Money money money, must be funny, in a time-traveling world full of brown powder

I'd keep apologizing for all those days I don't post, but a) I hate all of those series of youtube vlogs that always begin with "Hey guys [for whatever reason, they ALWAYS start with this exact wording. No joke. I dare you to find me exceptions. I double-dog-dare you!], sorry I haven't posted in a while, I've just been really busy with __________ [insert bullshit uninteresting excuse you don't care about that probably involves schoolwork, their cat having worms or "just having a lot of stuff going on"]". Also, b) you don't care, and probably are not following this religiously anyway.

At any rate, I totally had time to blog yesterday, but was too excited about seeing The Wolverine (surprisingly good, if not memorable! Actually filming it in Japan was a plus. Check 'er out, bub!), and Mamma Mia! in the park. I was singing basically all day. Before and after the movie. Yeah.

So, for those of you who, arbitrarily, actually are horrifically offended that I didn't post yesterday, I have TWO facts! Yes, I have a fact from yesterday AND a fact for today! Yay, blog karma! Or something. I don't care.

So here goes!

#19: Working with paper money can grind off your fingerprints! [thanks to Megan for that one]

And...

#20: This beauty, from Bill Bryson's majestic book The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid (one of Kristy's favourite books - she recommended it to me as early as the beginning of this blog, and I only got around to starting it yesterday, in the midst of trying to simultaneously read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and World War Z - superb thus far though; chock full of Bryson wittiness):

In 1951, "police seized a youth on suspicion of possessing narcotics when he was found with some peculiar brown powder, but he was released when it was shown that it was a new product called instant coffee."

Basically.

So there you go! And now, just for funsies, this slice of awesomeness...

Sometimes movies are awesome. As is time-traveling in movies, making this possible. As is James McAvoy's shirt. As is the fact that Ian McKellen joked about marrying Michael Fassbender, his 'younger self'. Theses could be written about the hilarious mind-fuck-iness of that. 

Bai! 

Phone a friend? Phone a bear. Ironically, of course.

So, I'm getting terribly worried that my relationship with the song "Can't Stop Partying" by Weezer (feat. Lil' Wayne... oh gaaaaaawd) has transitioned from ironic to genuine. According to this article, it's not really ironic, and I should stop fooling myself. Perhaps. Is enjoying the purposeful stupidity and condescending sarcasm that I firmly believe the band intended ironic, or straightforwardly enjoying THEM being ironic?

Who cares. Regardless, I can't stop listening, listening, so I figure Weezer wins, no matter what the mentality behind the consumption. Clever buggers.

Anyhoo. Today contained both the awesomeness of viewing Stanley Kubrick's Paths of Glory with Kelly for the first time, and some Cinephile frustrations and eventual (small) victories. So, overall, I have basically everything figured out, right?

Yeah, I thought so too.

Anyway! Look! A fact!

#18: Bell Canada recently tried to raise the cost of using a payphone to $1 per call.

Thankfully, this boneheaded (what a great adjective! I decided earlier this week I would do my best to work it into conversation as often as possible! So far, so good!) motion was denied by the CRTC. The hilarious part? Bell argued that increasing the cost of payphones would help stop payphones from losing money, therefore... allowing payphones to be able to stay in business. Yeah. That's real sensitive to the low income families that wouldn't be able to afford cell phones and would have to use payphones.

Sigh.

Anyway! Do you know what time it is?

It's HERZOG TIME!!!

As in, the time that the girl and I watch Grizzly Man, and revisit the hilarity/squirminess/irritation of Timothy Treadwell, Mr. Chocolate, and all of his furry friends. Maybe some of them will even be as polite as this:

Look at how GIFted you are with this post! 

OOOOOHHHHHH SNAAAAPPPPP!!!

I kill me. 

Actually, more like you, dear reader, will kill me after my excruciating puns. 

In the meantime, I'ma watch me some Werner. G'night! 

Slurpin' Sauciness

So.

Yeah.

Fireworks? Super fun. Drinks afterwards? Very fun. Mixing chugged cider, swigged white wine and gin? Not so fun.

I'm heading out to fly my Darth Vader glider (the aforementioned 'surprise') with the lady, so today's entry will be brief. That said, I still found a fact! My mind is ever so slightly more informed!

