I Have Arrived!

Happy Monday y'all...We've made it another week, plugging through Watchman, working comics, clothes and ice cream, and enjoying this 60 degree day here in Mid-December Boston.
The Holiday hits keep on coming, and no punches were pulled at the Watson Street Holiday Fiesta! Last night, my neighbors and I got together with our better halves and enjoyed a little suaree, filled with miniture food, good tunes and some ol' fashioned holiday cheer. Its nice to get to know the people you've been living next to for the past four months, and it felt quite grown up to be at a party that was not focused around drinking and video games...no need to worry, we broke out the N64 late into the evening. Sometimes all it takes is a night of getting to know people over eggnog and shared woes of the landlord to make a place feel a little more like home. Living in the dorm, you not only live with people, but you go to class with them, and eat in the same cafateria...but apartment living yields stairwell passes and the occasional door hold if one is not carefull. Four years ago I moved to Boston with the hopes of making it a second home. Well, eight semesters, seven jobs, two places of residence and a degree later, this place has never felt more like home. One thing they don't tell you on the tours and in the brochures, is that you never lose one home to gain another. With Chicago and Boston under my belt, and while I have no plans of leaving anytime soon, the obvious question is- where to next? With 60 degree days in December (we always seem to start where we end up don't we?) and some early afternoon sales at the shop, life is looking good. And I've even got my moms cookies to look forward to next week. cheers --d

Christmas, comics and crab rangoons... (not in that order)

Happy Monday...it is a rare Monday off for this post-grad, and after some Chinese food delivery, a little Love Actually and a fear of the 15 degree reading on the online thermostat, I've retreated to my bed for a bit of pondering.
"Christmas is all around..." Yesterday, Sunday- it was the first long-lasting snow of the season. A constant flurry whipped around landing anywhere but the ground for the better part of the morning. A setting fit for a slow walk through Cambridge, from Central to Harvard Sq, on a mission for crepes, gifts, and shared memories. There are certain elements of my life that have shifted instantly from one step to the next, "MTV editing" as my old film professor coined for the type of editing that is quick and unforgiving. The acquisition of bills. the compounding responsibility of scheduling your own classes, doctor's appointments...life. But there are other, far more abstract elements that change slowly as my life moves onward. My appreciation for the holidays is one of those tracking-shot type changes.
Each year I wake up on the brighter side of early- the morning after Thanksgiving- and head out to the Christmas Tree Farm for a little do-it-yourself pine cutting. We drag the tree three agonizing quarters of a mile back to the van, place it in the tree vibrator, freeing the dead needles from the ride home strapped to the hood of the Odyssey. Christmas music ensues and a day of tree lighting and ordainment hanging is upon us. As a middle "too cool for" schooler - this was a day I'd much rather spend on the sledding hill, or in the middle of an epic clash between aged high schoolers and us of youth on the snow ball battlefield. Not understanding the importance this day had on my poor mother, waiting for me to grow up and not only appease her, but truly appreciate that which the holidays have always provided...tradition, shared experience, appreciation for a year of work, and damn good cookies.
Well this year, the morning after Thanksgiving left me dozing on a train, city-bound for a day of work. No complaints there...just...not tradition. I didn't think much of it until I was in the middle of bringing home my first, very own Christmas tree. Now, a Christmas tree is never just one's own. It is my girlfriend's, my roommate's, her boyfriend's, and everyone else's who comes by between now and when we all head to our homes, for a taste of aged tradition. But until then...we're making it up as we go along, and I could not have asked for anything more. After yesterday's snowy adventure, there were cookies, there was music, icing, decorating, laughing, crashing on the couch for Christmas movies...new tradition.
I haven't seen any new films in the past week, or done much reading, though I have made a serious dent in The Watchman. It's my second tour through Alan Moore's earth shattering 1985 graphic novel. An old boss/current friend of mine is itching to borrow it, so I must make my way in haste. The piece has been optioned for a film, and is due for release in March, Moore has completely removed himself from the project. Avid readers of this blog may remember a thesis I wrote (and often reflected on here) regarding the philosophy of film. It was a concept that I explored, attempting to pinpoint the importance of film in the development of our subjective reality. In the spirit of my own past studies, I am having a hard time accepting the film as something valid, seeing as its source's creater has declaired that his novel could not be reproduced in any other medium. Regardless, The Watchman is about to impact a whole new audience...though the orginal commentary on mid 1980's global politics, the essence of the super hero and the eternal question "Who Watches Thw Watchmen?" will most likely be lost behind 300-esque effects. Bitter? Not in the least...I'll be first in line, March 8th - midnight. See you there.

got milk?

Happy Monday...as I come off an enjoyable holiday weekend I am overwhelmed with the influence of this minute's hottest pop culture.
I've breached the cover of Junot Diaz's wildly popular novel starring nerd-galore, Oscar. While I am only 49pgs into The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao - I am enthralled by the blend of Dominican-geek-teenager despair that makes up the self-deprecating main character. I'll provide a more comprehensive commentary when I've finished the story - for now, I can say that I was hooked by the comic/"speculitive genre" refrences, but have stayed for the eerie insights into universal adolecence that Diaz has proposed.
Two pieces of art I can fully commnet on are but the new Bond film, and the indie - Milk.
22 films strong, the Bond franchise is something I grew up on. Coupled with Jean-Luc Picard, Bond was the epitmity of cool at age 12. (X-Men was another childhood infactuation, so you can imagine the excitment my inner/very much outer kid experienced watching Patrick Stewart portray Professor Charles Xavior in not one, but three X-films.) Bronsan (Goldeneye) was the first Bond I saw, Connery, the best. Though my favorite film would have to be Licence to Kill starring Timothy Dalton.
Quantum of Solace brought Bond back for revenge...and as a revenge film, it hit all the marks. But as Bond film, we were missing some serious plot-points, things you come to expect from 007. (One of which not being The Dame Judy Dench reprising her role as M...a show-thief if I've ever seen one.) Not a once, did we hear those immortal words, "Bond, James Bond." Gadget Extrodinare, Q was no where to be found, and the "shaken, not stirred" emphasis was minimal at best. Though, we did have our Bond girls...no complaints there.
Daniel Craig has brought a personallity to the character in the sence that Bond is invested in his missions as more than mere assignments, thought without the Bond traditions, expectations are sorely not met. Again, good revenge flick, but as a modern instlament of the MI6 architype...I'm left wanting to pop in the dvds just to rekindle my faith in 007.
Milk...a film I knew very little about, always a tight-rope situation. Until last night, I would adamantly claim Fast Times at Ridgemont High to be Sean Penn's greatest film...what can I say, I have a soft spot for Mr. Hand, piano key scarves and Forrest Whitaker. Portraying Harvey Milk, Penn truly captured the essence and energy of the politcal figure. The entire casting was spot on, it was nice to see James Franco do something a bit more interesting than his as-of-late-slapstick, and Emile Hirsch is becoming one the most versitile actors of my generation (note- Alphadog.) The splicing of actual footage with what was filmed for the picture was done well, and Danny Elfman's music brought the final project together.
So what am I thankful for? Good art, inspiration, the beautiful day here in Boston that is allowing me to keep the door open at work, Spicoli, El Triunfo...the greatest tacos in town, and they've just arrived - cheers. --d