I don’t want this to turn into the Gremlin show, where my life is absorbed by my childand all I can do is relate tales about her, but on the other hand she is part of my life.  The past two weeks have been particularly hard with Gremlin catching something from daycare – who knows what. To be expected, of course. But the aftermath of shittyness has been less than fun.

So these are some ways she has made my heart melt this week: Randomly grabbing my hand and pulling me into the loungeroom so we can ‘dance’ to her favourite songs; Big eyes watching me incredulously as I tried to show her how to dance in the rain; Kissing me on the arm (to get my attention) when I’m sitting at the computer; Wanting to read books with me over and over.

Of course, to balance out this mushiness, this morning we’ve already had the “NO” with crossed arms and stompy feet because: I wouldn’t read Each Peach Pear Plum for the third time in a row; I wouldn’t run the tap in the bathroom sink so she could watch the water; I refused to let her have a biscuit straight after breakfast.

What a bitch mum!

Heads up, we have two Kinetic events incoming!

First up, our monthly invasion of Neo: Nexus 6 — this Friday November 20th. This time around, DJs Gremlin and misterentropy will be administering some rhythmic beats and noise along with the usual dosages of EBM.

A week after that, on Saturday November 28th, DJs Gremlin and Sprite will be spinning glitch, aggronoize, harsh electronics, and techno-industrial at Kinetic @Underground Lounge.

See you there!

You’d think a man that single handidly, overwhelmingly had the biggest influence in over sixty global conflicts might be seen as a pretty mean ol’ dictator. But this silver streak is far from revered. His product sells for less than 20 bucks in some obscure dusty places, heaps easy to replicate, has become the most synonymous symbol in freedom fighting circles and adorned national flags. He’s the Kremlin Gremlin that’s been sitting on the back of the Americans since 1947… Welcome to Fisher* and a very Happy 90th Birthday to one of our true hero’s… Mikhail Kalashnikov!

Our Stateside mates reckoned the AK was an inferior weapon to the one possessed by their military… bzzzzzz wrong. Ever hear how the GI’s would take out their charlie counter parts and take their AK’s? Cause those things didn’t jam in the mud and humidity like their crappy M14 and M16’s (which were replaced during the conflict). Rumour has it they found an AK burried, 30 odd years post use. Gave it a shake, turned the ignition key and away it went, purring like it’d been drinking Castrol all along. The U.S. declined the purchase of the weapon to favour that of American made, albeit inferior design, technology and reliability. U.S. = ouch….

If you’re  Middle Eastern – The AK is in your blood. If you’re African – The AK is in your blood. Deep European with a chip on your shoulder and a love for clear rocket fuel spirits? It’s in your blood brother. Lap it up.

Kalashnikov never meant for his weapon to cause such destruction. Wanting only to protect his home lands borders, he cites poor political management for the AK’s global spread. Copying en mass was an issue too. Patent took a while to be put into place, 1997… If only Mikhail’d taken up the offer to patent the AK on his first trip to the States wayyyyyyy back when. Over 100 million AK’s world wide…

Welcome to Fisher* Mikhail Kalashnikov x

WOPR to nie tylko ludzie !!! To również wierne i oddane pracy psiaki.
Ja miałam te okazję poznać Gremlina – pięknego nowofunlanda ze stacji WOPR na Helu.

“Wielkie groźne bydle” pewien niejeden by rzekł…a ja wręcz przeciwnie
…takiego psiaka, słodkiego pieszczocha jak on to już dawno nie miałam okazji potargać za uchem

Wstawiam te kilka ujęć na specjalne życzenie i przepraszam, że pominęłam resztę kompanów Gremlina

Kliknij na fotkę by zobaczyć resztę

An idle mind is the Devil’s playground, and the Devil’s name is Alzheimer. ~ The Corpus Callosum Treatise

Donald Conrad

A Hell of a Place

The only thing keeping Alice from walking into the room is a narrow white mesh barrier attached to the doorframe with Velcro. She hangs a hand on it as though she is a visiting neighbor ready for some gossip at a common white picket fence. She could pass as Harpo Marx’s twin sister with a shock of curly grey hair and big round manic eyes. She says nothing.

Your mother lays quietly, eyes closed, mouth open. She has a blanket over her. She still has her sneakers on. So if she does try to get up on her own later, her otherwise socked feet will not slip on the tiled floor.

Far, far down the hall an alarm buzz goes off that sounds like a larger version of the one found in the game Operation. A mechanized male voice announces, “Door alert — please respond. Door alert — please respond.” The announcement is made again and your mind allows it to fade into unintelligible white noise. One of the patients wearing a proximity bracelet has wandered too close.

