Speaking of Chinese accomplishments...

Hobs forwarded this over to me. A nice interface I think for my Popo's favorite piece of art. It doesn't look like it at first, but it's a great segue for testing whether or not her grandchildren remember World War II.

I'm trying to find those one-wheel carriage things I keep hearing about.

802

That’s the number of items rated on my account in Netflix. It’s a tally not so much from enjoying rating things (though click click refresh is a easy way to burn time and I do enjoy it), but the hope that whatever recommendation algorithm lurks behind may leads me to something interesting. Of course, with the inherent limitations of 5-star rating systems, the internet’s grade inflations, etc…

As I am of the anal and tedious sort, I’d like a two tier rating system for the quality of work and enjoyment factor. For example:

• Willow: 2, paint-by-numbers serial; 5, Mad Martigan earns undisguised love
• Lost in Translation: 4-5, good notes from the WKW class, great Bill Murray; 1, accomplished craft in the service of solipsism earns outright disgust
  

Well, maybe I do enjoy being judgmental more than most (and that’s why I’m anonymous on the internet). But Izicmo has mentioned something more useful. She advocates for the addition of a 2.5 rating. It’s meant for compelling mediocrity (Born Into Brothels, great kids, great story. Also, the Rough Guide to Poverty) or weakly received craft (Behind the Sun, possibly the prettiest movie ever. Thin as a sliver).

But all that’s a massive tangent bulking up the one item I wanted to blog. After you return something to Netflix, if you haven’t rated it, the website will ask you to rate the sucker and get two recommendations. The first result seems to actually be tied directly to the rating, the second's relationship probably being more diffuse usually results in a generic rec. I returned the first disc of Freaks and Geeks and gave it a 2 when asked.* Thusly, computron said, seek ye Red Dwarf and Band of Brothers. The first is pretty spot on, sloppy black humor being something of the opposite of Apatow’s verve. I decided to like and love the thing instead, but sadly failed to note what should’ve been my heart’s desire (Sunset Boulevard is the agreeable second pick). No, not 40-year-old Virgin. I did note what hate wrought. What am I guaranteed to love with the certification of hate to 70’s high school misfits? This. Ha!

* It’s well made, and has a lot going for it (even as I think it’s obvious why it didn’t hit). Man was I bored.

A dog, a pig, a chicken, and a horse. And not one of them makes money.

I've been playing Harvest Moon: Magical Melody of late. You play a m/f new landowner in Flower Bud village (I suggest the river estate and farming for income first, livestock's not worth it). And then you proceed to farm, mine, fish, or what have you. Or, there's some boondoogle about ressurecting the Harvest Goddess or something--but growing corn, that's where it's at. It's video game farming, more or less as close as I'm going or wanting to get to that sort of exertion.

You make money by shipping items, and what you ship attracts people and businesses to the village. Ship ore, a blacksmith might come, and so on. The trouble is, people move out if they're not happy or get no business. But you are the lone supplier and customer it seems. I spend all my time watering crops, brushing my animals, and giving gifts to the lovely ladies of the village (in hopes of getting married and getting farm help). And the fisherman, the mayor, the atelier(!). And mean, androgynous Jamie. Only Woody the old woodsman seems happy enough not to move away.

I feel put upon. Why am I alone, the economic lynchpin of this whole town? Responsible for everyone's emotional well being? Isn't there some sort of incentive zoning the mayor could pull? Can't the people form a bridge club? My horse doesn't even pull a plow, and I got fields to water too. A scrappy, young go-getter like myself should be off to the big city, but all the opportunities there are related to crime or raising fighting cocks. Ah well, the big city's just not ready for me yet.

Alternate takes: Civil War

Civil War (for those of you who aren't Danny Don't) was Marvel's last event crossover where a disaster amongst superpowered beings prompted the US gov't to enact registration laws--an arguable "realistic" idea and really a pretty good one for a story. So all the superfolks line up for and against, and this being about superheros, punch their way to resolution. Along the way, Captain America starts recruiting sociopaths, Iron Man connives like Lex Luthor, Venom gets pupils, and I ponder who're the idiots who had to approve Clor. Basically, a good idea executed even worse than expected, which is to say, clumsier than having the drug czar's daughter in Traffic sell herself to the representative young/black man/inner city menace, who thankfully didn't talk jive like drug dealers in 21 Jump Street. Actually, Civil War's not that bad if you think of Tony Stark as Rhett Butler and Steve Rodgers as Scarlett O'Hara..."Frankly, Captain America, I don't give a damn." Spider-Man is Ashely and Reed Richards is codependent Mammy.* Except, I guess, the South wins.**

Anyway, it's just been revealed to much fanboy whinging, that instead of Loki or Iron Man himself, the whole fracas might've been instigated by the shape-shifting other known as Skrulls. A pretty weak idea. In the course of lamenting it, though, a Newsarama commenter describes the bad idea in the form of what I think is a great idea.

Suddenly, Skrulls!

If I was one of those folks with inclination, I'd photoshop a fake Broadway sign with that phrase, lights around it like 42nd Street or Ziegfeld Follies. I know it'd be hard in comic book form but Marvel should sure as hell make its next crossover a musical if it can.


* This might not make sense if you've read the book or watched the movie, of which I've done neither. It amuses me though.
** Until the Hulk, representing the economic and industrial might of more developed North, smashes. World War Hulk indeed. My next rpg character's gotta be named Sherman Hulk.

