind my eyeball. They itch. They hurt and give me headaches. Worse yet, if I don't tweeze my brows it's REALLY noticible.
I started trolling the net looking for a more affordable alternative. After checking out site after site that offer complete glasses but the frames were lame or rather pricey and then then I found a blogg that mentioned goggles4u.com and the clouds opened up and angels sang.
Amazing seclection of frames, free s&h, free coatings, and thinning for next to nothing. This was heaven and after I ordered my pair, the entire cost came to 37 USD. Let me repeat that. $37!!!! They came in 2 weeks and and were/are absolutely perfect.
So all of us blind folk should be a little happier that there are options and we are no longer have to promise our 1st born just to pay for something as basic as sight. This is not luxury. This is necessity. So goggles4u.com you have my loyalty and my fetish. I shall spread the gospel to my myopic brethren.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Drats! Foiled at Chiller
I do so love conventions of the horror/sci-fi/comic kind. When my schedule permits, I will gather friends and accomplices to join me in my nerdly pursuits. This past Saturday (5/3/08) Chiller was on my calendar. Oh what fun Dominar Stark, Master Virage and I would have. It would also allow me to catch up with my buddy, indie horror film maker SV Bell (and person I lent my voice talents to for his film Rise of the Ghosts).
The gang and I donned our more tame fetish attire and met up for breakfast at the best Jersey diner/pancake house The Brownstone. We needed pancakes! Like usual, the pancakes were fucking fabulous & the perpetual cups of black gold kept me spry. After we polished off the meal and we were thoroughly caffinated, we piled into Master Virage's car and headed off to beautiful Parsippany NJ. The leisurely ride soon turned into a frenzied dash for the hotel. The coffee hit and it hit our collective bladders hard. But we got to the hotel quickly with no leaks or wet spots and our sighs of relief gave way to gasps of horror. The lot was full. I mean really really full. Not a good sign. We ended up parking far far away and on the other side of the hotel.
We hobbled as quickly as we could into the back entrance (lest one of us pop) and into the nearest rest rooms. One male. One female and 1 patron at a time. Lucky us, no tp. None. Neither the men's nor woman's had tp, just cheap abrasive feels like tree bark paper towels. Apparently I was luckier than Dominar Stark. His latrine had a shit monument in the corner. Someone was non too happy with the lack of tp, used the paper towels instead and then piled the shitiful towels in the corner. This begged the question Was this shittter human or hamster (hamsters and the like pile feces in a corner to keep it away from other things)? These were all terrible signs. Horrid bathrooms and lousy parking all point in one direction, an overly crowded Chiller. By the time we found the entrance/ticket area to Chiller, there was a line out the door and around. So our choices were 1.stand all day on line or 2.leave and go see Iron Man.
Look for my up coming review of Iron Man.
The gang and I donned our more tame fetish attire and met up for breakfast at the best Jersey diner/pancake house The Brownstone. We needed pancakes! Like usual, the pancakes were fucking fabulous & the perpetual cups of black gold kept me spry. After we polished off the meal and we were thoroughly caffinated, we piled into Master Virage's car and headed off to beautiful Parsippany NJ. The leisurely ride soon turned into a frenzied dash for the hotel. The coffee hit and it hit our collective bladders hard. But we got to the hotel quickly with no leaks or wet spots and our sighs of relief gave way to gasps of horror. The lot was full. I mean really really full. Not a good sign. We ended up parking far far away and on the other side of the hotel.
We hobbled as quickly as we could into the back entrance (lest one of us pop) and into the nearest rest rooms. One male. One female and 1 patron at a time. Lucky us, no tp. None. Neither the men's nor woman's had tp, just cheap abrasive feels like tree bark paper towels. Apparently I was luckier than Dominar Stark. His latrine had a shit monument in the corner. Someone was non too happy with the lack of tp, used the paper towels instead and then piled the shitiful towels in the corner. This begged the question Was this shittter human or hamster (hamsters and the like pile feces in a corner to keep it away from other things)? These were all terrible signs. Horrid bathrooms and lousy parking all point in one direction, an overly crowded Chiller. By the time we found the entrance/ticket area to Chiller, there was a line out the door and around. So our choices were 1.stand all day on line or 2.leave and go see Iron Man.
