tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448482884691612002024-03-13T02:59:45.944-07:00In Which I Do Things I Don't LikeSpencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-51608035706388021502011-06-06T01:19:00.000-07:002011-06-06T01:19:58.347-07:00Some Fancy Artwork and Whatnot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjxv_X7gR6tEd6Kccguxb0sE1TMUaQI4bv7lGSbPLGJ8WX2uCe5atMdnCMIP5cboLMX55AXoAW9pjDXaZHjpSZIuSREH4ZdoCR9SHOyv20CwMo_bBnMVwBw1h7NkmqBGw2ekUpeIhpRT4/s1600/IMAG0049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjxv_X7gR6tEd6Kccguxb0sE1TMUaQI4bv7lGSbPLGJ8WX2uCe5atMdnCMIP5cboLMX55AXoAW9pjDXaZHjpSZIuSREH4ZdoCR9SHOyv20CwMo_bBnMVwBw1h7NkmqBGw2ekUpeIhpRT4/s320/IMAG0049.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I drew this in 10 minutes, trying to do one thing, and then falling back into my normal half-assed artistic inclinations. It's got a few titles:<br />
<ul><li>Kindly Letting Down the Inept Artist at the Swanky Low-Brow Gallery Opening</li>
<li>Am I Getting This Low-Brow Art Reference Right? <a href="http://www.shag.com/">Shag</a> is Considered Low-Brow, Right? I Guess He's the Only One I Know. </li>
<li>Aren't You Unemployed? Shouldn't You Be Applying to Jobs in the time You're Doodling?</li>
<li>I Can't Believe I Like the Alkaline Trio Song "Burn" These Days. It's Bad Enough I'm Still Listening to Music I liked in 8th Grade.</li>
</ul>And finally:<br />
<ul><li>Did Anyone Have a Running Pool for When Spencer was going to Start Going a Tad Insane? I Think Anyone Who Has This Monday Won the Pool.</li>
</ul>I kid, obviously. But I'll probably start writing in this again. I may or may not spend at least a couple days formulating a really solid and then hastily (and definitely not proof-read) write something about <i>Adventuretime with Finn and Jake</i>. I'll give you a preview: I think it's swell, and I have an <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XSbZidsgMfw">angry young auteur</a> to thank for turning me on to it.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-16725201559613267702011-03-18T14:05:00.000-07:002011-03-18T14:05:22.311-07:00Man, Holidays Not Associated With Jesus or Pilgrims Are LameeeeIt seems like every non-religious/patriotic based holiday these days end up being kind of a downer for the ol' Spence-meister*. Even a holiday that seems infallible for a imbibing type fella like me seems to be a little less fun this year, for mainly two reasons.<br />
<br />
Let's start with how I woke up. I couldn't hear very well out of my left ear. This had been happening regularly, actually, but it went away pretty quickly. The general consensus of the Amateur Board of Physicians of America that I've been consulting with is that I probably just need my ear rinsed by a doctor with their fancy doctor tools.<br />
<br />
Me being me, I put that shit off until I couldn't hear well for a day and a half. I plan on seeing a doctor tomorrow, so I'll go two days without hearing much from good ol' left-ear. Imagine if you shoved a really effective ear plug in your ear, then for good measure, covered it with your hand as well. That's how I feel. Kinda weird.<br />
<br />
So, not a good way to start things off, but nonetheless, I powered through the day. As you may remember from the last time I blogged, I am now an intern, so I went to said internship, and was (quite benevolently) allowed to leave early, which gave me time to venture to the delightfully dive-y sports bar right next door that I had been eyeing since I arrived here.<br />
<br />
I thought to get a Guinness, because, you know, I'm a walking stereotype, but plans changed when I saw they had domestic beer food-colored to be green. That's even more gravy for the stereotype sect, and I had yet to have a green beer ever, because last St. Patty's (my first legal one, if you're keeping track) the Irish pub I was at didn't think to do that, not sure why (trying to be classy? I don't know; either way, their bad).<br />
<br />
I digress though. Green beer. Me--tired, weird ear, but excited because green beer! I'm only having one because I have to drive home and I've been up for far too long, but I wanted to celebrate what is nominally one of the more fun holidays.<br />
<br />
This is where shit goes wrong.<br />
<br />
It starts with a pretty girl. I'll call straight talk on this one; I don't think I've ever been approached by a random pretty girl in a place where alcohol is. Me being tired and down one functioning ear, not to mentioned still very sunburned from being out in the sun all day two days prior, I am decidedly out of my element when this happens, more so than I'd usually be out of my element.<br />
<br />
But, in my head, I'm like, <i>maybe this will be cool. I'm not a terrible looking dude, and my shoulders are slightly broader due to me diligently exercising specifically my shoulders. Perhaps I've become a magnet to the opposite sex in the past three weeks</i>.<br />
<br />
I start getting nervous, but in an excited way. She finally sets her green beer down on the opposite side of the counter where I am sitting by myself.<br />
<br />
"Are you Mark Zuckerberg?"<br />
<br />
Shit. I don't even know how to respond in a clever way, because I woke up 14 hours ago, and had been in the office for 12. My brain was so excited about the green beer that it was too focused on that. I'm a sucker for novelty.<br />
<br />
"No, I'm not," I try to stammer out with a chuckle.<br />
<br />
"No, you areeeee. I loved you in<i> The Social Network</i>." She informs me.<br />
<br />
But this is confusing. Am I Mark Zuckerberg, or Jesse Eisenberg at this point? Which is the lesser of two evils? Is this decidedly blonde woman an anti-Semite? Again, can't process this all, because, green beer.<br />
<br />
We talk for a little more, she explains she's been drinking green beer all night and is just messing around. She introduces me to her brother from a distance, who looks drunk and ornery and very quickly shoots out at me, "Hey, that's my baby sister" with an ominous tone.<br />
<br />
All the while, I can't hear shit. I tell her this was my first green beer <i>ever</i> and I was very excited about it.<br />
<br />
"Ever?!" She asks. I nod yes.<br />
<br />
"So, you're like, what, 22 and a half?"<br />
<br />
"Like, 22 and a quarter, I think."<br />
<br />
What followed was an "oh my goshhhhh" look, and a quick farewell.<br />
<br />
"It was nice meeting you; you were a good sport," I barely hear her say. She goes back to her table.<br />
<br />
I finish the rest of my beer, sitting again on my own. I start to think about watching more of "The Trailer Park Bo--" WAIT A SECOND. What was that look? Was I too young for her or something? <i>Was she hitting on me</i>? Holy shit, that would be awesome! Maybe I'm awesome!<br />
<br />
But then again, if I was a surrogate for Jesse Eisenberg or Mark Zuckerberg (both?), maybe that wasn't the most flattering come-on that could happen.<br />
<br />
So then I just went home and watched "The Trailer Park Boys," had a Guinness (Extra Stout!), and pondered over whether I should work on improving my posture.<br />
<br />
It was a weird night I felt like sharing. Happy Friday, everyone. I'll spare you all a Rebecca Black joke here.<br />
<br />
