Fighting an Amazon

General

To Whom It May Concern At Your Faceless Corporation, Amazon dot com,

Every other day I put a variant URL of “shop it here.com” in my blocker and every other day a new URL shows up, redirecting back to your site.

You’re a big money making website, getting your little spiders to put your link on private blogs in hopes to drum up business. I’m just a little guy with about 800 visits a month. I pay for my hosting and URL out of my own pocket, I get measly traffic from friends and family and take pride in knowing that whoever visits my site is not bothered by ads. I have tried to stop you but you’re pretty insistant in displaying your link on my small site, so if you want it there, you better be prepared to pay for it.

Whom should I address my invoice to?

Waiting for your prompt reply.

Dead Robot

PS: It took me forever just to find a simple “general comments” form on your site. Getting in contact with your company was like wandering onto the set of Brazil. Your inability to easily accept inquiries makes me think you have something to hide…? A cyberfriend directed me to this number: 1 800 201 7575 I haven’t tried it, yet, as that I suspect its for the US only.

Dayglo

Celebs and Media, Distractions

Trapped in the 80s I am.

I have iTunes Radio open at work. I highly recommend you use this feature and especially search out Dayglo Radio. It has “lost” remixes from the 80s that has made a tear of joy slide lazily over my cheek. Other feeds are available for you non-iTunes neanderthals.

Phantom Culture

Celebs and Media

I went and saw Phantom of the Opera last night and I cant shake this feeling that I’ve just seen the Battlestar Galactica of movie musicals.

I got this sick feeling part way through it (inbetween naps) I have seen this all before. That George Lucas (with Speilberg) and Andrew Lloyd Weber both have elevated the medium they work in to such impossibly unobtainable levels of success that they effectively killed small budget undertakings and drove independent movies/theatre underground for twenty years. Yet they both created a library of work that millions have seen and loved in some way or another.

With that said, PotO was so reworked and reused that it reminded me of the wave of movies that tried to cash in on Star Wars, like Battlestar, Battle Beyond The Stars and the Star Trek franchise, but in this case, we got rehashing of Moulin Rouge, Chicago and Van Helsing.

Okay that last one wasnt a musical but you get my drift. PotO was a movie musical reworked from (going backwards) a stage performance, a slew of movies (Paradise, anyone?), and finally a novel. In this effort, the themes from the original story are worked and reworked to reflect our current cultural levels while giving us 20 year old pop music to hum along to. An example of is that the Phantom himself was no where near grotesque as suggested in the story. Why? Because we didnt have time to “warm up to” him like we did to John Merrick in The Elephant Man (stage or movie). True to formulaic Hollywood movies, we had to deposit our pity on him without being totally repulsed so close to the end, so his makeup had to be toned down from the original stories so that we could accept him fast before we killed him off.

With this movie cotowing to the Hollywood formula, it makes me think that alien archeologists will unearth this movie and get a completely skewed view of pre-photography medium history: “Gas light gives off enough energy to light an entire cavern? Everyone in 1800s Paris spoke with an Eglish accent? There were two-way mirrors and safety glass back then?” (Moulin Rouge is extremely guilty of this as well)

Joel Schumacher did create several beautiful shots of opulent Paris opera, while borrowing from several paintings of the period, but someone needs to tell him how to shoot and edit a good fight scene. Too jumpy, too fast and not enough satisfying long shots of the action, much like his work on Batman (barf!). Trap Raoul under water and Schumacher runs film backward to extend the tension! Watch the bubbles go down!

I saw this movie with 4 other die-hard PotO fans and they were shocked to hear my views. I guess I didnt succumb to the music of the night.

Tired of the Holidays?

Distractions

Better late than never, I present to you my Halloween pictures for 2004. Three categories: Friends (pretty self explanitory), Great Costume (Best Lara Croft EVAH!), and What the Fuck? (the costume you know they had all of 5 minutes to throw on before going out…possibly drunk).

Enjoy!

(Ed – link long since gone… try clicking on the Gallery button, upper right)

Ice Sculptures

Favorite, Toronto

The Mailman, Sharkboy and I emerge from Sears into Dundas Square, cultural centre of Toronto, smack dab into some ice sculpture contest, sponsored by some culturally sympathetic corporation. The crowds are tremendous and aggressive as free events in the downtown core of Toronto usually are.

“Watch this,” Sharkboy says. He pushes through the crowd up to the first sculpture’s barracade. A 6 ft ice statue of a human figure is melting nicely behind the fence, its arms stretched out in icy brotherly love. People are straining to see over our shoulders as The Mailman and I jockey in behind Sharkboy.

