Raza Syed lives in Los Angeles.
According to the Game of Thrones Wiki, The Hound’s given name is Sandor Clegane, which is High Valyrian for “Ellen Cleghorne.”
Don Cheadle does everything Robert Downey Jr. does in Iron Man 3, except backwards and in high heels.
According to Wikipedia, one side effect of prolonged Ambien use is thinking Bronson Pinchot played Data on Star Trek: The Next Generation.
I have a queasy feeling that the Baileys Irish Cream commercials on Hulu are just the B-roll from a Maybelline Liquid Foundation commercial.
Things that should never be green: snot, martinis, text messages.
Every time the eagle tore a Little Caesars Hot-N-Ready pizza out of Prometheus’ belly, another Hot-N-Ready pizza grew terribly in its place.
Regrettably, Oz the Great and Powerful isn’t a documentary about Frank Oz’s efforts to wrangle Marlon Brando during the making of The Score.
Debating the comparative merits of smartphones and Google Glasses is like debating the comparative merits of onanism and voyeurism.
I’ve always maintained that if Tom Cruise can scale a goddamn cliff in M:I-2, he can climb atop a woman occasionally with equivalent effort.
In an ideal “Girl Meets World,” Cory and Topanga would grow up into Albert Brooks and Jennifer Coolidge; Mr. Feeny would be a 1982 Trans Am.
John Goodman has made an enjoyable career out of being a live-action version of Foghorn Leghorn from the old Warner Brothers cartoons.
I would find the Hunger Games more interesting if the objective was to capture and eat the Pillsbury Doughboy.
The Nokia Lumia is Noomi Rapace’s go-to phone. She uses it to call her good friend Imogen Poots tout le temps. Espoo is a city in Finland.
My iPad, iPhone and eyebrows are all the same color again.
E. L. James has Christian Grey; Stephenie Meyer has Edward Cullen; Peggy Noonan has Ronald Reagan.
While we buzzed about Cloud Atlas’ thisface and thatface racebending, Looper quietly gussied up a sitcom alien to look like Bruce Willis.
According to IMDb, Powers Boothe has two brothers. Their names are Attorneys General and Notaries Public.
A more polite way to say “no” to drugs is “My serotonin levels are good, thank you.”
We’re seeing who can name the most Bond girls. So far we’ve each come up with “Beverly Falafel.”
Autumn in Los Angeles, with its NuEngland pumpkin patches and detergent-flake shopping mall snowfall, is the seasonal equivalent of Tofurky.
- C: Gwyneth Paltrow and Kate Moss aren’t getting along.
- R: Did they both reach for the same cigarette or something?
‘photos every day’
this is a spot by tbwa/chiat/day for apple, called ‘photos every day’. the craft is fantastic, and there’s some subtle, unusual attention to detail in it.
let’s take a look at the sound mix. here’s a waveform of the spot:
and now here’s the waveform of a conventionally mixed spot — this is that ‘old spice’ commercial everyone flipped out for a couple years ago. it might as well be any ad you see on tv today.
huge difference. there’s incredible restraint in the amount of compression applied to the music in ‘photos every day’. (from wikipedia, compression “reduces the volume of loud sounds or amplifies quiet sounds by narrowing or “compressing” an audio signal’s dynamic range”.) my point here is that if you caught this on tv, it would be substantially ‘quieter’ sounding than other ads around it.
the other interesting thing about the mix is that the iPhone shutter click sound is substantially undermixed. it comes across as incidental, and unobtrusive. the ambiences are the real star here, and the sound editor wasn’t even afraid to drop them out entirely for effect (see snowy skyscraper, 0:23).
• there’s a real nice match-cut at 0:06 of the guy jumping off his skateboard into the shot of the jogger running.
• 0:25, the iPhone bobs up and down at a concert, and halfway through, the shot itself starts bobbing with the phone, keeping the screen stationary in the frame.
• overall, there’s a very careful variety of perspective, scale, and involvement. are we peering over someone’s shoulder? watching from across the street? ostensibly taking the picture, ourselves?
• i could have done without the voiceover at the end.
The aforementioned spot moved me considerably when it first aired three weeks ago and I re-watched it several times in order to get it out of my system.
I consider its skillful quietude a spiritual successor to the “Move” spot Wieden+Kennedy did for Nike in 2002 (and to a lesser extent the “Belief” spot Goodby, Silverstein & Partners did for eBay in 2004).
Once you start thinking the third dude from the right in this cast photo from Lars von Trier’s Nymphomaniac is Turtle from Entourage, it’s hard to think anything else.
C____ and I have this running joke about how, whenever I recount a scene from a television show or a movie, I inadvertently embellish it and make it more elaborate.
Like, there’s this Golden Girls episode where Blanche is dating a verbally abusive guy. Eventually (time index 20:08, above), Dorothy corners the dude and gives him a piece of her
dick mind. Enraged, he grabs Dorothy’s arm, causing her to cry out in pain just as Blanche enters the room and tells him to get the fuck out.
We used to joke that in my version, Blanche would be holding a shotgun like in some old Barbara Stanwyck movie. Later, we decided it would be funnier if she showed up wearing the Caterpillar Power Loader suit from Aliens.
Jokes have a way of becoming embellished and more elaborate over time too.
Remember when Spielberg produced the Flintstones movie back in the nineties and was listed in the credits as “Steven Spielrock”? Assuming Robopocalypse isn’t completely dead in the water, I hope he produces it under the nom de guerre “Steven Spielbot.”
Ruh-oh: Showgirls is on HBO GO.
