In good recent tradition, famous books are being milked even further with a movie. If the movie is successful, then a sequel follows, and then a prequel, and before you know it you've got a trilogy, a TV-series and possibly a video-game. Last year I managed to watch Lord of The Rings, an epic saga which span across many months (I'm referring here to the effort it took me to watch the entire movie). I haven't started Harry Potter yet, but in all fairness I watched some bits of the third movie at the cinema several years ago. Well, what I managed to watch was a series of boring interruptions to a productive 3-hours sleep, despite noisy kids and my enthusiastic friends. Well... true friends probably pick better movies and wait for Hermione to be of legal age before dragging you to watch her.
Anyway, this is about a more shady -and recent- book/movie combo. I first heard of "50 Shades of Gray" on Mock the Week. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but sometimes it actually works. There are things you just know are vile, without checking. Sometimes common-sense and (others') experience tell you not to jump in the abyss to check its depth. For instance, the black plague, being bit by a mamba, or Dan
Brown's "books". Also, you don't need to put your tongue on a 9-volt battery to know it's bad. Well, this is not the best example.
Anyway, I'm happy to report I haven't even seen the cover but I'm confident to call it dismal. And given its popularity, a movie was expected.
The movie follows the story of a young and naive student who meets a disturbed and handsome rich man. At first she's wary and hesitating, but strange feelings and unknown emotions are pushing her further. And the closer she gets, the more attracted she is. After a while he starts feeling it too, and a magic bond is getting them closer (in bondage). As things are getting more and more intense, a Colombian cartel kidnaps the rich man and take him hostage. While his parents are negotiating the ransom and the terms for the exchange, the naive student asks her step-mother for help. Her step-mother is a black witch with deep connections in the underground world*. The story escalates in a chase on the open sea in a ravaging storm. The kidnappers' ship is hit by a cannonball and the baddies sink. Unfortunately, the rich man sinks with them. More unfortunately, there are sharks in the water, and they are hungry. Even more unfortunately, it ends tragically in an intense scene where the young man gets rescued by the Coast Guard and two sequels for the movies are announced for 2017 and 2018. They are happily reunited, but trouble will undoubtedly arise as tragic excuses for the sequels and to whet the appetite of the people with lives so hollow that find this exciting. I have not seen the movie, of course, but I am confident it's very bad. The movie is worse than I described it, but without the sharks, the cartel and the sorcery bits. It's cheap and stupid enough to make it palatable to the impressionable people with no taste.
At this pace, bad movies will have more sequels than a porn movie. And the only similarity will be the plot's depth.
*Footnote: Some examples of the underground world include drugs, unappreciated artists, moles, hidden treasures and lava.
27 April, 2015
09 April, 2015
Smoke without fire?
On various occasions rock-n-roll singers have questioned the wild horses' ability to drag them away (and the answers vary, depending on whom you listen to). However, back in the old days horses were used to pull heavy sleighs through thick snow. It's unlikely skinny singers would be too much challenge. However, they could have a hard time pushing them. Unless we're talking about drugs.
But we're not. We're talking about sleighing in the Russian countryside. The grand nobleman is smoking big cigars and enjoying the crisp freezing air while the Baroness snugged in fur seems to not enjoy very much the company of her husband. She's secretly thinking about enjoying the coachman later during the night, when the nobleman is out for a game of cards at the neighboring castle, wasting away her inherited fortune; alas, life is really dull in the countryside during winter. Meanwhile, the coachman is shivering at the front struggling to handle the horses and enjoys neither of his passengers. He doesn't have a warm coat nor a cigar. The only things keeping him from freezing are handling the harnesses and the seldom warm air coming from the horses. He knows he'd have to go out again at night to take the nobleman to his game, when it's even colder. And he knows afterwards he may have to go... inside -again- which on second thought is considerably less bad than the merciless frost.