#17: The saucer on which a cup of coffee is served used to be used for drinking.

Observe!

Not sure if that's properly visible. If not, check it out here. Also, check out this woman's page anyway - it is consistently delightful and full of lots of fun coffee-related facts like this! 

GLIDER SUN FUN TIMES NOW! Ta ta! 

BRRRAAAAIIIIIIIII........BAAAAAAAAANNNKKKKSSSSS

Well well. What a start to a day (does one still consider it a start to a day at 4:44 pm? I do feel like my day's just starting... yeesh summer). From discussing child molesters with Jenna, fielding disappointing Cinephile emails, buying groceries, and reading about violence, I'm surprised I've stayed in such a cheerful mood. Must have been some kind of 'happy-hangover' from yesterday. Those exist, right? Well, if not, I'm coining the term. In the name of New France. As I always say, greeted by many blank looks. I amuse me.

Also, for those who have yet to read it, the novel World War Z, which I had repeatedly recommended to me by Grant and Kristy - both of whom were very right to do so - is friggin' awesome. Don't make the mistake of associating the Brad Pitt film with it though. I haven't seen the movie yet, though I probably will someday, but, based on what I've heard, I'm going to take The Oatmeal's word for it:

Being in the midst of reading the book right now, this is really a bummer, because I can all too easily imagine how fucking awesome a direct translation of the book could be. Brooks' prose is so lively and nimble you could basically transcribe the book into a screenplay verbatim as is. Oh Hollywood...

But look! Thematic unity and everything! Because, lo and behold, here comes my fact of the day:

#16: "Zombie banks" exist.

Yup.

Not as in banks that are entirely staffed by, and/or for, zombies. Although that would be hilarious. "Brain banks" could totally be the new "blood banks".

Not speaking of which, did anyone else ever see the movie Daybreakers, with Ethan Hawke, Sam Neill and Willem Dafoe? It was kind of daft but fun, but did have some clever, World War Z style considerations of the socio-political ramifications of a mass outbreak of vampirism, including more literal "blood banks". Good stuff. Intelligence and creativity make me smile.

Back to zombie banks.

In fact, to quote the page from my "Zombie Day Calendar" (thanks Mom) from which I got this fact:

"A financial institution that has a negative net worth but stays in business because the government subsidizes its credit is called a 'zombie bank'. Coined in 1987, the term was created to metaphorically illustrate the perils of keeping insolvent savings and loans companies afloat. The term resurfaced in 1993 to describe the Japanese financial crisis, and again in 2008, when the United States government saw fit to rescue many floundering financial organizations with an enormous bailout package. Similar are more general corporations propped up by the government called 'zombie companies', especially those bailed out by the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP) in the United States."

Cool, no? While this kind of thing is far from a surprise given all of the recession/post-recession terribleness going on (still), and the aftershocks of the whole "Occupy" movement, I do like the correlation of the word 'zombie' and governmental influence. DUN DUN DUUUUUUNNN.

That's all for now, tigers and tigresses! Festival of Lights fireworks competition tonight should be a bag 'o fun! Until then, stay tuned!

Craaaaaaab if you want her, she won't be coming doooooown

Today is basically the best day I've had in ages.

 First off: an impromptu trip to Toys 'R Us (always a guilty pleasure of mine), which yielded many secrets. I'd be more specific, but one is a surprise for the lady, which has yet to be revealed. Teehee. 

Then, Denny's lunch with the ever-awesome Madison and Becky. I was initially skeptical about going back to Denny's, but a) I was too hungry at that point to object to anything, and b) I discovered a meal that involved blueberry pancakes, strawberries, cream cheese-whipped cream icing, bacon, and hashbrowns. I dare you to invent a meal that I'd enjoy more.

 Then, a delightful afternoon at the beach with Becky, Megan, and Ally. Even the friggin' ocean was warmer, and made for a stupendous swim. Finally, to cap it off (before bloggin' it up, at any rate): watching Tommy. Yes, the rock opera by The Who. On VHS. Now I can dream of the voice of Roger Daltry, Elton John wearing giant glasses and boots, and Jack Nicholson.

You make my dreeeeaaams come true.

Did I mention all of this happened while I was wearing a Street Sharks shirt?

Yeah. Basically the best day ever.

I even got a particularly sweet fact of the day!

