The real reason I quit ROTC…
Category Archives: Distractions
From my iPhone
Birthday Comes Early
Trends, my friends.
In the past SharkBoy has greeted the anniversary of the first day of existence with fun gadgets that fill up our empty relationship (holy crap I am so kidding…):
One year I got a PSP and a marriage proposal.
Last year was the iPhone (amen) and a Wii (bless me).
This year? A 50″ plasma TV. Okay I am paying for half but it’s a welcome purchase/gift none the less. Xbox will not be disappointing.
I guess next year will be our own satellite if we were to keep with/outdo the electronics theme.
Tonight, while going off to BestBuy to buy it bestly, we stopped in at Funland to check to see if they were really closing on Friday night, my actual birthday. Nope. They were closing this evening. Thankfully we took the time to check. We chatted with the change guy (He was actually smoking inside at the booth – what were they going to do? Shut him down?) and then pushed my way through the small crowd to the back where the ancient games were kept. SharkBoy was a bit skeeved at the lighting and a few sketchy patrons but was reverent with my memories.
Ghosts of my past. The arcade was full of hyper active Asian kids playing Dance Dance Revolution at speeds that made me physically frightened for the integrity of their ankles. I really wish the iPhone did video. Really not much different than when I use to go there – just using a different appendage to slap the buttons.The one game we decided to play “stole” $2 from us.
Bye Funland! I’ll think of you often when I see dead technology.
Now we wait for the delivery truck. I am so going to get a catheter for Sunday!
Spells I Wish I Could Cast
Put on your Hoofindor House colours and wave your wands, kids!
Expecto Petrolium: For anyone who thinks that bad driving is their god given right, they get their hands turned into gas pump nozzles that actually spews their blood that magically transmogrifies into gas. Mobs will hunt you out and NOT pay $.25/ltr. They’ll just take it, because, you know, it’s their god given right.
Expectus Hoarktonium: Spitting in the gym showers? Your eyes turn to phlegm. Sad movies make you blind.
Expetor Dooreasius: You push the handicapped door button and you’re able bodied with nothing in your hands? Zap. Your arms are now 2 inches long. Now you have a reason.
Expecta Jackhammerus: This spell turns any City Works foreman into a slice of cheesecake at a Jenny Craig Convention if they authorize power tool work to be done outside my window before 7am.
Expeti Thongrollium: I see your underwear outside your pants? Poof – it turns into the ugliest version of the opposite sex’s gitch. Women get mustard yellow baggy boxers. Men get rhinestone encrusted thongs. Unremovable for 24 hours.
Expect Moreblogcrappius: I cast a spell where I do excellent writing. Sigh.
Devil May Care
My review for the Mini Book Expo
Devil May Care
Sebastian Faulks writing as Ian Flemming
* Hardcover: 304 pages
* Publisher: Doubleday (May 28, 2008)
* ISBN-10: 0385524285
* ISBN-13: 978-0385524285
Shipping sponsored by RandomHouse.ca
I’m not a big fan of authors taking over a franchise after the death of the original author and have regarded books like this as “authorized fan fiction”, not unlike the pornographic fanfic you discover on the web. I usually find these types of novels are soulless copies of the originals. The essence of the series the author cultivated throughout his career was always somehow missing when handed over to a young buck, much like several Issac Asimov 3 Laws of Robotics books. The ideas are there, but there’s no “life”. However, after reading DMC, I find that Faulks has created a story that is very much like an Andy Warhol print: not the original but important and to be revered just as much.
The Ian Flemming Foundation decided to release a new novel on the 100th birthday of Flemming and choose Faulks, a popular British writer to do it. Set in 1967, just after Flemming’s last (posthumous) book Octopussy, DMC has every element a great Bond story should have: a curvaceous, mysterious woman, Bond jetting off to exotic locales, car chases, a colourful screw-loose villain with a sadistic, quirky henchman and (out-turned pinky to bottom lip here, people) a world domination plot. In lieu of an arsenal of gadgets (which Bond claims to not like using), Faulks pulls one giant ‘gadget’ out of the history books which I won’t spoil, but yet made me geekily excited when I realized what it was. Faulks’ story is set mostly in the Middle East, late 60s where he manages to draw parallels to current issues with an air of foreboding which surprisingly made it extremely readable.
