For our first full weekend in Thailand, we decided to get away. Most of our new acquaintances were heading northwest, to popular rural tourist town, Pai. We felt that joining them would be a blunder. Since we see them on a regular basis, we thought we should disembark, detox, and detour to some other remote Thai location. We wanted a place where we could experience the natural and fierce beauty of the north, a place we could be the only farang, a place away from the sound of traffic, we wanted Chiang Dao.

Now, I don’t want to give off the impression that this was a well thought out trip, an insightful choice. It was a) luck and b) just the product of being bad-asses (random success comes with the territory). We woke up Saturday morning to a knock on the door. It was Tom, our new amigo and fellow bad ass. “Get up, we are getting motorcycles” was all that was said, but it lit the fire. We packed a backpack, took a shower, and headed out. After securing motorcycles we headed to the nearest book store for inspiration and perhaps a map. Someone had a vague recollection of a particularly beautiful stretch of road that led to some picturesque villages that would be a perfect mission for our new biker gang. We hoped seeing some names on a map would help, it didn’t. So, Cengiz bought a map of the golden triangle, since it seemed to cover the immediate area north of Chiang Mai and we went to lunch, determined to figure out the itinerary while we fueled up for the day.

During lunch, we threw out the name of just about every city on the map and futilely debated over which to choose (since no one had any idea about any of them, I can’t believe this lasted as long as it did). Meanwhile, I shuffled through Gina’s Thailand guide (we were a foursome) and found mention of a “Pai without the party” (Pai is the popular “rural” get away, not too far from Chiang Mai, that now offers nightlife and any number of organized “adventures”) called Chiang Dao, directly north of Chiang Mai and situated under an impressive mountain. This sounded just as good as any other place we brainstormed and even had a recommendation to back it up, so the choice was easy, the bill was paid and we were off.

WAIT. Not quite. Cengiz just dumped the motorbike. OK, no blood or permanent damage? Now we’re off. It was tough getting out of the city. Thailand doesn’t do traffic lights very often, so there are lots of one way streets and turnarounds that make navigation difficult for a non-native. When you also add the adaptation of driving on the other side of the road and the lack of traffic laws in general, there is enough fear, adrenaline, and information thrown at a driver to freak out any first timer. So, being the overachiever that he is, Cengiz dumped it, AGAIN. This time there was blood, broken glass, and snapped metal, so we had to stop. After buying some really hilariously frivolous band aids, we were back on the road again (somehow the dangling break from the left handlebar was not a successful deterrent). To make sure the blood had as long as possible to ruin his socks and shorts, we were proceeding with extreme caution (and lack of speed), for the rest of the 3 hr. trip. To be honest, we were all a little rattled with the events (Cengiz was, after all, the only one of us to have been on a motorcycle) so the 45 km/hr cruising speed was widely accepted and actually turned out to be a great pace for cruising to the iPod speakers blaring UGK out of my cup holder.

The trip was going very well before our caravan was overcome by a true South East Asian rainstorm. As we were in the middle of nowhere when it hit, we have very few options and elected to brave the elements and press on. After about 20 minutes, the rain subsided, and we found ourselves cruising through a rain forest, rapidly drying in the wind. This is what we came for. The scenery was so beautiful that it was dangerous. It was difficult to keep your eyes on the road, which was also wet, and winding through a precipitous mountainside. Looking out over the trees, we saw mile upon mile of the lushest vegetation on the planet. At one point I found myself counting shades of greens as I scanned the canopy for monkeys. We slowed our pace to a crawl, the curves were intimidating and there was no reason to rush this stretch of road, especially once we found ourselves following a crooked river on our left.

Almost as soon as the picturesque stretch ended, we saw the signs we were looking for, so we followed with a right hand turn and enjoyed the 2 km to Chiang Dao. The city isn’t much. Which, I guess is the point. I ran into a Dutch Pirate (no joke) and he couldn’t recommend anywhere to stay or eat so we grabbed a beer at a local shop to rest our soar necks and hash out a plan for accommodations. I saw a sign for a home stay who’s name seemed familiar, so we scoured the Lonely Planet to confirm. They agreed, “Malee’s” was the place to go, 4 km back up the road we had come, situated right under the mountain.