*Oh God, I just typed that. I should probably edit it out when I'm done writing all of this.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-54542895077732442912011-03-11T00:25:00.000-08:002011-03-11T00:25:59.779-08:00What A RideWell, of course it would be anticlimactic, me missing my first blog of the year.<br />
<br />
I was shaving and thought, <i>ah shit; it's 11:54 and I forgot to blog</i>. Not even a cool coming of age story involving some manic pixie dream girl*<br />
<br />
But there is a good reason I forgot. You see, I started the morning in San Diego as an unemployed loafer trying to be productive by at least writing once a day. By the end of the day, I was in Los Angeles as an intern, and am now prepping to be so I can wake up at the earliest time I've woken up since well over a year ago.<br />
<br />
As it is mostly a full time gig for a while, the update schedule for this blog will switch from "once a day" to "whenever I have something good to write about." I'm not sure when this will happen, but let's assume it'll be this weekend.<br />
<br />
Until then, thanks for putting up with the narcissism on my part for thinking people were interested in the most mundane things I had to say every day for about 71 days. Knowing there are people who will indulge this means that I keep good company, and the world is probably a mostly swell place, all things considered. Well, all things considered, maybe not, but take the good when you can get it, I guess. You probably know what I'm getting at.<br />
<br />
*I assume most of you read the AV Club and understand this reference. If you don't, you should look it up, cuz it means you'll probably start reading the AV Club, because it's neat.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-38757829611699292722011-03-09T20:37:00.000-08:002011-03-09T20:37:40.681-08:00LosingAlright, I suck, because I put off writing once again. But that's not important because I watched <i>The Losers </i>just now, and boy oh boy, is that one a treat.<br />
<br />
Depending on whether or not you hate yourself, that is.<br />
<br />
I kid, I kid. But I also don't.<br />
<br />
I oftentimes spend a lot of time thinking about films like this more than movies I just flat out like, because I find what I call "bad cinema" a little more interesting from an analytical standpoint. And <i>The Losers </i>is chock full of bad cinema.<br />
<br />
Is it entertaining? I dono, kinda, not really. Are there a lot of explosions? Fuck yeah. Does it make effectively post-modern use of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing?" Absolutely it did.<br />
<br />
If you're drunk, bored and watching HBO, are under the age of 16, in your twenties and haven't read a book since junior year of high school, it's definitely an enjoyable movie. But that's a lot of circumstance. <br />
If you watch it as a 22 year old unemployed former film student who watched a lot of student films desperately striving to be "cool," not good, you kind of get annoyed.<br />
<br />
But it's an interesting case study in bad cinema, because it uses every play in the bad action playbook. EVERY ONE. Hyper saturated overblown handheld cinematography, gratuitously long and mostly unnecessary sex scene, bad comic relief, strong silent type, scenery chewing bad guy played by a pretty good actor who is mostly underutilized but was obviously a character they were banking on to be popular... I could keep going, but I gotta go take a shower.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I would recommend it if you're not a snob, or if you're a snob who thinks it's more fun to scoff at bad shit than talk about why <i>Black Swan's </i>adherence to the melodramatic style of ballet was brilliant, or something.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-80034453993786077012011-03-08T16:28:00.000-08:002011-03-08T16:28:41.252-08:00Remember What I Said the Title for Today's Post Was? I Lied.My previously planned post is derailed by the fact that today is Mardi Gras, a holiday I've never celebrated as a result of being either underage, not an old school Catholic, or resistant to French culture*. But today, my mind isn't working well enough to pay tribute to something that was a pretty big deal in my insular home life, so I'll call a brevity day today as a result of a holiday. One that I fully intend to kind of celebrate this year.<br />
<br />
That is to say, if at one point tonight I'm at a bar, and some girl shows everyone her boobs for beads, I'll probably <i>not </i>look away or anything. Not gonna not see some boobies and say "Nope! No Mardi Gras for me!"<br />
<br />
You now realize, after that one paragraph, why I didn't try to write anything serious today.<br />
<br />
*Totally joking, kind of.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-41597159148223792742011-03-07T21:22:00.000-08:002011-03-07T21:22:25.790-08:00CanonizedI'm going to tell you this flat out: I bought a really fancy DSLR camera today, and I'm not posting any photos, because I'm lazy today and didn't figure out how to put them on my computer. Also, I had too much fun, you know, taking pictures. Deal with it. And by deal with it, I mean wait until tomorrow.<br />
<br />
I bought a Canon 7D for two reasons: 1) I wanted to take nice photos of the towering star pine that is a landmark of my home that will be dismantled tomorrow and 2) I never wanted to <i>have </i>to buy a Mini-DV tape whenever I wanted to make something. Check and check. I hope I become more productive as a result.<br />
<br />
To further help productivity, I watched <i>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind </i>today. Holy gosh, I forgot how good of a movie that is. I forgot about how much I kind of liked it as a 10th grader eating Applebees to-go by myself while my friends were at their Winter Formal (it's cool, I was totally having a great time and don't need girls or socializing to be happy, so I told myself), but now how much I really like it as a 22 year-old who respects cinematic craft and sad-sack characters who can't make eye contact with women he hasn't met*. I'll probably write about it some time in the future with a little more depth. It deserves to be not glossed over, as it's one of the few films in recent history that really did something different. Cool stuff.<br />
<br />
Anyway, tune in tomorrow for a very special blog: "Goodbye, Star Pine." Very special, in that I really like that title. <br />
<br />
*Hey, me too, Jim Carrey! (Quick disclaimer: This is mostly a joke)Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-33404661485117282862011-03-06T21:11:00.000-08:002011-03-06T21:11:49.433-08:00Big Prelude SundayTomorrow, I'm going to make the largest (somewhat) recreational purchase of my adult life. As such, I've been quite distracted today. Nonetheless, here's a good point that should be made every once in a while:<br />
<br />
Edgar Wright is a very good filmmaker. I say this as I watch <i>Hot Fuzz </i>and type without looking at the screen. Only an obsessive film nerd such as myself would ever really notice how good he is, but it's worth noting that his films have trivia tracks on the DVDs, which would help give someone a better clue as to how awesome he packs things into his movies.<br />
<br />
