Do or do not. There is no “try.”

I’m bored and today feels like a Friday to me. Not in a way good though. In a complicated, strange, sad kind of way. Does that make sense? Probably not. Don’t think about it too much. Look at this:

from here.

Vector Prime.

This:

from here.

Tomorrow never knows.

Apparently there was some nonsense on the internet yesterday suggesting that one of the dates that Doc Brown input into his Delorean time machine in Back To The Future was yesterday’s date: July 05, 2010. Sadly, this is not the case, and it was just a cleverly photoshopped image.

The actual date, though, is October 21, 2015:

from here.

Still love you though, Back To The Future. In other news: The original “Judgment Day” in the Terminator movies, August 29, 1997, came and went a long, long time ago before getting repeatedly pushed back as the various aspects of that franchise crawled along.

It’s just a weird feeling though, living in the future the movies of our youth talked about. The future is here, it’s right now, and it’s not exactly what it used to be. What are the other big future dates talked about in other fantastical pop culture? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still have faith in the year we make contact, but I also have questions. And concerns. The future isn’t something I think you necessarily sail into it (or fly your jetpack into), but walk into. It’s a concrete thing, with ground beneath you, and you walk on that ground as you march into tomorrow. On roads. Roads? Where we’re going, we won’t need any fucking roads! Sorry, sorry.

But seriously, the thing about the future isn’t so much concrete totems of amazing that I want to see looming and growing over the horizon (though, yes, I do want to see tower of human achievements built on the plateau of human brilliance)(and robots!), but I think with each step into tomorrow, we need to update and upgrade our imaginations. Our hopes and our expectations and our fantasies about what is to come need to get bigger and wilder and more daring.

We need our dreams, and our dreamers, and we need that hope that when we wake up from them, we’ll be standing in the bright new rays of an amazing and formerly impossible tomorrow, right?

Easter ha ha.

from here and Underpants Jail.

from here.

The Auteur Theory: Univeral languages.

“Film is one of the three universal languages, the other two: mathematics and music.”

-Frank Capra.

In the past, August Bravo and I have talked about a few of our favorite films and how we’d like to see them become Criterion DVDs. Why the Criterion Collection, you ask? Because we’re low brow film snobs and the Criterion Collection just looks sexy on a DVD shelf. I don’t want to speak for August here, but I’m a film nerd and kind of a completionist in that regard. Electronic copies of things are great, but just like my very sexy bookshelf, I like having an awesome selection of DVDs of album chilling there for me to admire and really take the time to decide: What do I want to watch today?

Which also ties wonderfully into me celebrating my own awesomeness, which is something I’m finding it harder and harder to say no to these days, ha ha!

That said, at some point August and I will probably do another one or two posts on those movies we like in a classic sort of way and at some point, we may actually jump into the auteur theory for which we took as the name of our series. But until then… chomp down on some of our past posts on the matter…

“The fact that it doesn’t have a completely satisfying ending, or maybe it does, is something I thoroughly admire about this film. I enjoy thinking about a film days after I’ve watched it, or at least, I like movies that stick with you for days after you’ve watched them. Not many have that kind of staying power anymore, but this film stays with you for years.”

-August on Shadow Of A Doubt, directed by Alfred Hitchcock.

“I hate to use the word satire more than once (and I do use it again in this post) but this movie is a perfect example of satire done right, perfecting showing you a world very much like ours, and very much like ours will become. In fact, the only detriment to this entering the Criterion collection to me is that it still feels a little too fresh. Maybe in another ten years it’d be more than perfect.”

-myself on Sidney Lumet’s still frighteningly brilliant Network.

“After many flings with a great many women he’s still left confused. The ending is one of the best I’ve ever seen. With almost no structure, the film is probably meant to confuse the shit out of everyone, an initial reaction that Fellini probably not only expected but counted on. As probably one of the most imaginative directors there was, I’m sure he had many reasons to make this the way he did. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

-August on Federico Fellini’s 8 1/2., which is getting the musical remake treatment as Nine, directed sadly by Rob Marshall and starring interestingly Daniel Day Lewis. That aside, clearly August’s metier is endings.

“Polanski is a master filmmaker, and he’s particularly good with one single element of life: That sense that something is off and just not quite right. Sometimes it’s paranoia, and suspicion of one’s surroundings, but that’s if you’re lucky to nail the feelings his films inhabit so perfectly down into words, if you’re able to describe that real life sense of nameless dread that feels like a hand reaching for your neck while you’re wide awake in the dark.”