The book isn’t without it’s quirks: Faulks seems to pepper in too many “gourmet dining” scenes for my liking to establish that Bond runs with the rich and cultured. Several instances in the book has our hero eating while spying: Bond meets Scarlett Papava and has a late supper in Paris with her; Bond eats a lot of room service eggs while waiting for appointments; Bond dines in a Tehran cafe with his Middle Eastern contact; Bond eats cheese in Moscow. Every chapter has a few pages devoted to what the characters are eating or drinking which becomes distracting after a while. If this was a metaphor or a theme, it was lost on me – refueling? The music of life? Food seen as information stimuli? Faulks does detail the clothing and outfits of the late 60’s, but without designer label name dropping, which I thought would have placed more emphasis on the character’s rich lifestyles.
What Faulks lacks in setting, he makes up in action. His scenes of conflict are extremely well orchestrated and visual. He writes with such specialized detail that I had no doubt in believing what he was offering in way of guns, machinery or fighting technique. Faulks sets Bond’s initial contact with the villainous Dr Gorner in a tennis match so wrought with skill and minutiae that I may never look at another game the same way. His fight scenes are so clearly controlled, it’s cinematic (hint hint, Hollywood!).
Which brings me to the villain, Dr Julius Gorner, a rich pharmaceutical genius, hellbent on destroying all things English. Like every Bond villain, Gorner has one physical flaw: a deformed “monkeys paw” of a hand, which he embarrassingly covers with a white glove. It’s obvious that Faulks made Gorner a nod to Dr No: the original Dr No was named Dr Julius No; Dr No lost his hands in an attempt to send a message to other criminal rivals, where Dr Gorner cuts the tongues out of his insubordinates as a message to other informants; Gorner tortures Bond in a “cigar tube” escape attempt, much like Dr No does with Bond in air shafts. The similarities were a bit too close to Dr No, so much so that I found myself reading Gorner’s conversations in my head with the same clipped way Joseph Wiseman delivered his lines in the movie. Yet Gorner stands out on his own as satisfying as any Flemming creation when his hubris is served up to him at the hands of Bond.
If you’re like myself, a mild Bond fan (read 2 books, seen most of the movies, some twice) then you’ll enjoy DMC. If you’re anything less, you may not get the culture. But I am sure you’ll enjoy the ride! I would recommend Devil May Care to anyone looking for a little action in their summer reading.
Truth In Snacks
Caption This
Over on The Mangina Monologues, cb has had some pretty funny Family Circus captions.
Now I want to try:
Image via Boingboing via Derrickbostrom.com
For example, I’d say something tasteless like… oh….
“Did I remember to order the clown for Jon Benet’s party?”
Now you go!
Rogers Ad Remix
Phronk hates Rogers as much as I do. He getting tired of their flyers coming through his door trying to sell him stuff he doesn’t want or already has. Go take a look at his post. He makes a great point about how crap we don’t need is displayed like something religious.
I loved his remix of it. So I did one too:
On My Radar
Here are some things I’m looking at, wondering about, going to do or ignoring:
I go for a refitting (or second try?) of contacts tomorrow morning. My right eye seems to go in and out of focus at the blink of an eye. Weee! That will certainly make driving random!
Tomorrow night, SharkBoy and I will line up (early) to say “Hello!” to David Sedaris. SharkBoy just finished his last book and called it his best. I just want him to say my name.
I got my first Mini Book Expo in the mail yesterday: Devil May Care. It’s yet another fanfic (debatable classification, since it’s ok’d by the publisher?) of someone writing in Ian Flemming’s style. I have to say I’m enjoying it a lot. Review to come soon.
Through SharkBoy’s constant refreshing on CBC.ca, he got us tickets to the second last elimination show of How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria? I’m going to make a special sign for Gavin! Go Jana! WOoooOOO!111!!!
Rogers stores aren’t having PS3-like hysterical line ups like New Zealand, or the US. If Apple is really “punishing” Rogers for their prices, then they forgot to take into account that there are as many Rogers stores and kiosks as there are Starbucks. So 10 per shop is like 1000000000 available for sale. Just walk to the next block if your local is sold out. Or better yet, send a message to Rogers and dont buy one!
I would like to see Hellboy II this weekend. ‘Nuff said about that.
Da is fine. He’s taken to ordering food from a woman who cooks for the gods. I swear her BBQ beef could melt titanium. No, I won’t tell you any more details other than she lives in the East End. He has the cutest little belly on him, now that he can eat untethered. Big Puffy Chest Alert: He’s been named the MCCT’s Volunteer of the Year! Time to break out the suit for July 20th!
And finally, a crawling Japanese Business Man Robot, just for shits and giggles:
Walk Out To Roncie…
Roncesvalles. Ronsayvayles. Ronc-si-vail. Roncy. How ever you pronounce it, it’s a pretty neighbourhood. Pretty removed… Here’s some pics of us wandering out there and back on Queen Street through Parkdale. My dogs are barkin’!
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