…when you are not sure if the exam you just had was “easy” or “deceptively easy.”
8
Dec
…when you are not sure if the exam you just had was “easy” or “deceptively easy.”
7
Dec
My weekly TV column is up at Torontoist.
7
Dec
(Posting will be light the next week or so – exams in full swing, etc.)
6
Dec
Well, I have to say that as comic con costumes go, these two are not bad. I mean, Stargirl looks kind of… directly translated from the comic, but it’s okay because it’s a con costume and you expect people to be literal. And Dr. Fate – well, fake muscles in the costume aside, that sure is an interesting way to depict his helmet’s glowy eyes. The ancient Egyptians loved their fibreglass! But all in all a very good –
– wait, what? These are costumes from Smallville? Somebody got paid to design these?
Ah, good old Smallville. Blurring the line between “professional” and “amateur” for nine years.
4
Dec
Rankin-Bass’ The Life And Adventures of Santa Claus, probably the best one they ever did. Parts 2-5 are on Youtube as well.
3
Dec
FLAPJACKS: So why aren’t you nominated for this year’s Canadian blog awards?
ME: I’m not?
FLAPJACKS: Nope.
ME: Are you sure?
FLAPJACKS: I used your computer and everything.
ME: Which reminds me, you owe me half a dozen bagels.
FLAPJACKS: I got you bagels.
ME: You got me circular bread from Loblaws. Do we have to have the bagel talk again?
FLAPJACKS: No.
ME: Good. Anyway. I figured that since I won last year I’d get auto-nominated or something.
FLAPJACKS: It doesn’t work that way, I guess. Didn’t you just nominate yourself last year?
ME: No.
FLAPJACKS: What, somebody else nominated you? For real?
ME: For real. I didn’t even know the Canadian Blog Awards existed. I figured self-nominating was, like, against the rules or something.
FLAPJACKS: Or at least just not classy.
ME: Exactly. It’s like wearing a business suit to a white-tie event.
FLAPJACKS: But on the other hand now you’re not gonna win the award two years running.
ME: And I’m not irritated about that at all.
FLAPJACKS: I don’t think you –
ME: At. All.
FLAPJACKS: Gotcha.
ME: Anyway, other than Yarn Harlot all the blogs there are mostly teeny. I have bigger fish to fry. Bigger and better internet site awards await!
FLAPJACKS: Have you ever even been nominated for one of those?
ME: Shut up.
FLAPJACKS: And didn’t you actively campaign to win some of them?
ME: Shut up.
FLAPJACKS: Man, you’re testy.
ME: That’s what happens when people steal my bagels.
3
Dec
My friend Gemma Files recently finished her novel A Book of Tongues, which I am not sure what it is about offhand, but I know the following things:
1.) It has cowboys shootin’ people in violent bloody gunfights
2.) It has mean badass magic in violent bloody ways
3.) It has gay sex, which may or may not be violent and bloody
If these elements seem like they might appeal to you, then I highly recommend that you purchase a copy, because Gemma is a hell of a writer. It is not un-pricey, but it is a special Limited Edition. (I promise I will ask Gemma if she will write an additional gay cowboy fight scene in the inside of the cover for you if you get one.)
2
Dec
Aries (20 March – 19 April). Beware of the following things: cats painted blue, books with “vol. 41” on the spine, speakerphones, Maalox, those little styrofoam packing peanuts, tinned salmon, the Seven of Clubs, toy lightsabers, flavoured gin, the country of Malawi, covered wagons (like the pioneers used), Katie Couric, vitamin water, the cinematic works of Joseph Fiennes, plaster of Paris and euphoric happiness. All of these things are death omens until such time as you see an old woman dancing in sheer joy, Aries. You would be well advised to attend a seniors’ polka night. Sorry about this, incidentally. I mean, we both know there are signs a little more deserving of a death omen than you. But that’s how it goes.
Taurus (19 April – 20 May). Unfortunately for you, the stars have made it clear that every Taurus on the planet Earth will come to an unpleasant end six days from now. So, you know, maybe you could, like, not stand too close to other people, or something. Is that too much to ask, Taurus? All the rest of us would like is not to be dragged down with you. Oh, god, get off your knees. Stop begging. What kind of wuss are you? Show a little dignity for once in your fucking life. Jesus Christ. Is it too much to ask that you not involve us in your shit? Go work on your bucket list.