Brought to audible prominence is the light howl of wind which sounds eerily like pigeons cooing; followed by the clatter of dried leaves. Outside it is autumn; Fall by the look of it. You can just see the parking lot from here. The wind swirls the leaves, piling and repiling against curb and tire.

Your attention is drawn down the hall by the woman whose face was built of piss and vinegar. She yells angrily to the staff at the nurses’ station, “I want my husband. Where is my husband? I want my husband, you fucks.”

You mother’s face doesn’t even flinch. There was a time she would have gone into a tirade over the use of that word. Now though, she looks so peaceful. She looks…laid out in presentation.

Alice is still at the doorway. A gremlin climbs her like a capuchin monkey. It is gray, hairless and sexless with a grin full of needle teeth. Sitting on Alice’s shoulder, it reaches in with its small little hand and scoops out some of Alice’s memories. It eats quietly. Alice nods at you with her big eyes and silly grin. The gremlin climbs back down, looks about, then saunters away.

Mom never used to take afternoon naps. She was always too busy tidying up. Only a few years ago she could be found in her own kitchen, putting jelly in the cupboard with the coffee mugs and clean plates from the dishwasher into the refrigerator. But that was just ma being ma. Now you have to ask on visits, “Ma, do you know who I am?” Otherwise she just thinks you’re one of the nice ones on the staff. Eye contact is imperative, or she’ll think you’re just another of those voices.

Helena walks past the doorway, arms motionless at her sides. Barely bulbous sacks hang from her chest, unrestrained under her pull-over like ballast for a hot-air balloon. She stops at the doorway across the hall and peers into that room. She leans in, bending stiffly at the waist. She nods. She could be nodding at someone or something only she sees. She could be nodding at her own internal babble. Helena doesn’t speak. She only nods affirmatively.

Mom does that. Ask her anything and she’ll mostly agree. It’s her last act of defiance; a feeble attempt to cover up what she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know a lot these days. But she has the Lord on her side. She’s filled her life with catch-phrases like; ‘for heaven’s sake’, ‘good Lord’, and ‘Jesus is wonderful’. She has always exuded goodness in her own la-la way, so it came as a bit of shock to hear her use the word ‘shit’ in a sentence recently.

The gremlins eat the goodness first. It only makes sense that the goodness should be the most appealing. In a lunch-box full of angel food cakes and, say, liver, the cake would go first. The rest would only go as a way to subsist.

Heading toward the door with the keypad—456#; a code the patients could never figure out—you pass the nurses’ station. It is positioned as a hub for the ward and is the center of activity. Patients congregate like zombies waiting for the next thing—eat, sleep, shit, or pills. You wonder what it is about them all that they carry the chains they’ve forged in life so soon. That might not be it at all. But if it is, then Jacob Marley had nothing on these people.

Passing the day room/dining hall, Gremlins crawl all over the patients. The television is on. A lot of the old timers are staring above it. Four gremlins are arms-over-shoulders doing the can-can in tempo with the Ed Sullivan recording someone has set up—a VHS tape.

You watch as one of the gremlins scoop out some memories from one and deposit them in another; share and share alike.

One of the patients is walking with difficulty because a gremlin has its arms wrapped above the knee and its legs wrapped below the knee.

A nurse has a small paper cup with pills which she has a woman swallow with water from another cup. You’re at the proper angle to see the gremlin hiding so that when she throws the pills back, he gets them. He chews three times before being nearly drown with the water.

You think, “Thank God mom doesn’t spend much time in the day room.” She prefers to walk her wheelchair around humming songs she doesn’t know the words to any longer.

She seems happy enough. That is important.

In the parking lot you fob your car door lock. Before you get in you shoo away one of the gremlins. You point back to the facility. He walks back, head down and arms dangling.

You drive off and wonder how long they’ll obey.

No one ever brings AMC’s to SEMA–even the guy who runs Kennedy American AMC parts says he’s only ever seen one in his 14 consecutive SEMAs, and it was an AMX. So I just about lost it when I saw this ‘73 Gremlin X sitting in the PRAUTOGY booth. The humble Grem is serving as a demo vehicle for PRAUTOGY’s new Halo application, a curious piece of gizmology that allows you to operate your vehicle’s electronics–including, in this case, power hood, rear hatch, and doors–from your iPhone. (Because, you know, somehow popping a hatch or pulling a hood release just isn’t cool anymore unless you can do it using a Mac product–kids these days!) In any case, apart from the electronics, air-bagged suspension, and suicide doors, the Gremlin was basically stock-looking, nice and refined. It was running a freshly-rebuilt 258 straight six and had even been repainted the same Golem-clay color it came with from the factory, along with the correct hockey stripes. Love it! See pics and video below the jump.

