Put four experienced improvisers in a room and you'll have five different theories on how it works. (But they'll never argue.) The two main schools are: Follow the rules! and Rules are bad! Within each school there are a multitude of factions. What rules to follow? How to follow them? How to learn them? If you are to follow no rules, how do you achieve that? How do you learn something with no rules? Or are you learning the rules but only by example the way children pick up language.
The odd thing is, if you put a "Follow the Rules" improviser on stage with a "No Rules!" improviser, you are no more or less likely to get a good scene. The outcome is not so much to do with the underlying ethos, but the interaction between the two performers. Each performer will find the theory that works best to explain the way that they perceive the underlying system. But on stage they will play and support their partners just the same.
Other people's theories are very interesting because they show you a little how they think about performing and give you a new perspective.
"Improvise: Scene from Inside and Out" is the book of the theories of Mick Napier, founder of Annoyance Theatre and Resident Director of The Second City. He belongs to the no-rules school, believing it is best not to teach rules for improv as it gives people things to think about when they should not be thinking. He does, however, offer guidelines of things to avoid but stresses to apply them without thinking about them.
The book is not very thick, but this is mostly due to Mr Napier's succint style. Not for hom the flowing prose and endless examples. He makes his point and moves on. Mr Napier's theory applies more to the teaching of children or for people well able to practice extensively, in my opinion. But his dismantalling of the importance of the rules is very interesting. It tallies with my theory (of course I have one) in that there really is only one rule, and all the rest are guidelines.
One of the most interesting chapters, and actually annoyingly short, is the one on Improvisation and the Second Law of Thermodynamics. I would love to see this expanded to really explore the analogy. There is a whole book in this idea, I think. The other useful thing is a list of exercises to do on your own at home. I found I have already been doing them for years, but it was nice to feel that I wasn't mad. Or at least not alone.
The other book I have been reading on the subject is "Musical Improv Comedy" by Michael Pollock. Mr Pollock is Musical Director of The Second City, LA, so probably knows Mr Napier quite well. Mr Pollock does not come to us with a theory. He comes with a slightly thinner book and a CD full to the brim. Instead of theories, you get a practical guide on everything music improv. Despite the thinness of the book, it really does cover everything. And with the minimum of fuss and nonsense. Where the real content is on the CD. It has over [an hour and a half] of excellent examples and sample music for you to practice song styles and techniques with. In that respect it well is worth the asking price. There are about 10 examples of different musical styles which you could easily use in a show if you don't have a musician. (PS I do not advise doing musical improv without a musician. It's usually the musician that makes the singers look good.)
As a student of improv, I urge you to read a little on the subject, and go to see as much of it as possible. "Musical Improv Comedy" is great for groups who want to get into doing (more) musical improv and "Improvise: Scene from Inside and Out" is interesting for those who want to explore the world of improvised theatre in relation to modern theories of energy or who like to improvise best in the shower.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Saturday, December 04, 2004
Gay Day
Early in August occurs one of the year's most fun days - The Gay Parade. This is when Amsterdam's gay community (and friends) gets together in gangs and each gang commandeers a boat, decorates it (and themselves) as flamboyantly (or as nakedly) as possible and cruises down several of the canals. The rest of the city lines the canals and watches, waves and cheers. Come late and it's hard to find a spot to see from. The sides of the canals are mobbed.
It's a fun day and there are remarkably few police to be seen despite there being so many people around. This is testament to the complete good-naturedness of the day. There's never trouble. There is frequent outbreak of same-sex kissing. And the only thing that gets thrown at you is condoms.
The party lasts on into the night. Stages erected around the city blast out dance music and kitsch classics. Bars overflow into the streets, the streets overflow into alleyways. Loud happy music is everywhere. Ironically, the grounds of churches seem to be the places the best parties are set up.
Later on there are more police to be seen, but it's not always easy to spot them. Especially the motorcycle cops who are just another group of guys in uniforms and leather trousers.
I finished the day with a beer in the middle of a street surrounded by drunken, exuberant lesbians. Amsterdam is a great city.
The best bit about the day was that we went their by boat. By far the best way to get anywhere. I am fortunate to know a few people who either own boats or have access to them. And, on a nice summer evening, there is nowhere better to be than out on a canal in an open-top boat.
It's a fun day and there are remarkably few police to be seen despite there being so many people around. This is testament to the complete good-naturedness of the day. There's never trouble. There is frequent outbreak of same-sex kissing. And the only thing that gets thrown at you is condoms.
The party lasts on into the night. Stages erected around the city blast out dance music and kitsch classics. Bars overflow into the streets, the streets overflow into alleyways. Loud happy music is everywhere. Ironically, the grounds of churches seem to be the places the best parties are set up.
Later on there are more police to be seen, but it's not always easy to spot them. Especially the motorcycle cops who are just another group of guys in uniforms and leather trousers.
I finished the day with a beer in the middle of a street surrounded by drunken, exuberant lesbians. Amsterdam is a great city.
