Since I bothered to take the effort to write it, I suppose I’ll post the theme to The Learning Corner, unaccompanied by a talking bird.
I was going for that whole ’80s NOVA education-y vibe.
MUUUUSIIIIC.
Bene scribete.
Since I bothered to take the effort to write it, I suppose I’ll post the theme to The Learning Corner, unaccompanied by a talking bird.
I was going for that whole ’80s NOVA education-y vibe.
MUUUUSIIIIC.
Bene scribete.
My brother is a silly person. Perhaps we are related.
Dealing with vine videos on a computer is awkward.
Bene scribete.
*or maybe he doesn’t.
I don’t know. What?
Hope everyone is having a great Valentine’s day! Or is otherwise getting some some nice new furniture. (>^-‘)>
Bene scribete.
My favorite local bagelry went under and got bought out by Blue Sky a few months back. Sad times for the local place, which was really good, but Blue Sky is pretty good too.
This sign they have up, however – at least how I choose to read it – may be a trifle psychotic.
It’s the dramatic pause that the space indicates, only to be followed up by redundancy and questionable grammar. Good stuff.
Yeah.
Bene scribete.
Good afternoon, those who may or may not be reading this in the afternoon.
Time for another “story” blast-written in ten minutes without forethought, I suppose.
And I call myself a writographer. Or, wait, no I don’t.
“Sir?” came Featherby’s voice from another room.
Dincton Flatt ignored him, absently clicking through tabs on his browser. The immaculately dressed Mr. Cheverly had posted a photograph of his newest suit on Facebook. It was perfect. Flatt glowered.
“Sir?” Featherby called again.
Flatt sighed. “What is it, Featherby?” He looked over his shoulder, and saw his robot coyote trot into the room.
“I think you ought to see this, sir,” the coyote answered.
“Not now, Featherby, I’m quite in the middle of something.”
“Sir, even if I believed that, I would still feel pressed to tell you that there is a goat on your lawn.”
“A goat, Featherby?”
“Yes, sir, a goat.”
“Heavens, that shouldn’t be.” Flatt pulled up an MSPaint process he always had open, filled in all black so he could look at his reflection on the computer monitor. He was handsome as you please and blond as anything, just as he intended. He smiled dashingly at himself and minimized the window, then stood and crossed his arms. “Very well, then, show this goat to me.”
Featherby led him out to his front yard, where a goat indeed stood munching on the grass.
“You. Goat,” Flatt warned. “You mustn’t be here. Not in the slightest. This is simply not the place for goats.”
The goat looked up, staring blankly, then goatnoised.
“Hmm. Quite rude. What should we do, Featherby?”
“Perhaps we should call the goat store, sir. Maybe it escaped and only needs to be returned.”
“No, Featherby, I do not think such a place exists.” Flatt twisted up his mouth in consideration. “Although, that might not be a bad thing to have around here. Perhaps we should start one.” Flatt approached the goat carefully. “Well, there, fellow – how would you like to be the first in a line of magnificent goats – Flatt’s Goats? We could sell your ilk all over Danesbury, perhaps as a complimentary add-on to our properties.”
The goat goatnoised.
Flatt frowned.
“Sir,” Featherby cautioned, “I do not mean to rain on your parade, but it might be said that this idea is not a good one. The real-estate business is enough to manage on its own without adding livestock to your inventory.”
Flatt shook his head. “You may be right, Featherby, but people do like goats, do they not? And Cheverly does not have goats.” Flatt eyed the robot. “Does he?”
Featherby tilted his head. “I don’t believe so, sir.”
“There. You see?” Flatt turned to grab the goat, but the goat backed away, causing Flatt to overreach and fall on his face. “Mmph.”
“Sir, this is the second time you’ve fallen down this week. People may start saying things.”
Flatt rolled over onto his back and stared up into the afternoon sky. “I didn’t plan on any goats, now, did I?.” He looked around, but now could not see the creature. “Where did it go?”
“I am not certain, Sir. Perhaps it was never here at all.”
Flatt sighed extensively. “Oh, Featherby, why did I build you?”
“For good times, sir.”
Bene scribete.
I came across this sign posted near the employee break room at a Lowe’s in Meridian, and found it too delightfully absurd not to capture.
I guess they’re trying to make some sort of statement about…workplace precautionary responsibilities…? I don’t even know, but it comes off as a hilarious micro-encapsulation – a reductio ad absurdum – of the whole security vs. freedom polarity.