[streetfire id=f24654ce-a23e-4f8a-b8f9-9cb800f038a7 w=428 h=352]

Se me ha colado un gremlin en casa y no parece dispuesto a marcharse…

God, I didn’t realise how much making a new video every day would take out of me. This has become a very, very long week. Anyway, time for part 4 in the Halloweek series, this time Gremlins 2: The New Batch.

Yesterday there was a bat in my Mom’s store.  Up on the ceiling at the back, sleeping.  I took photographs of it, of course, but too bad I missed seeing it fly away!  True, my camera’s batteries nearly died, but I could have taken one more photograph of it flying away.  It was, as you can see in the photographs, small and brown, about three inches long not counting it’s tail or wings, and gremlin-faced when you look at it right.  It was there all day, until Dad captured it in one of my sister’’s net and freed it out in front of the store.  If I hadn’t taken photographs of it, there would be no real point in posting this, right?  Well, it was neat having a bat in the store anyway.  The paint store lady said that she thinks bats are creepy, but I don’t; they’re neat, as long as they don’t get too close to me.  F0ur feet away, fine.  Less than a foot?  Not fine.  Luckily no bat has ever gotten that close.  Now for the photographs.

Okay I made that last one with a picture from Google, but so what?  It looks neat!  Anyway…

What do you think of bats?  Post a comment to let me know!

When we last left our dancing heroine she was undertaking part 5 of her Gremlin Taming Plan on the dance floor at the 46^th Annual Harvest Moon Championship Ball; in front of God, Jose Dechamps and Joanna Zacharewciz (current undefeated US Rhythm Champions) and everyone else in attendance. To recap: she choose option B) Not. Not to do the same mental steps over and over, letting the jitters best her, but to instead create new choreography to better suit the rhythms of her life and stretch her capacities as a dancer and as a person.

So how did our heroine do? Beautifully. None of her worst fears and Gremlin’s favorite tall tales came true. She did not miss a spiral turn and do a face plant. She did not run from the dance floor, on the verge of tears because she blew the routine. No one said, “What the heck do you think you are doing? Do your REALLY think you belong out there on the floor?”

Did the steps always flow beautifully? No, but that is okay, because they moved across the metaphorical floor of life with a positive energy.  Better yet when she did miss a grapevine or spiral turn, she just kept moving into the next pattern of steps. Each pass on the floor, each heat became easier. Practice makes perfect, right?

Change, lasting change, is about cultivating new habits. Conditioning yourself, to think, act and ultimately live differently than in the past. Change takes time, and practice and sometimes not reaching your mark.  When you don’t reach your mark easily that is an opportunity to try a new tact.  When you do reach you mark that is an opportunity to do it again, again and again until it’s just the way to do “It”- whatever “It” is for you. These new habits become the familiar steps in your life’s choreography. You can always choose to rearrange them or incorporate new ones into your dance.

Was the experience interesting and beneficial? Yes. So, the jitters remained for our heroine but were transformed into positive stress propelling her and her partner across the dance floor. Reinforcing self-efficacy. Igniting the deep sense of gratification of accomplishing a personal goal. When our dancer was awarded high honors for an Argentine Tango routine and told she would be performing the routine as part of Saturday night’s events – events that included rounds of professional competition and performances by Jose Dechamps and Joanna Zacharewciz, she did not pass out cold. She got her game face on eventually, took some very deep breaths, straightened out her big girl panties, headed for the door and danced her heart out in front of a crowd. She was humbled and thrilled to hear people clapping and grateful for the opportunity to take a risk.

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AMC Pro Stock press for Wally Booth & his Gremlin X

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That’s right, it’s a Gremlin– without a doubt one, of the ugliest, least respected, aerodynamically-challenged cars ever produced on American soil.  Wisconsin-based AMC had never been known for beautiful design or muscle, and so their entry into the muscle car market in the 1970s was seen as a classic tale of– a day late & a  dollar short.  When AMC signed Wally Booth to head the AMC Pro Stock effort, despite that there were virtually no aftermarket components for AMG engines, he and engine-building partner Dick Arons transformed the brand’s staid grocery-getter reputation from the ground up into that of a genuine performance powerhouse– all from scratch.  Needless to say, everyone on the racing scene quickly took notice, as the red-headed stepchild to America’s “Big Three” automakers worked tirelessly with the little they had, and started to kick some serious tail.

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Wally Booth's Gremlin X

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From AN AMERICAN LONGSHOT – THE AMC FACTORY PRO STOCK EFFORT–

“The AMC engine was no different than any other in that it had its share of problems,” Dick Maskin (cyllinder head guru) said. “It obviously wasn’t designed to be a race engine but it won a few races in its day. It won some NASCAR and on the Trans-Am circuit. The engine was pretty good and they had some special blocks for those programs that we got our hands on. The cylinder heads were the largest problems. We just started making our own with AMC’s blessings with their suppliers and tooling. We basically didn’t have a motorsports center, we had a guy that we’d call and it wasn’t any sweat for them to issue a part number.”

