And this timeline of the Lost universe. Which yes, is begrudgingly built in Flash (but the Times are about the only place doing interesting things with Flash, so…)
I’m lucky enough to have force-fed myself enough roleplaying games and science fiction comics to have picked up English to a level where I’m often more fluent in it, than I am in my mothertongue. And for the purposes of of blogging about those two particular subjects, whatever grammar, puntuation and structure snafus that happen to find their way onto this blog are less a real worry than they merely distracting (and at times embarrassing).
But if one were to take writing more seriously, be it for personal, academic or straight-up professional reasons, a friend of a friend of mine recently started a site that’ll do just that, hassle-free.
I don’t generally plug things on this site unless I truly like them. And until I tried Wordy, I honestly didn’t know what use I could have for it. But listen, Wordy gets it.
It’s on-demand copy-editing, and it’s ultra slick. No hassles, no clutter, no crap. I took it for a test-run on a chapter from a book another friend of mine is writing, and the experience couldn’t have been better. If for nothing else, you should check it out just to marvel at the elegance of how they’ve set up the site and how clear their process and goal is.
Particularly interesting to some of us, is that they’re working specifically on a WordPress plugin, which should make it even easier to use. They’ve also got a blog (in Danish).
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some K2 code to clean up.
We visited the Ranch during our three-week US roadtrip a few months ago, and I’ve been longing to go back ever since. Nestled in the hills a 40-minute drive north of San Francisco, hidden from view of the road and comprising all the land around it, as far as you can see, and about ten times more, Skywalker Ranch is without a doubt the geek haven.
You take a turn from the aptly named, but otherwise unrelated, Lucas Valley Road, pass through a security checkpoint—yes, the guards arm-patch has an X-Wing on it—where you’re given a small map of the area, and then a winding forest road, complete with 1920’s harvesters nostalgically littered by the roadside to give the impression of a long and all-american history (which never was), takes you around Lake Ewok and up to the main house.
It’s beautiful. Quiet. Standing there, you instantly ‘get’ why Lucas decided to skip LA and build the ranch for the money from Empire and Jedi; here you can think and talk and go about your business undisturbed by the stress and superficiality of Hollywood.
And it really is nestled in amongst the hills, the backs of which rise up all around, and on which the cattle—yes, it’s a fully working farm, complete with livestock and crops—roam free, content and ignorant of them getting to live in the geek-Xanadu of the planet.
A lot can be said, and lot has, about George Lucas, but despite the scope of this place and what it represents, if it is in any way ‘extravagant’, it would be in how it isn’t extravagant. Yes, it’s large and it has everything from an observatory to one of the most amazing and beautiful research libraries in the film industry and the best sound editing facilities, including what is perhaps one of the best theaters in the world, as well as an inn, a complete fitness center, a café and a restaurant and even a general store… Oh, and its own fire station. And a 200-lot underground parking garage.
But it’s exactly because it has all of this, yet flaunts none of it, that it is so impressive.
For instance, as we were leaving, we wanted to make one last stop at the store; you know, to score some loot (pens, t-shirts, chili sauce—the usual). But to get to it we had to park by the side of the road, and walk through a small stretch of forest, cross the bridge over a small stream and up a small path until suddenly we were mere meters from the building. There it was. And you couldn’t see it from looking at it, but it had a tennis court and swimming pool as well as a restaurant. Nestled; I’m telling you.
Incidentally, as we returned to the car, our arms filled with aforementioned loot; we saw a sight I wish to this day we had captured on video. It would have gone viral in ways I can only dream long wet dreams of.
You see, the Ranch is nothing if not cozy and homely. An old plow here, a gate covered in vines there. And by the side of the road next to our car there was an honor-system produce stand—the kind that would make Martha Stewart soft in her knees. Bell pebbers, lettuce, garlic and cucumbers as far as the eye could see. And tomatoes. And a deer. Eating the tomatoes. Not just eating though, but carefully, thoughtfully and with the greatest of non-chalance cherry-picking them one at a time. It sees us, and we see it. And it slowly lowers its head, the tongue comes out, feels its way around the tomatoes; ow-there’s a good one. Yoink. The nerve of this deer. It glances at us with a look that can only be described as the ‘what?’-look, and continues to chew the tomato leisurely and thoroughly, before its tongue goes to search for another. No, not that one… No… Yeah, that’s the stuff.
Our photo seance was soon interrupted by the groundsman, as he came waltzing over the road, and in the tone one would use with a disobedient, but utterly adorable child exclaimed: “Noooo, that’s not for you! Go on, get out of here.” After which the deer, slightly annoyed, but still sporting a healthy attitude, prances across the road and into the bushes.
He would be back, I could tell.
If I hadn’t already fallen in love with California and the ranch before, I did then and there.
And Rikke, she was well sold by the time we made it to the research library, which deserves an honorary mention all of its own.
You can enter it from the main house, the bottom floor of which consists of a café, a meeting room or two as well as the famous display case with the lightsabers, AT-AT’s and that damned crystal skull. But from the moment you step foot in it, contrary to the rest of what we saw of the main house, it feels ‘real’. Lived in. The rest is all very neat and tidy and almost too museum-like for it too feel homely; but the library is all its own. A stroll over to an entirely arbitrary shelf revealed a healthy tome on ‘Mythology’, ‘Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets’, ‘A History of Religious Ideas’ and the like. Another shelf held ‘Cults, Customs and Superstitions of India’, a well-worn gold embossed title worthy of Indy himself, as well as ‘The Coasts of India and ‘The Last Maharajas’.
You get the point. It was like stumbling into a live set, bathed in the light from the famous glass domed ceiling. Or infamous, if you count the fact that Marcia Lucas had an affair with the man who designed said dome, which subsequently led to their divorce; an annoying little nugget of history inexorably tied to the Ranch.
The library is, as mentioned an actual research library, and holds considerably more books than in the main house, most of which have come from old studio libraries—Paramount in the late 80’s and Universal in 2000—put up for sale and snatched up by Lucas. The stories I’ve heard told of the collection are considerable and impressive. Michael Rubin did much of his research for DroidMaker down there, and enthusiastically retells the story of how he was left alone with a stack of boxes while the staff were busy prepping for Episode III. The town was went to, and then some. Reportedly Lucas dragged all of his notes, files and folders in there and there they remain.
If ever there was a nexus for geekdom, it’s in that library.
But I digress.
