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moving on up / to the east…

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

You may or may not know of the move in our very near future. The T.C. staff is off to the northern end of the Windy City. It’s a big change. (Mainly because CHI is considered a city even outside of the regional area.)

The relocation is only part of it.

Girlfriend and I are reducing our television consumption to three hours per week for the summer. What better time to start than after a one-way trip with a sixteen-foot truck?

I’ve gotten into bicycling-as-transportation. (Stifle your applause, hippies; I still shower often.) CHI has more on-street lanes and paths. We’ll also have nearly all of our staples (including ice cream) within two miles.

We’re moving to a residential neighborhood. There won’t be any drunks yelling after midnight. There won’t be the seventeen roaring past every fifteen minutes (or planes every hour, for that matter). I won’t sleep well for a bit.

Tired of all the gradients on this site? Want a splash of one other color? (Do you even read it here?) You’re in luck, because T.C. is getting an overhaul in the near future. (S’bout time, right? ‘Get in your car’ was the 800th post!)

Most importantly, Girlfriend and I will live in a place people actually want to visit. My sunny disposition is adequate but that’s with friends only threatening visits every two years or so.

It’s been awhile since there has been so much flux. I’m excited.

Photo courtesy Mikeyexists on Flickr

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so many reasons to hate the suburbs

Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

Bike CrashI get it. We were afraid of brown people, looking for cheap housing and lived in our cars. Why not sprawl, right?

Things are different now and we need to call off this failed social experiment. Its detriment far outweighs its benefit.

The same faux-patriots that hate other cultures, crave war and ignore the poor saturate these once-desirable puddles of white that encircle metropolitan areas. They must be stopped.

I read somewhere that if we all lived with the population density of Brooklyn, the entire nation would fit into New Hampshire. The driving between these vastly separate locations has us dependent on nations we label enemies.

Does that make sense?

Whatever, maybe I’m just fuming over the absurd of yesterday…

HOOOOOOOOOONK!!

At first I think the giant beige (fact: color of evil) SUV is upset because I left the trail for the road after it ended. I’d just come through another intersection, though, so SUV had to hold a grudge.

Stopped at the next light, an interchange with a heavy-traffic local highway, SUV rolled down the window.

She’s about sixty but doesn’t look a day under seventy-two. A thick cake of something meant to conceal them accents her abundant wrinkles.  Her eyes —

“Get off the road!” (She doesn’t even let me take in her whole horrifying face before screaming at me.)

It’s a road bike. I’m stunned, so it sounds like a question. Which is stupid because it’s obviously a road bike.

“I don’t care if it’s a road bike! Get off the road!!”

Umm.

I couldn’t do anything but laugh as she sped off to her probably-very-important somethingorother. I sighed, clicked in and went on my way.

… But yeah, that’s maybe why I’m so anti-suburb today. I don’t necessarily feel safe on my bike in Uptown, but I know the people there have seen a bike. Some have maybe even taken a drivers’ test in the last decade and had to answer bicycle-safety questions.

Maybe.

Photo courtesy Streetsblog (also: what the — !?)

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“well at least he’s not so late today.”

Monday, April 5th, 2010

Cigarette StandThis quote from one of three men who wait at Southdale for the same express bus as I do when I don’t bike. I’ve taken to the nickname “The Trinity” when cataloging their odd…

The Tiny Badass
This guy shows up occasionally in a bright blue beret. He has anti-establishment, pro-awesome hair hanging a couple inches past his shoulders. (It’s thin and usually greasy, which provides as much disgusting as hilarious.)

This is made worse by two irrefutable facts: Badass is in his mid-forties and he probably weighs 120lbs with his 80s era bright blue ski jacket soaked through. The man is far too small for anything but a Napoleon complex bigger than its namesake’s to justify a bravado he so clearly has.

He’s someone who hangs with bikers but doesn’t own a bike because they’re too establishment. He probably saw many things I’d never want to in a war he didn’t believe in but the chip on his shoulder is heavier than he is.

Quote: “That place Lyle’s? I’m two blocks away and would never go there.”

The Slick Kitten
Both Slick and Badass are avid smokers. They stand in front of the bus stop while indulging themselves, shrugging their shoulders in the face of an imaginary authority that politely suggests they move fifteen feet to their left. With pride, they toss their still smoldering drugs on the sidewalk, into the parking lot or toward the grass because society tells them the sand-filled receptacles need be used.

Slick pines for expensive gadgets he will never afford. He doesn’t talk within earshot often (also, I almost always wear headphones), but when he speaks of magical features no tangible device has, my left kidney shivers. (That he usually attributes them to an iPhone is doubly hilarious.)

He’s taken to wearing shiny black shoes that clash so strongly with his frayed jeans it sparks concern that there are no women in his life. As soon as he finds one, he’ll toss his “too cool” for “too cute.”

The Aged Comedian
Without the nicotine habit, Comedian has to force his way into the conversation. He thinks up a comment no one cares about (you can tell because he smiles to himself), steps within a few feet and then drops said comment like slate tiles.

