The Watchmen

After watching "The Dark Knight" and also seeing the awesome trailer of "The Watchmen" I decided to revisit said trade paperback. For those of you who don't know, a trade paper back is a collection of smaller issues of comic books that are put into graphic novel form. Now that we have that little bit of geek jargon out of the way let me get on to the important parts.


(Ozymandias)

"The Watchmen," written by Alan Moore of "V for Vendetta" fame, wanted to write an adult comic; a comic that crossed the generation gap while simultaneously commenting on modern society and specifically American Society. The thing is, while doing this Moore might have written the most beautiful, tragic, and darkest comic book series that the world has ever seen. Certainly it is one of the top ten greatest comic books ever written.



Warning: Some spoilers are ahead, but only the basic plot beginning.

The story begins with the murder of one of the "Minute Men" a superhero group from the 1940's alternate history U.S. From here the story spirals into a thickening plot of a "mask killer" conspiracy, the dissolutionment of those heroes who are alive after masked vigilantism has been out-lawed, and possible nuclear annihilation of the world via growing tensions between Nixon (creepy, huh) run U.S.A. and the communist Russia. These problems escalate when the U.S.'s only real super-powered superhero Dr. Manhattan (Doctor Jon Osterman) decides to leave the planet Earth for Mars after allegations that contact with him causes cancer.


(Rorschach)


The story is beautifully written, with large excerpts from media of the world that "The Watchmen" takes place in. These include the psychiatric evaluations of "Rorschach," a brutally violent masked vigilante bent on stopping evil at any cost, and parts of "Under the Hood" a book written by one of "The Minute Men," Hollis Mason who went by the name "Nite Owl."


(Nite Owl 2)



(The Comedian)

http://watchmenmovie.warnerbros.com/

The Dark Knight

The Hype is true. It's all true. The movie is so far not only the best Batman film ever made, it is probably the best comic book movie ever made. Hands down. The film is a slow building simmer of action, twists, and death. A lot of people in the movie die. A LOT.

While Christian Bale's portrayal of said Dark Knight is amazing the true performance is Heath Ledger. I know, I know, and it is not just because he's dead. Honestly. I love the Joker, I would go so far as to say he is one of the best fictional villains of all time. Ledger brought him to life. Nicholson played a great Joker, but there was still too much of the Caesar Romero silliness for it to be the Joker I had always had in my mind.

The Joker is a sociopathic, psychotic, mass-murdering lunatic one can't help but love and detest at the same time. Not only does Ledger's shambling stride, slurred speech, and general persona capture this, but the costume design and make-up make it so that you can almost smell him; it does not smell good.



The storyline of the film is great weaving loved and hated characters of Batman mythos throughout, the is drama, action, tragedy and catharsis. Not only a great comic book film, but a great film. It is worth every penny of the $10.25 to see it on the big screen.

So, if you're on the fence about seeing what might possibly be Ledger's finest role (and I fucking love him in Brokeback Mountain) get the fuck off that fence and go see the film.

Another good thing about seeing the Dark Knight in theaters is that you will see the preview for "The Watchmen" widely acclaimed as the greatest graphic novel ever written. (I know, Sandman is fucking awesome, but I gotta go with The Watchmen).





P.S. Otis Redding is playing at the coffee shop and life is good.

The Road

I had never read a Cormac McCarthy book. Not until his most recent novel, The Road, a post-apocalyptic novel about a father and son's struggle to survive in an ash-covered dead world. The story is beautiful and tragic, uplifting and heart breaking. McCarthy's writing style is terse, yet contains moments of intensity and magic. The characters are beautiful and sympathetic, and the book delves into the horrors that live within the human heart.

The novel is a quick read for it's size and there is little punctuation, no chapters per se, and it bounces between the present in the book and flashbacks the father has about life before the apocalypse (which is never explained.)

I loved this book, plain and simple. I have not read a book this dark and depressing, yet beautiful and cathartic as this novel in a long, long time. For those of you who have never read McCarthy (as I hadn't) I highly recommend it.

Life, the Universe, and Everything

I've been really busy. Really, really, really, fucking busy. I'm working 40+ hours for my job coach job and still working at the hotel, plus I've got a videography gig. Pretty sweet, except the lack of sleep.