Our time was short, and we too soon left the Ranch behind—as well as the visitors map, unfortunately, a prime souvenir if there ever was one—and started the winding trip back to San Francisco to drop off our gracious hosts Tara and Leslie at Lucas’s other campus in San Francisco
Thank you again guys, you rock!
Anyway, I was reminded by and decided to finally get around to doing this write-up because Philip Bloom, whose work I’ve envied for some time, recently visited Skywalker Ranch and shot this extraordinary mood-piece there, which stands in sharp contrast to how sweltering it was when we visited.
Next time I hope to stay at the inn and peruse the library for a few hours… One can dream.
Update, March 17th, 2010: A couple of years ago two guys from Io went to visit Skywalker Ranch as guests of Matthew Wood. I convinced them to let me post this video of theirs, from the visit:
Which of course goes hand in hand with our visit last year.
Update, March 18th, 2010: As fate would have it, Philip Bloom just posted a new video from the countryside around the ranch:
My Skywalker Ranch Flickr Set
Skywalker Sound has a great deal about the technical building
The Rather Slim Wikipedia Article
A great and lengthy LA Times article by Geoff Boucher no longer available at the latimes.com
A 1986 Visit
Dan Goldwassers Trip to The Ranch
Justin Derban visits the Ranch
AWN visits part one and part two
Steve Simon Visits
The week before last, when Rikke and I were doing what we do best—namely nothing—I read, in-amongst several other books, the 1983 George Lucas biography by Dale Pollock, Skywalking: The Life and Films of George Lucas.
Now, I wouldn’t say that I’m obsessive compulsive about Star Wars, or George Lucas for that matter—others would; I don’t flatter myself that way—but I’m certainly a fan above the ordinary, having read several biographies, not to mention a whole heap of other books related either directly to Star Wars or the industries that sprung up in its wake. So, I’ve been around the block on this… Once or twice.
But before you get the wrong idea, let me just run some damage control on this, to make it sound less pathetic; me being after all a 30-year-old man with about a meters-worth of Star Wars books.
You see, it isn’t Star Wars, or George Lucas, or Lucasfilm, or the plentiful satellite companies, or the pop culture references, or the John Williams soundtracks, or the Lucas-Coppola connection, or the Lucas-Spielberg connection, or any of that stuff. It’s all of it and more.
Somehow, this particular branch of New Hollywood and the late 70’s became the ground zero of my creative inspiration, and for some inexplicable reason, the whole scene leading up to and coming down from Star Wars has become some sort of freaky creative nexus for me, from which I can replenish my energy in times of doubt and reaffirm my reason for doing what I believe in, despite… Well, despite whatever.
I’m not a collector, I don’t dress up as a Java (publicly), I don’t list my religion as Jedi on the census, I don’t write fan-fiction and so far I haven’t had any (too long, well choreographed, but otherwise uninteresting) fan films featured on theforce.net (but I wager that I can take most of my friends in Star Wars trivial pursuit).
Anyway; I read Skywalking, and I loved it. I often chastise Rikke for her (minimal) tabloid tendencies, but admittedly, when it comes to my idols, I’ve got the same blood flowing in my veins.
But it’s not that I care particularly about his no. 2 pencil or which brand of plaid Lucas digs. Rather, I’ve found that Lucas’s life is an endearing and heart-breaking story, not only in terms of his output, which has gone from the experimenting (and I think, genius) through the fantastic to the bland and at times downright obnoxious.
But what most people don’t know, is how Lucas’s personal life has followed a much more dramatic and it would seem, tragic arc. From the no-good car-geek to the cinema-wonder-kind and business giant who broke all the rules and did exactly what he wanted, and won. And who in doing so, lost not only his wife, Marcia, but also his boisterous mentor, Francis Ford Coppola and many other friends in the process.
Lucas’s own life is so fascinating, dramatic and (as I read it) tragic, that it would be a wonder if a bio-pic didn’t see the light of day sooner or later.
And if it does, Skywalking will no doubt be one of its main sources, and rightly so. Because despite it being 25-years old at the time of my writing this, no one else has ever had such free access to Lucas, his family and his friends and written about it.
And of course, Lucas never made the same mistake twice.
Few people have had to bear the brunt of so much success and at the same time so much failure as Lucas. The Citizen Kane comparison is apt. And while this book can’t make you unwatch Indy IV, perhaps reading it—supplementing with the suggestions below—will make him appear in a different light than the childhood-raping-Binks-loving-effects-whoring once great filmmaker he has gotten a rep for these days.
Now, for those of you out there, who like me, find this period of cinema not only fascinating, but sustaining, here’s some supplementary reading, have fun:
The Cinema of George Lucas is a great companion piece to Skywalking. It goes all the way up to Episode II, but is generally something of a fluff-piece. But what the book fails to yield in honesty, it gives in full-color photos. And plenty of them; including from Lucas’s earliest films, not available anywhere else (to my knowledge).
The Making of Star Wars, is amazing. Filled to the brim with never-before-seen photos and background information, it really is definitive. I cannot recommend this enough. Just be sure you grab the hardcover edition, as it has 50 extra pages of storyboards and notes.
The Secret History of Star Wars, which I’ve talked about before. It’s a bit too exhaustive at times, but it is so well researched and such a piece of work (and free), that to not read it, would be a damn shame. As a companion piece to, and extension of, The Making of Star Wars, it’s fan-tastic. There really is a secret history of Star Wars, and it’s gripping.
Once Upon a Galaxy (A Journal of the Making of The Empire Strikes Back), has a ridiculously long title, is relatively quickly read and touches only peripherally on the overall picture of Lucas’s life and the New Hollywood scene in general. It’s a good look behind the scenes (with a few truly wonderful nuggets of gold) and worth mentioning if only to bring it to the attention of anyone who might not know of it.
Droid Maker: George Lucas and the Digital Revolution, which is a true pearl. A gem. A piece of radiated moon-rock! Fantastic. I cannot recommend it enough. Everything about how ILM came to be, the Edit Droid, Pixar and all the other revolutionary companies that followed after Star Wars. Do yourself a favor, and follow up with…
The Pixar Touch touches only slightly on Lucas and ILM, but is not only a good read in itself, but also gives a great insight into how Hollywood came to be what it is today.
The Complete Making of Indiana Jones is nowhere near as good as the Star Wars equivalent, but then it also covers all four movies, where the Star Wars book only covers the first film. And honestly, it’s a bit too back-clapping. But as a fan, you can’t really get around it, and in reconstructing the Spielberg/Lucas timeline, it’s indispensable.