Long pause. No expression. “I dont get it,” Sharkboy says loudly and turns from the statue. People look at him as he leaves as if he’s mad. Its an ice sculpture of a man!

Sculpture #2 is a mermaid, suitable for any wedding table centrepiece. “I dont get it,” he says louder and pushes past.

“It’s the Littlest Mermaid. I think I see the Disney Store sign back there,” I loudly join in. The Mailman is stunned and is trying to avoid us as we jockey to the next booth. In his horror to get away from our shenanigans, he stomps on a woman’s foot.

At the next booth a big wind god head with flowing mane and pursed lips sits atop an icy arch as it oversees a vignette of some sea expedition…or tragedy. Viewing ice sculptures during the day without the lights behind them sort of makes them flat and unreadable. The sign proclaims this booth was sponsored by “T-One” (or it was the title of the sculpture, we never figured that one out). “T-one? Tone? Trone?” Sharkboy muses loudly.

“Tron!” I offer. “This one HAS to be sponsored by Disney!”

A shortish woman in front of me turns and says “What is that one?”

“Tron,” I say without missing a beat.

“Ah. I thought so.” And she’s gone.

May I Present…

Personal Bits, Queer stuff, Toronto

…Mister and Mister Daniel and Mark (John?)!

What a lovely ceremony! What a lovely couple! Not a hint of politics or religion and several poiniant quotes from ee cummings to get the heartstrings tugged (yes, I did cry, thankyouverymuch, much to my sister and Sharkboy’s delight). It went off without any screaming ex-boyfriends banging on the windows, yelling “Mrs Bouvier! Mrs Bouvier!!”

Best comment, pre-wedding: “Hey Dan, when you do this again, you need to get a bigger venue.”

Thanks to Mark’s friends and bits of my family, who made the effort to come and get stuck in this crappy weather. Thanks to Mum and Da for your help and words at the party.

Mark, take care of my brother! Thirty years ago he marched (and roller skated in a Habit) through Toronto to get to where you two are today and displayed a tenacity that I wish I had. I am truly greatfull for all the work he’s done and for his stubborn, unrelenting spirit. You are his perfect compliment.

I am proud to call you brother.

I’ve removed the pictures for spacing issues but would be glad to email any to anyone who cares.

George Foreman, My Master

Favorite, Personal Bits

Xmas parties and a wedding loom, so I decide to drag Sharkboy along to Sears to look for fun and flip shirts to wear to these festive events.

“I want a green shirt and a red tie!” I announce.

“My co-worker just threw up in her mouth just a little at that suggestion,” Sharkboy replies.

Through the crowds at The Eaton Centre Sears (Oh bite the bullet and change the g-d name…EATONS IS DEAD!) we make our way into the men’s shirts. After much debate as to what colour to get, I suggest that we measure my neck before going off and getting a shirt that doesnt fit. The zombie clerk, who is visibly unimpressed that she has to actually serve someone, pulls out her tape measure and wraps it around my neck.

“18… 18 1/2… 19… 20,” she says.

I am in shock. Its been a while since Ive bought a dress shirt. I wonder if her chant is actually one big number. Sharkboy looks like he’s going to say something when Zombie clerk cuts him off and pulls me out of my stunned silence:

“You need to go over there,” she points and dismisses me.

Over there is the “Casual Wear” section, subtitled “Big and Tall”

Good lord.

The “fun and flip” concept of a dress shirt/tie combo just flew out the window. At this point I am willing to wear paisley with a striped tie, just dont make me shop in the Big and Tall section!! Sharkboy is light and airy and upbeat as he jokes with the clerk. Easy for him. His neck isnt 1818andahalf1920. Bless him for pointing out that all the posters had humpy Daddy Bears modeling the latest large fashions.

The clerk (who by the way was the best salesperson I have had in years: clever, funny and helpful with the strangest Downunder accent ever–go see her) takes a proper neck and arm measurement and with a flourish, picks out a black shirt from George Foreman. Yes. The punch-drunk boxer has his own line of clothes for the men who, despite grilling the crap out of cheese sandwiches on his bright iMac-esque cookers, cant get their weight under control.

I am ready to race out of there with that shirt (any shirt!), waving my debit card in the clerk’s face while shooting sideway glances to see if anyone I know can see me buying a George Foreman shirt, when Sharkboy says “Try it on!”