Parade
Coinciding with the above, but unrelated, is Parade. It's a Dutch word, so remember the rule: if it looks like an English word, it is pronounced very differently. Par-rah'-da. It's a touring mini festival, a bit like a theatre circus, that sets itself in the major cities for a few weeks at a time before moving on. You pay a little to get in and it's like a festival - with food stalls, bars and amusements. Then you can pay a little more and get into one of the mini-theatres and watch some local artiste(s) doing their thing. The only piece I saw was called Vlieg (Fly). It was about (in as much as it was about anything) a man who wakes up and finds he is possessed by a fly. He buzzes a lot, has sex with a fridge which produces an egg which he drops. Then he flies around the room on a wire. It was more entertaining and less bizarre than it sounds. Mainly because the chap doing it was very engaging.The best bit about the day was that we went their by boat. By far the best way to get anywhere. I am fortunate to know a few people who either own boats or have access to them. And, on a nice summer evening, there is nowhere better to be than out on a canal in an open-top boat.
Book Review: UFOs Are Coming Wednesday by Eric Sykes
Eric Sykes is a great screenwriter. The writer for many shows, as well as short and long films. Star of his own series and director of several films, notably great silent shorts such as The Plank and Rhubarb.
But for some reason, it didn't translate into books. It failed to be more than mildly amusing, it failed to be original, the characters failed to be interesting and it failed to drag me in. I gave up.
I don't often give up on books. Normally I plow on. Taking forever to get to the end, plodding through in grim determination because part of me is interested in it. I think the last time I did give up on a book was Lord of the Rings part 1 when I was quite young. It is a long and complicatedly written book that is not accessible for kids. Even kids such as myself who had lapped up The Hobbit. So I put it aside thinking I'd go back when older. 20 years later, I have seen the film of the book, and can happily say that has satisfied me in that department. The book is just too long to embark on (and that's just the 1st part). UFOs Are Coming Wednesday doesn't have that excuse, but demonstrates the new less-patient me in action.
In short: don't buy this book. Rent a copy of The Plank instead.
But for some reason, it didn't translate into books. It failed to be more than mildly amusing, it failed to be original, the characters failed to be interesting and it failed to drag me in. I gave up.
I don't often give up on books. Normally I plow on. Taking forever to get to the end, plodding through in grim determination because part of me is interested in it. I think the last time I did give up on a book was Lord of the Rings part 1 when I was quite young. It is a long and complicatedly written book that is not accessible for kids. Even kids such as myself who had lapped up The Hobbit. So I put it aside thinking I'd go back when older. 20 years later, I have seen the film of the book, and can happily say that has satisfied me in that department. The book is just too long to embark on (and that's just the 1st part). UFOs Are Coming Wednesday doesn't have that excuse, but demonstrates the new less-patient me in action.
In short: don't buy this book. Rent a copy of The Plank instead.
Saturday, November 27, 2004
Geen Hand
One of the big talking points here regards the visit of a minister with several Islamic church leaders in order to help ease the divisions between Moslims and other citizens. During the visit, one Iman refused to shake hands with the minister because she was a woman. Talk about not helping yourself. In a land where shaking hands is a normal greeting, it just adds to the not-integrating argument. It's seems quite a crazy thing to do in one of the most emancipated countries in the world. But people with prejudices, even those with prejudices backed up by religious and/or cultural norms, seem odd to those of us who think there is no harm in shaking a woman's hand.
But this does not seem typical of Muslims in the Netherlands. It is the actions of an old man whose life is completely defined by his religion. For most other people it is a layer that has the society in which they live laid over the top. In fact most people's bottom layer is informed by their religion, but this is also modified by what they really believe in, which does not always correspond to the written words of their chosen religion.
But this does not seem typical of Muslims in the Netherlands. It is the actions of an old man whose life is completely defined by his religion. For most other people it is a layer that has the society in which they live laid over the top. In fact most people's bottom layer is informed by their religion, but this is also modified by what they really believe in, which does not always correspond to the written words of their chosen religion.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
Apology Accepted
For those of you (outside the US) who were surprised (and upset) at the result of the recent US election, there is www.sorryeverybody.com. It's quite amusing, but serious in its intent.
And as on the web for every action there is an equal but not always apposite reaction, there is... www.werenotsorry.com. This isn't a spoof but a reaction and is not so amusing. But it's a great site for finding pictures of people with guns.
And as on the web for every action there is an equal but not always apposite reaction, there is... www.werenotsorry.com. This isn't a spoof but a reaction and is not so amusing. But it's a great site for finding pictures of people with guns.
Friday, November 19, 2004
Twin Evils
According to the Metro (free paper on the trains and metros) yesterday, the top three searches on Dutch search engines this month are: Theo van Gogh, Terrorism and Georgina Verbaan. Theo van Gogh was the guy shot a couple of weeks ago by a religious nut. Terrorism is the current world threat since the last strongholds of Communism collapsed and giant asteroids failed to appear. Georgina Verbaan has just appeared in Playboy with her recently enlarged breasts. She claims it happened due to the pill. Certainly since their growth and their subsequent appearance in Playboy, the newspapers have been full of stories about her. If only every career had a pill that could help it. The pill will also prevent Georgina from breeding for a while, so there is a benefit for us as well.