Gemini (20 May – 21 June). People you supposedly love and respect may find that your lack of commitment towards their lives is troubling, Gemini. Maybe you need to consider someone besides yourself for a moment. Think about other people’s needs and desires for once. See, Linda, oh wait I mean Gemini, the reason I do this for a living is because I have a passion for the mysteries of the future. That’s why I don’t want to be a stockbroker. Do you get that, Gemini? You knew what you were getting into when you met me, and I was clear up front that it was my life’s calling. Besides, who the hell respects stockbrokers these days anyways? Why would I want that, huh, Gemini? Tell me that, you dualistic snobs.
Cancer (21 June – 22 July). You always get a bit of a bad rap because your sign shares a name with horrific disease. This is unfair. Did you know that in modern times “Capricorn” meant “oozing sore located on the genitals”? Think on this. It may help you out in a tough situation. Alternately, consider that you aren’t a goddamn lying Gemini whore. That should make you feel better.
Leo (22 July – 23 August). Go to the 7-11 on Fourth. Wait ten minutes. A black van will arrive, and the passenger’s side door will open. On the seat there will be a package. Do not look at the driver. I cannot emphasize this enough: looking at the driver will be a mistake. Take the package. Carry it down Fourth until you come to a bright yellow door. Knock on the door: three times, then two, then three again, then wait a second, then once more. Enter the door. There will be a blindfold hanging on a peg. Take it and put it on, then walk forward six paces while still holding the package. Carefully place the package on the floor. Do not make any sudden movements. Turn around. Walk slowly back to the door. Do not remove the blindfold before exiting out the door.
Virgo (23 August – 22 September). I bet you’d like to know, wouldn’t you. You Virgos, every last one of you, you’re two-faced wretches who fuck their best friends’ Gemini girlfriends behind their backs. I guess she taught you a thing or two about lying, huh, Virgo? Well, guess what: I know how it ends up, and one of you is gonna get crabs. And I’m not telling you which one of you it’ll be. But before it’s over, one of you will cheat on the other, and get a horrible parasite, and then you’ll pass that parasite on to the other person, the one you teamed up with to betray my dumb soothsaying ass. I hope that shit keeps you up nights. I’d tell you to stop telling all our mutual friends that you feel bad but you had to follow your heart, but there’s no point, because sooner rather than later you’ll stop saying it. And you’ll be scratching your genitals while you do.
Libra (22 September – 23 October). If I told you your future this week, you’d end up becoming your own grandparent, and I’m sure none of us want that. So I’m just going to make something up. Um… if an ugly stranger comes up to you and asks you for help, help them. There. Is that vague enough for all the bored housewives out there?
Scorpio (23 October – 22 November). True story: back when lotto was still illegal and called “the numbers game,” legendary black mobster Bumpy Johnson one week found himself having to pay out winning number prizes to over seven hundred people, on account of the winning numbers having been all related to an industrial accident that made the news that week. Some suggested that Bumpy just redraw the numbers so that nobody would know, but Bumpy – a man of integrity in his way – refused, and paid out. Because he wasn’t some goddamn Virgo louse who would tell you things like “no, man, we were just hot tubbing together.” In related news: 7, 15, 16, 26, 32, 41, and bonus number 22.
Sagittarius (22 November – 21 December). That achy feeling you can’t quite describe is a tumor. Go to the doctor. Sooner would be better than later. I tell you this because I care about you, Sagittarius, and because it’s important to me to use this ability I have to do some good in the world. You know what the fucked-up thing is, though? I knew in advance that Linda was going to cheat on me. Now, granted, I didn’t get a very specific flash, so I didn’t know when or where. But I definitely didn’t think she would fuck my best friend on my goddamn bed. That I bought with my horoscope money. That’s right, Sagittarius, she cuckolded me on your goodwill. I bet that makes you feel used. See, I thought she was just gonna have a bachelorette party fling, and we’d laugh about it later because, come on, last fling, you have to forgive that.