Good lord x 2.

I am so eager to get this over with I toss off my sweater right at the cash. Oh no, there are change rooms, sir. The clerk removes all the pins and plastic and scoots me into the first stall. Sharkboy jumps up on the chair in the next and looks over the stall as I try on this shirt.

At a 19-20 collar with 35-36 arm, the shirt came down to just below my knees. And as an added surprise, the button at the collar was attached to an elastic band that allowed the collar to expand.

EXPAND.

I looked like a priest in his robes, ready to preach from the pulpit. All that was missing was the white collar. I had images in my head of gliding serenely into the Xmas party, hands folded, calm smile on my face and blessing the punch.

Thank god for Sharkboy. I would have got home, tried it on, cried like a girl who just found her pic on fatgirlsinpartyhats dot com (dont go there. its no longer the mean spirited parody site) and had to returned the shirt. Eventually we found a shirt that fit my arms and neck.

So. Who’s up for McDonalds for lunch?

Wonderland

Celebs and Media, Personal Bits

This wayWhat would be a pretty cool together-family thing to do? Picnic? Feh. Together travel? Yerrg! Back wax? Hmmm…

No! How about appearing with your dad as extras on your brother’s TV show “This Is Wonderland”? A while back Mike swung it so we could play DAs in a couple scenes. We got up early, made our way to the studios and started the day of hurry up and wait. We got onto the set at 9am (ish) and was told that we were only doing two scenes so nothing tough. Close to 11 hours later we were done. They must have filmed those two scenes from 7 different angles for 5 pages of dialogue.

Regardless, the Assistant Director made sure that Dad and I were doing something while the camera was rolling. We swapped files for the first scene and debated over a point in a folder in the second. Dad’s a natural! At 73, he took some acting lessons and its really pumped up his confidence.

Here are some pics of that event:

Dad and Mike

Dad and Mike share a moment before going on set.

Mike Dad and Me

Mugging for the only camera they’d let us mug at.

Dad and Me at Ones

Could my shoulders be more tense?

Dad and a star

I didnt get her name, but she was electric in the scene. Her “son” played off her nicely.

I am not sure when this will air, I will keep you posted.

If you’ve read my past blog entries you know that I find extra work really boring yet incredibly mystical when the celebs act/move/sneeze on or around you. This day was no different. Thanks Mike for a fantastic day!

Bah humbug

Work

My coworker just asked me about how I celebrate Xmas, to which I replied that I didnt. What followed was a line of questioning like I was on trial. And when I tried to explain myself he interrupted me to tell me that it was “too bad” like I had the blackest heart in all of Whoville.

Sir, I say fuck off, to you and yours. Would he condemn me so quickly if I was Jewish? Because my family is spread across Canada and the UK, I take greater pleasure out of celebrating New Years and other calendar events with friends and whatever family is available than subscribing to your ideal of a perfect Xmas. Plus I am barely religious (hence why I type “Xmas” all the time) so why should I celebrate this mystical birth while paying into the stress of the season?

Yes I do exchange gifts. Yes I do go to Xmas parties with something in hand for the host. I am charitable at this time of year. I am not the original Grinch, you dickwad. I just dont celebrate like you do, so keep your self-righteous attitude and fake sympathy and shove it in your stocking and stop looking down your nose at me. You’ve obviously lost your sense of what Xmas is suppose to be.

Oh and Merry Christmas!

Hammer to Fall

Celebs and Media, Distractions

If I could go back in time to meet myself in grade 9 and was allowed to only say three sentences (or some sort of limitation to the amount of info I could parley), what would I say?

Possibly something like:

Dont worry about what other people think of you, its not worth the energy.

And go see a Queen concert. Trust me on that one.

This time travel fantasy is brought on by watching Live Aid with Sharkboy this weekend. I have never seen Freddy Mercury live (other than his videos) and I am truly regretting it now. I thought his stage antics, incredibly mesmerizing overbite and high energy music stole the Wimbledon show. Queen certainly has stood the test of time over Howard Jones and Nick Kershaw.

Another cool thing about the concert was seeing the audience react to the waves of sound, like a field of wheat being blown rhythmically in the wind. The “clap-clap” to Radio Ga Ga was pretty chilling. Trez Nuremberg with all the hands moving in unison in the air.

If you had a Mullet in the 80s and/or had at least ONE suit jacket with shoulder pads (male or female) I strongly suggest purchasing this DVD. Its dirt cheap and the money is still going to the Live Aid foundation.