The Metro today announces that 174 Million Chinese are unemployed. Now as a percentage, this is something like 6 or 7 percent - not so many, but it serves as a reminder that in China statistics are less interesting than real figures. For example if you have a product that only 1% of the population likes, that's still 12 million people. Not bad for being statistically unpopular.
Georgina - Theo - Typical Terrorists
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Book Review: The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Probably the best-known of all of Sherlock Holme's adventures, it's the tale of an old legend which begins to have deadly consequences for inheritors of an estate. Not very original, and probably not even so 100 years ago, whenn it was written. But of course, there is no dark magic, only a master criminal at work. Even this has been done to death since, most notably by Messrs Hanna and Barbarra, creators of Scooby Doo.
I'm glad Sir Arthur resisted the urge to bring in a younger, (supposedly) hipper assistant unlike Messrs Hanna and Barbarra. The exciting adventures of Scraplock Holmes never made it to press.
But it's always good to check in with the world's most popular detective. he's not as clever as the myth surrounding him suggests. But maybe he is more cautious in his later stories. In some of the early ones, he can tell all sorts of things from a coupld of scratches on a piece of wood. Things modern forensics would have trouble telling you.
Sherlock also lays off the drugs for the duration of this story. Something Scooby Doo could never manage.
I'm glad Sir Arthur resisted the urge to bring in a younger, (supposedly) hipper assistant unlike Messrs Hanna and Barbarra. The exciting adventures of Scraplock Holmes never made it to press.
But it's always good to check in with the world's most popular detective. he's not as clever as the myth surrounding him suggests. But maybe he is more cautious in his later stories. In some of the early ones, he can tell all sorts of things from a coupld of scratches on a piece of wood. Things modern forensics would have trouble telling you.
Sherlock also lays off the drugs for the duration of this story. Something Scooby Doo could never manage.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
8/10/04, Cabrillo and San Diego Park + Museum
If Florida is America’s Wang (According to the Homer Simpson - they prefer the “Sunshine State”, apparently) then Cabrillo is America’s Coccyx. Anatomically speaking. But in this case, there is no additional metaphor involved. Cabrillo is a nature reserve, military cemetery and celebrates the first European to set foot on Western American soil.
On a clear day, unlike what we had, you get a good view of the airbase and of the spiky downtown area.
At the heart of San Diego is Balbao park. It’s America's largest urban cultural park. Or so it ways on the web site. It has dozens of museums, historical buildings, friendship gardens, zoos, IMAX cinema, theatres and an organ pavillion.
In the Museum of San Diego History there was a special exhibit celebrating San Diego in the movies. San Diego has a long history of being in the movies because it’s close to LA and has landscape and beaches and an airbase perfect for war films. Pretty much every major beach landing seems to have been recreated for the cinema on San Diego’s beaches. It was the home of the Top Gun academy at the time of the movie that made Tom Cruise what he is today (whatever that is). The exhibit also pointed out that hotel Del Coronado was used as the backdrop in Con Faldas Yo La Loco, better known as Some Like It Hot (see elsewhere) and the buildings in San Diego Park were used as the exteriors of Xanadu, the home of Citizen Kane. But most famous of all, it seems is the location for the whole of the Attack of the Killer Tomatoes series.
On a clear day, unlike what we had, you get a good view of the airbase and of the spiky downtown area.
At the heart of San Diego is Balbao park. It’s America's largest urban cultural park. Or so it ways on the web site. It has dozens of museums, historical buildings, friendship gardens, zoos, IMAX cinema, theatres and an organ pavillion.
In the Museum of San Diego History there was a special exhibit celebrating San Diego in the movies. San Diego has a long history of being in the movies because it’s close to LA and has landscape and beaches and an airbase perfect for war films. Pretty much every major beach landing seems to have been recreated for the cinema on San Diego’s beaches. It was the home of the Top Gun academy at the time of the movie that made Tom Cruise what he is today (whatever that is). The exhibit also pointed out that hotel Del Coronado was used as the backdrop in Con Faldas Yo La Loco, better known as Some Like It Hot (see elsewhere) and the buildings in San Diego Park were used as the exteriors of Xanadu, the home of Citizen Kane. But most famous of all, it seems is the location for the whole of the Attack of the Killer Tomatoes series.
I say “attack of the killer tomatoes,” you say “attack of the killer tomatoes.”
A Typical Organ pavillion
Typical San Diego Street Scene
14/10/04, Los Angeles
The drive up to LA from, er, SD, takes a couple of hours. The road is wide and full of cars. Americans follow the Chinese road policy of, ‘once you are in a lane, stick to it, no matter what your speed. If you have to overtake, pick whichever side is clearest.’ Where Americans stray from the Chinese way is that the (hard) shoulder is not to be driven in, even in times of congestion.
In LA, there is 1 car for every 1.4 people. On the roads approaching it, it is more like 1.1. Nearly every car has just one occupant. You can see this by the fact that we were one of the few cars in the car-pooling lane. We had two people in ours.
It used to be that the car-pooling lane was for cars with 3 or more people, but it was under used. So they lowered the number to 2. Still it was underused. Now there is an electronic toll system, which means people who are alone in their car, can use the car-pool lane, but pay a fee every time they do. It’s still under used.