Spielberg probably didn’t vomit every morning before he went onto the set of Jurassic Park, but the story has it that he did when he made Amblin’Steven Spielberg – A Biography by Joseph McBride, page 159, as related by Donald Heitzer, assistant camera man on Amblin’.
Largely a silent movie, running at 25 minutes, made and marketed for the even by late-60’s measly sum of $20.000Wikipedia says $15.000, but is unsourced. My Spielberg biography has it at $20.000, which looks to be a quote from Denis Hoffman, who put up the budget for the film. I’m guessing the film itself was $15.000 and marketing was $5000., Amblin’ is the first film the then 22-year-old Spielberg shot on 35mm. And it is a fantastic look at the pure unbridled potential that was and is Steven Spielberg.
Filming started June 6th, 1968, spent a weekend on a set at a soundstage belonging to Cinefx, a company owned by Denis Hoffman, who funded and produced the short film. Here it almost got cancelled, when Spielberg and Allen Daviau (whose work on Amblin’ is wonderful, and who went on to do E.T, Empire of the Sun and The Color Purple with Spielberg) spent three times the allotted 35mm stock. After this, it spent 8 days in the baking melting unbearable heat of the southern California desert, where unpaid crew quit left and right.
Once filming wrapped, Spielberg himself spent 6 weeks of his nights cutting the three hours of footage down to the 25 minute final piece, in a lent editing room, while listening to soundtracks on his record player.
And finally, after having it shown to Sidney Sheinberg, he got his big break in the shape of a 7-year contract for Universal, doing TV series, before finally doing Duel. Then The Sugarland Express. And then finally in 1975, Jaws.
I’m telling you this, because until recently, to see Amblin’, you would have had to either have gone to the library of a film school, where I’ve heard that they have copies abound. Or, you could pick it up on eBay in a poor VHS-quality copy priced at $20. Or finally, if you were extremely lucky, you might have seen it at one of its exceedingly rare screenings.
The good news is that someone finally got their act together, and it is now available not only on Youtube (haven’t embedded, as I think you should view it fullscreen), but also as a 350MB download! The bad news is that it looks to be the very VHS copy that has been floating around eBay. So the picture falters at times, and there’s an issue with the loudness of the audio; but it is most definitely watchable (and a huge ol’ bear-hug to whoever got this thing online!).
It’s so interesting to find these old first outings by accomplished directors, as they so often end up being a major influence on their later work; and despite all the limitations and restrictions (or perhaps because of them), it feels almost as if these are their most honest films.
Take James Cameron’s Xenogenesis for instance. Overly ambitious, techno-centric and more interested in effects and the uh-ah’s of its sci-fi setting than in bringing any kind of humanity to its characters. Fast-forward, and notice how little changed over the years, except Cameron’s understanding that to get all of this science fiction stuff he was dreaming up on to the screen, he had to be better at dealing with the human aspect.
Kind of explains the slightly stiff and by-the-numbers (though riveting) scripts he has a tendency to churn out.
With Amblin’, you have the diametric opposite. Spielberg’s first outing is all about humanity, love, feelings, innocence and all the other softness for which he has since become almost infamous. Whatever tech-lust Spielberg might have, goes on behind the lens, not in front of it. And despite moving on to do some pretty tech-heavy films (Jurassic Park for instance), he almost always keeps the human side of things front and center. Especially so in the early part of his career, which is, I’ll admit, the best.
Spielberg himself doesn’t think much of the film, calling it “a great Pepsi commercial” with as much soul and content as a piece of driftwood.”, which would explain why it hasn’t seen commercial release
And even went so far as to say that he couldn’t “look at it now. It really proved how apathetic I was during the sixties. When I look back at that film, I can easily say, ‘No wonder I didn’t go to Kent State,’ or ‘No wonder I didn’t go to Vietnam or I wasn’t protesting when all my friends were carrying signs and getting clubbed in Century City.’ I was off making movies, and Amblin’ is the slick by-product of a kid immersed up to his nose in film.”Same, page 161.
But you know, not only is Spielberg underselling himself in terms of the emotional and social ‘story’ Amblin’ is able to deliver without a single spoken word, he’s also underselling how personal the film probably is to him when it comes right down to it.
You can still sense his playfulness and light-hearted hand in all the films he did up through the 70’s and early 80’s. And I sometimes wish that he could go back and do something in that same vein again. I still love his films. But there is no doubt that the ‘films for films sake’ film maker now lives in the shadow of the socially and politically conscious film maker that has delivered some very sincere films, which, while still head and neck above most of the competition, haven’t lived up to the pinnacle of E.T., even after all these years.
Somehow it seems particularly apt that Amblin’ Entertainment’s logo is composed of the word Amblin’, his first film, and Elliot and E.T. on the bike, crossing the moon, from his, to his own admission, most personal film.
And now that Amblin’ has surfaced for all to see, the next thing to keep an eye out for it Spielberg’s own 8mm ‘making of’ footage from the shoot, allegedlySo says Daviau locked away in Spielberg’s personal vault.
PS: Spielberg currently owns the rights to Amblin’, having bought them back from Denis Hoffman in 1978. If you’re so inclined you can also have a gander and just over a minute’s worth of Escape to Nowhere (originally 40 minutes, made when he was in highschool) and about a minute Firelight (a 140 minutes precusor to Close Encounters. You can find out more on Wikipedia), both clips are unfortunately without sound.
This entry is littered with Supervixen spoilers, and really needs for you to have seen at least this, and preferably more Russ Meyer films to appreciate properly.
Not that he needs me to come to his defence, but it struck me, as I was watching Supervixens yesterday, that the erotic facets of Russ Meyer’s films undoubtedly, and unfairly, devaluate them even in the minds of people who would otherwise hail their actual artistic merits.
At best, Supervixens or Up! are films that are written off as ‘pseudo-porn’. A major disservice to the auteur-like magnificence of their surreal structure, hyper-sex and hyper-violence, not to mention the wonderfully colorful and absolutely caricatured characters who inhabit what can only be though of as the desert world of Road Runner, if but for adults.
And no, I can’t fully defend his gratuitous use of naked breasts, at least not without myself believing that it is in fact gratuitous. Hell, I don’t know if he could defend it himself. So it’s perhaps not without reason that his films are considered cheeky, campy and sexploitatious, well before they are considered masterpieces.
But dammit, I can’t help but adore these films for their brass. And no, it’s not just because they speak to my Y-chromosome, though that they also do.