#15: CRABS. HAVE. TAILS.

Yes they do. I too was incredulous. But lookee! Lookee!

But why, you exclaim, have I never seen a crab with a tail?

Good question, young grasshopper. I asked myself the same question. Actually, I asked it, loudly, over my exquisite lunch at Denny's. Thankfully, Madison the Beach Hero (actually her official work title), who supplied me with this fact, was able to use her beach heroics to answer me. 

See, crabs normally have their tails folded up under them, flat on their bellies. Their differently shaped tails also help determine what sex the crab is. 

Male

Female

As you've doubtlessly noticed, because you're all immature buffoons like me, the male crab's pattern looks a lot like a dick. And even the female's, with its vaguely rounded shape, looks not entirely unlike a vagina (maybe try looking at it out of the corner of your eye. Still no? Maybe I'm stretching, but I could see it. Also, lawl. Stretching). Crab's bellies echoing human sex organs? Supacool. 

Now the girl is coming over and everything, to complete the package of unexpectedly best day in ages. So, in conclusion, since I haven't plugged Weezer in DAYS, and it actually ties in, listen to Weezer also sing about crabs, and have yerselves a swell evening! 

Spotting stalling

So... I basically fail. Don't even have Whistler as an excuse this time. Or Weezer. Although now I wish I saw Weezer in Whistler. It'd be a wackily wild, winsome, and even whimsical weekend with wanton wanders and whelks whisked wearily from waters washing wistfully.

Pulled that one out of my hat just now. Thank you. Thank you. I'll be here all week. Just not writing each day of the week, apparently. Ah well. I lasted a good week longer than I expected to, so that's cause for a mite less self-deprecation. Maybe.

Anyhoo (I think this is my first time ever using that word. Do I get an outdated slang medal now?)!

Today, I hiked up to Garibaldi lake. It was marvelous. I came to the stupendous conclusion that the best way to refresh yourself in a mountaintop lake, shy of swimming in it and freezing your arse off, is to dunk your head in the water and keep your torso dry. As I learned from Liam Neeson in Batman Begins:



One of many arbitrary movie life-lessons that I quote to others incessantly.

Seriously though. The head-dunk looked ridiculous but felt awesome. After a gruelling 4.5 hour hike consistently uphill? Basically like God in a bottle.

Then I came home, had a lifesaving shower, and read this. Pretty nifty, and certainly not restricted to gifted children. Still a cool issue to draw attention to.

I wish either of those could count as a fact of the day, but, sadly, according to my own arbitrary rules, neither quite qualifies. This is a bummer, as, at this point in the post, I haven't actually come across a fact of the day yet.  So. Talk amongst yourselves. And enjoy this:

 
The other night, Kristy was unfathomably awesome enough to (re)watch the shit-show that is Spider-Man 3 with me. FOR RESEARCH! I swear. Anyway - her moment of the night was quipping, in response to being informed of the movie's $250 million budget (yes, a country could have been saved from starvation on what they spent on this atrocity): "I bet most of it went to Tobey Maguire's dance lessons".

Well played, girl.

There's also a bit in SM3's infamous "emo phase" that I had forgotten (or blocked out, perhaps), where 'Evil Peter' takes Gwen Stacy on a date to the jazz club where Mary-Jane, who has just forcibly dumped him (long story), is working. Since Sam Raimi is a crackpot who has apparently decided that Peter turning 'evil' means a sudden obsession with weird beatnik slang and actions (and, yes, unforgivable '70s dancing), there is a section in this sequence where Peter accompanies/interrupts MJ's song with a jazz piano solo, then whispers into the mike (in a horrifying extreme close-up), "Now dig on this". He then dives into a strange, spider-powers-augmented dance number, during which he stomps on tables, drinks a martini and chucks the glass. What movie is this directly, and likely unintentionally, ripping off?

Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. Yes, the "yazz flute" scene. AKA one of the most hilarious moments in one of the best comedies of all time. And by most hilarious moments, I mean a moment. Because all moments in Anchorman are hilarious.

The one I quote the most these days? A little throwaway Steve Carrell moment where Brick drinks coffee, and, in perfect deadpan, responds to an unrelated statement with, "Mmm. I just burnt my tongue."

Still stalling, yes.

BRB while I go find a fact.