Capricorn (21 December – 20 January). Ignore that stuff we said about oozing sores. That was just to make Cancer feel better. I mean, hell, they’ve got to be associated with the deadliest disease in human history, sometimes you gotta spin ’em a little bull to make them feel less pathetic. You get that, right? Of course you get it. I should’ve listened to you, Capricorn. I should’ve agreed to go out with your sister, even if that did seem a little weird for you to be setting me and her up. What was up with that, anyway? I’d ask if she’s still into me, but I already know she’s gonna end up marrying this guy she meets on the bus next week, so it seems kind of pointless. God, I hate being able to see the future. You’d think you’d get accurate stock tips, but no, it’s all useless soap opera bullshit like this. All it does is make people miserable. I wonder if it made her miserable? I mean, I tried to not bother her with it. You know how it is.
Aquarius (20 January – 18 February). Yeah, yeah, I know the Aquarius entries have to be all lah-dee-dah because you’re the most creative and imaginative, but fuck you, Aquarius, I’m not writing this entry in rhyming couplets just so you can feel complete. You want your future? Here’s your future: you’ll go nowhere while some fucking Virgo who actually knows how to fucking network worth a damn gets the job you’ve always dreamed of, and you end up a waiter in your mid-forties talking about that screenplay you’ll never actually finish which, go figure, is about a misunderstood waiter who’s really a tragically brilliant artist. That’s it. That’s what you get. Now get used to people asking you for a Cobb salad. PS. You will go bald. No, I’m not joking.
Pisces (18 February – 20 March). Statistically you are the rarest of all astrological signs, Pisces. But that doesn’t make you special. It just means there are less of you. So don’t stand too close to Tauruses this week. Your numbers are already in the danger zone, and I’ve always liked you, Pisces. I just get the feeling you’re trustworthy. Hey, maybe we should go out for a beer next week? Just friends. And when I say “just friends,” you know I already know how it ends up, so there’s no point in me lying and pretending it’s a “just friends” date if I want something more. Yeah, I know, it does kind of suck. But at least I’m not a stockbroker, with a lot of money and my own house and everything. Who would want that, right? Ha.
1
Dec
Top ten week! New partnerships! No new judges! Mollee still inexplicably present!
Noelle and Ryan: hip-hop and smooth waltz. And once again, Tabitha and Napoleon choreograph what’s pretty blatantly a jazz routine, throw in a couple of chest-pumps and HEY IT’S HIP-HOP NOW. It not being hip-hop aside, both Ryan and Noelle danced this quite well. Noelle’s facial expressions were not so nearly over-the-top as they were previously, and Ryan hit his beats much better than he did for that L’il C hip-hop a couple of week ago. (Then again, this was, as I have said, not really hip-hop.) This was okay for top ten, but it made me miss Shane Sparks. This show needs a hip-hop choreographer who will properly beat the shit out of their dancers.
The waltz was really lovely with one exception: Noelle was back to total show-face. She has this incredibly insincere dance-face that she just seems to drop into all the time, and it’s not anything like her normal smile, and it is maddening because it’s this horrific “ahhhhh” face that almost always jars with her performance. (Compare to Kathryn’s facial expressions from last week during her waltz, which were so naturalistic one could not be blamed for thinking she and Legacy were really IN LURV.) However, Ryan’s technique was absolutely flawless in this and he had the bulk of the hard work, and other than her danceface Noelle carried her end of the load.
Noelle’s solo: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Ryan’s solo: Why didn’t he and Ashleigh just “solo” together?
Ashleigh and Legacy: contemporary and hip-hop. The contemporary – which was tremendous – reminded me of two moments from the first season of So You Think You Can Dance Australia. It reminded me of one routine Garry Stewart choreo’d for Demi and Jack, which was just as brutally tough and visibly difficult, and it reminded me of something Jason “Best SYTYCD Judge Ever” Coleman said of a Demi/Henry contemporary routine, where he astutely observed that Demi and Henry were both untrained dancers and that this meant that their tandem untrained leaps were perfectly in time with one another. I already thought Legacy could live up to this kind of pressure: I’m surprised that Ashleigh did as well as she did. I really liked this.