-myself on Roman Polanski’s Chinatown.

“Among other untimely events, the film takes you back exactly to the beginning. It seems this is something I find fascinating in movies, or I guess you could say that I just hate resolution in film? Not everything needs to be a happy or unhappy ending. But an ending, just a regular, ordinary ending is what I feel should propel this movie to that ultimate and pivotal infamy of the Criterion collection.”

-August on Steven Spielberg’s Munich.

So there’s something for you to catch up on while you eagerly await our return to blowing up the internet with film nerdery.

Something, anything, everything.

A quick one today, I apologize, because I’m feeling very under the weather. I usually read on a lot of bizarre and out there topics, things that are weird and esoteric, because… Well, I guess I tend to like that side of the world. For example, last night it was tulpas and tulkus and Alexandra David-Néel. But browsing around today, I found a nice counterpoint to all of that from one of my favorite authors as a child, the Hugo award winner Isaac Asimov, a man well known for his skepticism. This is from his 1997 book, The Roving Mind:

Don’t you believe in flying saucers, they ask me? Don’t you believe in telepathy? — in ancient astronauts? — in the Bermuda triangle? — in life after death?

No, I reply. No, no, no, and again no.

One person recently, goaded into desperation by the litany of unrelieved negation, burst out, “Don’t you believe in anything?”

“Yes,” I said. “I believe in evidence. I believe in observation, measurement, and reasoning, confirmed by independent observers. I’ll believe anything, no matter how wild and ridiculous, if there is evidence for it. The wilder and more ridiculous something is, however, the firmer and more solid the evidence will have to be.”

Timothy Leary said that “science is all metaphor,” and while I do believe in the magic and wonder of the world, the weird and the bizarre, a strong part of me finds overwhelming truth in what Asimov said. Not just something, not just anything, but everything is in the eye of the beholder, for each to reconcile on their own, right?

Wolf Parade “I’ll Believe In Anything” (mp3)

Her Space Holiday “I’ll Believe In Anything” (Wolf Parade cover)(mp3)

Isaac Asimov, was of course one of the most prolific American authors, having written or edited over 500 books in his lifetime, and was a brilliant science fiction writer (or is that syence fyction?). If you’ve never read his Foundation novels, you should because they’re wonderful. He also gave us the three laws of robotics and was instrumental in getting Gene Roddenberry’s ass in gear when it came to revitalizing the Star Trek concept after the show had been canceled in the 60s, as well as appropiating the idea of grok from Robert A. Heinlein into the phrase “I Grok Spock,” which, if nothing else, probably got Asimov and Roddenberry laid quite a bit at science fiction conventions in the 60s and 70s.

George Lucas and J.J. Abrams just gossiping and chatting it up.

But more importantly, as far as I know, he’s one of the only authors to have written in nine of the ten categories of the Dewey decimal system, the notable exception being the 100s, which is philosophy and psychology, interestingly enough.

A long time ago on an island far, far away…

“Luke, I am your father.”

“Miles, I’m your daddy, lost in time and space.”

“Roger… Jesus. You suck at life.”

Seriously.

Last night’s episode of Lost, “Some Like It Hoth,” wasn’t the greatest of the series, but it was a damn fun romp. It confirmed a lot of things that we’ve all pretty much been guessing at (like who Miles’ father was), and moved the story along nicely, setting us up for some interesting stuff to come…

I’m totally bringing you into the circle of trust with some quick thoughts  on the episode:

Miles. Charlie 2.0, I dig you. You’re a bit of a smart ass, but some of your cutting remarks are sharp and well placed. I think the revelation of what exactly the $3.2 million was about was very interesting (and last season, we all had to know that that figure was some kind of code), and I’m glad we finally got to see your super power in action a little more. And though I was excited to see it last year, clearly it makes much more sense this year in the death and resurrection season. Also, in the picture above, Miles is obviously pondering whether or not Hurley’s sandwiches are as good as Jack’s.

Kate. I know I beat up on Kate a lot whenever I have to talk about her, but to be honest and fair, I really only do so because it’s easy and she tends to deserve it. Sorry, Kate. I believe that you’re a smart woman, strong and capable, and a skilled criminal and resourceful when it comes to getting out of tight jams, and yet… WTF was your thinking when dealing with Roger? I hate to say it, but I think that Hipster Grifter could show you a thing or two on this.

Roger. Kill yourself. Or… just chill for another decade or two and go have a beer with your son to celebrate his birthday in your DHARMA van on a hill somewhere. That works too, man.