I can't say enough good things about him, but for now, this will suffice. I'll see you tomorrow, journal-bloggy-thingy.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-52100461342011926442011-03-05T20:15:00.000-08:002011-03-05T20:15:42.570-08:00My Allegiances are ShiftingI oftentimes say weird and repetitive things to myself in an attempt to be clever. One I do at lot is, "Growing up means ________" followed by a self deprecating joke or something, or an honest observation.<br />
<br />
One I came up with this week in that format was, "Growing up means developing crushes on women like Bonnie Hunt."<br />
<br />
She was in the film <i>I Want Someone to Eat Cheese With</i> for a total of about fifteen minutes, and was quite possibly the most appealing woman I've seen on film in quite some time. But, still, it's weird to be attracted to a woman in her late forties that is by no means an age-defying beauty. That sounds wrong/bad, but I mean it in a good way.<br />
<br />
But the thing is it's weird that I was attracted to her more than someone like that brunette girl from "Glee." I guess the shift to personality and likability over general hotness and stuff. It's weird, is all I'm saying.<br />
<br />
But then again, I watched part of <i>Doomsday </i>in between napping and thinking almost constantly, <i>good God Rhona Mitra is super hot</i>. So maybe I'm not totally grown up.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-11926376921816228532011-03-04T19:54:00.000-08:002011-03-04T19:54:33.809-08:00I'm late to the game on this but...Look at this. Look at this baby.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RP4abiHdQpc" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
It's adorable, yes. I watched this video and thought, <i>shit, I should have a kid soon! Maybe he'll* be as awesome as that thing! </i>I have never had that thought before in my entire life until then, which is a weird sign of me growing up I guess, which I'll go into more tomorrow.<br />
<br />
But think about how weird technology is. That baby has been viewed six million times. Six million. I imagine at eight months, I probably would have been viewed by maybe a thousand or so, and I wasn't nearly as adorable as that baby, as I was probably asleep or doing less entertaining things than perpetually laughing at torn-up paper.<br />
<br />
Six million people. Imagine if they get paid even cents per view; that eight-month old could pay for college. And more so, when that kid is in college, he'll have been viewed exponentially more than most human beings may be in their entire life.<br />
<br />
Also, Charlie Sheen is apparently going to get paid tons of money to twitter.<br />
<br />
All I'm saying is, the internet is crazy.<br />
<br />
<i>*</i>I never imagine having a daughter in hypothetical situations, which means the joke will probably be on me if I have a kid, statistics be damned, forces in the world will conspire against me to defy stats and give me a daughter, I just know it.<i> </i>Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-13600309778017732822011-03-03T21:29:00.000-08:002011-03-03T21:29:22.241-08:00Devastating ThursdayWithout much thought, I determined my evening would be spent the way most of my Thursdays are--watching NBC's comedy lineup, minus "Perfect Couples" (due to a refusal to watch Olivia Munn*) and "Outsourced" (how do people not find that show kind of offensive? I guess because people don't watch it?). The problem was that the episodes tonight were not new. More so, they were all episodes of "The Office," which is honestly the one I can take or leave at this point.<br />
<br />
I know the blame should be on me for not checking earlier in the day to see if the episodes were in fact new, that a lot of the reason I'm probably hanging out by myself playing video games for the night, but I spent a good half hour being mad at my television, an inanimate object.<br />
<br />
Then I started thinking that the problem wasn't the TV, but the fact that I'm socially inept. But see, that's what's so great about TV, is that they make the socially inept part of a club of people who laugh together, learn together, and understand things socially because TV has a good way of subtly explaining things to people.<br />
<br />
We're all a little bit of Abed ("Community" character, if you didn't get the reference, please stop reading and watch all of the show right now), and without a new lineup, I'm forced to realize I might be doing something wrong in terms of being a functioning human.<br />
<br />
But then I realize I have video games and the first season of "Community" on DVD. So all's well. I'll stave off becoming well-adjusted for the next time there isn't anything new on, and the paintball episode gets boring (probably never).<br />
<br />
*I begrudgingly watch some of her "Daily Show" bits, with me guffawing at her lack of sense of humor.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-35924517914348123692011-03-02T21:58:00.000-08:002011-03-02T21:58:47.547-08:00Notes From WednesdayNothing big to write about, also got sidetracked during the day. Here's some random thoughts.<br />
<br />
I've been contemplating buying a DSLR camera for a long while. They're those digital cameras that real serious-like photographers use, but with technology getting better, they also have the capability to record some stunningly awesome hi-def video, real neat shallow depth-of-field type stuff that I won't go into for fear of losing your interest (if I haven't already). This was important today because I went through the mental process of contemplating selling my Panasonic DVX, the outdated (yet still quite pretty in terms of image) video camera I first bought with my own money after saving up my money from working at a movie theater for around a year. It has sentimental value for those reasons, but I rarely use it. Still, I feel like it's a good token of the few times I've worked hard to buy something I really wanted. It's still the most expensive thing I've ever purchased on my own.<br />
<br />
As you can tell, I already talked myself into keeping it, for two reasons. The aforementioned sentimental value, and the fact that every day I <i>don't </i>sell it, it's value decreases exponentially. But, really, it's mostly just because I love the damn thing so much, and I think about the good times I had just messing around with it and my friends on the few projects I did with it in high school.<br />
<br />
This made me realize two things: 1) I am a packrat, and 2) I'm obsessively nostalgic. I'm not sure either of these are good things, though I'd like to think nostalgia, if viewed as a vice, is probably a better one than, I don't know, being a dick.<br />
<br />
Also, I saw <i>The King's Speech </i>last night. If I had seen it sooner, I could have predicted its Oscar win ahead of time.<br />
<br />
Not because of the fact that the Weinsteins are good at buying their Oscars (I guess they are, according to people who know these things), or that the movie was in fact one of the best pictures of the year (it totally is, though not sure it's the best but this is neither the place nor time to rant about Oscars).<br />
<br />
It's the only film in the best picture categories that have corgis in it.<br />
<br />
No one can resist corgis.<br />
<br />