Well, maybe an oil crisis will sort that one out.
LA is a big sprawling mass. It has districts the size of towns. We started off at the famous Santa Monica Pier. Like piers everywhere, it’s heyday was many summers ago, and it is now faded and a little seedy. Some things, are universal.
We drove around the more prestigious areas, where the houses are big and hidden behind big walls. Beverly Hills, Bel Air, Et Cetera. It’s where the stars and their lawyers live.
In the shops you can buy maps showing the houses of the famous. Stalking is too easy here - not to mention the sheer number of stalkable people. There are even tours which take you to see the places of the rich and famous. Just the outside, of course. It’s all a little disturbing. But, armed with one of these maps and a subscription to a movie magazine - so that you know which films are being shot abroad and with which stars - it is easy to pick the best houses to squat.
Obviously we saw a few of the must-see items, including Mann’s Chinese Theater - the premiere premiere movie theatre. We also saw a few of the star paving-slabs, which feature the names of movie people both famous and sometimes obscure or forgotten. There isn’t a panel that chooses people, rather it’s done by petition. The road is long and you only have to see a few to get the gist. I didn’t see it except in the newspaper, but apparently on the Christopher Reeve one someone had left some flowers, which I think is just an accident waiting to happen.
Dinner was in a Cuban restaurant with awesome Mojitos. I have a feeling enjoying Cuban cocktails constitutes moral turpitude, so I better not say any more about it.
In LA, there is 1 car for every 1.4 people. On the roads approaching it, it is more like 1.1. Nearly every car has just one occupant. You can see this by the fact that we were one of the few cars in the car-pooling lane. We had two people in ours.
It used to be that the car-pooling lane was for cars with 3 or more people, but it was under used. So they lowered the number to 2. Still it was underused. Now there is an electronic toll system, which means people who are alone in their car, can use the car-pool lane, but pay a fee every time they do. It’s still under used.
Well, maybe an oil crisis will sort that one out.
LA is a big sprawling mass. It has districts the size of towns. We started off at the famous Santa Monica Pier. Like piers everywhere, it’s heyday was many summers ago, and it is now faded and a little seedy. Some things, are universal.
We drove around the more prestigious areas, where the houses are big and hidden behind big walls. Beverly Hills, Bel Air, Et Cetera. It’s where the stars and their lawyers live.
In the shops you can buy maps showing the houses of the famous. Stalking is too easy here - not to mention the sheer number of stalkable people. There are even tours which take you to see the places of the rich and famous. Just the outside, of course. It’s all a little disturbing. But, armed with one of these maps and a subscription to a movie magazine - so that you know which films are being shot abroad and with which stars - it is easy to pick the best houses to squat.
Obviously we saw a few of the must-see items, including Mann’s Chinese Theater - the premiere premiere movie theatre. We also saw a few of the star paving-slabs, which feature the names of movie people both famous and sometimes obscure or forgotten. There isn’t a panel that chooses people, rather it’s done by petition. The road is long and you only have to see a few to get the gist. I didn’t see it except in the newspaper, but apparently on the Christopher Reeve one someone had left some flowers, which I think is just an accident waiting to happen.
Dinner was in a Cuban restaurant with awesome Mojitos. I have a feeling enjoying Cuban cocktails constitutes moral turpitude, so I better not say any more about it.
Monday, November 15, 2004
Hij Komt.
This Sunday the streets were clogged with children and their guardians. They were lining the streets to greet a gang of unconvincing black men and their leader, a man in a dress. These guys are from Spain, and if children have not been good, they go back to Spain with them in a bag. This is Sinterklaas, the Spanish priest who was repackaged and sold to the world at large as Santa Claus. The blacked-up white guys represent Piet, full name Zwarte Piet (Black Pete), his ‘helper.’
Anyone who comes from anywhere else in the world is always either perturbed or shocked at the Piet character. Or rather the fact that to represent him, otherwise liberal-minded men smear boot polish on their faces and dance around crazily. But it is all done in naïve innocence rather than with any malice. But still, there is offence to be taken and I know of at least one international school which tries to steer the practice in less murky waters by having Bonte Piet (Coloured Piet) where all of the faces are painted in all the different colours). But whatever colour he is, he is the one the kids prefer. Sinterklaas is the dignified cleric, whereas Piet is the one who doles out the sweets.
That's quite enough pictures like that. Strange country.
Anyone who comes from anywhere else in the world is always either perturbed or shocked at the Piet character. Or rather the fact that to represent him, otherwise liberal-minded men smear boot polish on their faces and dance around crazily. But it is all done in naïve innocence rather than with any malice. But still, there is offence to be taken and I know of at least one international school which tries to steer the practice in less murky waters by having Bonte Piet (Coloured Piet) where all of the faces are painted in all the different colours). But whatever colour he is, he is the one the kids prefer. Sinterklaas is the dignified cleric, whereas Piet is the one who doles out the sweets.