I’m a fairly desensitized chap, when it comes to film violence. I ‘read’ it, but I rarely react to it. But the killing of Supervixen, in all its self-indulgence, brought home its violence in a way I haven’t felt since Alex in A Clockwork Orange.
Here it is for reference, and I’m not kidding you when I tell you that this isn’t a light-hearted scene:
And hey, being a hippie-liberal, I actually believe that nudity is good for me, you, society and the world at large.
Imagine a world, where Janet’s breast-‘slip’ triggered not a country-wide stand-still and public outcry, but smiles, giggles and… And you’d have Denmark. But I digress.
Yeah, it’s a sex film. So what? Hollywood saturates the world with violent films every day. And they may be cut for children, but what’s worse, eye-to-eye sex-glorification or subverted death-glorification?
Michael Bay, I’m a-lookin’ at you and that bastard of a film you call Bad Boys II…
Another thing was brought home to me, about the time (Super) Eula gets it on with a weightlifter who came running down a road (and who keeps lifting his weights throughout the whole thing) in the midst of the Arizona Desert, and followingly when Super Angel, who turned into Super Vixen, explodes into existence atop a mountain, bleeding, from which she then gains pleasure…
Russ Meyer is the ying to David Lynch’s yang…
Stay with me.
Because really, if you see through the layers of brooding evil and mystique that encapsulate a film like Lost Highway, and likewise downplay the cheekier parts (and fair enough, some redundancy) of Supervixens, they are eerily similar in their use of sometimes seemingly, and most often entirely, abstract montage elements.
David Lynch is actually trying to paint for us the insides of his dreams (or transcendental meditations as it were), and Meyer seems mostly to want to entertain—even if a move like Supervixens actually does drive home some points—but both use many of the same ‘tricks’, leaving large parts of the story unexplained, outside the pattern we expect as audience. And the rest is up to us to figure out.
As for empowering (or depowering) women, that’s another discussion entirely. I’ll take spunky half-naked well-endowed women from the 70’s, any day over the leading man-following woman-template Hollywood most often steps to. (No hate, I understand the business).
And yet another discussion, is why 70’s breasts are simply shaped differently (more voluptuous) from breasts of today.
Evolution, design or a question of casting?
Debuting in K2’s Sidebar Manager earlier this evening, Humanized Messages (demo) is a jQuery extension written by me, based on Aza Raskin’s article on transparent non-modal messages.
Transparent messages are the brainchild of Jef Raskin. Itâ€™s simply a large and translucent message thatâ€™s displayed over the contents of your screen. They fade away when the user takes any action (like typing or moving the mouse). In practice, the message is both noticeable yet unobtrusive. And because the message is transparent, you can see whatâ€™s beneath it. Itâ€™s just humane
I’ve tested it in Firefox, Safari and Internet Explorer 7 (thanks to Joen, without whom I would be a wreck of IE loathing), and as near as I can tell, it works across the board.
Enjoyment is your brain rewarding you for recognizing and combining complex and semi-complex patterns in new and—to the brain, because it helps it survive—interesting ways; good brain, here’s a twinkey.
Recognizing patterns and acting on previous experience of similar patterns is what our brain does. Poke the bear with the stick, it attacks. That’s bad. Thus, do not poke the bear with the stick. Lesson learned.
It’s a feedback loop of pattern recognition:”(I recommend On Intelligence if you want to know more about how this feedback loop in particular works. Great book.)”:.
Anyway, the thing is, in the early years of our lives, we learn like a motherfucker, so to speak. The brain trains itself through the feedback loop, to better steer around that hopeless meat sack to which it is attached and on which it is reliant, for energy.
The learning curve is in most cases logarithmic. That is to say, it starts out flat, and then grows steeper and steeper as you move along the length of it. This is a variation on the law of diminishing returns, and it’s a real bitch. You’ll know it from back when you were in school and you were actively forced if not up the curve, then at least along the long axis of it…
Aaanyway, the great thing about the brain is, of course, that it stores your previous experiences, for comparison with the input from the feedback loop.
If there are no previous patterns—let’s call them ‘pattern keys’—which match up with the new input (“what is that noise?!”, “What is he doing!?”), your brain will do its best to cover the embarrassment up by throwing whatever remotely similar patterns it has back down the feedback loop to quickly get to grips with what exactly it is you’re watching, hearing or feeling. “Is that a broken engine? Rock grinding rock? Nope, turns out its the attack call of a bear. Pattern key recorded… Now, RUN!”
The net result of this, is that when confronted with the unknown, people resort to what they know, to shed light on the unknown. Not a big surprise there. They don’t do this because they’re stupid, or because they’re smart. But because that’s what the brain does. “How can I solve this, using only available tools and this input?”.
From there on out, the brain uses the carrot and the stick to shovel those electrical impulses around in ways that might help create a new pattern key for this kind of input in the future. Frustration and boredom are the stick, pride and joy are the carrot. Enough stick and you’re likely to give up and spend your time on something easier. Enough carrot and you feel invigorated and inspired (and important…) enough to keep going and learn more!
Pattern keys are created by your brain from scratch. Though since they’re themselves created from previously acquired pattern keys, you can of course help their creation along. In other words, you might not know how to fix a car, but you know how to use a screwdriver, you understand hose pressure and that if something is hot or electrical, you shouldn’t put your bare-skinned fingers on it, etc.
With enough peripheral pattern keys, creating new ones from previously unseen input becomes considerably easier. Or: The more you know, the easier it is to know more.
And if you keep an ‘open mind’—that is, remain receptive towards the generation of new pattern keys, and not merely rely on the feedback loop to cover up new inputs with the good ‘ol trusty pattern keys—well hell, you might learn something new…
Keep this in mind the next time someone suggests you listen to his or her favorite band, read his or her favorite book (or comic) or tries to persuade you to take up opera.
It might not immediately seem like the thing ‘you’d do’, but where there’s smoke…
So remember: The more you know, there more you can know:”(This is not a free-out-of-jail card to slack on your quality control. Not everything that can be known is worth knowing. Truly.)”:.
Peace out, yo.
I didn’t figure Black Hawk Down as a particularly influential or important movie when it came out. Competent, dashingly handsome and slightly odd in places; but influential? Yet watching the trailer for Call of Duty 4, which I’m sure will be a genuine hoot to play, I see how wrong I was.