*Elevator music*

Ooh! I found a fact! It's a film-y fact and everything! Look at me being all appropriate and junk!

#14: A crucial early stage in the process of film composition is called "music spotting".

Basically, it involves reviewing edited scenes with the composer and trying to figure out how the music fits in with the scene. Or, in the words of Peter Jackson, whose facebook page I learned this information from:

"'Spotting' involves talking through edited scenes with Howard [Shore], and figuring out everything he needs to do a first pass at the music composition - where music should start and stop, what mood it should have, themes to use, moments to punctuate. That type of thing. To stay on schedule, Howard needs 10 mins of cut footage every week." 

So that's cool. A bit elementary, yes, but a bit more of a specific insight into the actual production process of implementing film composition into the editing process. Or at least a key term I was unfamiliar with. Because, y'know, those of us in Film Studies never actually get to learn anything about Film Production, except on our own free time. But that's a rant for another day. 

So there we go! A blog post! Yay! 

I'll now leave you, as I go finally allow myself to pass out, post-hike. Goodnight sweet prince. 

[I've been very exposed to Shakespeare lately - first Joss Whedon's magnificent and champagne-like Much Ado About Nothing - or, as I coined it, "Josspeare" - then seeing Hamlet at Bard on the Beach with Becky - more alliteration! Yay! 
Seriously though. Another spectacular production. Using the drum solo from The Beatles' "The End", one of my top five songs, as transition music approaching the climax of the show gave me tingles of creative joy]

And, for requisite comedic grace note: 

Who am I? Not Spider-Man. Or an orthorexic. Clearly.

So. Yes. Hi. I exist. I had contemplated trying to keep this going on a daily basis during my trip to Whistler with the lady, and then I thought, "Who am I kidding? Who am I to try to write this silliness in the midst of vacation mode? Matter of fact, who am I?"

No no no, shut up Tobey Maguire.

 (Not) speaking of Spider-Man, I also found this, which amused me:

Okay, but for realsies. Whistler boasted many fun moments. A baby dressed in a hippo onesie and a small, curious puppy on side-by-side paddleboards was a highlight. Obnoxiously taking pictures of a bored dog during an outdoor symphony concert was another. Mostly dogs and children, I guess. God, I hope that doesn't mean my proverbial biological clock is ticking. Fuhhh.

 In fun Comic Con news, ALL KINDS OF THINGS HAPPENED in the realm (lawl Thor) of Superhero movies. Best for me (apart from Tom Hiddleston's hosting, which was truly magnificent - "my wife loves you!"): Avengers 2: Age of Ultron! (and Kevin promptly squeals the loudest he has since Thanos). "But how are they going to bring in Ant-Man, to properly do the Pym storyline justice?!?!?!!" every Marvel nerd across the planet wails (coughALANTUDYKPLEASEcough). "Wait for Joss", say the powers-that-be. Grrr.

On to the realm (bwahahahaokayseriously) of real things, here's a fact o' the day I learned ages ago, but am, again, carrying forward due to laziness and interest.

#13: In addition to more documented physical/mental conditions like anorexia, there is also a condition called 'Orthorexia", which basically pertains to an obsession with eating healthily.

Sounds okay, right? Well, it would be, but, apparently, in many cases, said orthorexics can be so obsessed with the food they eat being healthy or 'pure' that it can be detrimental - in certain less intense cases, manifesting in ways like being unable to join friends for dinner at an 'unhealthy restaurant', or having anxiety about doing so, or, in more extreme cases, malnutrition or death.

Which, morose as that might sound, also made me think of Eddie Izzard's "Cake or death?" bit that was over-quoted to death in high school. And that made me smile. So there.

Speaking of me not being an orthorexic, I'm still kind of hungry, even though I had lunch(ish), so I'll probably amble off to eat something heinously unhealthy. In the meantime, my revelation of the day (not to be mistaken for fact of the day) is that the reason I enjoyed the music in Pacific Rim so much (probably more than the rest of the film, which I felt kind of bemused and confused towards... my review is here for all who are silly enough to be interested) is that it was done by Ramin Djawadi, the composer of Iron Man (which is basically my favourite film score ever) and Game of Thrones. So, part on this note, and spend the rest of your day wanting to dress in a giant robot suit and fight giant monsters. Or not. As you will.