Here's a video of a corgi playing around a dock. It's wearing a doggie life preserver.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/glii-kazad8" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
If you can resist that, I assume you've lost use of your soul, and you probably shouldn't be reading my blog or watching movies. You should go on a vision quest and find your spirit animal or something. Not sure how one really goes about regaining a soul.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-13051631849856196332011-03-01T17:54:00.000-08:002011-03-01T17:54:02.264-08:00And Now For Something Completely Different<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>You guys all know I get really bored a lot of the time. But only my friend Grant knows that I spend a lot of my time being bored listening to samples of guitar effects, amps, and guitars in general. These things are endlessly entertaining, not so much for the pleasure of hearing the actual effects, but for how completely goofy the music often sounds. There's a term called guitar wanking, which, if you've ever been in Guitar Center, you've probably heard. That's about what happens on these equipment samples.<br />
<br />
And if you're really lucky, Johnny DeMarco is the guy playing the samples and talking about them.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OPbvCOR01p0" title="YouTube video player" width="425"></iframe><br />
<br />
It's really goofy stuff, and obviously not indicative of any type of music that is actually popular in the world outside of people who really dig guitar virtuosity (of which there are few, and most of them only listen to Paul Gilbert and these clips).<br />
<br />
Anyway, I mess around on guitar a lot when I'm bored of listening to other people play in a wank-tastic fashion during effect samples, which is already a result of boredom. So I'm doubly bored when I start playing guitar, which means I get sidetracked a lot.<br />
<br />
I know, who would expect me to get sidetracked? I have such a straightforward blog that never goes on tangents.<br />
<br />
Today I tried to record a surf rock-style song, but got too annoyed at my laptop microphone's inability to make things sound good. I was also bored, so my attention span was short, so I stopped trying to get it right.<br />
<br />
The problem is, though, that I decided I as going to post a bit of music on this here blog. I figured it'd be a time to live up to the title of my blog in forcing myself to do things I relaly don't like.<br />
<br />
And I hate showing any music I think of to anyone.<br />
<br />
Alas, I still lost this round for the most part, because my combination of perfectionism/short attention span made me give up. But I decided I was still gonna do something musical for the blog. So I decided I would just try to emulate some of the wankiest-wanking I could think of.<br />
<br />
I took a stock loop from garage band, laid down a rhythm that is my best approximation of something I might hear on Smooth Jazz 98.1, and then solo'd with all of the wanktitutde I could muster.<br />
<br />
All in all, it took about 30 minutes, and I thought it was douche-y enough for me to share without feeling self-conscious about. It's supposed to be kind of bad, which means I still didn't totally do something I like, putting creative work I actually care about out for anyone to see, but I'm taking baby steps by showing the internets that I play music a lot.<br />
<br />
Anyways, here's The Jazz Wank, as I hastily named it. Please God don't judge me. Or do, be brutal, I think it'd supposed to be made fun of for you to enjoy it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object height="81" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F11324828"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="81" src="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F11324828" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"></embed> </object> <span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/ca-condor-pas/thejazzwank">Thejazzwank</a> by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/ca-condor-pas">CA Condor PAS</a></span> </div>Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-30292800269745316472011-02-28T15:21:00.000-08:002011-02-28T15:21:37.846-08:00The Sunrise CafeIn theory, I am obsessed with exploring the California coastline. In practice, I usually just say that I'm obsessed with exploring the California coastline, and leave it at that, as when I make the trek back to San Diego from Los Angeles (or to any other location), I like to get from Point A to Point B in as little time as possible. Call it a short attention span or a lack of good music on my iPod.<br />
<br />
Not so, today. My drive back finally involved exploration, and I'm glad it did.<br />
<br />
The place was San Clemente, a town I recognize as the place Nixon hung out at in <i>Frost/Nixon</i> and more importantly, the city where the fantastic <i>Brick </i>was shot. The high school that the story takes place in is right off the freeway, and when I'm driving with people past it, I point it out to them. Their response is usually "What's <i>Brick</i>?" I then mutter that it's a good movie, and that it's on Netflix and people should watch it, if they're into noir-stuff or, you know, good movies.<br />
<br />
It is worth noting that I had never stopped and looked around that high school though, despite it being a pretty neat landmark for a film geek such as myself. Again, can't stop to smell the roses sometimes.<br />
<br />
But this time, I tricked myself. Instead of going to Subway near my apartment, mostly because I went there last night and didn't wanna seem like the guy that always goes to Subway every day for nearly every meal, I drove straight to the way home. That way, by about 1:15, I was really hungry, forcing myself to pull off into the strange new land that was San Clemente.<br />
<br />
I still didn't do much exploration; I basically pulled off of an exit and found the first eatery that seemed interesting. I like sunrises, and cafes are pretty neat, so on paper the Sunrise Cafe seemed a perfect place to eat.<br />
<br />
That is not to say it is a perfect place. It's a strange corner shop, dimly lit, duct tape covering tears in their vinyl bench seats. Still life oil paintings that are technically proficient but artistically lacking on one wall, and posters of famous dead folk from the mid-twentieth century (Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, and James Dean) on the opposing wall. A place so dim and lacking in an identity it would be awkward and sad if it weren't so Americana and charming. Sounds confusing, but trust me, it's comforting. Also, it's ironic that I say Americana, because I think it is ran by an Asian woman who strikes me as not being from here, originally. But really, what's more Americana than that?<br />
<br />
Service was quick and friendly, because besides myself, there was maybe one other person in there, seemingly a regular taking his time with his experience, and talking to the workers. Startled by their proficiency, I rushed into ordering a Reuben sandwich, which came out to me quicker than I think I ordered it. I was assured by the Asian lady that it was the best sandwich in the restaurant though, after she noticed I was running low on Diet Pepsi and my server had not rectified that yet. Not that the server really needed to, as it was still about half-empty at best. They were just really on top of service, I suppose.<br />
