Adam: i think all of our problems would be solved if they changed the “i” to “nice”
Adam: “Nice raq”
Adam: and then import swedish bikini models
Adam: of course, that’s my answer to everything
Adam: flat tire? import the swedish bikini team
Kevin: well sure, us westerners would be into that
Kevin: but what would the nice raqis think?
Adam: they’d probably think “wow, nice rack”
More often these days, when I listen to mainstream rap, I wish for the chance to confront some of those so-called rap superstars and ask them, “don’t you ever get tired of running your mouth when you have absolutely nothing to say?”
I have a problem with that Cottonelle toilet paper commercial. It’s like 30 seconds of a bunch of people, young and old, shaking their asses at the camera. It’s just so wrong.
We all have our antisocial phases. I’ve been in a foul mood for well over a week now. I’ve pretty much wanted to stay in bed all this time and hang a “go screw yourself” sign on my bedroom door. Incidentally, I got a new cell phone this weekend…you know, so I can keep in touch with all those people that I’ve been alienating.
It’s so hard concentrating on the words. Every time I sit down to study, I keep hearing Ms. Othmar, Linus’ teacher, droning on with that muted trombone voice of hers. “Mwa mwa-mwa mwa mwa-mwa…“
My antisocial tendencies are getting worse. Just today, I met up with a former classmate who wanted to return a book that I loaned her last quarter. I’ve always thought this girl was super cute, and I think she’s been aware of that. For today, we agreed to meet at the Mission Bakery Cafe on campus. I got there first, so I chose a table and started to free-write in my journal. I was in an introspective kind of mood. When she came, I stopped writing, but my mind was still spinning in a haze of words and abstract ideas. We spoke for a while as I placed the book into my grossly overstuffed backpack, and all the while, I got the feeling she wanted to spend a few minutes to talk and catch up. For some reason, though, I felt more awkward around her than I normally did, and all I wanted to do was just walk away and be alone with my thoughts. Once I ran out of things to say, she read my body language and waved goodbye. The moment I turned to leave, I realized that I was making a big mistake. But my pride wouldn’t allow me to turn around and reverse it. Real smooth, Kev. So much for seizing the day.
A few months ago I was watching Dan Rather interview some US official about Osama bin Laden. At one point during the interview, Rather asked, “And if we were to capture Mr. bin Laden, how would we try him?” At that point, it took all my strength not to pull out a revolver and shoot out the television screen (Bond villain style). Mr. bin Laden? What the hell did that guy do to warrant being referred to as a mister?
Just yesterday, the same kind of thing happened again. I was reading an article about the Washington DC snipers. In the article, the reporter referred to John Lee Malvo, the seventeen-year-old suspect, as “Mr. Malvo.” First of all, this Malvo kid is seventeen years old. His age doesn’t command that kind of respect to begin with. Besides that, let’s keep in mind that this kid sniped civilians for sport. Once somebody commits a murder, nobody will hold it against you if you don’t make an effort to kiss the culprit’s ass. When was the last time you heard somebody say “Mr. Hitler?” The last time anybody said that was probably in the mid-1940’s–and I’ll wager that person was speaking German.
I wonder if this whole “Mr.” business is only exclusive to the American style of journalism. Maybe some UK reporters do the same thing. All I know is, it’s silly. It just serves as another example of how political correctness has gotten terribly out of hand. Even when there’s nobody to offend except for the offenders, people in the American media are still too scared to show their disapproval. Well screw that. I’m going to go out on a limb and say Mr. bin Laden, Mr. Malvo, and Mr. John Allen Muhammad are all naughty men, and they need a time out. Harsh words, I know. But somebody had to say it.
As impressed as I am with the quality of animation in films, television shows, and video games these days, I do have a minor objection. I think the animators and art directors are trying way too hard to make the images as “realistic” as possible. By that, I don’t mean to say that the Final Fantasy movie pissed me off because Aki Ross’s hair was so complex and lifelike. That was cool. What I am objecting to is the animators’ insistence on including an artificial lens flare when the camera angle calls for a direct view into a sunset.
I hate that lens flare. It’s been included in numerous cinematic cut scenes in video games (Grand Theft Auto III, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City and Metal Gear Solid 2, just to name a few), and of course, in animated films and television shows (The Lion King, Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, and Beast Wars: Transformers). Now, I think I understand the rationale for adding that lens flare. The creative art directors eagerly want to show off their careful attention to detail, so they try to make it appear as though the fabricated images on the screen were actually captured by real-life cameras. I remember the first time I saw the lens flare in a real-life motion picture. It was during a Crocodile Dundee movie. I was so confused by the little shiny circles at the bottom of the screen, that I thought about them for the rest of the movie. Mind you, I didn’t miss too much in my daydreaming haze…it was only Crocodile Dundee, after all. But my point is, the lens flare is both a limitation of filming technology as well as it is a distraction to audiences.
So why bother including the lens flare in works of animation? Whenever I see it in a cartoon or a video game, I’m not impressed–I’m distracted. I look to the bottom of the screen, marveling at the futility of including the little circles while I should be caught up in the moment, becoming enchanted with the intricate scenery and getting lost in the fictional world that’s being laid before me. Arguably, the best kind of storytelling allows an audience a chance to escape reality, which is why works of animation are so special. They allow the impossible to happen, because they aren’t true reflections of reality. In that Muppet Babies show, do you remember baby Kermit ever having to rely on little black wires and a puppeteer to move his arms around? In those animated Peanuts specials, can you recall a time when Snoopy (who, after all, is only a dog) ever had hard time balancing on his hind legs? Whenever Rocky J. Squirrel took flight, did you ever see a support wire attached to his waist? The answer to all of those questions, of course, is no. Animation allows its individual characters and its fictional worlds to defy the limitations of reality. Animators should keep that in mind. When you create a reality in which anything is possible, do yourself a favor and allow your mind to roam freely. There’s no point in fantasizing if you can’t learn to make the most of it.
Few things make you feel more like an oaf than bandaging your finger and then scraping your knuckle while putting away the pack of Band-Aids, requiring you to bandage another finger.
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