The hip-hop was one of Dave Scott’s more noticeable flops, choreography-wise, and the judges were right to criticize it. Of course, this had more dancing than a lot of the routines certain dancers got in past weeks (COUGH COUGH NATHAN AND MOLLEE COUGH COUGH WHEEZE), and any number of choreographers have bombed worse than Dave Scott did this time out, but Legacy and Ashleigh were probably supposed to be quick eliminations rather than lasting dancers (read: contemporary) so can you really blame the judges for taking this opportunity to push their agenda?
Ashleigh’s solo: Yeah, why didn’t she and Ryan just “solo” together? This would have been the perfect opportunity.
Legacy’s solo: Holy shit, that was fucking artistry right there. Goddamn. That was a tiny slice of brilliance.
Kathryn and Nathan: Broadway and rhumba. Hey, they split up Nathan and Mollee and gave them the most popular partners each of them could get! I am shocked. Cynicism aside, though, this was actually pretty goddamned great: Nathan finally entertained me for the first time all season (heck, finally convinced me he deserves to be on the show) and Kathryn was as good as she always is. And their chemistry was great, Nigel Doesn’t Know Fuck-All About Chemistry Lythgoe. Just because Kathryn is not blonde with big tits doesn’t mean she doesn’t connect to her partner.
The rhumba was… yeah. Technically okayish for Nathan, thoroughly decent for Kathryn (not her best performance but nonetheless a good one). But I was amazed when Nigel not only criticized Tony and Melanie for a boring routine, but also pointed out that Nathan had his lips pursed bizarrely through the entire routine, making it look like something out of an SNL sketch or something. Shankman (who loves everybody!) explains that Nathan is a “polarizing” dancer because he is “young” and “a bit out there.” No, Adam, Nathan is a polarizing dancer because he spent the first five weeks of the show dancing mostly badly and getting applause from you for it.
Kathryn’s solo: Perfectly acceptable contemporary solo, nothing new under the sun but nothing bad.
Nathan’s solo: Dynamic and exciting and frankly really impressive, and if he survives tonight it’s because of this solo.
Ellenore and Jakob: quickstep and jazz. I didn’t quite get the praise for the quickstep that the judges felt the need to heap on it. It was okay, sure, but there have been many better quicksteps and this one reeked of the boringness Tony and Melanie so often bring to their non-Latin choreo. Technically proficient, about as thrilling as mayonnaise. Jakob and Ellenore were both fine in this, although I didn’t get much chemistry from them: they both danced well and partnered well and Jakob especially seemed to not care whom he was paired with.
The jazz was fucking brilliant, even if once or twice it felt a bit Sonya-ish in a predictable way. Nuff said.
Ellenore’s solo: Distinctive and cool, albeit a bit sloppy in parts, but the ending was neat.
Jakob’s solo: Fantastic, but every choreographer uses everything he did in that solo, so it lacked novelty.
Mollee and Russell: jazz and jive. At some point Mandy Moore will escape the 80s and I will no longer have the opportunity to make fun of her for that, and I will be sad. Now that Mollee is paired with someone who can actually, like, lift her worth a damn, she looks a lot better all of a sudden, but the thing to watch here was Mollee’s total lack of performance: she was doing moves, nothing more than that. Good moves, to be sure, but moves, rather than dancing. Not that this stopped the judges from tonguebathing, or Nigel from once again pretending that Russell is some untrained caveman fucking stop that shit Lythgoe. (Russell was really quite good, both in technique and performance quality, but Jesus Christ am I sick of this shit.)
The jive was good choreo plus good dancing from Russell plus a log. Guess who the log was. Seriously, in a routine with a supposedly trained contemporary dancer and a krumper, who would you think would do a side aerial? It was Russell! But seriously: Mollee was stiff for good chunks of this routine and didn’t have nearly as much to do as her partner did. Nigel gets the biggest laugh of the night when he claims Mollee is a good “performer.” Whatever, Nigel.
Mollee’s solo: She’s usually given good solos if nothing else, but this was terrible: frenetic and desperate and sloppy.
Russell’s solo: Fucking tremendous. Seriously. Holy shit, that was a goddamned dominant solo. No better way to describe it than that.
Should go home: Mollee and Nathan.
Will go home: Ashleigh and Nathan.
1
Dec
What is the best thing about The Demon #46-49?