BWAAAAARRRRRGGGHHHH!!!

Why has Pacific Rim plagued my blog so much? We'll never know. Kelly and I are confused about Hollywood these days and it seems to be at the centre of said confusion, so maybe that's why. Iunno. MONSTERS! 

Skeptical violence is violent

Today has provided me with even more quantifiable evidence towards, after getting quite acclimatized to not getting sufficient sleep, oversleeping actually making me feel far more tired. Observe: I finally get about nine hours of sleep last night, and I've been functioning like a walking zombie all day since. Kristy had to catch my writing "about nine of hours of sleep" in the preceding sentence. Yeesh.

Size does matter

So.

Basically.

I was doing so well for so long, and gleefully rubbing it in everyone's face all the while.

"Are you still doing that blog of yours?" "Yup. Every. Single. Day. Ch-ch-ch-check it."

And then came Weezer. 

And, of course, that intoxicating, "Well, I've already missed blogging for a couple of days in a row, so I may as well not stress about getting an entry in today." And overall I'm fine with that. Life has been so phenomenally awesome for the past couple of days, I can afford a little lenience. It's not like any of you really care anyway. Unless you're one of those approximately two people (according to that creepy "page views" dealy) who's actually been following this semi-regularly. In which case, I wuv you. And stuff.

Back on track though!

Becky told me I should write an extra long post to make up for missed ones. I think I'm going to do the exact opposite, and make an extra-concise one, with less of my usual preamble-y crap. Why? Because suck it, that's why.

So, without further ado: my fact of the day. I'm actually cheating, because I learned this fact from Danae on Monday. Breaking all 'dem rules! Still, I thought this was too good not to be shared, so here goes!

#11: In Ancient Greek times, small penises were considered a sign of intelligence.

Basically, the Greeks were all about the de-aestheticization of the body in favour of intellect. So, to them, having a smaller penis was more indicative of privileging the brain as the most sexually desirable feature, rather than physicality. That's why so many famous statues from that time, and even later ones, like Michelangelo's David, had small penises - to emphasize their civility, intelligence, and desirability. Conversely, the stereotype about African Americans being well-endowed, sadly yet unsurprisingly enough, stems from a pretty racist tradition of demonizing them as being bestial, with their giant penises being seen as a sign of animalistic ferocity and savagery, being reduced exclusively to their bodies, with no higher considerations.

Le sigh.

So there you have it! In the words of the universally detested (except by me) 1990s Godzilla...

 
...just not maybe in the way you were expecting.

Sayonara kids! See you tomorrow (for realsies, I promise)!

What are you going to do when you are done trolling New Zealand?

Salutations.

So, today was the Khatsahlano musical festival, and that was fun. Mostly navigated it by myself, though Ty and I checked out a band called Good For Grapes, who were pretty awesome.

As such, I found myself largely reflecting on music-related matters today. Well, actually I started out pondering whether having children teaches adults to allow themselves to have fun once again, shaking away the apathy that seems to come with the ethereal, dreaded construction known as "growing up".

Then I found myself really dwelling on the phrase "What are you going to do when you are not saving the world?" In a way, in spite of all the shitty things they have to deal with, superheroes are kind of set in the sense that they never have to struggle to find an objective in life that is fulfilling in the sense of "Am I doing good in the world?" Of course, more awesome heroes like Spider-Man would always serve to complicate that, as well as illustrate the crappiness of life and human nature...

...but it's still my "educated" opinion that, overall, in the midst of worrying about money, love, and family, ol' Pete Parker still goes off to sleep deeply believing that what he's doing is good and worthwhile. And that's why we love him, ain't it? 

Of course this also leads into, by extension, thematic and affective dimensions excessively advocating putting too much trust in a single person's moral standards to apply as "the greater good" that, if taken to an extreme, leads to a police state or fascism. Buuuuuut this is getting a bit too film studies-y, so I'll cut myself off there. Theses are fun. 

Back to music.

So, mulling over the myriad of complexities suggested (to me, anyway) by Martha Kent's simple words, I, naturally, couldn't get the track of the same name out of my head. It is, of course, Hans Zimmer's magnificent Superman score.

And that, of course, led me to thinking about John Williams' Superman theme - arguably the most iconic musical theme ever. Please. Debate me. I dare you. Other contenders? Also by John Williams.