That's quite enough pictures like that. Strange country.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
The Netherlands: Theo van Gogh
Things are a little crazy here right now. Not Côte d’Ivoire crazy (civil war) but America crazy (frightened, irrational public). The trigger for this (if you will excuse the expression) is the shooting (and stabbing) of columnist, documentary filmmaker and champion smoker, Theo van Gogh. It was a horrible and shocking murder on the streets where he lived.
The fall-out has almost been as shocking as the murder - including bombs and arson in Islamic schools, presumed to be the work of racist groups. The arrested suspect was a Moroccan member of a fundamentalist Islamic group and it has heightened the tensions surrounding the growing Islamic population here. Muslims were a common target of Theo.
Theo was often provocative, even sometimes just downright racist and insulting, but his murder is shocking in a country where people really do believe in freedom of speech. The Dutch attitude is let everyone speak and people will make their own minds up and ignore anything that’s stupid.
Exactly like Pim Fortuyn before him, upon his death, Theo van Gogh has changed from being someone who was charismatic yet provocative to sometimes uncomfortable levels, to being an heroic martyr. And far from being silenced, there is now nothing but talk of him and his work. His films - in particular Submission, about the lack of voice for traditional Muslim women - are being shown again. Similarly, Pim Fortuyn’s party won more seats in the election just after his murder than it probably would have had he lived.
After over a week, things have calmed down, but there are still tensions. And it has been a week where the ugly sides of life have been seen. Of people turned evil by an inability to reconcile the values around them with that of their over-consuming devotion to their own system of belief and of people turned evil through anger and pre-formed hatred.
More comedy soon. Please.
The fall-out has almost been as shocking as the murder - including bombs and arson in Islamic schools, presumed to be the work of racist groups. The arrested suspect was a Moroccan member of a fundamentalist Islamic group and it has heightened the tensions surrounding the growing Islamic population here. Muslims were a common target of Theo.
Theo was often provocative, even sometimes just downright racist and insulting, but his murder is shocking in a country where people really do believe in freedom of speech. The Dutch attitude is let everyone speak and people will make their own minds up and ignore anything that’s stupid.
Exactly like Pim Fortuyn before him, upon his death, Theo van Gogh has changed from being someone who was charismatic yet provocative to sometimes uncomfortable levels, to being an heroic martyr. And far from being silenced, there is now nothing but talk of him and his work. His films - in particular Submission, about the lack of voice for traditional Muslim women - are being shown again. Similarly, Pim Fortuyn’s party won more seats in the election just after his murder than it probably would have had he lived.
After over a week, things have calmed down, but there are still tensions. And it has been a week where the ugly sides of life have been seen. Of people turned evil by an inability to reconcile the values around them with that of their over-consuming devotion to their own system of belief and of people turned evil through anger and pre-formed hatred.
More comedy soon. Please.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Brass Monkeys
This morning the climate suddenly turned a corner and became as bitterly cold as a day can get without being a day somewhere in central Canada. It was so cold, my planned trip to ikea was called off in favour of a nice evening in hugging the radiator. No one in my family has ever been a polar explorer, as you can probably guess.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Book Review: Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
The heroine of this book, Fanny Price, does nothing. Basically she just sits and hopes her cousin falls in love with her. Stuff happens in the book, don’t get me wrong, but Fanny is not proactive, not active, and not even reactive, except on an emotional level. It’s a very psychological book - Austen’s most Virginia Woolfish work.
And even when stuff does finally happen in the book - illness, elopement, adultery - Fanny is miles away and receives all the information in letters. But in the end, the heroine who does nothing wins through, marries the family member of her choice and sees off all those not pure of heart. Sounds terrible the way I described it, but it’s a damn good read if you like Austen’s gentle, satirical style.
This is not to be confused with Austen Park by Jane Mansfield in which the heavily endowed heroine is much more active and more prone to bikini-wearing. She too gets the man she wants. And his brother.
And even when stuff does finally happen in the book - illness, elopement, adultery - Fanny is miles away and receives all the information in letters. But in the end, the heroine who does nothing wins through, marries the family member of her choice and sees off all those not pure of heart. Sounds terrible the way I described it, but it’s a damn good read if you like Austen’s gentle, satirical style.
This is not to be confused with Austen Park by Jane Mansfield in which the heavily endowed heroine is much more active and more prone to bikini-wearing. She too gets the man she wants. And his brother.
Monday, November 01, 2004
Great Movies In German
Part 185 of a continuing series of unexpected films watched (or part watched) in German:
South Park Der Film
"Fick dich und halts maul Onkel Ficker"
South Park Der Film
"Fick dich und halts maul Onkel Ficker"
Christopher Reeve
The last time I was in the US was some nine years ago. I was approaching a town called Charlottesville in Virginia when the radio news announced that Christopher Reeve had been involved in a horse-related accident in the town of Charlottesville, Virginia. It was quite disconcerting. I always somehow felt somehow responsible. Slowly, over the years, I put those thoughts from my mind.
Not long into my arrival back into the US for the first time since then, the TV announces that Christopher Reeve has died. Now tell me I am not to blame! The first thing I resolved to do when I get back is have my blood tested for high levels of Kryptonite.
Not long into my arrival back into the US for the first time since then, the TV announces that Christopher Reeve has died. Now tell me I am not to blame! The first thing I resolved to do when I get back is have my blood tested for high levels of Kryptonite.