Even more at the front of the convoy there are the horses for whom the ride is a pointless stroll while carrying along useless weight. They are completely oblivious of the triangle of plots and deceit going through the heads of the people they're carrying. If anything, they're slightly bemused by the peasant trying to tell them where to go; they know the road better anyway. Should they get lost in the wood, they'd be home well before the coachman and passengers froze to death on the road.
They have more important things on their mind. Matvey, the horse on the left, is suspecting that Kostya -the horse on the right- has found its stash of cigarettes hidden in the barn (on the beam above the hay stack) and it's skimming it. It can't put his hoof on it, but last time there were ten cigarettes missing. Horses aren't very good with numbers, though, and it's not polite to make accusations without solid evidence. In the meantime, Kostya is wondering whether Matvey suspects anything. Luckily in winter time you cannot really tell from distance the difference between cigarette smoke or steam you're exhaling in the cold air. But still, it's been six cigarettes in ten days only this week. Horses are not very good with numbers, indeed.
Back in the sleigh, the nobleman's mind is now working frantically. He's suspecting the baroness is having an affair with Egor, the coachman. He's considering coming back earlier from the card game to catch her in the act. But the road is difficult at night, and who's going to drive the sleigh? He cannot keep Egor with him to bring him back, the whole plan would fall apart. And even if he makes it home on his own, and he does catch her, then what? Scandal, gossip, humiliation. And ruin. Everything is hers: the money, the land, the castle and the land (Nadzieja, the baroness, has land in two places). He'd lose everything. A thick puff of smoke from his expensive cigar brings him back from his thoughts. He wouldn't even afford the expensive cigars he enjoys so much.
Nadzieja, near him, can't stand them. They are one pestering vice in the long list of vices her husband is a slave to. All day long they make her cough, and smell badly. On the other hand, she has vices that smell badly, too. Egor, for instance.
And all this time Egor, the centerpiece of all this drama, is blissfully oblivious to everything around him. His only qualm is the cold. And still, it's not that bad. It will be even colder at night on the way to the nobleman's card game. But it will be nice and warm when he gets back. Ah, if he could only get a cigarette. Would there be any left on the beam above the hay stack in the barn?
This twisted yarn would quickly unravel if they all knew what Fedor knew. Fedor is a little white horse. It's not here now. It's at the castle, waiting in the stable for Matvey and Kostya to return. The day is long without them. One day when it was alone, Fedor borrowed a GoPro Hero camera from a rabbit from another dream. While playing in the forest behind the castle, the camera caught Nadzieja and Egor together. The video is blurry and shaky, as horses' hooves are not naturally developed for handling action cameras. But Nadzieja and Egor were shaky, too, and there is enough evidence on the camera. Fedor hid it in the manger, which seems to be a better choice than the beam above the hay stack in the barn. Someday, it may use it. Maybe when it runs out of cigarettes.
Matvey, Kostya and even little Fedor would have no problem dragging Mick Jagger or Garth Brooks.
But we're not. We're talking about sleighing in the Russian countryside. The grand nobleman is smoking big cigars and enjoying the crisp freezing air while the Baroness snugged in fur seems to not enjoy very much the company of her husband. She's secretly thinking about enjoying the coachman later during the night, when the nobleman is out for a game of cards at the neighboring castle, wasting away her inherited fortune; alas, life is really dull in the countryside during winter. Meanwhile, the coachman is shivering at the front struggling to handle the horses and enjoys neither of his passengers. He doesn't have a warm coat nor a cigar. The only things keeping him from freezing are handling the harnesses and the seldom warm air coming from the horses. He knows he'd have to go out again at night to take the nobleman to his game, when it's even colder. And he knows afterwards he may have to go... inside -again- which on second thought is considerably less bad than the merciless frost.
Even more at the front of the convoy there are the horses for whom the ride is a pointless stroll while carrying along useless weight. They are completely oblivious of the triangle of plots and deceit going through the heads of the people they're carrying. If anything, they're slightly bemused by the peasant trying to tell them where to go; they know the road better anyway. Should they get lost in the wood, they'd be home well before the coachman and passengers froze to death on the road.