Except… judging from the trailer, they made the classic computer game misstep of underestimating the importance of voice acting. Fair enough, I’ve never been in combat, especially with the US Airborne Cavalry (which I’m guessing is what the trailer is portraying), but I nonetheless call a fumbled ball on that gruff macho ‘Do this! Do that! I-eat-gravel-soup hut hut hut!’ order-barking voice of the squad leader (not to mention the ‘look at us, we can shine a red light in the face of a man sucking on a cigar; isn’t it wuuuunderbarrr?”).
The net effect is turning what could have been reasonable human-facsimile’s into cliché-ridden charicatures (at least judging from the trailer…)
In those kinds of situations, post-inserting, pre-incursion as we… well, I… say; the voice would most likely be calm, collected, a tad tense perhaps, but in control. There is no need to add further tension to an already pretty fucking tense situation, better to stay as professional and in-charge as possible.
Developers of any military game should really do themselves a favor and listen to the radio chatter between attack helicopters and the like, to get a feel for just how detached the conversations are under these circumstances (again, this is my experience, based on the material I’ve seen, both while in the army as well as outside).
Off the top of my head there are two other movies in particular that illustrate this example very very well, and the first comes with a great little nugget of a story:
While post-processing and editing Apocalypse Now, one of my all time favorites, Walter Murch (who was one of the, I think it was, four editors on the movie, while also doing the sound) had brought in veteran helicopter pilots from Vietnam to help with building up a library of ‘chopper chatter’, that could be used in the famous Ride of the Valkyries attack run on the village. But what the team on Apocalypse Now did to encourage authenticity, was to blow up the footage from the sequence on a big screen, turn the sound way up, put the veterans in real pilot helmets with a proximity mikes and then take them through the sequence while recording their chatter. According to Murch, the veterans afterwards had expressed surprise at just how life-like the experience had been. And the results, I think, speak for themselves.
Had this been today, and Apocalypse Now was a computer game, the recording of these voices would probably have been the most lackluster experience to walk into, and I don’t blame actors for being unable to deliver convincing performances.
That’s the one film—a sequence, which by the way, still to this day is one of the greatest action set pieces of all time. I recently caught a showing of redux in a local cinema in Copenhagen, and I was awestruck. It remains unparalleled.
Please, do yourself a favor and watch it on the big screen, with a great PA system. The Complete Dossier is fantastic, and well worth importing if you live outside region 1 territory (and do get Hearts of Darkness now that you’re at it).
The other film is… A New Hope. The battle of Yavin is one of the defining differences between the original trilogy and the prequel trilogy (something I’ve spoken of before):
(Now compare and contrast, in particular the way they speak, with The Battle of Naboo from Episode I. No ‘eh’s or ‘ah’s, no chatter filtered through the radio and so on and so forth. Everything they did right in ANH they had forgotten some 20 years later on TPM. All respect to Ben Burt, but someone somewhere goofed up).
And there you have it… a letter opener.
Seriously though, this is a major problem, not just for Call of Duty, but for games in general.
Vast amounts of time is spent making games live up to the promise of ‘next-gen’, and at the end of the day, the sound is probably more important than the visuals, even if it’s harder to slap ‘good sound!’ on the back of the box or on the front cover of EDGE.
So while Black Hawk Down has turned out to be perhaps the modern war movie to immitate, there is still some ways to go before games get to set the bar for realistic protrayal of war.
So Harry Potter 5 is almost upon us, and not that I have any particular Potter fetish (Rikke does though), but I can’t help but be disappointed by the ever more crappy posters being put out for these movies.
What in the hell is that? It’s a photo collage; that’s what it is. And it sucks!
Now this, on the other hand, is a poster. This poster, from the hands of Mr. Struzan himself, looks the way John Williams’ score sounds, and that is a good thing!
What is going on in the heads of these marketing people? Well I guess maybe they have better data than me, but really? Photo collages? The same thing happened to the new Star Wars trilogy as well as the DVD releases, all of which contain horrible photo collages with lightsaber lense flares and what have you.
All those stunning posters, and they have some hack apply lenseflares in Photoshop.
PS: Yes, you’re right, I should do a feature on the best posters ever created by mortal hands.
Not that I thought I had a chance, what with all the real fanatics out there (ahem), but I submitted a childhood photo of me posing behind my precious Star Wars figures to the Wired ‘Fandom Fever’ group on Flickr, as part of their Star Wars anniversary line-up (which is mostly older stuff unfortunately).
Anyway, thanks to some slim pickings, there I am, on Wired.com.
This actually makes me quite happy in a nostalgic kind of way, simply because of the period in my childhood that this particular photo encompasses. My biological father and my mother were still together at this point in time. A few years later they split up, and visits to my paternal grandmother, which I enjoyed, became fewer and fewer. She died a few years ago, the house was sold and the Star Wars figures have been relegated to plastic bags in a cardboard box somewhere up in northern Jutland with my mom.
Thankfully I still have great relationships with all fractions of my family, and despite some poor choices on George Lucas’ behalf over the last decade or so, I also still hold Star Wars in high regard (should it come as a surprise).
PS: Yes, the Wired version of this photo has been color-corrected to appear more ‘real’. A shame, though I can understand why they’d do that. But to me, the brown hues that come with old photos like it, are part of the mise en scéne of such a photo.
I promised Joen a while back that I would put together a list of the podcasts I listen to on a regular basis, and I’ve finally finished crafting my list. Now despite my enthusiasm for the medium, I’m not nearly as nutcase-worthy as some people out there in the (blargh) podcastosphere…
But there is no denying that there are some genuinely great shows available, across a disturbingly wide spectrum of topics. Personally, I find my interests falling into a fairly narrow array.
Because podcasting is such a choice medium, I don’t hesitate for a moment to unsubscribe from shows that annoy me (The Movie Blog), are poor quality (iTunes New Music Tuesday), long-winded (Binary Bonsai… wait…)
Also, And finally, I haven’t included podcasts that either have fallen off in content-quality in the last few months or seem dead (like Ebert and Ropert, which otherwise used to be me go-to source for movie reviews).
Finally, I haven’t included podcasts that either have fallen off in content-quality in the last few months or seem dead (like Ebert and Ropert, which otherwise used to be me go-to source for movie reviews).
And now, without further ado, here is the list:
The Gamespot Hotspot · iTS
Probably the best podcast in my list. So many geek-related podcasts are longwinded and boring, but despite its running time of an hour, the Hotspot is anything but boring. Not only do these guys know games damn well, they’re both funny and charming from start till finish. And even better; the podcast arrives every week, like clockwork! Gamespot also does Designer Threads iTS, but with Greg K gone from Gamespot, its future is unfortunately uncertain. But do make sure you download the two episodes that are out. I would also point out GDC Radio | iTS, though their lack of proper show-descriptions and a generally poor audio quality is really annoying. Their archive has some good stuff though.