12/10/04, San Diego and Tijuana
Running through some of the poorer areas of San Diego is a train line. It’s called a trolley and is more like a metro train or a tram than a train. One line goes all the way down to the border with Mexico. It is this line we took. Partly for the experience and partly because the border to Mexico is not the place to park your car. And driving over there isn’t the thing to do, either.
But as it happens Tijuana is so much on then border, that you can calk over there into the centre of town. The walkway over the border is a horrible ugly concrete affair in the style of 1960s shopping centres. It takes you zig-zaggingly up and over the border and then down again in the same style. No photography is allowed in the walkway, which is a pity as it is an area of outstanding national ugliness.
Tijuana has two sides. There is the sleazy tourist-trap area where every shop sells souvenirs from classy sculptures by local artists (rare) to tacky sombrero ash trays (very common). There are so many of these shops all selling pretty much the same thing, that after a while it becomes impossible to know what to by.
The other side of town is the sleazy part where drink and prostitutes are cheap. It’s a popular Batchelor party destination for Californian men, the same way Amsterdam is for British men.
We only went to the tourist part of town. Walked past and into the shops selling various grades of objects emblazoned with Tijuana. Sometimes people tried to entice us in with everything from lies (“Everything today one Dollar”) to humour (“Please come in and let me rip you off”). Maybe as much as a fistful of dollars changed hands to get a few little gifts and to have lunch serenaded by a junior mariachi band, but that was it. There really isn’t so much to see in Tijuana itself. It’s a place to go to say I’ve been to Mexico and to buy the sombrero ashtrays to back it up. You don’t go there to get a taste of Mexican life - this is a border town, it ain’t typical.
Getting back was quite straight forward. There was a worry about my status. But my password was already stamped; it’s not uncommon for tourists to pop into Mexico for the day, or even a few hours as in our case.
That evening we dined at Ruby’s Diner. It’s an old-style diner set in the 50’s or 60’s (I’m a bit vague because they are). It’s the kind of place you don’t get cutlery because everything comes in a bun. But it’s better quality than stuff that usually comes in a bun. Ruby was represented by a 20ft waitress suspended over the bar. The so-called ‘Skirt of Damocles.’
To appear useful, I went along to mein hostesses acting workshop in the evening. As it happened they were short of one actor and I helped by reading his role. Fortunately the role was of a tough, American, action-film hero, so it was a clear case of type-casting.
But as it happens Tijuana is so much on then border, that you can calk over there into the centre of town. The walkway over the border is a horrible ugly concrete affair in the style of 1960s shopping centres. It takes you zig-zaggingly up and over the border and then down again in the same style. No photography is allowed in the walkway, which is a pity as it is an area of outstanding national ugliness.
Tijuana has two sides. There is the sleazy tourist-trap area where every shop sells souvenirs from classy sculptures by local artists (rare) to tacky sombrero ash trays (very common). There are so many of these shops all selling pretty much the same thing, that after a while it becomes impossible to know what to by.
The other side of town is the sleazy part where drink and prostitutes are cheap. It’s a popular Batchelor party destination for Californian men, the same way Amsterdam is for British men.
We only went to the tourist part of town. Walked past and into the shops selling various grades of objects emblazoned with Tijuana. Sometimes people tried to entice us in with everything from lies (“Everything today one Dollar”) to humour (“Please come in and let me rip you off”). Maybe as much as a fistful of dollars changed hands to get a few little gifts and to have lunch serenaded by a junior mariachi band, but that was it. There really isn’t so much to see in Tijuana itself. It’s a place to go to say I’ve been to Mexico and to buy the sombrero ashtrays to back it up. You don’t go there to get a taste of Mexican life - this is a border town, it ain’t typical.
Getting back was quite straight forward. There was a worry about my status. But my password was already stamped; it’s not uncommon for tourists to pop into Mexico for the day, or even a few hours as in our case.
That evening we dined at Ruby’s Diner. It’s an old-style diner set in the 50’s or 60’s (I’m a bit vague because they are). It’s the kind of place you don’t get cutlery because everything comes in a bun. But it’s better quality than stuff that usually comes in a bun. Ruby was represented by a 20ft waitress suspended over the bar. The so-called ‘Skirt of Damocles.’
To appear useful, I went along to mein hostesses acting workshop in the evening. As it happened they were short of one actor and I helped by reading his role. Fortunately the role was of a tough, American, action-film hero, so it was a clear case of type-casting.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
USA: Politics (14/10/04)
It’s election time (for those of you who have been on Mars) and America seems never to have been so divided since the North and South got it on over America’s involuntary immigrants.
On the left side (in the purple corner) - that’s America’s left, the world’s centre - they’re all for working with the outside world to fight the almost-impossible-to-fight (in conventional terms) threat of terrorism.
On the right side (in the black, viscous corner) there are lots of people running around shouting their heads off about imminent attacks and national security. Important issues, but best dealt with without the arm-waving and with a modicum of logic. Many of these people seem to believe they are living on borrowed time. Many seem to think that any amount of thought on the nature of and dealing with terrorism is tantamount to treason.