Yeah, this guy is pretty much the bomb.

So, I started doing some digging on the ol' John Williams front, and I came across a piece of information so comical that it couldn't possibly not be my fact of the day. So here goes.

#10: John Williams' son, Joseph Williams, is the lead singer for the band Toto.

Yup. Toto. As in the deliciously 80s band responsible for the earwormiest of earworms, "Africa".

Yup. "Africa". The song that reached #1 in New Zealand this year, thanks to an inspired podcast called "The Edge", who successfully trolled the entire country into listening to it to the point of it reaching #1 over 30 years after its release. God bless New Zealand for their senses of humour.

So there you go! Speaking of music, SOMEBODY is seeing MAFAWKIN' WEEZER in Victoria tomorrow! And SOMEBODY is just a WEE BIT EXCITED about it!

(that somebody is me, just in case the caps didn't tip you off)

So, to drive the Toto out of your head, I will leave you with my favourite Weezer song, and most enthusiastically belted karaoke song. Ta ta!

Pancakes

This is the first Mike Mignola Hellboy comic I've ever read, although I quite enjoyed the Guillermo Del Toro movies. I'd also really love him to get the budget to make the third, especially given the drastically upsized scope he discusses for it. I guess we'll have to see how Pacific Rim does.

In the meantime, for your reading pleasure, "Pancakes". Its simplicity made me very happy.

The cost of fairies

Today, I had my first three-way.

Three-way SKYPE CONVERSATION, that is! Jeez, get your mind out of the gutter. What do you take me for - some kind of trollop? Forsooth!

At any rate, Skyping with Mike and K-Cam was more fun than a sack of ferrets, and much overdue. However, while doing so, as it so often does, the conversation turned to Pokémon. We exchanged our educated opinions on Pokémon X and Y, both coming out this fall. And, in looking into some of the new Pokémon, I discovered that there is a new Pokémon type. That new type is... the Fairy type.

Yes, you read that correctly. Fairy type.

They look like this.

Or this:

The new "Eeveelution" - Fairy type.

Yeah, this is the kind of thing that seems custom-made to make me embarrassed to still play Pokémon.

Most of the new ones, arguably more than any other generation, look like dumb fan art made by artistic eight year olds. There's even frickin' pandas.

Skrelp is kind of cool though (if only for the name), as is the world's first sword Pokémon, Honedge. 

Sigh. 

The worst part is, I know I'm still going to buy this game, and will almost certainly still love it. When will I leeeaaaaarrrrrrnnnn? 

On to my fact of the day, which (unintentionally but awesomely) is loosely connected with Pokémon.

 

#9: the most expensive city in the world to live in, currently, is Tokyo, Japan. 

Osaka is the second most expensive city, and Sydney, Australia is the third. The rest of the list you can find here. For some reason, I had thought Vancouver placed in the top ten, but maybe that was just overblown rumours circulating from people trying to bolster the awesomeness of where my rump currently rests, to quote Pumba. 

So there you have it. I'm off to actually do some thesis work like a good little grad student now, and not just revert to (you guessed it) Pokémon, as I so often do. 

Pacific Rim tonight, yo! 

Taco Baby

Right after I wrote my last post, Kristy drew my attention to this, which, frankly, is too hysterical to not repost.

It's times like this where the prospect of being a parent sometime in the future seems less horrific. Taco-turtle-baby is my favourite.

Kristy also opened a conversation with "I drew a Barney today." I got no further context than that. Nor did I want any.

But actually goodnight for realizes this time.

Sad Hulk, happy vibrators

Your lifetime membership is freeeeeeeee.

Tonight I saw How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying at TUTS. For you non-Vancouverites or not theatre-y people, that's 'Theatre Under the Stars' in Stanley park. A rather droll acronym, if only because it almost looks like 'tits' every time (side note: did you know The Bloodhound Gang's most infamous song is from an album called Hooray for Boobies? I found this out this year, and it made me chortle. Also, good luck getting that song out of your head now), and verges on triggering work trauma from my days of yore working projection at Princess Cinemas for the Tutts. Shudder. I legitimately still have quasi-nightmares about that sometimes. Fun times.