It’s interesting how memory works. I was looking something up on IMDb and I came across this old poster for the movie Havoc, and my immediate thought was:
Huh, didn’t that Oliver Stone movie from last year have almost the exact same poster? What was that movie called? Babylon? No, that’s not right. Savages. Where did the word Babylon come from?
It turns out Babel also had a very similar poster.
Just kidding, it didn’t actually say that.
A lot of my conversations about television-watching are couched in deliberately vague language to obscure the fact that I stream everything to my Roku box via Amazon-Netflix-Hulu like some survivalist weirdo.
I’ve never said “fuck you” or “go fuck yourself” to anyone in my life. It’s not my steez. I have, however, said “be well” on a couple of occasions when I really meant “fuck you” and “go fuck yourself.”
(And while we’re on the subject: “Take it easy” is pretty much the worst thing one human being can say to another.)
In terms of face-replacement voodoo, Framestore’s mute, ageless, undead Audrey Hepburn in this Galaxy chocolate commercial is closer in its verisimilitude to Eric Barba’s revelatory work in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button than it is to, say … Eric Barba’s (curiously inferior, ghoulish) work in TRON: Legacy. It probably helps that Hepburn’s proportions are beguilingly anime to begin with.
It almost doesn’t matter to me if it’s in poor taste. It’s the future. There’s more where this came from. (Driverless cars, people wearing cameras on their faces. NBD. We’ll figure it all out.)
I am, however, reminded of a passage from William Gibson’s Neuromancer, set in a “puppet parlor,” or brothel:
“The girl sat up in bed and said something in German. Her eyes were soft and unblinking. Automatic pilot. A neural cutout.”
Oh, and here’s a lame quote from Hepburn’s sons, via a press release:
“Our mother often spoke about her love of chocolate and how it lifted her spirit so we’re sure she would have been proud of her role as the face of Galaxy.”
There ought to be a word, if there isn’t already in Portuguese or Japanese or Viennese, for the unbearable lightness of watching someone strenuously attempt to befriend one of your friends solely and conspicuously via social media; for that particular orgy of at-signs, superfluous photo-comments and automatic reblogs.
(Maybe the word for it is bruxism.)
Originally, Gene Roddenberry conceived Betazoid females as having four breasts. He was persuaded not to use this idea by writer D.C. Fontana.
That Gene Roddenberry was one horny guy.
Without warning, a bubble of true vacuum could nucleate somewhere in the universe and move outwards at the speed of light, and before we realized what swept by us our protons would decay away.
- R1: Who do I call about renting a food truck for a party?
- R2: I think you dial 911 and it just shows up.
Iced Goldfrapp, cyborg whale song, deliquescent glamour.0 plays
Fuck, this is a catchy song. It’s like Miike Snow and ELO had a baby.0 plays
How has Peter Gabriel’s cover of Arcade Fire’s “My Body Is a Cage” not been splattered all over a Nike commercial? It’s phenomenal.330 plays
“Child Psychology,” Black Box Recorder. I love the shifts in this song, Sarah Nixey’s posh vocals dripping Depakote and cigarette smoke, lulling the desultory lyrics along—reminding me, in a way, of the shot in Fight Club where Jeff Cronenweth’s camera pushes in on Helena Bonham Carter at the tuberculosis support group.206 plays
“Counting Back To 1,” Beautiful Small Machines.244 plays
“Please Don’t Touch,” Polly Scattergood. Straight-up solid pop.132 plays
“Canis Lupus,” composed by Alexandre Desplat for the motion picture Fantastic Mr. Fox.181 plays
“Tickle My Spine,” Looker. I can’t speak to the pedigree of this track—I first heard it in an Ecko Red commercial featuring Vanessa Hudgens (albeit not featuring her music—ooh, dis). It kind of sounds like what you’d get if there was an apocalypse and only the tween progeny of the hundred or so surviving members of Save Ferris were left to repopulate the world’s music reserves. This is a shampoo-your-hair, sing-into-a-hairbrush (while Dave Meyers shoots you on his cameraphone) Saturday morning affair, presented without irony. It’s sunny and infectious. It’s yeasty.130 plays
“Too Fake,” Hockey.60 plays
“Honey Tree,” The Mostar Diving Club.102 plays
I never realized this before, although I should have, but the flippant, infectious musical cue Gossip Girl occasionally employs when a character drops a bombshell (OMG Serena killed someone!) or does an about-face (Georgina decides she’s over being born-again) is sampled from The Kills’ “U.R.A. Fever.”360 plays
There are people who happen to like us even though they don't seem like they ought to like us, whose friendships offer windows on lives lived differently, on other ways to be in the world.
Happiness that demands an audience isn't happiness—it's performance.
It is often said that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. It is less often observed, but equally true, that a lot of knowledge is an opportunity to be generous.
Apology and forgiveness aren't weakness. Anger is weakness.
There's the mean way and there's the intelligent way. The mean way is often also the lazy way and the intelligent way the humane way.
With some people you're just yourself. And with some people you're the best version of yourself.
Status is illness and illness is stillness.
People who constantly remind you who they are and what they do for a living are trying to sell you something.
Some days the light of the sun hits you in an unexpected way, finds you in a place you didn't think it could reach; and just like that all the doors, all the windows are open, have always been open, were never not open.
The problem with holding a grudge is that it turns your body into a sarcophagus.
If one is to enjoy the privilege of making fun of something, one must also bear the responsibility of having empathy for the thing that is being made fun of.
William Gibson once described cyberspace as a "consensual hallucination" but social networking is more like a consensual manic episode.
Forgive mistakes. Embrace that love is clumsy. Communicate without condescension. Let people go. Let people return.
It's not really romantic until it's doomed.
There's a difference between loving w-o-r-d-s and loving language.