Creative Screenwriting Magazine · iTS
Interviews with screenwriters; and good ones at that. I particularly recommend the recent interviews regarding Children of Men. Hell, just go back through the archives, and you’ll find lots of gold nuggets buried there. And if you’re a Pirates kind guy/gal, there’s a good one a few months back as well. And speaking of movies, definitely don’t miss out on KCRW’s The Treatment | iTS, which is just about the most cozy podcast in the world.
The Official Lost Podcast · iTS
I still loves me some Lost. And it’s only made better every week by the playful nature of Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindelof as they answer all kinds of geeky fan questions. Worth mentioning as well is the Battlestar Galactica podcast | iTS, which is also wonderful, though as you may have picked up, I’m perhaps not as interested in listening to commentary tracks every week anymore. The writer’s room ones are ace though! Even if the sound quality is so-so. And finally, Entourage | iTS, just because I loves it!
Acts of Volition Radio · iTS
Though it’s published about as frequently as the Binary Bonsai Podcast (that is, not often), it’s well worth the wait every time around. Steven plays tracks from various not-so-well-known bands, often from Canada, but on occasion also from for instance Denmark (Mew in this case). If you’re interested in undiscovered bands, then I also highly suggest that you check out the Coca Cola’s sessions | iTS, a range of podcasts from around the world, with DJ’s showcasing that country’s undiscovered talents.
Film Score Monthly · iTS
I wish it was released more often, and I wish they would do more retrospective work, but other than that I have very little to pin on this wonderful little nugget of a podcast. I definitely encourage you to browse the archives for goodies. And of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t also point you towards Soundtrack.net’s podcast | iTS. It too suffers from a poor release schedule, but then when it finally comes around, it’s always a pleasant surprise.
Kevin Smith’s SModcast · iTS
Currently regularly released, and just as irreverently honest as everything else Kevin Smith does, SModcast literally ranges between the mindnumbingly trivial and the absolutely outrageous! Well worth a listen. And of course, if you’re into humerous podcasts, The Garrett Murray podcast | iTS is also well worth your while.
Weekly iFanboy Video Podcast
iFanboy is a comic-book website which features not only a regular podcast, but also a weekly video podcast. Personally I’m not enough of a comic-book geek to know what half the stuff they talk about on the normal podcast, but the video one is great, fun and informative in all the right ways. One of my absolute favorites!
And then of course there’s stuff like Riding with Robots | iTS, about the exploration of space, Boing Boing Boing | iTS, which is as off-topic as Boing Boing itself, The Dragon Page | iTS, about science fiction and fantasy books, with frequent long-winded interviews with—to me—unknown authors
And finally, one-off ‘podcasts’, like Rolling Stone’s Bono interview, All-TIME 100 Albums and the Stephen King interviews in the TimesOnline Book podcasts | iTS (make sure you check out their archives!).
And that’s it! Peeee-hew.
It’s not a topic I touch on often, mostly because I can’t be bothered with all the fanatics—of all persuasions—it tends to bring out of the woodwork. I nonetheless decided to republish a reply I made (still caught in the moderation queue) to a Science vs. God thread over at Time Magazine (which is sporting a swanky new design, I like it!).
Basically the question posed was:
Can the disconnect between science and religion be bridged?
Another more pertinent question, in my mind, is: “Should it be bridged?”
I’m a raving atheist. I have never seen, heard, felt or otherwise experienced anything that points to a god-like being in any shape or form. What my life has taught me however, is that the world is driven by systems. Mathematics, physics and so on.
What continually amazes me, is religious people’s lack of acceptance towards the fact that the human body is fallible. Ironic, considering God’s exclusive title as ‘infallible’. Yet we’ve all ‘felt’ creatures under our bed, seen someone move out the corner of our eye and heard footsteps in a dark forest.
Our brain is constantly trying to predict the world; that’s how it works (read the excellent On Intelligence) Why is it so hard to believe that the same process which predicts a path between the dropping of a rock and it hitting the ground, even if you don’t actually see or hear it, is the same process which tries to bridge other, perhaps more abstract events, by inserting ‘God’?
Most religions have set themselves up well (that’s why they are still around, while other similar, perhaps more poorly ‘constructed’ religions are not), but if we turn them on their heads, they suddenly make so much more sense.
God created man in his image… Well, let’s try it the other way around. What if man created God in his image and added human-like behavior (God moves in mysterious ways, just like humans). Suddenly we can identify with and (generally) understand the behavior of this divine entity. Suddenly the universe didn’t spring into being by itself, it was created. Creation. It’s something we humans can relate to. We do it every day.
Suddenly we have a magic, easy to comprehend ‘substance’ that can be used to bridge pretty much any two points in our world view. Don’t know how gravity works? God will’s it. Don’t understand why you keep smoking cigarettes, when you want to quit? God is testing you. You mother was diagnosed with cancer? God has his reasons, do not question them.
We can identify a sovereign authoritative being—we are surrounded with them in our lives—so it’s easy to comprehend for anyone, anywhere that God is behind these things.
Back in what I like to call ‘the real world’, the technical workings of gravity are a bit harder to understand. As is addiction and cancer. And furthermore, they are distant and inhuman. While their effects are clear enough to us, their causes are not available to the human senses. You can see the effect of gravity, it keeps you grounded. But you can’t see why the Earth beneath you keeps you down, but the moon doesn’t…
We can’t visualize the complex mechanics behind gravity, but we can easily understand the ‘magic hand’ of God, keeping everything in place.
After all, that’s how we view the world as children, where our parents were benevolent, caring, invulnerable, perfect beings capable of just about anything.
The question is: Can science and religion be bridged? Should they?
If religion sees something unknown, it’s ‘God wills it!’ and ‘It’s an act of God!’
Science tries to pull back the cover and see the world for what it is. Mind you, not how we perceive it, but how it is. When science sees something unknown, it is unknown.
In my humble opinion, religion and science need to be kept absolutely segregated, for just that reason.
Religion hasn’t granted us the electricity, computers, the internet, space travel, ski wax, synthetic food, water filters and whatever else you think of.
In fact, religion has granted us little more than churches, docility and the meddling of religous people in the affairs of the world.
