In this film, titled The Sailor’s Curse Avoids Drowning, a sailor who has narrowly escaped the sinking of his vessel and is adrift in a lifeboat with none but his foot to keep him company. Feet aren’t generally much company at all, but this sailor has the grand misfortune to be the exception to this usual state of affairs. To say any more than that would ruin this brilliant piece of film. My only regret is the length of the film, since this small piece here could truly be a fascinating, horrifying fairy tale.
At the SCADshorts site, you can see behind the scenes and making-of material on this film as well as several other really brilliant short films. Definitely worth a look.
The pagan/satanist/wiccan references seem unresearched and over-the-top in a hokey to me, but I certainly wouldn’t consider it offensive. I can’t help but wonder if this shoot will make it to the good old USA. I have serious suspicions that as tame as this spread is, it may cause a row among any fundamentalist Christian readership in the US.
Anyone with the September issue of Vogue US care to confirm whether or not the same story is present? I realize each of the Vogue editions is technically its own thing, but I’m so curious.
They may do this - or something like it - for the US October magazine. That would be more timely, given the long time association of “witches” with Halloween, the history of all 3 practices in this country (sporadic fads producing popularity that dies out, but almost always a few constant practitioners) and the legit holiday(s) which falls around Halloween.
If this is the way fashion’s going to run, then bust out the black, the ouija board, the absinthe and the chickens: It’s gonna get freaky up in here.
“I respectfully ask that the media allow me to receive care and heal in private during this difficult time,” the 38-year-old actor said in a statement released through publicist Ina Treciokas.Via Yahoo! News
Naturally the news is abuzz with this event. It is this author’s opinion that there will be a great deal of journalists who will not do as he requests and simply allow him privacy during this time - and I don’t just mean the obviously opportunistic tabloid types. There are already a great deal of articles running that he “reportedly tried to commit suicide”. The real questions are, how can they so casually include this hearsay, and how much worse will it get before the end of the day?
This internet rag, known as the National Ledger, has already gone so far as to claim knowledge of “a slit wrist and ingestion of a bottle of pills”; this bit being written just before a complete breakdown of his astrological chart. There were also no sources cited for their claim. Splendid detective work, National Ledger, now get back to your charts and your remarkable slew of banner ads.
Give me a break, people. The guy went to the hospital. It happens to thousands, for various reasons. I sincerely hope that this base speculation is as far as the majority of the media goes into prying into his not-very-private-right-now life. Good luck to you, Owen Wilson, in what may be a difficult time. I for one wish you swift and peaceful healing.
I went to bed rather early because I got up early and was a lot more active than normal.
At first I dreamt I was in a field and the stars over my head shone with a brilliance I have never seen before (not even in NM and the stars there were intense). At some point it became a stadium-like concert hall with a peculiar pattern of open roof. I sat down in a chair and continued to relax and look at the stars. I was there for a little while when I saw people coming in and sitting down. Then I realized that someone was setting up the stage area below. I thought to myself that since I was already here and no one stopped me before that I may as well stick around. At some point during all of this, I had company on either side of me, my father and a mystery person. As it turns out, the people setting up on stage were The Flaming Lips. They started to play (and it really was familiar songs, I was stunned almost in-dream by the accuracy) and it was really great but I got a little nervous because I didn’t know if I was allowed to be here or not. I turned around and looked, and there was a familiar looking young man. I asked if we’d gone to school together and he said yes. That was pretty much the end of that conversation. There were some fancy effects, one of which went wrong.
It had to do with a pattern of lasers over the crowd that would present the optical illusion represented above, and then had another image overlaid on that. (Looked sort of like J.R. “Bob” Dobbs if I recall correctly.) Of course to do all that, they needed smoke in the air. However, they couldn’t figure out how to keep the smoke from rising too quickly to the top and out of the open dome. I looked upward and saw that they attempted to “close” the dome but there was no fully closed setting and even still the ceiling was very high, causing the smoke to drift well out of laser range. I peeked through holes at the stars and longed for the way it was before. Though I was grateful to be sitting with my dad and grateful to be seeing the band perform. The nervousness of being discovered for my ignorant seat theft and the pang of longing for the peace field I had started out in were pretty overwhelming. I had gotten caught for my apparent trespass (despite having been there first) and was frantically trying to come up with some way to redeem myself. I stammered a suggestion to the large man towering above me that if they had linen sheets, lots of them, they could use it to create a canopy to blow the smoke under and contain it. I fled from the building, on a determined mission to find linen sheets. The open country had gone from field to urban while I wasn’t looking and there were a variety of stores, most of which were closed. I started out moving along by car but for some reason decided that was not the most efficient way to manage so I left the car in some parking lot and ran.
I wasn’t able to find linen sheets, so many places were closed and I returned to admit my defeat after the concert, despite the fact that I could have just run as my gut tried to tell me to. I lose the thread of the dream there. I may have woken up.
Later on, I dreamt of a video game. I believe it was called “Purple Valve: The Assisted Suicide Game”. Not sure why they called it that, other than it was remarkably easy to die. Player 1 was on a moving platform that was going down with a few other figures, but the idea was you needed to leap of and get power ups and hop from small block to small block to get the rest of the way down. After falling to my doom over and over again, I finally figured out how to grab power ups that made the fall less fatal, and finished level one. Some of those symbols made no sense. I don’t know why grabbing the baseball and then the baseball glove made an angel come and wing me part of the way down. Perhaps a manifestation of Saint Duh, the patron saint of obvious pattern recognition?
As level two began the whole dream pulled away from that. I was faced with something that was like a low budget cross between Transformers and John Carpenter’s Price of Darkness. There were these “symbiote” creatures created of wire that looked remarkably like CAT5. They informed us of their superiority and started taking people over one at a time. They did so by jabbing one of these wires down the throats of human victims. There was a lot of cautious reasoning with these monsters, trying to perhaps trick them into admitting a weakness while trying to establish the worth of the human race. This dream gets a bit hazy but I suspect that the humans did not survive. Incidentally I think Alec Baldwin was in that dream, portraying some manner of general.
And I wonder why I wake up tired.
Kids, don’t smoke, listen to My Bloody Valentine instead.
This video is comprised of film clips of people smoking. Regular people. Not just creeps, hooligans or bad guys. Once upon a time, it was okay to depict regular people having vices, too. I definitely saw Jack Nicholson in there.
Some kids play in the sandbox. We play in the.... litterbox??? The RKNet staff is pleased that you decided to stop by. Currently this is a multi-author project, with a rotating cast of totally kooky characters. Contact giania [at symbol] gmail [dot] com if you'd like to play here too.