That guy Phil. I think the only person I want to see seriously injured more than this guy is Radzinsky, though that’s not going to happen for a while… Maybe not until “The Incident?” Hmm. (My new theory there is that Radzinsky doesn’t so much deep throat that shotgun as Kelvin just rams it into his mouth, because who could stand to spend five minutes in a room with that guy?) Either way. In addition to a season full of death and resurrection, this is also the year of Sawyer dishing out the hot, fresh man slap.

The Swan and…

The numbers. When Hurley witnessed that… What a chillingly effective touch, am I right?

Jack. If season 3 was very much the big year of Jack in so many ways, then in comparison this is the year that Jack just kind of takes it easy. He’s going to make a few sandwiches, he’s going to clean some education about Egyptian hieroglyphics off the chalkboard, and he may stop by for tea and to impart a little wisdom for you, but other than that, he’s just going to hang back. One can only hope for the return of some serious Jackface soon.

Dr. Pierre Chang. How can you not dig this guy? I mean, seriously. Supposedly he’s marked for death by the course of things, or perhaps he escapes into the past (my theory is that Daniel is the cameraman in that video), but I harbor a serious desire for him to get his own spin off when the dust of history settles.

All the best cowboys have daddy issues.

Horace Goodspeed. You know, Horace, other than you and Pierre, none of you DHARMA people are really impressing me. I am quite frankly astonished that the Hostiles haven’t accidentally wiped you guys out yet. But still, I dig your style. Circle of trust. Nice.

Daniel Faraday. “Long time, no see” indeed. About time, man. I really liked Faraday’s character last year, but at the beginning of this season he really established himself as one of the characters to watch because, well, he had something so few of the characters are ever lucky enough to possess: the answers. Personally, I’ve really felt his loss this past season and can’t wait for Pierre Chang and him to get down into the Orchid and do some digging into that Frozen Donkey Wheel.

Hurley’s plan. Not only does this get the BIGGEST NERD WIN EVER, it’s kind of a genius notion. Watch out, Leigh Brackett and Lawrence Kasdan, cause Hugo Reyes is coming after your ass. Hopefully, his “improvements” include more Lando.

Also, Ewoks. While I didn’t love them, I am prepared to defend them.

Also, What lies in the shadow of the statue? It was a good question last week and it’s an even better question this week. Fascinating to see Bram show up again, only back in 2004 when he was trying to dissuade Miles from going to the Island. Unless what he said in that van (and honestly, shouldn’t all clandestine meetings and interventions take place in the back of a high speed van after a mid-taco abduction?) was incredible misdirection or just flat out lying, then perhaps his people on Ajira 316 aren’t Widmore-ites. Perhaps the coming war isn’t Widmore vs. Ben, but Widmore/Ben/Locke, etc. versus… something or someone else? If I had to venture a guess, it’d actually be Eloise Hawking because… Who else could it be? Plus, she makes sense and would make a great villain.

NEXT WEEK: There’s like a special or something. Should be interesting, but ehhh, it’s just filler. BUT THE WEEK AFTER THAT: It’s Lost‘s 100th episode!

DHARMA Civil War, from the looks of it. And also cake!

But until then, remember… Whatever happened, happened!

My year in lists, part three: Memento Mori.

Like I said yesterday, while I started a bit early, I wanted to talk about some of the incredibly talented people who’ve left us behind, and now faced with that prospect, I know that there’s no way I can truly do that subject justice. But every year someone famous dies, leaving behind a (possibly) nice body of work, and all we can hope to do is remember them and why we liked them in the first place, right?

“The fall will probably kill you!”

Paul Newman, 1925 – 2008. The George Clooney to Robert Redford’s Brad Pitt. My mother made sure that our household when I was growing up was always very pro-Redford, so other than The Sting and Butch And Sundance, I had to discover Mr. Newman on my own, but even for just those two classics alone, he deserves high notice on this list. And for Road To Perdition. And, of course, for his delightful line of salad dressings.

“Florida, Florida, Florida!”

Tim Russert, 1950 – 2008. Here was the pundit that you didn’t quite realize the worth of until he was gone. This was the everyday kind of guy who knew what he was talking about and wouldn’t let himself be bullshitted. Am I the only person that missed his wild infectious enthusiasm for the sports of politics this last election cycle?

“Who’s the man who would risk his neck for his brother man?”

Isaac Hayes, 1942 – 2008. I don’t think it even needs to be explained why this is such a powerful loss. Just listen:

We’re just gonna try to forget about the whole Scientology thing though, alright?