<br />
Also, a dude mopping asked me how I was doing when he mopped past me. I said good, again surprised by how nice everyone was.<br />
<br />
When I left, they questioned my turning up in their quaint cafe. They assumed I was going to San Diego, and then weren't surprised when I said I was coming from LA. They insisted everyone who comes from LA to SD comes through their cafe because they have great breakfast and a good Reuben. I saw a lot more cars on the freeway than I saw people in the cafe, so maybe that was an exaggeration, but who am I to argue?<br />
<br />
Then they got even more personal by asking me if I worked in LA. I stammered that I had just finished school, and was still looking for a job.<br />
<br />
"What major?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, um, film."<br />
<br />
"Ohhhhhh like Oscars? Fun."<br />
<br />
The server/now cashier chimed in. "We'll put a star next to this and keep it in case you become famous so we can say we served you."<br />
<br />
I probably blushed and laughed bashfully at this comment. "Fingers crossed; I hope I can help you out there," knowing that the chances are slim, but it's nice to have small bits of support like that.<br />
<br />
More so, it was just nice that they asked me how I was doing, and what I was about. I didn't expect that from a place so strange.<br />
<br />
The sandwich was good, not great by any means, but I felt good after the meal that could've very easily been quite depressing. Dining alone in a dim and non-pretentious restaurant in a foreign city can be quite the downer for a brightly pretentious person.<br />
<br />
Instead, I felt good, and decided what type of introspective stuff I was going to try to write about when I got to my laptop at home. Instead of enjoying the experience for what it was, an adventure and a good payoff of said adventure, I thought about how it'd influence something I'd write, which I don't know is the right way to enjoy things.<br />
<br />
Luckily, I saw an Arizona license plate that read a number, then the letters DYX. That threw me off my pretentious writer mode, and into 12 year old mode.<br />
<br />
"HAHA, that license plate sounds like 14 dicks when read aloud!*"<br />
<br />
It's good to know I can still enjoy some things without over-thinking them. <br />
<br />
*The number was not actually 14; I didn't want to write out someone's license plate for all the internet to see.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-36567919596997790302011-02-27T22:48:00.000-08:002011-02-27T22:48:46.989-08:00Almost Lost This OneI forgot that I hadn't blogged today. Thank goodness I remembered, or else I'd lose all grips on being productive that I am already not good at.<br />
<br />
Last night, I was at a bar with friends, and turned around to see my brother right behind me, who didn't notice me because I was in a suit (why, I don't really know).<br />
<br />
We live in a big city. For something like that to happen, well, it's pretty interesting to me. Finding one specific person in a bar in a big city.<br />
<br />
I can only hope this one day happens with Alison Brie, so I can not talk to her and awkwardly nod hi to her, definitely not strike up conversation and make her fall in love with me.<br />
<br />
Anyway, if this didn't make any sense, it's only because I really didn't wanna write today.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-20532068891625760592011-02-26T13:34:00.000-08:002011-02-26T13:34:33.558-08:00I Can't Tell AnymoreI honestly have no idea if celebrities or nascent celebrities are just blatantly fucking with the general public at this point.<br />
<br />
Last night, I had to process Twitter photos of Tyler, the Creator, rapper/producer/filmmaker on the up-and-up whose main claim to fame was a lot of gross imagery and lines about rape in his songs*, chilling with Justin Bieber on a tour bus and being legitimately excited about that. If that was all, I probably would have thought about something smart to write today about being young and recognized for hard work and artistic risk and junk.<br />
<br />
But then that whole Charlie Sheen tirade had to derail that idea. How does that guy manage to say that many crazy words together with a straight face? My brother tried to explain it to me, something about drugs and lack of a superego or something, which probably would've made sense, but I just couldn't process things anymore.<br />
<br />
And what sucks is that if I expressed this concern to Sheen himself, he'd just call me a loser that can't comprehend how awesome his life has been.<br />
<br />
And you know what? That's an infallible argument. I don't have that money or freedom of lifestyle and choice of words. I probably never will.<br />
<br />
And in my mind, that's fine, because I don't want to be like that guy. But maybe that means I really am just a loser.<br />
<br />
Probably not, but I'm putting way too much halfhearted thought into this. I think this Friday has short-circuited my brain's ability to apply intricate thought to anything. I'm only good at Minesweeper for the rest of this week.<br />
<br />
I think I'm going to watch <i>Hall Pass</i>.<br />
<br />
*Which honestly shouldn't have been his claim to fame; it should have been that he is an artistic polymath that does basically everything with a high level of quality. Lines about rape in his raps are probably the <i>least </i>interesting thing about him, honestly.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-61509802558749554262011-02-25T18:20:00.000-08:002011-02-25T18:20:58.817-08:00A Recommendation FridayThe last few blog posts have gotten very journal-y, which is not a good thing. I specifically did not want that to happen, unless it was in the context of me doing something I didn't like. Although, to be fair, dealing with vomit on my car/parking space isn't something I particularly like, per se. But I digress. I'll make it up to you all with a recommendation.<br />
<br />
Zach made me go to this stand-up thingy last night and--shit, no, no, too journal-y! Remove context from this, right now! No more personal shit for this post.<br />
<br />
There is a comedian who oftentimes performs in the Los Angeles area. Sometimes, they perform in front of people who spend a lot of time blogging, as was the case last night. His name is Chris D'Elia. He is very funny on the right night. Some folks find his style of audience interaction pretty amazing, as he spends a lot of his set just making jokes derived from things in the crowd. He does normal jokes, but he's obviously a quick guy, kinda goofy and endearing in a strange way.<br />
<br />
It's good stuff, check it out (this isn't that strong, but indicative of what he does a lot):<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/zRCmUui6Uu4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
Also, his laugh is funny and he calls someone a "gigglepuss" in this video. Which has to count for something.<br />
<br />
Have a good weekend.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-88749163826800253392011-02-24T19:57:00.000-08:002011-02-24T19:57:42.526-08:00AftermathSo that vomit outside my apartment I joked about last night got decidedly unfunny today when I found out that some of it was splattered on my car. Why my car and parking spot were the chosen spot for heaps of vomit in different areas on and around my car, I'll never know.<br />