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Wally Booth, ca. 1970s. That hair is outta sight, man. Great style all around -- love the paisley printed shirt.

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Wally Booth began with a Tom Smith-built Gremlin X while Maskin and while Maskin and original partner Jim Gilbert started with one, they were the first to convert to a Hornet. The aerodynamic difference between the two body styles was as clear as night and day. Neither were sleek air-cutters, but the Hornet did have an advantage and that came to light in an April 1973 test session when identical engines were ran in each car.

“The Gremlin was about three and a half miles per hour and a tenth of a second slower than the Hornet,” said Booth. “After that, I ordered a new Hornet from Smith that we debuted at the Spring Nationals in June, and we started to run better.”

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Wally Booth's Gremlin X launching

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The AMC team had worked tirelessly to bring the combination up to speed and their first victory came at the 1974 Gatornationals in Gainesville, Fla.

“There had been some personnel changes at AMC,” said Booth. “Swaim and the other people backing the program had been shifted to other parts of the company, and it was all but official that they were going to put their resources elsewhere. The Gatornationals win absolutely saved the program, and Swaim’s replacement, Bob Wheat, was instrumental in capitalizing on the win. He had been hired to promote racing, and after the Gatornationals, he finally had something to promote.

“It certainly would have been tragic if it had ended then since we had gone from nothing to the winner’s circle in just slightly over two years.”

Cylinder head technology, now Maskin’s money-maker, was discovered to be the key to making the AMC cars run quickly. Booth drove his Hornet to the top qualifying spot at the 1975 U.S. Nationals.

Wally Booth and his Gremlin X

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The following year, Maskin reached four winner’s circles (Springnationals, U.S. Nationals, Fallnationals, World Finals) and finished runner-up once en route to a third place finish in the championship point standings.

That season was the one that almost didn’t happen for the AMC team as Booth said that NHRA tech director Jack Hart had notified him that their cylinder heads would be illegal for 1976. Since much of his funding had fallen through, he raced Pomona with a Vega that he’d leased from Andy Mannarino. He lost in the first round at that event. That early loss would come back to haunt him, as well as an early departure in Gainesville. Booth lost the championship that year to Larry Lombardo by six rounds.

The program reached its highest point in 1976 when Booth met Dave Kanners (driver for Maskin) in the final round during the NHRA Finals at Ontario, Ca. Booth won.

“Between myself, Wally and Dick, we made a lot of progress in the five years we had to work on the program,” Maskin said. “Wally won a lot of races and was fast. At the end of the deal, we were fast, too. We made it to the finals a few times but never won a national. We did win some points races though. The glory day was the final round when Wally beat us in the finals. We were low et and top speed of every round.”

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AMC Pro Stock Hornet X. AMC Pro Stock wa also well-known for their bold red, white & blue graphics.

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“The energy crisis came along and we lost most of our backing. I had another sponsor, who was going to give me a great deal of money as well. I lost a couple of hundred thousand dollars of sponsorship in two phone calls. We continued on self-funded because we already had everything there.”

Booth and Maskin ran a few more seasons and finally closed up shop in 1979. Maskin went on to create Dart cylinder heads and Booth returned to his engine building business.

“I was racing some on my own money that year,” Booth said. “I was running over 160 mph in test at Orange County (Int’l Raceway) two weeks before the Winternationals which was real good at the time. We broke my good motors during those tests though, and I showed up at Pomona with garbage under the hood. At that point I felt like I was done, but I ran the rest of the races anyway to meet my obligations with the sponsors. After the year was over, that was it. I retired from racing.”

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A 1973 factory stock AMC Gremlin

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Back in the day (this ad from '72) you could get an AMC Gremlin with a denim interior by Levi's.

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The big girl panties, professional weight tights, performance shoes, rhinestone festooned dresses and an alarming amount of foundational garments are unpacked and spread around the hotel room. This weekend is the 46th Harvest Moon Championship Ball and I am  competing prepared to tame some Gremlins on the dance floor again. I am off to the Ball with my glass slippers and nerves of steel, well almost.