I also sorta-kinda-almost volunteered to do volunteer stage crew work for Legally Blonde: The Musical (the other TUTS production), which I saw with Becky yesterday. Although not doing so was unquestionably the right decision, there's still some dashes of guilt thurr. But let's not get into my Scorsese-esq guilt issues here. Phenomenal show though.

Anyway, How To Succeed. You know it as, "Whoa! Dan Radcliffe can sing and dance, rock an American accent AND a tweed blazer? Get out!" (or perhaps Darren Criss or Nick Jonas, but that would draw the slightest smidgen of judgment). I know it as the first show I did in university, and my first musical ever. Major nostalgia boner seeing it reenacted tonight. I found myself trying not to snidely dismiss the dude who played my inconsequential part for not seeming as interesting as I hoped I was in his place (and certainly not improv-ing as much). Ultimately I just miss acting. Yes already.

GRARRRGHHH YOUTUBE ADS MAKE ME WANT TO SMASH [ha! it's not even a Hulk clip hyperlinked either. Bet you were expecting that. Becca will get it, though. Further nostalgia for the win]

I just imagined Hulk being sad that I skipped out on referencing him, so I'll throw one in, if only because I just realized I haven't put any silly pictures in yet.

There you go. I do quite enjoy when 'laughing out loud' isn't just a figure of speech, as was just the case when I stumbled across this. Also, I've been having one of my phases where I've returned to drinking coffee of late, so... topical. Almost. Words.

On to things more factual.

My fact of the day today is about sex toys.

Yes James, I've missed you too.

Specifically...  #8: Almost all Asian vibrators have happy faces on them. Or resemble animals. And this is now a trend that has caught on elsewhere in the world.

This might seem very obvious to those of you with more vibrator experience, but it was news to me. The mentality behind it also was. Specifically, in Japan, building and selling sex toys had apparently always been a lucrative business, until there was a law passed that sex toys could no longer explicitly resemble male genitalia (too "obscene"... big surprise). So, to get around this, they started building vibrators that resembled happy animals, so, if pressed, they could pass them off as... exciting children's toys. Eww. 

But there you have it. Happy, animalistic vibrators. Freud would have a field day. 

How did I get led to this line of thought? Because I read an ad in the Georgia Straight on the way to How to Succeed about a dinosaur vibrator, which I thought sounded like the most hysterical and awesome thing of life. 

DINOBRATOR. Or, Kristy's contribution: Vibratosaurus Rex. Both golden.

Normally I'd try to close with something irreverent and funny, but I'm really tired. So, in conclusion, listen to Wolverine. With love.

Dinosaurs are the answer to everything

Oooh, this time I get to start with a controversial tangent! Yay!

So, today I read this, found it alternatively interesting and tiresome, and generally got more afraid to leave university and have to find a 'real job'. Yay.

I say tiresome because I've found myself growing steadily more irritated when I come across articles like this, and am constantly striving to figure out why. Whenever I try to enter into this kind of discussion, I always seem to find myself agreeing with the other speaker, regardless of their position, yet constantly feeling annoyed and unsatisfied. I think I may have actually figured out why that is. I think (as hilariously contradictory as it is, knowing me), it's because of the frequency, repetition, and limited scope of the objections raised.

Now, allow me to complain a bit about complaining.

The thing is, I absolutely sympathize with all of the complaints raised by Matt Bors (circa virtually everyone else in my frickin' age group) about the difficult socio-economic climate, job markets and so forth. I do. It's tough, and very scary, and I feel immensely fortunate that it's not a situation I have to deal with at this immediate point in my life. So, please don't feel that this is going to turn into some kind of Randian rant (Rantian?), because that could not be farther from my intent. Although, if that was where this blog was going, it would probably somehow reference one of my favourite Simpsons sight-gags of all time:

That said, I do often find myself lapsing into similar generalized bitching about my generation, saying that we're over-entitled, lazy, apathetic, and whiney. I'm not proud of this fact. I'd rather be cheerful and productive than pointlessly circle-jerk in mopiness (contrary to my usual angle of approach). And that, I think, is why I get annoyed reading articles like Bors'.