So what else has been happening in my life? One might ask. I don't know. When I try to think about what I've been doing I draw a big fat blank. I feel like I'm entirely comprised of work and sleep with booze playing a delicate balancing act.

But then, slowly I realize that I'm still doing all the awesome shit that I usually do. I went to the Sub-Pop 20th anniversary comedy show with my friend Maggie Battles on Friday the 11th followed. I'll back post about it. Hopefully. . . after that Battles and I went to The Elephant and Castle and I got drunk as shit on my buddy Mark's last day of work. Thanks again for the free booze MTJ.

What else? I went to Salmon La Sac and had a usual grand time, with highlights of breaking up a teenie-bopper fight, playing copious amounts of music, and drinking cold beer in 103 degree weather. Joy of Joys.

I've been reading a lot, and will post all about those books, in usual "So Picante Its Enfuego" style. But, for the time being I will be happy and tired and busy. . . and sometimes a little drunk.

Happy 4th of July!

Well, yet again it is the birthday of the United States (not to be confused with "Birth of a Nation") and everybody is getting geared up for beer, fireworks, and barbecues. With this in mind I have a few videos for you. Happy 4th.










As a final note, wouldn't it be weird if we called all our holidays by their date? Happy 1st of July! (Canada Day), Happy November 27th! (This year's Thanksgiving), Merry December 25th (Duh). . . you get the point. The only other holiday I can think of in this category is Cinqo De Mayo, and that's Mexican Independence day. Maybe it has something to do with that. . . Meh.

Of Late Night Evenings and Inablility to Sleep Part 3

Watched the first 3 episodes of "Undeclared" with Drew. Sometimes I wonder what the fuck I am doing with my life. I stare at the computer screen, and my mind draws a big fat blank. I hop on facebook, look up friends to see if they are there. The semblance of keeping in touch.

So many people pass by and it all ends up being bullshit. George Carlin is dead of a heart attack at 71. In my head I think that for him it is both young and old. I think of everyone I know, or rather knew, that is dead now. Every year the number gets bigger. I get depressed over the fact that I sometimes can't see their faces anymore; I have to look at a picture.

I think about where I was a year ago, how I haven't submitted my internship papers, even though I have finished. I think about others in my graduating class, and how they are already working in film.

I think about the fact that I will most likely be laid off from my job at the Lyon Rouge soon, on account of nepotism. At least I won't get fired. Maybe I'll be able to get un-employment for a while. That'd be nice.

My lungs weigh heavier each day, as I smoke more and more cigarettes. Sometimes it's hard to breathe for no reason. At least I try to tell myself its for no reason. But there always is a reason. I feel recharged in some ways from Salmon La Sac, and more dead tired in other ways. I feel like I need a vacation from my vacation.

Maybe I just complain too much.

I wonder if anyone feels as listless and bored as I do. I wonder why anyone could love me. I wonder why I love people. I wonder why I care for the people I do. I wonder if anyone reads my blog.

I feel sorry for those who love me. I download free porn and feel slightly ashamed, finish up, and smoke a cigarette. I bet the irony of my life will be that I get skin cancer or prostate cancer and my lungs will be fine till the day I die.

I get depressed at my own mortality; I wonder if anyone else does. . .

Fuck it.

poetry, more like blowetry

you, me, burrito
My heart is nothing more
than a microwave burrito
stuffed with cheese
that leaks from the sides
and hardens
and when you are done
all that is left
is the napkin covered in goo
and some stupid fucking
wrapper

Smile
I see you, I smile,
with beer and cigarette breath
a yellow smile
but a smile none the less
you see me, you smile,
wide mouth grin
eyes bright
a smile I can dig
we see each other, we smile
across rooms, through doors
smiles penetrate glass and wood
and me. . .
I smile

Blossom's Brother (Not Joey, The Other One)
Don't forget
to bury my heart
at wounded
krelbow

Mixed Tape Generator

This thing is hilarious. Here are a few gems for you. . .

Shortbus Revisited

This evening I revisited a film called "Shortbus," by director John Cameron Mitchell. I reviewed it for my blog the first time I saw it, and I have to say it is still amazing. Go Netflix it. Now.