T Minus 10

Izicmo and her classmates at SVA just finished their first year, and have put on a show that I heartily endorse to those interested in graphic design (the thesis show is probably a good bet too). They're about social issues as toylines, in attractive packaging and done with more than occasional wit. Even the weakest ones have one or two items that are contenders for great ideas.

The good, the bad, and the not quite there as general categories are pretty much universal amongst most observers*. But final rankings end up may be exercises in taste, and it’s in the nitpicking that all the interesting talk happens.

My own contributions to such discussions are influenced by one of the quirks in my thinking, my faux-laymanism (what a terrible sounding –ism. I’ll replace it later.) Basically, there are a few exhibits that are middlebrow—as a category, not a pejorative. Meaning, hot topics the way “racism is bad” and “babies are cute” are hot topics. Nothing no one can’t get behind. I don’t mind that, though the thing is, if you present me a topic that don’t think I’m an expert in (as in virtually anything)**, and I think of something I don’t hear/or see commented on or considered, or in this case presented, then I think you didn’t try too hard. I’m pretty accepting of earnestness these days, just not lazy thinking. That’s pretty much what middlebrow is to me…anything I go with “yeah, and?” to. Still, I feel a little guilty when my judgment is more or less a huffy "not as smart as me."

My other tweak, and this is probably obvious, is that I prefer concept over execution, such that marginally different things, like the dim idea crappily executed, I find better than the no idea beautifully rendered. (I gather that the one I took as a dim exhibit may also have been a no idea one. But you got to give the participants authorial intent, or else you’re playing inside baseball—which isn't really part of this exercise and is playing off personality rather than work). So your reach can exceed your grasp, if you’ve got the nerves to talk something interesting. At least it'll be interesting.

I’m purposely not being too specific about the exhibits, because, well, there’s nineteen of them and I’m lazy and if you can you should see for yourselves. And if comic reviews are kinda awkward without pics, then this is an even steeper hill unless I turn it into a Slate shopping guide or I'll have to focus on one. May'be I'll try (oooh, another one for the wishful thinking bucket). Anyway, my criteria doesn't necessarily give you the best of graphic design (communication as creative problem solving?), but I do think my favorite of the exhibition, “Lone”, happens to be the most successful one too. Great execution coupled with subtle concepts. It should be a contender for everybody’s best, if not favorite.

If you folks check it out, look out for "Lone", the vinyl siding costume, the foie gras duck backpack (even if hanging them on the ceiling fan is a misfire), and the slutty virgin mary***, and give “Gloomy” time to grow on you.

* Of the sophisticated crew I was with. The rest of you unless I know you or you agree with me are all philistines.
** Except the Guardians of the Galaxy. I even wrote letters. One even got printed.
*** Bit of a gimme. But then, given the persistence of the Madonna/Whore thing, blunt is probably best.

I went to edit some spacing...

And just lost about 400 words out of my Hikaru No Go post.

I already miss it.

EDIT: God bless Google cache. Good for me, bad for you, my one reader, as if I ever attempted to retype it, it would probably have been shorter and more coherent.

man in a bed, bug in a bed

Festivities in my family were at the Pennyslvania branch this year. We just lost gift-giving (my family gatherings get big, and the financial strain combine with our generally creeping age knocked out a half-hearted practice as it was), and post Christmas eve pot-luck buffet (especially good this year, I think. Popo's scallion pancakes being fresher than usual.), my cousins and I, the nearly all post-college kids table, were left to our devices for entertainment.* The tradition is now a game of Pictionary, which I've come to enjoy in creeping fashion, despite losing every time. Wasn't much of a fan when it started, actually, but who wants to rain on the parade? Anyway, we didn't have the board game itself this time, but scrounged up a die, a timer from Balderdash or something, and pez dispensers (Batman, C3PO, and Kermit) for pieces while someone studiously made a paper board. Then we all made "cards", 3 objects, 3 person or place, 3 difficult, and 3 all play.** Good times.

It's not in any particular order, though the first one did come first. We allowed "with", which is a freaking preposition, and we did discard a few which either seemed to hard or the picker didn't recognize. George Clooney and durian respectively, though the former doesn't seem that bad. Here's what we ran with:

Auctioning Parents' Antique Collection
kafka
with
dangerous
sneeze
margaret cho
IMing
neither
pictionary
3rd reich
cleopatra
picasso
pale
endangered species
white lies
mr. miagi
buddhism
jane goodall
whine
wharf
mortgage
Christmas tree



*We tried to start a poker game for Popo money, but I admit to being one of the ones unwilling to commit to that.
**I'm not sure we actually know the rules, not that that matters much. But you pair up (evens anyway), and whoever rolls highest goes first. The team that has a turn then pulls a card from the deck (hat). One person draws, which alternates (or is whoever didn't write the item in question) while the other person guesses, hopefully correctly, before time runs out. Occasionally you'll get an "All Play" card or a regular one with an all play symbol, which means every team goes without a timer, and whoever guesses first wins and rolls the die and moves. Everyone waits their turn, but the last space has to be reached exactly, and you have to win an All Play.

Obviously, the plan was flawed.

Hmm...starting a blog thing in the middle of holidays seems to not have panned out. I did have a series of preplanned posts to keep content up, but the lack of timeliness took the fervor out, and any other posts would be about how the other night, I tripped on the flat broad surface that is the street, and walked down the street shamefacedly, and then a car drove by and the people inside laughed at me. True story that.

Didn't anyone get presents to present blog or something? I got a lovely toiletry bag, which is something I needed. The family actually decided no presents, starting this year, so what we got was technically illegal. That and a red pouch from grandma.