The thing is, I don't ultimately disagree with any of Bors' points. What I do disagree with is him positing all of them as if all of what he writes is revelatory or news. Although Bors' article is purportedly in response to the supposed multitude of articles damning "the millennials" (I'd never even heard that term before. I thought we were supposed to be "Generation Y" or whatever anyway...), I feel like I've come across a trillion times more articles defending us and all of the hardships we have to deal with than those damning us. And that frustrates me, feeling like everyone is constantly complaining about how hard a time we have, and recycling the same points as evidence. That, to me, starts to feel redundant, pointless, and counterproductive rather than helpful. I wish, I suppose, that it was easier to complain creatively.

I fully understand the objective of finding solidarity through consensus, but, to me, the frequency that I've heard such arguments suggests that the consensus is well understood (matter of opinion? probably, but let's roll with this nonetheless). As such, finding countless comments of people equally sharing their difficulties of finding work and struggling with college debt as if it's a point that further needed to be proven draws frustration from me rather than sympathy. To me, having established such a community, I'd prefer if I saw more evidence of people working together to develop proactive dialogues about how to help navigate (or, better yet, improve) the cultural climate that everyone is struggling with so much right now.

Or at least less complaining. I realize things suck a lot for a lot of people, but I feel like that kind of stagnant negativity is what helps establish the negative stereotypes about our generation in the first place. The jadedness-turned-apathy is so easy to feed off of in a bad way. Again, I'm innocent of none of this, but I still wish it was easier to think of more proactive ways of vocalizing discontent. Like making more flip-books of fire-spitting sharks wearing jetpacks fighting dinosaurs.

Since I can't draw that well, this will have to tide you over in the meantime. Let it perk up your unemployed spirits!

The fact that so many "look at how hard a time the Millennials are having!" articles adopt the same tone of woeful self-righteousness at prior generations further just makes me feel like this:

But then again, I feel the same way about this blog a lot, so I digress.

In more fun news today, Kelly also tipped me off to this, which made me gurgle like a happy hippo: 

Step 1. Go to http://www.vogue.co.uk/ (trust me, it's worth it)
Step 2. Type in the Konami code of up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A (courtesy of some amazing hacker)
Step 3. Enjoy what happens.
Tip: Keep pressing A to make more appear.
Read more at ONTD: http://ohnotheydidnt.livejournal.com/?skip=10#ixzz2YaXTs5eO

So, in conclusion, dinosaurs are the answer to everything. 

Which, in turn, leads to my fun fact of the day. I was determined to learn something cool about Velociraptors, after making so many of them pop up wearing fancy hats on the Vogue website (fun fact: if you button mash 'A', you can make a shit-ton of them continuously appear, which, naturally, led to me humming the most feared song in Disney history). 

I thought it would be a touch difficult, considering my dinosaur obsession has led to me being well-versed in most of the most common "did you know?"s of velociraptors (yes I knew they were as tall as chickens, and that the massive ones in my favourite movie were based more on deinonychus instead, yes I knew they had feathers, yes I knew they actually didn't hunt in packs). Nonetheless, I came across something pretty cool, which I'm considering fact of the day:

#7: Velociraptors became popular (at least in the rungs of paleontology) because of a particularly intact fossil of a raptor attacking a protoceratops. 

  

Here it is. It's called "Fighting Dinosaurs", and is one of the most famous fossils ever, largely because of how dramatic and intact it is. Paleontologists theorize that this was the case because of both being immediately covered and killed instantly by a sudden sandstorm. So that's kind of cool.

This article even has a breakdown of how the fight would have turned out, had it gotten the chance to run its course. I love that people do stuff like this. And whoever said science couldn't be fun?

So there you have it. Now I'm all worried about the deluges of backlash about even hinting at bashing "Millennials" that I might get if anyone actually read this. The only solution - never voice any opinions about anything.

Or, to return to The Simpsons,

Kristy's also been singing "Spider-Pig" lately, so I'll throw that up for good measure too. 

   

Apparently I consistently laugh at pigs, as my eruptions of laughter at the Monsters University "pigskin"suggest.

So there you have it. If not dinosaurs, pigs are the answer to everything. 

Or moose. Moose are inherently funny too.

I have a pair of moose boxers.

Once I saw about seventeen moose in a single forest clearing around a mini-lake type thing. No foolin'! I think it was in Nova Scotia or somewhere around there. I can't recall for certain - I was quite young. I remember the moose, though.

Monty Python also enjoy moose (especially in Swedish). 

Aaaaaaaaannnddd I'm done.