If God should exist, it seems to me that he, she or it would be just as happy with people practicing their beliefs outside of opulent churches and priests bellowing out ‘the word’.
But then people couldn’t get the same sense of ‘together-we-stand’-edness. Yet another human trait.
How about that?
A perhaps more worrying question is why religion and state are intermingled in so many countries, including my own? For how long must we drag around the shackled of the past? How can personal religion, or the absence of such, be a free choice in a country which chooses to sport a state-religion? How can a forward-thinking country like Denmark, in which a mere 4.1% (source) of its population is actively church-going, look itself in the eyes?
Luckily it doesn’t seem to bear as much weight in our neck of the woods as it does in the US, where Bush seems to confer with God as much as he does his aides.
What’s so grotesque, is that in my eyes he’s actually taking advice from that magic ‘goo’ that connects the unknown space in between two separate points in his world view.
And that scares the shit out of me.
PS: The comments on this entry will be heavily moderated, to save it from drowning in a sea of stupidity.
It’s friday once again, and here are trailers for science fiction movies that really wanted to be the caliph instead of the caliph (huh?)...
Leviathan. Released along with a slew of other underwater films in 1989. Most likely to feed off of the scraps from Cameron’s The Abyss, which was released in the same year. This however seems more like Alien or The Thing underwater. I don’t own this, though I wish I did.
Pay special attention to the trailer voice in that one. The good ‘ol trailer 80’s ‘shit-is-gonna-happen-yo!’ voice!
Update: Another film also released in 1989, which I never saw, was Deep Star Six. Featuring and even better trailerguy, Bob Morton (from Robocop) and one ugly rubbersuit!
Outland, which I bought it recently on DVD, and I can only sum up the impetus for this movie thusly: “Alien was truck drivers in space. Aliens was vietnam in space… What about a ‘high-noon western’ in space?!”. I think it actually makes use of set pieces from Aliens, kid you not…
Moon 44, which so wishes it was directed by James Cameron and art directed by Ridley Scott, and which is just through and through a pretty horrible movie (an anal rape scene in the showers?!... WTF!). I own it on VHS:
And as a special bonus, Nemesis, which tries to be Rambo II w. Blade Runner and Ã¼ber 80’s action mixed in, with a healthy layer of cheese for topping:
Oh hell, now that we’re at it, here’s Zardoz. A movie which doesn’t actually try to be anything in the known universe, let alone a movie!
Other honorable mentions include Return of the Jedi, which terribly wants to be A New Hope (even down to stealing the same damn McGuffin!) and Predator, which wants to be Aliens in the jungle… and gets away with it.
If we step out of the science fiction genre, Firebirds (can’t find a trailer anywhere) and Romancing the Stone (and The Mummy, King Solomon’s Mines and so on) would definitely be up there as well…
Now please, supply your own links in the comments.
Last friday I had the great pleasure and privilege of playing what must surely be one of, if not the best WWI dog-fighting boardgame in the world: Clouds of Glory. And believe you me, it is truly something to behold.
ICOG, as it is abbreviated, was created from the ground up, rules, planes, boards… Everything, but some Danish guys lusting for some serious WWI dog-fighting action back in the 90’s.
It’s a bit hard to explain, but I’ll see if I can’t do it justice.
First of all, you have the board, which represents the land underneath you. It is built from styrofoam and painted to look like rolling French hills, fields, an airstrip, a bridge, a village and so on. There’s even a couple of trench-riddled ‘front’ boards. All the boards can be moved back and forth, so you can have a rolling dog-fight which goes beyond the board, if need be.
Now the fact that the boards are made from styrofoam is quite important, as it facilitates the brilliance of this game over any other commercially available dog-fighting game. If any such exists (which I’m sure it does).
And this is where it gets tricky. The planes you see, are mounted on pieces of pianowire. A piece of wire, bent at 90 degrees, attaches the front of the plane to a piece of cork, which can slide up and down the pianowire… Here, have a look:
It’s not immediately understood, but you then stick the pianowire into the coardboard ‘ground’ below, and presto, you have a plane that ‘flies’. Now here’s the genious; the bent wire between the plane and the cork allows the plane to pivot and tilt in all directions…
Yes, 360 degrees of rotation and height!
No longer is it a cardboard piece that has an image of a plane on it and a ‘+2 in height’ next to it. This is like a snapshot of WWI right there in front of you… though with weird metal pillars next to all the planes. Close enough though!
You’ll notice the pianowires have a small dot at the top of them. This is to minimize the risk of anyone bending forward to adjust their plane and poking out their own eye… Ouch.
Now, each plane has a pilot, and each pilot has a range of stats. Playing as the german side, tasked with protecting an observation baloon, I was lucky enough to be playing for two, which granted me the hand of Rudolph von Klein, Ute Mäclich and two other guys I can’t remember. Rudolph was my ace, Ute… not so much.
The rules, which are quite detailed and offer a great deal of realism, cover pretty much everything. They should, seeing as how they seem to be tweaked every time the game is played.
To move, turn and roll, transparent measuring instruments that would make even Dr. Mengele proud are used. This is no joke, some moves literally require three sets of hands to perform properly.
The great thing about this is that even though the game relies heavily on measurement-by-eye, you all have to be in agreement for a move to be made, and as a result no one feels cheated.
All the planes have been meticulously created, both in model and in stats, to represent a perhaps slightly more movie-like WWI than the one in the history books, but the result is a game with some serious depth, which, if it could be mass-produced, would bring tears to the eyes of dog-fighting enthusiasts everywhere.
Take for instance the Sopwith Camel, of which two flew against my tripple deckers. Because of the engine-torque, they could turn sharper to one side than the other! Brilliant :D
I’m sad to say that those pesky tea-loving English managed to fire down my observation baloon, perhaps as a pre-emptive strike ahead of an invasion. But not before I incurred some serious losses, downing two planes and evening the score (literally, 4 points to each side), with only Ute MÃ¼clich having to bug out after a too-close-to-home encounter in Clouds of Glory.
PS: In the name of posterity, I had the unprecendented audacity to rip off the Løffenator’s gallery and put them into my own flickr account.
In what is looking to be a catastrophically malnutrition’d bachelor weekend, I’ll see if I can’t catch up on some of my blogging, and I thought I would start with this whole flickr ordeal.
First of all, let me just say: “Wow, that turned ugly pretty fast, didn’t it?!”
I hadn’t seen a whole lot of other feedback when I wrote my post on the subject, but during the day as I took breaks from level designing and checked up on my feeds, things slowly started to boil over. In general, I think it’s fair to say that people are pissed at flickr for pulling this stunt (Bruce Sterling?!).