America is still scared. The terrorists are therefore still winning. If America wipes out all active terrorists, all people considering it as a career or even have the potential to become one because of current or future circumstances… they will still be scared, and these dead terrorists will still be winning.
It’s a shame that the most powerful country in the world is scared by a group of people that even with associated groups probably only numbers in the low thousands. But then the country is still a little bit scared of Cuba.
On one TV show, a woman who looks like an actress plugs her book on “how to talk to a liberal.” Her book must say, ‘hysterically and making as little sense as possible’ as that was how she talked to the show’s other guest, a calm, soft-spoken liberal.
The trouble with liberals as allowed on American TV is they are liberals. They are all soft-spoken wimps and have to contend with people who believe the best way to get an idea across is by shouting. In the UK, these shouters would be pitted against firebrand socialists, who can return fire usually with as little thought, but I think all such lefties in the US are still blackballed. The other option would be to pit two intelligent thinking men against each other and you’d think the candidacy debates would be like that, but it didn’t seem to be.
According to the blonde girl with the book, bombs will go off the day after John Kerry is elected because he is a liberal. She could be right, but as these things take a little bit of planning, why would they choose that day and on that condition to set a bomb off? It would make more sense during the election as this would probably make it go George Bush’s way as he does very well out of the climate of fear he has help nurture. Plus, I’m convinced al Qaeda and allies are rooting for Bush as he has done so much to heighten the fear of them and to recruit new members to the cause by his antics in Iraq. A Middle-East that is already embittered against the US for its meddling in the region (overt and covert) doesn’t need more examples of its… well its hypocrisy. More later. For now, back to the comedy.
-
PS Since I wrote this, but before I had a chance to publish it, some of my assertions have been backed up by a released video from one Osama Bin Laden - the man generally regarded as the world’s Terrorist in Chief. Why can’t nice people ever agree with me?
On the left side (in the purple corner) - that’s America’s left, the world’s centre - they’re all for working with the outside world to fight the almost-impossible-to-fight (in conventional terms) threat of terrorism.
On the right side (in the black, viscous corner) there are lots of people running around shouting their heads off about imminent attacks and national security. Important issues, but best dealt with without the arm-waving and with a modicum of logic. Many of these people seem to believe they are living on borrowed time. Many seem to think that any amount of thought on the nature of and dealing with terrorism is tantamount to treason.
America is still scared. The terrorists are therefore still winning. If America wipes out all active terrorists, all people considering it as a career or even have the potential to become one because of current or future circumstances… they will still be scared, and these dead terrorists will still be winning.
It’s a shame that the most powerful country in the world is scared by a group of people that even with associated groups probably only numbers in the low thousands. But then the country is still a little bit scared of Cuba.
On one TV show, a woman who looks like an actress plugs her book on “how to talk to a liberal.” Her book must say, ‘hysterically and making as little sense as possible’ as that was how she talked to the show’s other guest, a calm, soft-spoken liberal.
The trouble with liberals as allowed on American TV is they are liberals. They are all soft-spoken wimps and have to contend with people who believe the best way to get an idea across is by shouting. In the UK, these shouters would be pitted against firebrand socialists, who can return fire usually with as little thought, but I think all such lefties in the US are still blackballed. The other option would be to pit two intelligent thinking men against each other and you’d think the candidacy debates would be like that, but it didn’t seem to be.
According to the blonde girl with the book, bombs will go off the day after John Kerry is elected because he is a liberal. She could be right, but as these things take a little bit of planning, why would they choose that day and on that condition to set a bomb off? It would make more sense during the election as this would probably make it go George Bush’s way as he does very well out of the climate of fear he has help nurture. Plus, I’m convinced al Qaeda and allies are rooting for Bush as he has done so much to heighten the fear of them and to recruit new members to the cause by his antics in Iraq. A Middle-East that is already embittered against the US for its meddling in the region (overt and covert) doesn’t need more examples of its… well its hypocrisy. More later. For now, back to the comedy.
-
PS Since I wrote this, but before I had a chance to publish it, some of my assertions have been backed up by a released video from one Osama Bin Laden - the man generally regarded as the world’s Terrorist in Chief. Why can’t nice people ever agree with me?
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Film Review: Napoleon Dynamite
This is an odd film. A series of episodes and slices of quirky life, in which a plot is discovered quite late, but is really not so consequential to the piece. It was nice to see a film where all of the main characters were such utter odd-ball weirdos. It was amusing and interesting, but it didn’t grab me nearly as much as I would have liked it to. There are some good moments and some nice lines: “I caught you a delicious bass,” is delivered as a kind of nerdy chat-up line. I’m going to try it next time I get a chance. It’s a pity I went to Coronado beach before I saw the film, otherwise I could have used such a line and landed me some one just like Marilyn Monroe. Or at least like Joe E Brown. Conclusion: this is a film you may or may nor like. It depends on your taste. I have heard of people loving it. I thought it was diverting and sufficiently different to recommend it, although it was a little unsatisfying.
11/10/04, San Diego: Coronado
Over on the island floating in the middle of San Diego bay, is a region called Coronado. It’s a basically a beach resort most famous for the Hotel Del Coronado, a sprawling wooden building on the beach front. It’s a grand old hotel decorated in a grand old style. Layers of dark oak on thick, plush carpets.