With his reusable, Colbert-emblazoned bag, he’s both too sure of his being hilarious and environmentally conscious enough to be innocuous. Add that he’s in his sixties and he’s basically invisible. He makes himself laugh, though, and that’s all that matters.

Quote: The title above, which he said every day for a week. That the bus was on time each of those days and hadn’t been more than three minutes late the full week prior makes me think he’s found his catch phrase. You know, if anyone were listening, which (read: said invisibility) they are not.

Photo courtesy Veer, obviously

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belated post-Oscar rehash

Friday, March 12th, 2010

It’s taken me a minute to look over my predictions and weigh them against the winners. Please don’t read that as my taking any time on this. I’ve just been busy with more important things (depending on how you look at it).

As always, I’m right and the Academy is sometimes wrong. I don’t fault them and either should you. Here’s a rapid rundown of where they misstepped:

While I only saw the one movie in both the Documentary and Foreign Language categories, both my picks should have won. This because dolphins are in far too much of the food we eat but Food Inc. is about all the rest and Das Weisse Band was black and white (end of story).

The Hurt Locker was great. That it won the editing award means my prediction is less than right. Slightly. I’m man enough to admit that. (Note, this is completely false.)

Cinematography, defined: The art or technique of movie photography, including both the shooting and development of the film. Black and white photography is better than color photography, fact. Thus, Das Weisse Band should have won. (Fact.)

With the subject matter thrown into “Push,” how could you not make a compelling film? The acting (especially the protagonist) and directing held Precious (Based on the Novel “Push” by Sapphire) together, not the screenplay.

Tarantino was robbed of his Original Screenplay statue. The glaring inaccuracies and artistic licenses that make Hurt Locker a great film (and it is great) shouldn’t win a writing prize. Directing, obviously; acting, sure; and even cinematography, fine but not the writing.

The Academy came around and was right in all the other categories, including a possible (2% chance) game changer with Hurt Locker taking the big win. Overall the show was watchable but it was absurdly slow in parts and what was the deal with the lady Kanye?

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2010 Oscar Predictions

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

Do you hear the trumpets? If you were reading this on an i[Tab] you’d hear trumpets…

So the nominations are in and, like ’07, ’08 and ’09, I’m here to throw in my four cents. As always, I’ve listed my favorite and the likely winner. These are usually different because I don’t have any vested interest in terrible movies making money from year to year, like some people who will remain nameless (because I don’t know their names).

I’ve even thrown in some underdogs to justify my drinking during the show on March 7th. You can see all the nominees listed at IMDB.

Best Animated Feature:
 My pick: Coraline
Winner: Up

I liked Coraline because the story and animation were more intriguing (scary as all hell, awesome). That won’t matter.

Best Achievement in Visual Effects:
 My pick: Avatar
Winner: Avatar

Every single one of these smaller, technical awards that Avatar is up for will bring home a statue for them. It’s a technical marvel. If only they would stop there…

Best Documentary Feature:
 My pick: Food, Inc.
Winner: Food, Inc.

With the caveat that it’s the only one I’ve seen, it’s also the only one that made money. This is a big deal for an industry trying to look deep with no interest in being deep. It’s a great film in its own right but making a little scratch never hurts your chances in this category.

Best Foreign Language Film:
 My pick: Das weisse Band
Winner: Das weisse Band
Underdog: Un prophète

Again, this is the only one I’ve seen in this category but with all the buzz, it’ll take the statue. And it should (despite many misunderstanding it as a commentary on the social climate that bore Nazism). But maybe the voters will misunderstand Un prophète as “profit” and throw their votes that way.

Best Achievement in Editing:
 My pick: Avatar
Winner: Avatar

Because… uh… it’s Avatar?

Best Achievement in Cinematography:
 My pick: Das weisse Band
Winner: Avatar
Underdog: Inglourious Basterds

Guys, black and white is soo classy, right? (It’s like when there were movies before iPods or the eighties.) That and I don’t want Avatar to take all these damn statues. It’s blatent theft.

Best Screenplay based on Previous Material:
 My pick: Up in the Air
Winner: Up in the Air

Sorry, all, but this one’s too easy. District 9 is great if you’re into sci-fi but most aren’t (which is a fact fans of sci-fi love to forget). Up in the Air is adorable to the point the word is sort of obnoxious and it still worth watching. That’s nearly impossible and deserves some kudos.

Best Original Screenplay:
 My pick: Inglourious Basterds
Winner: The Hurt Locker
Underdog: Up

Inglorious Basterds has no chance at any others, unfortunately. This fact alone should get Tarantino the win but it doesn’t matter because, if the Academy decides to go with Avatar as the Big Winner, Hurt Locker may get the sympathy win here. Also, I liked Up. What of it? (That opening sequence was understated, powerful and made my tiny heart sob.)