Today, I put on my rhythm dance armour, to Cha-Cha, Swing (East and West Coast), Rumba, Mambo, Bolero and Argentine Tango my way through the nerves I inevitably feel when performing.  Yes, I will most likely always have a strong feeling of jitters about performing, but how I choose to interpret and react to the sensation of the jitters is entirely under my control.  I am giving myself two options… sometimes its best to narrow down the options of ourselves like we do for kids: You can pick which pants you want to wear, the red ones or the purple ones, but you are going to wear pants… to help with making decisions, but I digress.  I can a) let them over run me, or b) not. Now the second option which is the one I am choosing is not as simple as “not” implies. “Not”, option b, is the what, not the how of my Gremlin Taming Plan. My “not” is changing the normal choreography I  would have followed and changing the steps and quality of movement I bring to the experience.

Let’s unpack the how my Gremlin Taming Plan, there are 5 parts.

Part 1:  Acknowledge that what causes me concern – the jitter, nerves, performance anxiety whatever you want to call it- exist.

Part 2:  Examine what story I am telling about them and look for evidence about why my concerns are founded and unfounded. No one likes to make mistakes, and it can be very disconcerting to make them in public, and YIKES! there are current and former professional national champions here, watching , glup… What am I nuts for thinking I can get out on the floor and look as if I belong here… Heavens to mercury what if I catch my heel and do a face plant instead of a spiral turn… blah, blah, blah.

Part 3: Weigh the consequences I get from my story. Well if you focus on what might happen, especially what bad things might happen you’ll never get to see what good things might happen.

Part 4: Retell my story in a new more positive, proactive voice. You have trained. You have practiced. You have some skills and more importantly you LOVE to dance. You like to watch other people dance and they in turn like to watch you to dance and we all want to do well here. The better I am the better they are, so really this is a win-win. And if for some bizarre reason you do a face plant in place of a spiral turn it will become a memorable cocktail story.

Part 5: Live out my new story and see how my energy shifts. I’ll let you know, but I think it will be something along the lines of this. I whirled and twirled, smiled, cha-cha’ed and contributed to a day filled with excitement, joy and encouragement for many people. It was a success and really gratifying and dang it a lot of fun.

There is no magic formula here and many other folks have outlined in their own words and ways how to begin shifting your normal patterns of thinking and doing. I offer the metaphor of choreography for your life and that you as an adult are the primary choreographer for your life. You can choose to do the same steps over and over, or you can choose to rework your movements to better suit the current rhythms and stretch your capacities. Will it always flow beautifully? No, not likely. Will the experience be interesting and beneficial? Yes. So go find your rhythm, listen to the story is offering and tell your best story now as well as you can.

 Jim and I have a new addition to the family, a kitten.  We had talked before about getting our “own” kitten but had decided to hold off until other things had settled down.  Honestly, I was perfectly happy with just Emmy and Piper, but I guess I understand where Jim is coming from on that: While he adores Emmy and Piper–and trust me, the feeling is mutual, as they love him more than I’ve ever seen them love anyone else besides myself–I think in the back of his mind, he always thinks of them as “step-cats.”  Sounds funny, but feelings are funny things.  

Like I said, the decision before was to leave it alone for now.  But the other day, I went over to my sister’s to take her dog out, and I heard a little “mewmewmew!” and turned to find this tiny guy bounding toward me as fast as his little legs could carry him.  I grabbed him before Vash could get at him and immediately brought him over to Jim, who was waiting for me in the car.  After I was done with Vash, we knocked on some doors to see if the kitten belonged to anyone.  We stopped when we noticed an empty, overturned box in the direction the kitten had come from and figured someone had left him.  We sat in the car, and finally, I turned to Jim and asked, “What do you want to do?”

“Keep him,” he said immediately.  The kitten was crawling on him and Jim was grinning.  We had looked at other kittens before, but this is the first time I had seen Jim “latch” onto one like this.  I decided to worry about vet bills later; we’d get it taken care of, one way or another.  Some things, it seems, are just meant to be.  “Can I name him?” Jim asked.

“We said when we got another cat, you’d be the one to name him.  You have something in mind?”

“Gremlin,” he said.  “Because of his ears and how he was clawing at me earlier.”  Gremlin was looking at Jim and starting to fall asleep, his big ears perked in his new dad’s direction.  “Giiiiiiizmooo!” Jim said in a funny voice, undoubtedly quoting some part of the movie that I don’t remember.

Gremlin.  Totally a name that Jim would name a cat.  It’s perfect.

There has been a lot of rumors and discussion regarding Gremlins 3 actually being a remake or reboot instead of a sequel, and looking at the current Hollywood climate, it sure seems likely, but why?

Logically a remake would attract more theatregoers than Gremlins 3 would.
Fans of the gremlins franchise will see anything Gremlins in the theatre, be it Gremlins 3 or a remake/reboot. So those are guaranteed customers and do not factor in to the math.