They have more important things on their mind. Matvey, the horse on the left, is suspecting that Kostya -the horse on the right- has found its stash of cigarettes hidden in the barn (on the beam above the hay stack) and it's skimming it. It can't put his hoof on it, but last time there were ten cigarettes missing. Horses aren't very good with numbers, though, and it's not polite to make accusations without solid evidence. In the meantime, Kostya is wondering whether Matvey suspects anything. Luckily in winter time you cannot really tell from distance the difference between cigarette smoke or steam you're exhaling in the cold air. But still, it's been six cigarettes in ten days only this week. Horses are not very good with numbers, indeed.
Back in the sleigh, the nobleman's mind is now working frantically. He's suspecting the baroness is having an affair with Egor, the coachman. He's considering coming back earlier from the card game to catch her in the act. But the road is difficult at night, and who's going to drive the sleigh? He cannot keep Egor with him to bring him back, the whole plan would fall apart. And even if he makes it home on his own, and he does catch her, then what? Scandal, gossip, humiliation. And ruin. Everything is hers: the money, the land, the castle and the land (Nadzieja, the baroness, has land in two places). He'd lose everything. A thick puff of smoke from his expensive cigar brings him back from his thoughts. He wouldn't even afford the expensive cigars he enjoys so much.
Nadzieja, near him, can't stand them. They are one pestering vice in the long list of vices her husband is a slave to. All day long they make her cough, and smell badly. On the other hand, she has vices that smell badly, too. Egor, for instance.
And all this time Egor, the centerpiece of all this drama, is blissfully oblivious to everything around him. His only qualm is the cold. And still, it's not that bad. It will be even colder at night on the way to the nobleman's card game. But it will be nice and warm when he gets back. Ah, if he could only get a cigarette. Would there be any left on the beam above the hay stack in the barn?
This twisted yarn would quickly unravel if they all knew what Fedor knew. Fedor is a little white horse. It's not here now. It's at the castle, waiting in the stable for Matvey and Kostya to return. The day is long without them. One day when it was alone, Fedor borrowed a GoPro Hero camera from a rabbit from another dream. While playing in the forest behind the castle, the camera caught Nadzieja and Egor together. The video is blurry and shaky, as horses' hooves are not naturally developed for handling action cameras. But Nadzieja and Egor were shaky, too, and there is enough evidence on the camera. Fedor hid it in the manger, which seems to be a better choice than the beam above the hay stack in the barn. Someday, it may use it. Maybe when it runs out of cigarettes.
Matvey, Kostya and even little Fedor would have no problem dragging Mick Jagger or Garth Brooks.
04 April, 2015
Are you allowed to use Ebola to win at Scrabble?
There are jobs where thinking outside the box is really important. For instance, being a delivery guy, operating a forklift or digging graves. Some people in PR and advertising like to think of themselves they're outside-the-box-thinking professionals, too. Thanks to them we get ads for detergents that are not like other detergents, just like every other insurance and razor. And coughing pills which go directly to the pain following a map well traced on the human body.
A while ago I got a cold. Just like tasks at work, I didn't mind it, waiting for it to go away by itself after a while. But just like some tasks at work, some won't have the decency to vanish if you ignore them for long enough. Coughing didn't really bother me, but it didn't let me sleep at night (and at the office) and comfort is something I do care about. After three days I made some tea, but it didn't help much. It was time for action. Luckily, I happened to find some coughing pills in the fridge door, so no time for action yet. The pills had been sitting there for about seven or eight years, most likely someone I shared the place with back then had bought them just in case. Now it was the case.
[...]
