And I said what?

I still have these things on the back burner, you see — our night of oysters and ahi* and gravlax, recent restaurant expeditions for Twenty-Five for $25, a story or two… but I’ve been finding myself immersed in Kameo, of all things**. That and fixing up house, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and Whisper of the Heart, and Neko Case’s latest lovely, and… well, you get the idea.

Apparently, I am a

according to this. In case you’ve never noticed, I’m totally, irrationally in love with online personality tests. After all, if the internet didn’t tell me who I am, how would I know? And where would I be without all these labels?

You can take the quiz for yourself, or psych me (I have no idea what that means, but apparently you’ll need this receipt: e859946eaaed). Or, you can avoid the madness altogether. I won’t blame you!

Also, if you’re still here, thanks for sticking around. I mean it.

* haven’t fixed up any photos yet, but this was Miranda’s faux wild ginger tuna bruschetta, which was something close to divine. Thanks!!
** … but I’m done now!


Still here

I’m still alive, but please bear with me. My soul is in little pieces on the floor and I’m not sure who I’ll be once I’ve put them all back together.

In the meantime, you may not be aware of this:

[The Life Aquatic Sessions with Seu Jorge]

It makes me happy.

Confidential to Manuel ~ I found the habañero goodies at QFC.


Since I found serenity…

Signs of going mad: watched the entirety of Firefly on Saturday, followed by Serenity this afternoon, an ordeal both tiring and fun. Spent the rest of the day singing the theme song with all sorts of made up words, since I’d forgotten what they were supposed to be, but I’m glad it was that instead of the crazy-making singing octopus snack bar song. Anyone have an MP3 of the theme? I think I probably just need to hear it once with the right words to get it out of my head.

I am wondering how a future world seemingly dominated by Chinese & Asiatic culture and language can have so few Asians walking around, or in fact, anyone between white & black on the racial spectrum — aside from Inara and the ladies of the Heart of Gold, whatever that’s supposed to mean.

Still! It was fun, and so very, very quotable. But I do rather feel like I never want to watch television again.

This is so so wrong.


The Da Vinci Code

Finished The Da Vinci Code a few minutes ago, and not a minute too soon. Reading it was like listening to a know-it-all explaining the story of a Jerry Bruckheimer film without a time limit. Consider:

“… Langdon noted with uneasiness that these particular cloisters lived up to their Latin ties to the word claustrophobic.”

Do you know anyone who talks like this all the time? Do you like to spend time with this person? There are whole pages of discussions of things like the golden ratio and fibonacci sequences that come off as masturbatory. Plot twists and puzzle solutions are condescendingly telegraphed with marquee lights pages ahead of time as if reaffirming the idea that Langdon (and by extension, Dan Brown) is just that much smarter than the reader.

Still, I’ve no-one to blame but myself. Despite the silly plot and tone I still stayed up late and finished the whole thing, if only to witness unbelievable moments such as three supposed Da Vinci scholars staring at a “code” of clearly-reversed cursive lettering and not recognizing what was going on. That’s not all of it, however — I guess I’m a bit of a sheep after all.

Summary? Let’s just say that it was about as entertaining as National Treasure with three times the time investment.

It’s possible that I’m just feeling annoyed at a book that has yet to be released in paperback after two years in print. I doubt it, though. Thank goodness for the library — where I also picked up some Mishima as a palate cleanser.

In other news, I’ve had that poppy cover of “Pure Imagination” (Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory) from the Mastercard commercial stuck in my head all evening, which kicked off a brief google search to find out how I might get ahold of it in a more on-demand format. Phooey on Wikipedia for making it so easy to find bad news.


Fretwork and synaesthesia

[Nails on bones]

I just realized that for about three months now, I’ve stuck to a pretty good average of one post every two days. Not being a very inspired writer — or rather, being the kind of person who frets nervously for hours at the keyboard for every single sentence produced — that comes as a total surprise to me. I never realized how much work that kind of output requires! I have no idea how all of you superstars do it!

At any rate, I’m in a full-on fret right now, so please, please let me know if you think the quality’s gone down over that time. Because, you know, I still want to be interesting.

But I guess I’m in self-evaluation mode anyway, since it’s annual review time at work — the absolutely worst time of year for the insecure.