However, as it has been nearly 20 years since we have last seen Gremlins in any form (commercials, games,  and DVD releases not withstanding) there is an entire generation of potential ticket sales that have never even seen Gremlins in the media.  Those customers are unlikely to see a sequel to a movie they never have seen before. Sure some might rent the previous films but they frankly do not have the legacy that other long-dormant movie franchises (like Ghostbusters) do.

Let’s try it this way:

Say there are a million people who are guaranteed ticket sales. They love the previous movies, and would absolutely see a new one in the theatre, regardless of it being a reboot or sequel.

Remake: 1 Million
Sequel: 1 Million

Now let’s take the rest of the moviegoing poulation, and pretend it is 10 million more people. They are undecided.

Undecided: 10m
Remake: 1m
Sequel: 1m

Of that 10m undecided a good number are going to be under the age of 18, as most people who make up the bulk of ticket sales are youth. Let’s number them at 7 Million.

Undecided Adults: 3m
Undecided Youth: 7m
Remake: 1m
Sequel: 1m

Here is where we diverge.

(more after the jump!)
You can still assume healthy ticket sales for a sequel since those adults that are undecided on what movie to see this week are at the very least aware of Gremlins in a general sense. But there is a major catch here. Not all of those adults will want to see Gremlins 3, for whatever reason, be it they didn’t enjoy the prior movies, or simply lost interest in the franchise over the years. That 3 million people will split into a much smaller number at least three ways and we may see something like this:

Undecided Adults: 1m
Lost Adults: 1m
Undecided Youth: 7m
Remake: 1.5m
Sequel: 1.5m

Most people who are undecided on a film will end up simply not going at all rather than spend 10$ a ticket on a gamble, hence the Lost Adults figure being so high.
Let’s take a look at the youth now.
Most of the under 18 crowd will be uninterested in a movie that hasn’t been touched or hyped in 20 years, unless they have older brothers/sisters that have an interest in the franchise. There have been no high profile video games, books, comics, cards, board games or toys in at least 15 years. While some may dig the “retro 80’s” scene, the vast majority are going to pass a sequel for a movie they haven’t seen up before giving it a shot.

Undecided Adults: 1m
Lost Adults: 1m
Undecided Youth: 5.5m
Remake: 1.5m
Sequel: 3m

Let’s try adding in the possibilty of a remake again. A remake is an interesting beast. While you will lose a percentage of hardcore devotees, it is nearly insignificant as most people who were fans of the film that is being remade will see it simply to see what they think will be a train wreck, and confirm their opinions.The thing to remember is that a remake will also bring in new younger fans and people on “date nights” that might otherwise be turned off to the concept of a sequel.

Undecided Adults: 0
Lost Adults: 1m

Undecided Youth: 0
Lost Youth:1.5m
Remake: 6.5m
Sequel: 3m

So we have a guesstimate total of 9.5 million people going to see a gremlins movie from a sample of 12 million people. Pretty nice, but we aren’t done yet.
This is what the studios look at. They don’t want to make a movie that only 25% of potential (read: those that aren’t in the “Lost” category) customers will pay to see. They want to get every one of  them they can. Our logic here also assumes that there are two films showing at the same time, one remake, one sequel. As we know that doesn’t happen, why would a studio invest in what is a clear loss of potential sales? They know that there is money in both a remake and sequel, but if only 25% of potential customers or less will come see it, they will just throw it on DVD for a fraction of the cost and take what they can get rather than go for a full theatrical release.

This brings us to the studio’s likely reasoning to consider a remake.

Let’s look at some factors.

• We are dealing with a 25 year old franchise that has had little exposure in 15 years or more.
• The original film’s cast and crew, while phenomenal in their performances are really not household names and will not draw people to a theatre
• The issues associated with a sequel and the continuity set forth, could hamper creative new ideas for the film.
• The money in merchandising Gremlins is not what it was in the 80’s.

A sequel would limit the film to those that are aware of the previous movies, and the only way to re-ignite the interest is re-release the originals (as is being done with Toy Story)

So it looks like a sequel is a bad idea on paper. Remember the goal of the movies is to sell tickets, then DVDs later on, so they don’t want to take risks on something that could be a poor seller.

A remake, however, has the potential to attract ALL the aforementioned possible customers. The people who would give the sequel a shot would probably try out a remake in hopes that it leads to a great franchise, and more interesting Gremlins stories or merchandise.The studios know this and I think in the end they look at it like this:

If there is a sequel, it will be direct to DVD
If there is a remake/reboot it will be a major theatrical release.

While I am sure many of you are unhappy to consider the concept of a direct-to-dvd sequel, the reality is Gremlins is not Ghostbusters.