Is it black magic zombie Nazis rising to conquer the world?
Is it Jason Blood recruiting the retired, elderly crew of the Haunted Tank to fight the black magic zombie Nazis?
Is it Etrigan, getting his patriotism – such as it is – on?
Is it the crew of the Haunted Tank, right after Etrigan gets his ass kicked, deciding to take on an entire platoon of M1 Abrams tanks crewed by black magic zombie Nazis in their tiny little M3 tank, as they are the only ones who can stop a peaceful small town from being destroyed by the aforementioned black magic zombie Nazi tank brigade?
Is it the Haunted Tank beating all those big bad tanks by driving right over them and throwing grenades into their cockpits?
Or is it when Etrigan gets his hands on the black magic Nazi demon who’s helping all this happen?
The answer is clearly all of the above.
1
Dec
My weekly TV column is up at Torontoist.
1
Dec
30
Nov
One of the things people routinely ask me to write about is The Incredible Hercules, mostly because it’s a good comic book and they want people to talk about good comic books that “fly under the radar.” Except I’m not sure how The Incredible Hercules can be considered “under the radar,” because everybody fucking talks about Incredible Hercules and how good it is: Newsarama, Comics Should Be Good, Robot 6, Chris Sims, Joey Joe Joe Junior Shabadoo’s Buck Wild Comics Blog, everybody. And it still only sells a healthy-but-relatively-small number of copies. (I buy the hardcovers.) So basically the internet is worthless for pimping a comic regardless of quality: indeed, superhero fans have at this point been trained to more or less ignore quality in favour of “importance” whenever the choice is forced upon them.
(Which is not to say that an “important” story can’t also be a good one, but: priorities.)
But beyond the effectiveness of me pimping it, I also question whether it is deserving of pimpery. This is not to say that I don’t enjoy The Incredible Hercules – obviously I do. But I really think people overestimate its craftworthiness on the basis that it manages what a lot of superhero fare doesn’t these days: it is a well written, light and entertaining comic book. (And it has some flaws. In a few years’ time when people revisit these arcs, I’m pretty sure people will look at the use of Amadeus Cho’s smartness turning him into a Bullseye replacement and go “wait, how does being smart give you good motor reflexes and hand-eye coordination?” This is not a major quibble, of course – it just needs to be said that Incredible Hercules is not a perfect book.)
I’m just gonna pause for a second here because it’s worth reflecting upon how few Big Two books are good as opposed to merely being competent. For DC there’s Detective Comics, Batman and Robin, and Secret Six. For Marvel there’s Incredible Hercules, Invincible Iron Man, the “cosmic” books, and whatever comic fills the Iron Fist slot for any given month. That is it at present. (Daredevil‘s new direction is uneven, Captain America is in a boring lull period, and Amazing Spider-Man is inconsistent on a week-to-week basis.) Eight books between the Big Two that are genuinely good comics and not just placefillers.
I’ll go further than that, though, and say that there are exactly two ongoing runs right now that aren’t just good but indeed excellent, and those are Invincible Iron Man and Detective Comics (which I have seriously come around on after a rereading plus the effect of the two most recent issues). And my simple definition of “excellent” is this: if the run came to an end with the next issue, would I be disappointed that it was over?
And with Hercules, the answer would be “not really.” It’s a good comic in all ways, but I don’t feel any deep-seated need to talk about it, analyze it, or reread it again and again. (Even my hardcovers sit unread, and I’m a compulsive rereader.) I can’t speak as to why, either. It’s basically the greatest comic book you don’t need to think about – which is why it’s so hard to write about.
(But how about that Invincible Iron Man? Huh? Huh?)
EDIT TO ADD: Ilan is right: I forgot Fantastic Four, which belongs in the “good” category. Also: Ghost Rider. But that’s it.
30
Nov
“So, Justin, what would you like for Christmas this year?”
Hm…
…Sandman Mystery Theatre…
…The Golden Age Sandman’s alter ego, Wesley Dodds…
…and an actor to portray him…?
HOW ABOUT IT??
Bonus: I have done some hi-tech photo manipulation, just so you could see what it’d be like:
I tried to replace the ferret with some sort of gas gun, but I am not quite talented enough.
28
Nov
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