“I was never one to obsess about the past. Too much to do in the future!”

Sir Edmund Hillary, 1919 – 2008. Mountain climbing and philanthropy. Not too shabby. Hillary, if you don’t know is one of the first men, along with sherpa mountaineer Tenzing Norgay, to reach Mount Everest’s summit in 1953. When Hillary got back, he told his longtime friend, George Lowe, “Well George, we knocked that bastard off.” Awesome.

“One never knew, after all, now did one now did one now did one…”

David Foster Wallace, 1962 – 2008. A real loss. Not only a writer who had impressive output and influence, but who whose better days seemed to be laying ahead for him. Not so much, according to this very informative bit from Rolling Stone.

A remembrance of things past.

Harold Pinter, 1930 – 2008. A heavyweight of storytelling. Do I need to explain why Pinter is fantastic, do I? Do I really (though I still have some questions about The Birthday Party, but I’ll let them slide for the moment)? Maybe I’ll just throw out this clip as proof of the man’s immense worth:

That’s “The Betrayal,” one of my favorite episodes of Seinfeld, based on Pinter’s The Betrayal, but you can also find the entire episode on youtube, only re-reversed, which is actually kind of… unsatisfying.

Falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus.

Michael Crichton, 1942 – 2008. The sad thing is that his dead didn’t have any effect on me at all, you know? And it is sad because when I was ten, Crichton’s books made reading and being smart and most importantly wanting to be smart and enjoy that kind of thing in your reading cool. For a long time, this was the author who released a small masterpiece every few years and typically backed it up with a new degree that just screamed authenticity about whatever his latest cautionary tale was about, but the last few books… Tremendous crap. Not just the writing, but the angles he approached them from (he didn’t believe in global warming and thought that SETI was more religious idealization than anything approaching near science) and petty attacks on critics. He finished one last book before he died and it will be released in May of next year. Personally, I’m crossing my fingers in hope of the redemption of a literary master.

“I want to be evil.”

Eartha Kitt, 1927 – 2008. Not only did Miss Kitt want to be evil, but she made me want to fall in love with an evil girl. An affliction I’m happy to have still not quite shaken off.

“…From my cold dead hands.”

Charlton Heston, 1923 – 2008. This one’s tricky, especially since in the last few years of his life, Heston’s come to stand for and be a proud symbol of a lot of the things I despise in this world. And yet, the man was a brilliant actor once upon a time…

…which may seem like a trite statement when coupled with a clip from Wayne’s World 2 (which is a brilliant movie, alright?), but it’s very indicative of how strong of an actor Heston could be, even in cameos. And cameos were what he specialized in back in the 90s. But try not to remember the man as the racist gun nut that he died as, but as the mega star of biblical classics and Touch Of Evil and The Omega Man and The Planet Of The Apes. Oh, and another thing: “Soylent Green is people!”

“Why so serious?”

Heath Ledger, 1979 – 2008. This is the very definition of an actor cut down in his prime. By the end of The Dark Knight, you’re just hungry for the return of this character the way that Ledger’s played him, but you want to run out of the theater and get your hands on everything this actor’s ever done before and devour it. And sadly, while there’s been some wonderful films in his filmography, there’s also been some crap, and he leaves behind too small of a legacy for an actor so tall in talent.

Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits.

Just note that other blogs will merely refer to the seven dirty words you can’t say on television, but Counterforce goes there and tells you them flat out. We’re fucked up, nasty people, we are. But from there we go into the creator of that bit of comedy, George Carlin, 1937 – 2008, and Bernie Mac, 1957 – 2008. I list them together because they’re both hilarious comedians who’ve certainly made their mark but also because I’m not huge fans of them, but for similar reasons on opposite ends of the sprectrum. Growing up, I wasn’t exposed to too much Carlin, but more of the people who were inspired by him, and yet somehow, I feel like I was more exposed to the comedians who inspired Mac. Somewhere in there is a happy medium in which I respect both of these funny men.

Countdown To Mystery.

Steve Gerber, 1947 – 2008. I end this list with the man you’ve probably never heard of, and that’s a shame. Gerber was a giant in the comics industry, creating Howard The Duck, which you can see up above (and yes, you remember the movie, you know you do)(cause it was hot, sweaty genius, it was)(nevermind it, though, go read the original comics, which were brilliant) and the awesome Omega The Unknown, not to mention work on hundreds of other titles. The man was loud and opinionated and he backed it up with awesome skills. Also, you can watch Howard The Duck on hulu, which you should totally go do right this second.