How many people who saw The Hills Have Eyes or The Last House On The Left knew that they were both based on older films? While people know about Friday the 13th, Halloween and Nightmare On Elm Street, they are all seen as stupid 80s slasher flicks, or “corny”, “campy” or whatnot. They were not taken seriously. The remakes and reboots are an attempt at regaining the interest that was once there but from a new generation. For the most part, both Halloween and F13 have succeeded at this.
Granted, there are many remakes that have bombed horrendously, The Mist, Planet Of The Apes, Godzilla, and too many more to name.
The remake trend seems to be continuing with a Karate Kid reboot, Neverending Story remake and a few others in the pipeline.

The beauty of a remake is it entices new viewers into becoming fans, who then often gain an interest in the older films, spurring additional revenue in rentals/purchases. It also courts the old fans into spending money in the theatre, so the potential for profit is immensely larger than a sequel.

What are your thoughts? What are your reasonings behind your support of a sequel or remake?

Trampling all over your sense of reality, breaking into your homes and playing tic-tac-toe with your sanity, and just making you wake up screaming in the middle of the night is getting far too easy, and quite frankly,  I’m so very bored.  My psychiatrist was telling me that I might need make the whole thing more challenging.  And then I pushed him down a flight of stairs.  I never trusted the sanctity of the doctor-patient privilege.  Death is a more permanent way of keeping secrets.  Needless to say, I saw the doctor again on my way out of the building and he didn’t seem to be feeling too well.

I know that you frequently look in your fridge and find things missing.  Now, I’m sure that you pass it off as a brain fart or the midnight munchies by another member of your household.  Well, I can assure you that it is neither of those things.  It was the Fridge Gremlin.  That little bastard has been robbing everyone blind ever since humans found a way to store food safely. And we totally let him.  Hell, he’s under contract for it. If you’ve found that he is frequently hitting your household, you should know that you can make your own fridge guard.

To do so, take a nice gallon of milk, drink it until it’s about halfway done, and leave it in the fridge until it’s about to expire.  Then, add in some swine flu, a socket wrench, and some pork fried rice (without MSG) from six months ago, shake it up really well and leave it in a sunny spot to stew. You’ll notice that the container starts to change shape.  Sometimes it’ll bow out and other times it’ll look like it’s going to implode – it really all depends on which strain of flu you added.  Whatever you do, do not release the pressure by opening the cap.  Not only will the fumes pull the nose-ring out of your lip (oooh, you’re such a rebel), it will also knock up your grandfather.  Once the limits of the container have been reached, put the concoction back in the fridge and you won’t be bothered by the Gremlin again.  Of course, there is a very good possibility that the fumes will manage to find their way through the walls of the container and contaminate the rest of the food.  Sure, your butter may eventually kill you, but your produce will be safe.

Take a long look at the floor of your closet.  Seeing more coat hangers than you ever remember purchasing?  Um, yeah, about that…  we may have accidentally dropped a few into the bunny mating frenzy pen and may have arranged for a few tainted coat hangers to ship with every package.  While I admit that it was pretty funny watching your futile efforts to unload all the extra hangers at Goodwill or the dump, it really did get monotonous to watch you freak out every single time you gathered them up to make the journey.  You’re killing me.  Just neuter them already.  Just take a hacksaw or something to that hook-like thing at the top of each of your hangers.  They’ll never multiply again.

Well, that’s all you’re getting for tonight.  I’m hoping that’ll be enough to clear out your schedules for some new things I’ve cooked up.  If it’s not, you’ll be hearing about it.

Okay, it seems I am on some sort of “anti-Santa” kick, but really I am not. Also, this was in no way inspired by the Grinch. I actually drew it after watching “The Mist”, no connection there either. It started as a sketch, a sketch that I didn’t even like, but I am getting too old to keep throwing stuff away. So, instead , I have decided to see where they go if I don’t give up on them.

Ugh, trust me to get sick right when I’m supposed to me moving. I can’t take my bed with me, so my dad came over and took it home, but now I feel all achy and stuff and no where to lie down on. -.- Do you know that feeling when you’re just about to break into a fever? That’s what I felt like last night; my body starting to sweat, but shiver at the same time, and then getting pains at random parts of my body.

Anyways, I just have the sore throat today. I broke my fever last night by putting on tons of layers, turning up the heater, sleeping under the comforter and sweating it out. It’s such an uncomfortable way to get rid of a fever, but works like a charm.

While I’m home and doing nothing, because I can only get a bed later tonight at around 10pm when my friend gets to their place, I’m going to sit here and type a compilation of weirdos I’ve met through the years. Most are from the club, but some are just from the street. So enjoy~

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Dr. Teeth

I was at the gay club with my friends, Noodle, John, Vix, Cha-Cha, and Pepe. All being gay guys, they won any vote to choose the club to dance at. -.- Ok, the layout of the club was simple. In the downstairs level, there were two main rooms, one that had the entrance, bar and some tables, and the other room attached being the dance floor, its walls covered in mirrors. There was a counter that stretched out so that people could stand with their drinks while watching the dance floor and I was there, just watching people dance. I get bumped on my side.