<br />
What I do know now is that it is very hard to find a simple automatic car wash in the city. There aren't any simple one stop, put in seven dollars and get everything cleaned and dry places in the city, it seems. There's always a catch, and I'm not one for catches.<br />
<br />
Anyway, this has all put me in a fairly bad mood, which severely inhibited upon me writing something of significance today*. So I'm going to leave you with this, and spare you of me just being in a bad mood and bitching about being inconsiderate with choice of vomiting-locations.<br />
<br />
Also, "Community" is about to come on, so I wanna watch that instead of write.<br />
<br />
Good evening.<br />
<br />
*That and getting sidetracked by the Bulls-Heat gameSpencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-19486472943677678262011-02-23T22:19:00.000-08:002011-02-23T22:19:12.556-08:00Warnings From the FutureIf you know me, you know how much I like wormholes, time travel, and the idea that I oftentimes return from the future to fuck with myself in the past.<br />
<br />
Which is why I'm worried tonight.<br />
<br />
You see, it started out like any other night. I sat in my room thinking that I should get food, but was too lazy to walk a block down the street to Pete's Burgers to get a pastrami sandwich before it closed. I was not lazy enough to ditch the plan altogether, however, and walked at around 9:30, when they were long closed. No worries, though, as I walked a half block away and bought a 12 pack of Miller Light, because we were out of beer at my place, and I like being calorie conscious when relaxing in the evening (ironic that I'm getting a pastrami sandwich then, I know).<br />
<br />
That solved the empty spot in our fridge normally devoted to our favorite hops-based beverage, but not the empty spot in my stomach (and for that matter, not the empty spot in my soul that I'm hoping a woman will fill with her love one day, but that's really neither here nor there). Determined to get a slightly greasy sandwich and some fries while I'm at it, I resolved to drive out to Chano's*.<br />
<br />
Now, the last time I had a pastrami from Chano's was freshman year. I felt awful afterwards. Like, really really terribly nauseous, and it should be noted that I was dead sober, because if you know what Chano's is, you know it is very rarely visited by sober folk. So I realized going into this trip that I'm rolling the dice, but you know, when I want a pastrami and fries, I can't be denied.<br />
<br />
But my confidence was deterred when I returned to my apartment to find a sizeable pile of vomit at the top of my parking space.<br />
<br />
I didn't inspect it closely, and it was dark out, and furthermore who really inspects vomit? But what I did see was frightening.<br />
<br />
Fries. Lots of em.<br />
<br />
<i>Oh shit</i>, I thought. <i>Future Spencer is warning me about this pastrami! I'm going to get sick from it, then immediately learn how to time travel and warn myself with the vomit! Which I guess has its upside because I learned how to time trav--</i><br />
<br />
I'll spare you the rest of my thought rambling, and bring you up to the present. I'm thoroughly convinced this ominous pile of puke is telling me I should not eat this pastrami, sitting wrapped and harmless in front of me.<br />
<br />
But will I still eat it?<br />
<br />
Yeah, probably. But at least I won't be able to say I didn't warn me.<i> </i> <br />
<br />
*This was going to be what I originally blogged about today, and my title was going to be "Triumph of the Will," which would mean the blog would service as a long setup to me realizing that I named a blog post after an infamous piece of Nazi propaganda filmmaking at the end of said post. Because I think stuff like that's funny.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-64312510902135601622011-02-22T17:31:00.000-08:002011-02-22T17:31:08.582-08:00Manufacturing a Muse/MentorI won't say writer's block has finally settled down in full on me at this point in trying to blog every day, because honestly it's probably more a result of laziness that I'm less jazzed about writing a big ol' post in the last few days, as Monday's post might have indicated.<br />
<br />
As such, I took it upon myself to create a muse and/or mentor this morning while I was waking up and half-awake because I made plans too early (and yes, my "early" plans were at 11:30, but early is relative so whatever). I didn't realize this at the time, but I certainly did at 5 PM when I was like, "alright, let's get today's damn blog done," followed by grumbling and watching a few videos on Youtube.<br />
<br />
Anyways, here he is:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvni5j9xzdGXSyRvrgvG_SABAd27vZu46wLu-WnRpxgiMp1mXQmAaUKBEORz0kVTAcKAa51RBlpxNf9xuTImetPR05omUsBZKk4nQKsl1CMbyAio4UWG5PZU6ustNmvNF7_5D5ZyUVG4/s1600/IMAG0025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvni5j9xzdGXSyRvrgvG_SABAd27vZu46wLu-WnRpxgiMp1mXQmAaUKBEORz0kVTAcKAa51RBlpxNf9xuTImetPR05omUsBZKk4nQKsl1CMbyAio4UWG5PZU6ustNmvNF7_5D5ZyUVG4/s320/IMAG0025.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
He currently is chilling in my desk drawer, positioned at an angle where his thoughtful/intense gaze is positioned to either look at me disapprovingly for not having written my blog that day or his eyes are looking up and into space, so I can imagine that if he were real, he'd tell me something profound and cryptic, such as "I'm still surprised that this cement ditch is what we call a river in these parts," which would hopefully jar my brain onto some profound stuff about cities and whatnot.<br />
<br />
But since I drew him today, I'll worry about the things he has to say tomorrow. Creating a mentor from a doodle is enough creative energy spent for a Tuesday, and I didn't even have time to give him a background. I'm feeling pretty tired right now, so maybe I'll do that while I'm half-way into nap territory.<br />
<br />
That or think of a name for this guy.<br />
<br />
By the by, I mentioned a while back that I might start trying to incorporate drawing or comics and stuff into this blog, and this is me kind of trying to segue into that. You, kind readership, have the power of stopping this by saying my drawings are boring.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-28940492142432599712011-02-21T18:56:00.000-08:002011-02-21T18:56:45.034-08:00SilverlakeMy roommate and I, being without a lease in a few months as we will have both graduated, decided to test the waters and look around at places to live once this whole college thing is out of our systems.<br />
<br />
Me being as lazy as I am basically just tagged along as we went to places Zach had decided he wanted to see. That's not a bad thing, it just means a lot of them are in Hipsterville, USA, also known as the Silverlake/Los Feliz area. We both walk the line when it comes to being actual hipsters, so I guess it made sense, but I made sure to wear my Nike t-shirt and do some push-ups before I went there just to separate myself from the pack*.<br />
<br />