An irritated woman standing near me in the pharmacy started bitching that she didn't want to get sick from me as I was buying anti-coughing pills. So I did the honorable thing and turned to talk to her and calm her down. Somehow it didn't seem to help, she started yelling even louder her she didn't like a sick person near her. There's no pleasing some people. In the end I told her I didn't particularly like her tone and idiotic complaints either. Surprisingly, that did shut her up. I left with the pills, pleasantly surprised of my skills at interacting with other women. On the way out I asked if they had any syrup for Ebola. Ebola is quite catchy, like an annoying song. Truth be told, that woman was quite catchy, too. Catchy like an annoying song. Good manners cost nothing. And not wasting them on adequate occasions is rather rewarding.
In the end the disease went away. I am dead now. It would have been convenient if hell had existed, it's supposed to be hot in there. This could help when you've got a cold. The last thing you'd want to get is a cloud in heaven. It's drafty and there's no proper thermal insulation. Not even walls. And the music as bad as in elevators.
I still have some pills left, if anyone's interested. Hurry up, though, they'll be useless in less than 8 years. Well, they're pretty useless now, too. But they're sweet and can be a decent replacement for mints if you forgot yours at home. Fresh breath is important. Which is why picking the right tooth paste is so crucial, if you believe thoseprofessional people in the advertising industry (sorry about the coughing, but the pills were not as effective as the ad said they would be). Which closes the narrative circle. Good night.
[...]
Actually, not yet, there's a tangent to the circle. There are also some eggs that have been sharing the fridge door space with the previous cough pills for about one year. I am not sure about the expiration date, it has worn off. I tried a couple of them, and they seemed to be ok. I still have 8 or 9 more. They're ideal to take on a trip to hell; plenty of places to fry them there. Or I could use them in a gift basket, with the new coughing pills and a barely opened bottle of hot sauce and 2 unopened bottles, one with vanilla extract the other with ginger extract. Is your birthday coming soon?
A while ago I got a cold. Just like tasks at work, I didn't mind it, waiting for it to go away by itself after a while. But just like some tasks at work, some won't have the decency to vanish if you ignore them for long enough. Coughing didn't really bother me, but it didn't let me sleep at night (and at the office) and comfort is something I do care about. After three days I made some tea, but it didn't help much. It was time for action. Luckily, I happened to find some coughing pills in the fridge door, so no time for action yet. The pills had been sitting there for about seven or eight years, most likely someone I shared the place with back then had bought them just in case. Now it was the case.
[...]
An irritated woman standing near me in the pharmacy started bitching that she didn't want to get sick from me as I was buying anti-coughing pills. So I did the honorable thing and turned to talk to her and calm her down. Somehow it didn't seem to help, she started yelling even louder her she didn't like a sick person near her. There's no pleasing some people. In the end I told her I didn't particularly like her tone and idiotic complaints either. Surprisingly, that did shut her up. I left with the pills, pleasantly surprised of my skills at interacting with other women. On the way out I asked if they had any syrup for Ebola. Ebola is quite catchy, like an annoying song. Truth be told, that woman was quite catchy, too. Catchy like an annoying song. Good manners cost nothing. And not wasting them on adequate occasions is rather rewarding.
In the end the disease went away. I am dead now. It would have been convenient if hell had existed, it's supposed to be hot in there. This could help when you've got a cold. The last thing you'd want to get is a cloud in heaven. It's drafty and there's no proper thermal insulation. Not even walls. And the music as bad as in elevators.
I still have some pills left, if anyone's interested. Hurry up, though, they'll be useless in less than 8 years. Well, they're pretty useless now, too. But they're sweet and can be a decent replacement for mints if you forgot yours at home. Fresh breath is important. Which is why picking the right tooth paste is so crucial, if you believe those
[...]
Actually, not yet, there's a tangent to the circle. There are also some eggs that have been sharing the fridge door space with the previous cough pills for about one year. I am not sure about the expiration date, it has worn off. I tried a couple of them, and they seemed to be ok. I still have 8 or 9 more. They're ideal to take on a trip to hell; plenty of places to fry them there. Or I could use them in a gift basket, with the new coughing pills and a barely opened bottle of hot sauce and 2 unopened bottles, one with vanilla extract the other with ginger extract. Is your birthday coming soon?
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