Best Achievement in Directing:
 My pick: Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker)
Winner: Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker)
Underdog: Quentin Tarantino (Inglorious Basterds)

She has the critics on her side, why bet on anyone else? Avatar was a total tech-gasm but purely on merit, James Cameron just doesn’t get close. He has no nuance or scope and hasn’t directed anything worth watching since 1991. Really, I just hope Tarantino pulls this one out, which would be very… uh… Tarantino? (Except for all the death.)

Best Performance by an Actress, Supporting:
 My pick: Mo’Nique (Precious)
Winner: Mo’Nique (Precious)
Underdog: Anna Kendrick (Up in the Air)

Mo’Nique has this and has since the first day she strapped on a bandana and nom-nommed her first chicken wing. That said, Kendrick is a huge part of that obnoxious adorable mentioned earlier. A win here could break her free of the excrutiating hell that is the Twilight series. We here at the Chasm wish her luck.

Best Performance by an Actor, Supporting:
 My pick: Christoph Waltz (Inglorious Basterds)
Winner: Matt Damon (Invictus)

HaHA! Okay, I’m just having fun here. Who the hell gives two shirts about that movie? Rugby? South Africa after Hotel Rwanda? Yawn.

When he puts that glass of milk to his lips… just so… #boom! Oscar. Had this been any other year, Woody Harrelson would have easily taken the prize.

Best Performance by an Actress, Leading:
 My pick: Sandra Bullock (The Blind Side)
Winner: Sandra Bullock (The Blind Side)

Dear readers, it hurts. The pain of putting Bullock’s name in “ink” is that of a thousand paper cuts. If the paper were on fire. But she’s the only one on this list. Meryl Streep is Meryl Streep and she did a great impression of Ms. Child, I guess. Just not enough to combat the feel-good, sassy-shorts Sandra who came at it with big-haired guns blaring.

Best Performance by an Actor:
 My pick: Jeff Bridges (Crazy Heart)
Favorite: Jeff Bridges (Crazy Heart)
Underdog: Jeremy Renner (The Hurt Locker)

Morgan Freeman‘s impression of Nelson Mendela is great and all, but, like Streep, he doesn’t have a chance. Renner, though, put in a haunted performance and could have won… if it weren’t for Bridges having this one in the bag. It appears those that vote are behind him 110%.

Best Motion Picture:
 My pick: The Hurt Locker
Favorite: Avatar
Underdog: Inglourious Basterds

I wish I could say Hurt Locker, the far better movie, takes home the statue. Unfortunately, bedazzled by the money and effects, Avatar will probably take it. Like Pedobear would were he to have the chance.

Also, this blatant ploy to get a bigger audience involved is desperate and horrifying. The Blind Side? That wasn’t even the best family film of the year, much less the best overall. If movies weren’t already dead I’d say nominating ten movies for the Best Picture would kill them. (Here’s a great article about how Hurt Locker winning could change things quite a bit.)

Photo courtesy About.com

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the old man in me

Friday, February 5th, 2010

Brandy (the liquor). Somehow, this delicious distilled wine has (for reasons I can’t figure) been given a bad name. As the least possible qualified, I feel I should defend this fantastic fermented marvel.

Recently I’ve reacquainted myself with the burnt wine bliss and the following defense is entirely selfish and based on this assumption: if you understand the beauty of brandy order my new favorite for yourself (or me, because you’re so cute and your hair looks great and you smell like sexy flowers).

Let’s start near the beginning.

I haven’t drank Coca-Cola, by itself, since high school. Outside of the occasional Mountain Dew (err, Mtn Dew) to stave off fatigue or a root beer now and again, I avoid soda (“pop,” for my four-year-old or misguided Midwestern readers). Only when commingled with booze do I regularly partake in the sugary mess most of you hold dear.

If you had run into me freshman year with a 20oz bottle of Coke, you could be 98% sure it was heavily mixed. Brandy made for a reasonably priced drunk. As my tastes refined (used loosely), beer (“beer” then beer, if you get my meaning) took over.

Recently, I’ve realize the error of my ways. It started a few months ago. I forget the name, but Porter and Frye has a drink named something like the “Ginger or Mary Anne.” The mix of Hennessy, ginger beer and others is amazing (go try it, if you have $10 to spare).

Then, on the aforementioned trip to Duplex, I dabbled in the distilled delight again. When Girlfriend and I made our last trip to the drink store, I grabbed a bottle of Korbel and later some ginger ale, inspired by the Porter and Frye concoction. Back home, I mixed my first Brandy Ginger Ale, which is the “favorite” mentioned above.

It’s simple (as much brandy as I damn well please, thank you, and the rest ginger ale), refreshing and not filling (more drinking!). It’s cheaper by drink than most imports (it’s considered a rail drink). A flask and two cans of ginger ale can make an evening, so it travels incredibly well. And best of all, I’m saving the planet.

That’s right kids, my taste for this luscious liqueur has lower impact than near anything. With our preference for better beers, Girlfriend and I toss more glass than dragon chasers. This way, a bottle lasts weeks (days?) instead of… uh… an hour? (None of your business.)

I guess I’m really just asking you to buy me a drink. Save the planet!

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