When we got to the first location on our stop, we came down a street void of hipsters, and full of older, working-class folk. Not what I expected.<br />
<br />
Then a brown rooster walked out in the middle of the road and two pitbull-looking dogs sat and stared at our oncoming car from the roof of the garage of the place we were hoping to look at.<br />
<br />
Definitely not what I expected.<br />
<br />
Here I was worried about hipsters when my primary concern should have been poultry and pitbulls. It seems like I learn a new lesson about Los Angeles and the consequences of being presumptuous every day.<br />
<br />
*I didn't actually do any push-ups.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-85618342502715896852011-02-20T15:50:00.000-08:002011-02-20T15:50:28.915-08:00My Week Back in SD in a NutshellI thought for thirty minutes the other day about how it's kind of lame that I don't have a job, and spent a whole lot of time just hanging out on a couch doing nothing this week other than playing NBA 2k11.<br />
<br />
Then I thought, how many people with jobs have gotten their players in Create-A-Player mode up to an 83 overall rating?<br />
<br />
I think it's those working folk that have their priorities in the wrong place.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-62525615782000468762011-02-19T21:06:00.000-08:002011-02-19T21:07:33.182-08:00Throwback FridayYesterday, I planned to go to the movies in my 85 Toyota Pickup while wearing clothes I would've worn (or actually did wear) in high school. As a fan of nostalgia, I thought this was a great idea; I have fond memories of the parts of high school where I was able to drive, and I was going to see <i>The King's Speech</i>, which I hear is good.<br />
<br />
Then I misread the time, my stereo didn't work, and I'm pretty sure I almost crashed three times on the way there because the weather was so bad. So I ended up keeping my car in the Edwards parking lot while I waited for the weather to clear (hopefully) overnight. So instead of having a throwback Friday, we ended up going to TGI Fridays and then watching a few episodes of "Louie" before I fell asleep because I do not have the impressive insomniac skills my friends do.<br />
<br />
Just goes to show that you can't go back to the good ol' days, no matter how hard you try.<br />
<br />
But so as to not end this post on a negative note, there were some pretty good dunks in the dunk competition today. I thought it kinda sucked that Griffin won with such a pageant type dunk when he was so solid for the first few without gimmicks and whatnot, but it was also nice he got to dedicate it to his friend who died of cancer, which was a sweet button to the night. Either way though, it was a fun one.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-38099850981121365852011-02-18T20:58:00.000-08:002011-02-18T20:58:53.428-08:00BowlingSomething rings wrong about the <a href="http://www.bowlluckystrike.com/">Lucky Strike</a> bowling alleys. <br />
<br />
I think it's the fact that they have a guest list on their website.<br />
<br />
And it's not even that the first two names on said list list are Christina Aguilera and David Arquette. That's fine, if a bit dated; it's that the list is even there.<br />
<br />
I'll paraphrase Squeak Scolari from <i>Baseketball</i> here: bowling is "A game where guys with bad backs and bad knees can get together and compete on the same field as guys that are all goosed up on steroids." It's not a night club, and therefore there should be no guest lists or celebrity quality to a bowling alley. That ruins the fun of bowling alleys.<br />
<br />
East County San Diego is a one-bowling alley type of town. San Diego county, I believe, is a four-bowling alley type of county. None of which are Lucky Strike lanes.<br />
<br />
Rather, and I mean this as a compliment, I think most of them are shitholes. I know the Parkway Bowl in East County is, because I bowled there today. And again, I mean "shithole" as a compliment. That's what bowling alleys are supposed to be. A place where elitism isn't allowed. Salt of the earth, you know.<br />
<br />
I enjoy bowling, but equally so I enjoy the feel of a bowling alley. The fact that most of them feel like they've been around for forever, and they were never quite funny, but the place you'd hang out with with your friends when you were anywhere other than cool and in your twenties, if that makes sense.<br />
<br />
Lucky Strike ruins that. I bet you there's no wood paneling anywhere in a Lucky Strike lane, and the drinks are expensive.<br />
<br />
That being said, I've enjoyed places like that. Zodo's in Santa Barbara is quite neat, even though it's a little futuristic and trendy looking. But there's a key difference: they have White Russian specials during happy hour. That means they know their audience--not so much cool trendy folk, as their aesthetic would let on to, but rather college kids who like booze and <i>The Big Lebowski. </i>For that, Zodo's gets a free pass on lacking wood paneling.<br />
<br />
Also, they don't have a guest list.<br />
<br />
And I realize that writing all of this about aesthetics and qualities of bowling alleys thereby makes me elitist and invalidates a lot of what I just wrote. But hey, it's the internet, and a blog, and pretentiousness is needed to make a point every once in a while. Plus, only about fifteen people read this, and much like me, are quite willing to give me free passes if I don't make sense every once in a while. Thanks.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-7209215182172366922011-02-17T17:03:00.000-08:002011-02-17T17:03:26.432-08:00An Odd Future Filled with Wild ThingsI was going to dedicate this whole blog post to <a href="http://oddfuture.com/">Odd Future</a>, a precocious group of folk that what may well become my newfound obsession after two of them <a href="http://pitchfork.com/news/41608-watch-odd-futures-insane-fallon-performance/">tore shit up on Fallon last night</a>, but I realized that was the easy pitfall for a bored blogger to blog about today.<br />
<br />
They're young, nuts, provocative, whathaveyou, Wu-Tang comparison, punk rock rap hybrid, do a whole lotta rape lyrics. Ponderings follow, opinion.<br />
<br />
There; I just summed up what most people will write about them today, or have written about them already. I'm kind of late on this game, so eff it.<br />
<br />
What I will say is that it's almost annoying at how precocious their leader, Tyler the Creator, is. It's not annoying, just almost. He's a pretty interesting producer, an alright rapper, and apparently alright at graphic art. But the fact that he seems like he could be a pretty neat visual filmmaker or music video director, as evidenced by the video in the first link on this post (Note: it's kind of gross, on both visceral and thematic levels, just as a warning), makes me feel quite inept. But like most of this blog, that's more about me, and less about this dude.<br />
<br />
On that note, I'm not writing much about them because I just found out that <i>Where the Wild Things Are </i>is apparently playing on HBO now, meaning two things: 1) I'm gonna have to make sure my parents don't catch me getting misty-eyed over giant monsters traipsing about and 2) watching it got me sidetracked on my blog again today.<br />
<br />