On the bright side, I shook Hélène Grimaud’s hand yesterday. I wonder if she saw colors? Because I know I did!


To the new tower of Babel!

Watched the new restoration of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis on DVD last night, which was wonderfully clear; a revelation, truly, and despite controversy about playback speed, a very affecting experience. Did find myself longing at times for a little Pat Benatar or Freddy Mercury — surely I cannot be the only fan of Giorgio Moroder’s 1984 pop-score “reinvention” of the film? — to the point where earlier tonight I dug out my ancient VHS copy of the long out-of-print Vestron video release. Cheesy at times, yes (this is the man who unleashed Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away” on the world, after all), but is it really any less so than Gottfried Huppertz’s cloying original score*, included on the current Kino disc? One could argue that the driving electronic beats of Moroder are actually more appropriate to the mechanical heartbeat of Metropolis. On the other hand, Adam Ant. Hee, point taken.

The real tragedy here is that I completely missed the Alloy Orchestra’s run of Metropolis when they came through Seattle a few years ago.

Speaking of reinvented scores, for a real treat (both cinematically and musically), check out the Criterion Collection’s DVD release of The Passion of Joan of Arc, Carl Theodor Dreyer’s 1928 silent masterpiece**, with Richard Einhorn’s Voices of Light included as an alternate audio track. The movie by itself is a transcendental experience (possibly my favorite film ever), and the music (featuring Anonymous 4) is nothing to sniff at either. I became familiar with each separately, not realizing at first that Einhorn had designed Voices to accompany the film. Together, well, wow.

* the advantage both scores have in this case is that they are both infinitely better than the nadir of Metropolis-related music, which surely has to go to the atrocious 1989 musical, first staged in London (and which nevertheless has an inexplicable following).
**Passion is a film whose history is as spotted and star-crossed as Metropolis itself. A victim of mishap and censors, its story has a happy ending: a print of Dreyer’s original cut was miraculously recovered from a mental hospital in 1981, nearly fifty years after its original form was thought irretrievably lost. Faint hope for Metropolis?

Shocked to discover while grabbing links for this entry that Anonymous 4 is disbanding…!


Red bliss

Very enjoyable Sunday evening spent relaxing, snacking on Terra Red Bliss potato chips (v. yummy, with olive oil, sun-dried tomatoes, balsamic vinegar), Pizzetti madrigali wafting from the speakers, and games of Literati with lovely friends. Before that, an elegant choral benefit auction that ended with an unexpected new toy in my grubby little hands, in the form of Adobe Photoshop 7. Please excuse me if I absent myself for a few days to lose myself in aesthetic indulgence!

The Pizzetti pieces, for those curious, are the Due composizioni corali (“Il giardino di Afrodite” and “Piena sorgeva la luna,” both settings of Sapphic fragments):

E di fiori di loto come a festa fiorisce il prato;
Esalano gli anèti sapore di miele.
The meadow celebrates with blooms of lotus flower;
And stalks of dill exhale the essence of honey.

The music is simply ravishing; hard to find but worth the effort! This particular recording was by The Esoterics.

Also getting a lot of play of late, besides the aforementioned Flamma Flamma: B.’s gift of Tori Amos’s Scarlet’s Walk, Pink Martini’s “Song of the Black Lizard” (yum, thanks Capodistria!), La Portuaria’s “Selva” (via Yogi or Mina, I’m not sure who!), and a whole lot of the Beatles (spurred on by the upcoming release of a sans Spector Let It Be — link via The Laboratorium).

Hey rosebaby! I blame you for this drip I.V. filled with Talking Rain Ginger Ale. Especially when I had just managed to get used to Nutrasweet (sigh).

Last year’s winner of the 5k, a little flash toy “based on a symbol-generating matrix created by [famed typographer] Adrian Frutiger.” Frutiger, of course, created the Univers type family, as well as the eponymous face that adorns airport signage around the world. That’s all irrelevant, by the way; just go play with the pretty toy!



Cognitive dissonance

Oh my god, I’m listening to a Hindi cover of “Mony, Mony” right now. Actually, it might be better described as a “free adaptation,” but there’s no ambiguity about the source material.

For those intensely curious, it’s “Koi Nahin Aisa,” from the soundtrack to Dillagi.

(Good grief, now it’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You.” Same movie.)

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