And the outcome is the usual. Some people, like all those people who pledged to move from the US after the Bush administration came to power and started fucking up, are now promising to never again let Flickr have their money. Others are entirely dumbfounded at the whole ordeal, over-rationalizing the whole thing. And I think that somewhere in the middle is where the heart of the matter resides.
The degree of pissed’ness is quite frankly a bit overwhelming, and I’m not sure I entirely sympathize with a lot of the sentiments. But I do think, that flickr nonetheless does deserve a slap of the wrist for pulling a maneuver which was never popular with any of the people who let flickr become what it is today. In other words, flickr should have listened to their userbase and just ditched the whole idea.
The problem was never and still isn’t, in my eyes, that people now have to use a new login. Sure it’s a minor annoyance, and I don’t really like Yahoo. But that’s not the real problem here. The new limitations on contacts and tags are a true problem, but not the real reason for this uproar either.
Rather, it’s flickr’s blatant disregard for the wishes of its most loyal users. These are the people, of which I am one, who back in the day, showed the ultimate online measure of trust in flickr, by dropping a wad of cash on the counter and saying “I’ll take what you’re selling”.
Now I have absolutely no patience for the Microsoft way of letting backwards compatibility run the show. In K2 we often leave legacy concerns on the cutting room floor, determined to deliver the best product and not the most compatible one.
So I can certainly understand where flickr is coming from. Their end goal is noble. But is the cost of maintaining a separate login system really worth all this bad publicity? I sincerely doubt it.
I for one am staying, even though flickr lost its halo. And even though I think it’s a shitty way to treat your users, I do think the flickr staff deserves props for their patience in answering a whole lot of rude, stupid people in their official thread.
The issue however, remains.
Alright, I wasn’t planning on posting this just yet, but since I won’t have proper time to work on it for the next few days, my lack of patience got the better of me.
Now it is important to note that this isn’t even a mockup as much as it is a sketch (albeit rather a polished one). There is some functionality missing and so on and so forth.
First up is the edit page with the media manager closed. As you can see, I also put in Flickr and Youtube as similar services to hook into. However, the media manager itself is meant to be a way to manage your local files (images, video, audio primarily I think).
Click the My Media tab, and the page splits open, revealing the media manager underneath. The rest of the admin is obviously better off being centered and fixed width, but the media manager gets the benefits of ‘stretching from ear to ear’.
A quick quick quick walkthrough of what I like to call a ‘feature-rich environment’:
- You can filter, sort and search your media library.
- Uploading takes place in the same area, I’m working on that stuff now.
- It is 100% of the browser width to give you more space.
- Like the textarea, you can resize the preview shelf, by grabbing the handle underneath the scrollbar.
- Double clicking a media preview, rolls out a small editing pane next to the image where you can edit title, desc. & tags.
- You add media to the content area by dragging and dropping.
- You should hopefully be able to preview audio and video. Audio is easy, video, not so much…
- There will be more stuff :)
And that’s what I’ve been up to in Habari. I’m pouring some of the stuff I work on into a flickr set, and of course both mine, Khaled’s and any other volounteers discuss all of this on the mailing list (and here is the thread for the above sketches).
And no, it won’t be coming to a Habari installation near you in the near future. In fact, I think I probably caused a few gray hairs in the Habari coders when they saw this. But it’s doable, and I’ll gladly chip in with my own meager skills.
Ideas, suggestions and what not are of course very welcome
While I didn’t mean for this to slip all the way to now—life intervened—I’m now very happy to be able to let you in on my first personal ‘comics discovery’. It’s a little three-issue gem—of which I have two—featuring none other than the turtles and their sensei Splinter.
But this is not your father’s turtles, or your brothers. Hell, this isn’t anyone else’s turtles!
For some reason I happened to have a couple of days not too long ago where I got interested in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles again. So I read up on their origins, saw the movies:”(I like both, but the first is by far the best, what with Casey Jones and Splinter’s outrageous backstory.)”: and decided to check out some of the comics, since I remembered hearing that some of them were quite different from the turtles we know and love.
I didn’t expect them to actually have any TMNT comics, I mean they not exactly hot stuff these days (though they will be soon), but I asked at my local comics store nonetheless. And much to my surprise, I was taken ‘backstage’, through their claustrophobic Neverending Story-worthy backrooms. No kidding; those backrooms are scarily cool. Row upon row, floor to ceiling of comics. Stacked. More comics than you can shake a graphic novel at. I’m telling you.
Anyway, they pull down a stack and let me go through it, to see what there is to see. These are the old Mirage comics, which vary wildly in style and artists and look and feel like they were printed in a basement somewhere and then shipped out in the dead of night by ninja/bike messengers and dumped on the doormats of comic store owners, who would then in turn proceed to haul them in before first light and file them away in their vast storage cabinets.
It felt like no one had touched these comics since they were put on that shelf back in 1991…
The earliest issues in the stack were #35. I flipped through it and was… surprised. Wow. This is fucked. Up. I love it!
It turns out however, that I got my hands on the second and third part of a trilogy of stories, so I still need to dig up issue #31 somewhere… Damn.
The story and art was all done by Michael Zulli, whom I have no other experience with. He’s worked on The Sandman. And might I add that both the writing and the art complement each other in ways I’ve rarely seen before. It is dark, disturbing, violent, abstract, nightmarish and very poetic. And it is by no means a children’s comic!
Really, the only thing I can think of being wrong with this short storyline, is that it isn’t longer and that it’s so damned hard to get ahold of.
You can check out the story arc for Zulli’s trilogy if you’re interested, complete with page-samples and if you’re up for it, you can compare Zulli’s turtles to other artists takes. Also, I gathered some scans and some found images into a flickr group.
If you can get it. Get it. And if you have an extra copy of #31, drop a comment and I’ll give you the address of a doormat you can have your ninja-bikers drop it at.
And so it seems destined that my podcasts hit near the one hour mark, with this one being the longest so far. Contrary to last time however, in this one it’s not just me yapping away about nothing at all.
This time I delve into Holst’s The Planets and talk a bit about what modern day soundtracks it has or may have influenced, as well as a bit of this and that in relation to soundtracks in general.
So by all means, put on yer ol’ headphones and join me in the dream lounge.
PS: If you left an Odeo comment on podcast #2 and #3, I’ll carry it in podcast #5 (if it’s relevant to carry of course)... Sorry about that.