But you’re right, Lowe’s – it’s hard to be in any less danger than in a state of utter existential stagnation. (>^-‘)>
Bene scribete.
I’m not really a huge comic book person, but I have thus far enjoyed what Marvel Studios has done with its cinematic franchise, committing to a combined setting that links all the films together and gives them a larger feel than they would otherwise have alone. That said, although the tenth entry is the least connected to that shared universe yet, I think Guardians of the Galaxy is the first to live up to that sense of wit and charm set by the studio’s stellar initial outing of Iron Man.
It’s not perfect, and it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, and I don’t know that I can quantify precisely why I enjoyed it so much, but it’s just so delightful that you may as well call it a big, tasty – kind of sweet, kind of nutty – candy bar in movie form.
You’ve got the rich, chocolate coating of some fantastic visuals and CGI. Take a break from the dark and dour – this is comic-book colorful at its finest. Atop that, there’s a sprinkle of mixed nuts in the form of a catchy 1970s soundtrack. Not exactly what you’d expect with science fiction, but the songs are well-chosen, have a story-relevant presence, and add to the quirky vibe of the film. “Come and Get Your Love” is one of those songs that periodically seems to pop into my head at random, so there was a strange sort of pleasure in hearing it kick off the title sequence. And “Hooked on a Feeling” has been stuck in my head all week – thanks, Marvel.
Next, we have a layer of sea-salted caramel that provides the standout flavor of off-kilter fun and humor throughout. It’s a nice, consistent layer – this is a fabulously mirthful movie. The characters are all memorable and entertaining, pulling off a constant stream of smiles and a good spread of bust-out laughs from start to finish, which is a handy feat to accomplish (again, I’d say the original Iron Man is the only other Marvel flick to succeed there).
Then, at the center of our confection, we have a curious core of treacle named Rocket – an unconventional secret ingredient that complements the rest better than one might expect and really makes the whole thing pop. I guess there are two reactions you could have to the notion of a talking raccoon bounty hunter in a live-action space romp: you can throw up your hands and say “O.K., this is a bit too ridiculous,” or you can sit back, buy into the craziness, and marvel (…yeah, I said it) at just how realized the scene-stealing little furball is. Rocket could have easily been a one-note gimmick, and in the hands of most writer/directors probably would have been, but James Gunn (who admits to a little favoritism) instead gives this computer-animated unhuman character fully-fledged protagonist status, the like of which has only really been done (at least effectively) in District 9 and Rise of the Planet of the Apes – but unlike Christopher Johnson (and Guardians co-star Groot), Rocket has to avoid an uncanny valley in resembling an actual animal, and unlike Caesar (and Guardians co-star Groot), he has to speak a whole lot more than a three-word sentence containing his name. But chocolate and treacle can mix pretty well, as it turns out, and the CGI is at its most impressive with this raccoon; he’s wonderfully expressive, and the film isn’t shy about showing him off and getting up close, even giving him half of the movie’s more emotional moments and nearly as much screen time as lead real-world-occupying-object Chris Pratt. This scruffy, snarly, smartass little critter isn’t relegated to the role of cutesy sidekick, but is all the more adorable for it.
Of course, as with any big-name sweets there are chemical preservatives and empty calories to consider, like aliens that make Star Trek races look imaginative and a central conflict that can be politely described as stock. Compelling antagonists have never been a strong suit of Marvel films, though (perhaps with the exception of Loki, but only in the first Thor), and to be fair, the primary arc was really more about this group of characters coming to terms with each other than it was them actually guarding the galaxy. Lee Pace, at least, deserves credit for the effort he put into what little he was given to work with as bad guy Ronan, his excellent delivery providing his uninspired dialogue with more weight than it deserved. And I did appreciate the self-awareness of Quill’s quip that the MacGuffin had a “Maltese Falcon sort of vibe.” (>^-‘)>
Finally, we mustn’t forget the nougat – that mystery substance that holds everything together. Call it a Disney touch, comic book excitement, or Star Wars magic – hard to say exactly what this special stuff is, but I suppose you don’t need to know to enjoy it.
So, yes, Guardians of the Galaxy is a fresh, unique, satisfying cinematic candy bar. It makes me happy, and though it may not be the most nutritional thing ever, damnit if I don’t want another bite.
Bene Scribete.