It wasn’t so much a bump, the guy was apparently trying to bop my bum, but I was so short, and he was so tall he hit my back. I turned around and looked up. The man leaned down and smiled. His skin was black as the black-painted walls that I could only see the whites of his eyes and his teeth. He was missing teeth on the lower part of his mouth.

“Do you want to dance?”, his voice rumbled.

“…Um, sorry. I’m fine just watching,” I reply, somewhat intimidated.

He turns away and then continues throughout the room, asking every female there if they wanted to dance. Now, this place was a GAY club, so I have no idea why he was only asking women to dance. Anyhow, I was enjoying watching him get turned down, so I kept watching him. My mistake. He turns around and sees me looking at him.

Oh shit.

I turn around, facing my friends and pretending that I didn’t see anything.

Now, at the time my hair was extremely short. It was more like a bob, cut short like a guy’s. From behind me, the man with teeth missing on the lower jaw started kissing the back of my neck. I froze like a deer in front of headlights, alarms blaring in my head. John, seeing what has happening, and being a more sassy kind of gay guy, immediately stood up and started bitching at the guy, chasing him off, which I find funny now because John is maybe 5′4″ and the man was well over 6 feet. At the time however, I felt boundless amounts of disgust welling up in me. I ran to the washroom and scrubbed at my neck for a full 30 minutes, but it still disturbed me for a good number of days.

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The Gremlins

I was at the same gay club again (I swear it’s all Noodle, John, and Vix’s faults that I get weird stories like this!), and I was dancing on the dance floor. Yeah, I was kinda by myself eventually, but I was enjoying myself. Suddenly I could feel someone dancing behind me. I thought it was maybe Pepe or Noodle, because they sometimes dance with me, but after a few moments, I thought to myself,

“My gay friends don’t touch me there….”

I stop dancing and turn around. It was a small brown fellow; I couldn’t really see his face well in the dark, except that he wasn’t good looking. I stutter a bit in surprise.

“Oh. Hi. What’s your name?”

As he starts to answer, I turn and leave the dance floor as fast as I could short of running. I found Noodle and the others laughing their asses off as they saw the whole thing. >_>

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The Gremlins 2

I was at the same club AGAIN, and I was dancing with my friends on the dance floor. Then Noodle felt like he wanted to sit down, and Vix did too, so eventually I had some space around me. I was enjoying myself and slightly drunk when I suddenly saw the small brown fellow from before dancing towards me.

Holy freaking crap. Is he ALWAYS here??!?!?

I start dancing away from him when a body behind me stops me. I look and it’s ANOTHER small brown guy.

HOLY….They multiplied!!!!!!

I was going to dance in another direction when ANOTHER brown guy appeared, then ANOTHER. Soon, I was surrounded by four little brown men and I was about ready to freak out. So I grab at another random guy, and whisper, “please, ….save me!” and he puts his arm around me and dances with me till the brown guys go away. -.-

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Magician of Surprises

I was dancing in Play, a latin themed club on the border of the gay village. It’s a pretty good club and one night Noodle and I were there with our friends. A woman went around to the various people, doing magic tricks for them on the dance floor. Eventually, she got to us and started pulling a cloth out of everything; ears, shirts, even guy’s pant zippers. As she finished her small show, she wanted to introduce herself to everyone. She extended her hand to me first.

“Hi! I’m Sahara!” she said.

I smiled and shook her hand, to which she promptly took my hand to her groin to touch something there. My eyes widened as I took my hand back quickly. The others didn’t see so she did the same to Noodle as well. He yelled out.

Guess that was a normal reaction. Not everyday when you get to touch a woman’s penis….

Maybe that was part of the act?

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Love From Mr. Chin

I was walking down the street from my school with some schoolmates, and I was in the back of the group, talking to a girl. We were crossing the street and passing by a seemingly homeless old Chinese man. As he passed me, he leaned forward and whispered ardently in my ear,

“I LOVE YOU!…”

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DID YOU SAY MY NAME??

I was crossing Spadina on Queen west and then a man ran up to me. He was dirty and his clothes were torn. He had bruises and cuts all over him, and he was covered in dirt. One of his eyes’ whites were bleeding and his nose was bleeding as well.

“Did you say my name???”

I look at him in confusion, saying nothing.

“I SAID DID YOU SAY MY NAME?????”

I try to walk away from him.

“DON’T FUCKING SAY MY NAME!!! DON’T YOU FUCKING SAY MY NAME!!!!!”

I just ran away from there as quick as possible.