It is a place famous for temporarily housing some of the country’s litarary grates (is how I believe they spell it): Mark Twain, Henry James, etc. Many Presidents have stayed there. But the hotel is most famous as the one in the film Some Like It Hot. That makes it instantly recognisable.
I hung around on the beach for a while and tripped up three girls, apologising in the strangest English accent I could muster. The first two hit me, but the third took my telephone number and told me to expect a call. It was her lawyer.
After the fun of the beach, an excursion was made into San Diego downtown. San Diego is one of those sprawling cities. The centre, or downtown, features a few tall buildings and the old town. The rest of the city is relatively low suburbs.
There’s not so much to see downtown. An old town in the US isn’t really old, just not new. We spent some time in a hardware store that contained the biggest collection of doorbells and hinges I have ever seen. Every style you could ever think of was there. Doorbells that looked like doorknockers are big. Especially doorbells that looked like doorknockers that looked like animals: butterflies, frogs and beetles are common.
After this educational experience we took ourselves to another American centre of lerning, the Cinematoscope. Here we watched a talkie (in kolor) entitled Napoleon Dynamite.
It is a place famous for temporarily housing some of the country’s litarary grates (is how I believe they spell it): Mark Twain, Henry James, etc. Many Presidents have stayed there. But the hotel is most famous as the one in the film Some Like It Hot. That makes it instantly recognisable.
I hung around on the beach for a while and tripped up three girls, apologising in the strangest English accent I could muster. The first two hit me, but the third took my telephone number and told me to expect a call. It was her lawyer.
After the fun of the beach, an excursion was made into San Diego downtown. San Diego is one of those sprawling cities. The centre, or downtown, features a few tall buildings and the old town. The rest of the city is relatively low suburbs.
There’s not so much to see downtown. An old town in the US isn’t really old, just not new. We spent some time in a hardware store that contained the biggest collection of doorbells and hinges I have ever seen. Every style you could ever think of was there. Doorbells that looked like doorknockers are big. Especially doorbells that looked like doorknockers that looked like animals: butterflies, frogs and beetles are common.
After this educational experience we took ourselves to another American centre of lerning, the Cinematoscope. Here we watched a talkie (in kolor) entitled Napoleon Dynamite.
Film Review: The Bourne Supremacy
This is a sequel. That doesn’t mean it is a bad film. Being a sequel doesn’t always mean that. It just means that sometimes what often happens, you are made to feel cheated about something from the first. Usually this is the romantic interest. Usual story: In film 1, as well as defeating bad guys and saving world / school / Christmas (delete as applicable), said hero falls in love with someone. The end, after said planet / institution / season have been saved, the hero pops off sunsetwards with said love interest. Now comes the sequel. Hero needs a reason to act despite being felicitously happy with said woman / man / porpoise. Thus the usual answer is to kill her / him / it off. Thus giving the man reason to act and, frequently, the chance to fall in love all over again.
I haven’t seen any of the original versions of this film, but was given a summary by a friend which in the end wasn’t necessary, as the film gave its own quick-cut summary. The basic story is man with memory loss tries to find out and then come to terms with what he did. He used to kill people for a dirty branch of the CIA. He was very good at it, and is still the master of any situation. He won’t call anyone unless he can see them. It would make him an irritating friend, but a great guy to have in a crisis. And being trained by the CIA and authored by Robert Ludlum, his life is just one big crisis followed by another.
The film is shot in wobble-cam which helps make everything more exciting because it’s like you’re there being wobbled around or running with him. The car chases are spectacular and really show that cars are so much tougher in films than in real life. I was particularly impressed at the resilience of Russian taxis. Forget Volvos, these are the new ‘tanks on wheels’, able to stand anything you can throw at them.
The Bourne Supremacy is an exiting piece of film not stupid but not so believable. Likely to spawn several sequels: Bourne Again, Bourne: Free and of course the prequel: Bourne Yesterday. You chuckle derisively, but can you prove it will not happen?
I haven’t seen any of the original versions of this film, but was given a summary by a friend which in the end wasn’t necessary, as the film gave its own quick-cut summary. The basic story is man with memory loss tries to find out and then come to terms with what he did. He used to kill people for a dirty branch of the CIA. He was very good at it, and is still the master of any situation. He won’t call anyone unless he can see them. It would make him an irritating friend, but a great guy to have in a crisis. And being trained by the CIA and authored by Robert Ludlum, his life is just one big crisis followed by another.
The film is shot in wobble-cam which helps make everything more exciting because it’s like you’re there being wobbled around or running with him. The car chases are spectacular and really show that cars are so much tougher in films than in real life. I was particularly impressed at the resilience of Russian taxis. Forget Volvos, these are the new ‘tanks on wheels’, able to stand anything you can throw at them.
The Bourne Supremacy is an exiting piece of film not stupid but not so believable. Likely to spawn several sequels: Bourne Again, Bourne: Free and of course the prequel: Bourne Yesterday. You chuckle derisively, but can you prove it will not happen?
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