Look for my up coming review of Iron Man.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Harold & Kumar
Last weekend I grabbed a bunch of friends and made haste to my local theatre in Bayridge. My Goddess I was frothing at the bit to see the sequel to Harold and Kumar go to White Castle as it is one of my fave comedies and quotable films. The characters of Harold and Kumar are reminiscent of the traditional comedy duos of straight man and comedic foil. Though Harold and Kumar have a 420 bent, they are less like Cheech and Chong and more like Abbot and Costello. Who's on first base anyone?
With a sequel there is always one of three possibilities. 1. film can be as good as the original (Austin Powers 2). 2. film can be better than original (Prophecy 2 & 3). 3. or a film sequel can be so bad we pretend only the first one exists and we disown and disavow all that came after (Matrix 2&3, Highlander 2,3,etc).
So where does Harold and Kumar Escape from Gitmo land? Let's see.
This incarnation of the super comedic duo finds them starting where they left off in the first one, on their way to Amsterdam. Gosh I like it when a film doesn't forget that the audience still remembers what happened in the first one no matter how much 420 was smoked. So far so good. The characters true to themselves quickly get into hijinx as soon as they get to the airport and all their good plans go out to pasture. Many new characters get introduced (including the current prez with much comedic aplomb) but old characters are not forgotten. Lots of references from the duos last journey are called back and so are old characters. In fact, we even get Neil Patrick Harris back with more screen time and every frame fucking funny.
The writers never pull punches. Of course there is the pro-marijuana agenda that is always a consistent theme as well as the anti redneck/racist/hater/thought zombie . Hell, they even make a political statement swathed in hilarity (how else could they possibly tackle the current regime). Totally sweet.
The cast is superb and on pointe. From the main characters to bit players, each line is delivered with care for maximum funny. The joy these actors take in delivering their lines is obvious so there are no throwaways or phoned in performances. The reactions and silences are just as witty and well delivered as the lines themselves.
In the end, both Harold and Kumar get the girl, get the weed, get to share a fat spliff with Dubya, make racists, government toads look like the duchebags they are and even get the vacation in Amsterdam. Happy ending. What's not to love? So I have no choice to rate this at least as good as the original. When is comes out on DVD I will own this badboy. Hell I'll even pay for it.
With a sequel there is always one of three possibilities. 1. film can be as good as the original (Austin Powers 2). 2. film can be better than original (Prophecy 2 & 3). 3. or a film sequel can be so bad we pretend only the first one exists and we disown and disavow all that came after (Matrix 2&3, Highlander 2,3,etc).
So where does Harold and Kumar Escape from Gitmo land? Let's see.
This incarnation of the super comedic duo finds them starting where they left off in the first one, on their way to Amsterdam. Gosh I like it when a film doesn't forget that the audience still remembers what happened in the first one no matter how much 420 was smoked. So far so good. The characters true to themselves quickly get into hijinx as soon as they get to the airport and all their good plans go out to pasture. Many new characters get introduced (including the current prez with much comedic aplomb) but old characters are not forgotten. Lots of references from the duos last journey are called back and so are old characters. In fact, we even get Neil Patrick Harris back with more screen time and every frame fucking funny.
The writers never pull punches. Of course there is the pro-marijuana agenda that is always a consistent theme as well as the anti redneck/racist/hater/thought zombie . Hell, they even make a political statement swathed in hilarity (how else could they possibly tackle the current regime). Totally sweet.
The cast is superb and on pointe. From the main characters to bit players, each line is delivered with care for maximum funny. The joy these actors take in delivering their lines is obvious so there are no throwaways or phoned in performances. The reactions and silences are just as witty and well delivered as the lines themselves.
In the end, both Harold and Kumar get the girl, get the weed, get to share a fat spliff with Dubya, make racists, government toads look like the duchebags they are and even get the vacation in Amsterdam. Happy ending. What's not to love? So I have no choice to rate this at least as good as the original. When is comes out on DVD I will own this badboy. Hell I'll even pay for it.
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