I've written about it before after I first watched it, so I don't wanna repeat myself, but I will say that for as divisive as the movie is, I think it's probably the most accurate and perfect coming-of-age story you could ever make. Spike Jonze made more sense out of monsters on an island being a realistic metaphor for what growing up means than John Hughes or John Hughes high school flick-imitators ever could*. Imagination, confusion, and sadness-without-knowing-why all balled up into one flick about finally being able to reflect on what one does and how it affects others and how the world actually works versus how you want it to work is really an amazing thing, even if you think it's a bad movie. And plenty of people do think it's bad.<br />
<br />
I think they're wrong, but mainly because this transformation is what I spent so much of my life going through. It's not unusual that Spike Jonze makes a movie that caters (in my mind) specifically to me. I walked around with my imagination taking precedence over what the physical world provided me, and when people weren't in on my games, I got sad for no reason, and pissed people off for reasons unknown. <br />
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I'm rambling too much about a movie that deserves not to be rambled about, but experienced and quietly reflected upon, so I'm switching the emphasis of this to my point. People seemed to not like it because they figured it should be a childrens' movie that kind of ended up catering to, well, me, or adults in general.<br />
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So what would it be like if I had watched this movie as a kid? Back when I was feeling those things, would I still feel a kindred spirit in Max and Jonze's flick in general, or would I hate it?<br />
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It's a question I'll never be able to answer, and I don't know how to feel about that: glad I'll never know and love it the way I do, or sad that maybe I could've figured out a little bit quicker that people kind of get what was happening in my crazy mixed-up brain of mine as a kid.<br />
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Alright, sentimentality over. I'm off to go download some mixtapes of strange shocking rap by precocious kids.<br />
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*That is not a knock on either of those groups; I love those movies, but they don't exactly provide the best template for what growing up should be, says the bitter late bloomer.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2644848288469161200.post-40532616215628300752011-02-16T21:17:00.000-08:002011-02-16T21:17:14.838-08:00Exposure to the NorthI put off today's blog for a majority of the day, mainly because I was quite void of any substantial thought today. Not that it was a bad thing; I'm a firm believer that too much thought, or prolonged thought, especially in a negative quality (as my mind is wont to wander towards, sad to say) can lead to some bad shit. I don't think it's a mistake that many of the outrageously brilliant people I've met in my life, or even read about, were a little bit off-kilter or kinda down most of the time. Not to group myself in with the brilliant sect or anything, I'm just saying it was a nice day off from deep thought*.<br />
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I was gonna draw something and post it on here, because forcing myself to write once a day has been pretty effective in reminding me that I enjoy writing a ton, and I <i>used </i>to be madly in love with doodling and comic-style art, but it fell to the wayside as college (and, by that extension, lethargy in mass amounts on the weekends) came around. My doodles in margins lowered exponentially throughout those four years, so I may try to institute a comic day, or two, on this blog, to reinvigorate that.<br />
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But you're not here to read about that, because I didn't draw anything today. What I did do was finally launch myself back into the world of "Northern Exposure." I don't readily talk about it, as it isn't on Netflix and kinda isn't really my friends' cups of tea, but it probably ranks as either my first or second favorite show ever. It's sweet, funny, and smart in ways that still knock me out every time I watch an episode. They pull off a lot of the aspects of two of my other favorite shows of all time would do much later in the decade or the new millenium, and what shows from this decade seem to lack in a way that "Northern Exposure" has. There are a few that come close, and many of them are good, but none of them, I think, will have the emotional impact that "Northern Exposure" has.<br />
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Anyways, this got me thinking about my favorite shows of all time, as I usually do when I watch one of the select few. The list is obviously constantly evolving as more shows come on (not to jinx things, but "Community" is orbiting the list depending on how strong it stays, and "The Wire" would probably be on there if I watched the whole thing), but there's something I've noticed about the television I enjoy.<br />
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Most of the shows I love all come solidly from the 90s and 2000s. There could be confounding variables at work on this one, as I was only in existence for these two eras, and missed out on the must-see-TV from eras B.S. (Before Spencer, that is, because I am that vain). But that doesn't mean I haven't given episodes of "Cheers," "Mash," and a bunch of Norman Lear television shows I watched in my Intro to Television class a shot. They don't have as much of an effect on me as something like "Northern Exposure" or "Friday Night Lights" does. Heck, none of them are as creative and awesome as "Arrested Development," another favorite but not quite in the same category as those other two. I take my television watching seriously.<br />
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Now, is this because television has constantly evolved over time, and I just got around for the apex of it? I just did the math, the first television broadcasts as we know it happened around 53 years before I came along. Likewise, film as a commercial art form started getting serious around the fifties or sixties, which puts its prominent period right around a half-century after the technology was first around.<br />
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Did I arrive at the truly awesome era of television, with more good years yet to come, or am I just making up weird numerical comparisons because I just generally like things from my era better? And if the fifty year rule is true, how awesome are video games gonna be in a decade or so?<br />
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I'm not sure. This blog was meant as a conversation starter, or at least it is now, because I feel I've blown the bliss of my non-thinking day at this point, and I'd much rather watch a few more episodes of "Northern Exposure" before it gets any worse.<br />
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*Also, getting a job would probably help. Still working on that.Spencer Vickershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04776402787092770683noreply@blogger.com1