The home stay was perfect. When we pulled in, we weren’t sure we had the right place, it seemed abandoned. Then, we were greeted by the hounds and a “receptionist.” After being showed some bungalow’s right out of a movie, we quickly payed the man for the night and got started on his refreshingly cold Chang beer collection. It was already pitch black, I could barely see Tom across the table, and after 3+ hrs en route, we were exhausted. Dinner was a distant thought, but one we thought should be heeded none the less. We hesitatingly asked if there would be dinner served that night, it was so dark we were sure it was going to be a difficult request. It was 6:00. Of course there would be dinner, if we could just wait for them to prepare the grill, it would be served within the hour.

The fresh local coals sparked like a pile of flint; the deep reds flying through the air against the pitch black were mesmorizing, like projectile magma from a personal volcano. Exhausted, the four of us faded into the dark silence, entranced by the visuals. We were broken from this moment of rest by a small creature scurrying round behind us in the dark. It jumped up and bit tom. It was a “Peter.” Now “Peters” are the rarest creature I have encountered. They resemble your standard 8 year old Germanic Thai, but they also speak French and English and are fluent in snake hissing, barking, and tiger growling. They climb with the agility of a chimp, can identify any vegetable in the garden, but particularly prefer bananas, and (as any cold blooded creature) enjoy curling up to warm bodies, specifically homestay guests. Peter was our entertainment for much of the night, biting bottles, bodies, and bananas and showing off his mastery of Muay Thai and genital crushing to anyone in his path, no matter the size. Peter’s mom, the unbelievable Malee, is unbelievably amazing. She not only speaks several languages, has a nack for decorating, runs the most efficient guest house I have ever been to, knows first aid, knows everything about the area, and makes friends with other people FOR you, she also has jokes. As she was brutally cleaning Cengiz’s wounds, she would remind him that there would be “no loving tonight, you have to stay off your knees” or that he should go to the hospital, not for medical care, but for “a sexy young nurse.”

After the wounds were cleaned up, we were served with heaping portions of pork cuts, chicken wings, fresh shrimp, squid, salad, pineapple, and a variety of magnificent, home made condiments. It was absolutely delicious. We spent the rest of the evening eating, drinking, meeting some fellow visitors, and figuring out that we should hit the sack so that we could be up and chipper for the 5:45 sunrise from Thailand’s most sacred place, the Wat atop the overshadowing mountain next to (and above) us.

Cengiz and I made it up the 500 stairs to the mountain, in pitch black, which was not easy. Most of the climbing was just keeping a rhythm. We couldn’t see the steps but knew the pace and length of each stride so as not to miss the next. Once up the steps we came to a wat, dug into the side of the rocks, with a look out tower lined with and guarded by Thai basilisks. We patiently waited for the sun to show, but were let down. The overcast skies left us with a gradual glow rather than any kind of “breaking of dawn.” However, we were alerted to the exact moment of the sunrise as we were lucky enough to hear th monk alarm clock. At exactly 5:45, when the sun started its rise, a loud high pitch sound crashed out of the jungle. Unwaveringly, it held its note as a symphony of other jungle sounds -chirps, croaks, howls, clicks- joined the note, like an orchestra tuning to the oboe. The morning went from a deafening silence, to an even more astounding roar of sound.

After taking some video and pictures, we headed back down to base camp. Tom was still struggling with the local stomach bug he picked up the evening before and Gina was playing with Peter. We mounted the bikes, loaded up some emergency TP, and took off for home. Cengiz regained his confidence so we ripped through the country side at nearly twice our previous speed. The rush was incredible and the weather couldn’t be more perfect. Along the way we randomly came upon an elephant, grazing near the side of the road. The beast’s hunger and resounding sense of power was intimidating and though it was docile and obliging to our attention, my heart was pounding and my spider senses activated to a state of hyper-alertness. After taking off again at breakneck speed, we found ourselves making ridiculously good time, good enough to warrant a detour at Shri Lanna National Park. We didn’t get to boat out into the lake to the floating house or uncover the park’s waterfalls, but it was a beautiful backdrop for some lunch and a break for our bike sore backs.

When we finally were getting into the city area, we reduces speed with the increased danger of the traffic and things stayed well… for a while. Rain once again started pounding the troupe as we were just entering the city’s center. It was uncomfortable, but we had ridden in it before so we pressed on. The city’s moat, which is now the center of the city’s main avenue, is easily the most difficult traffic for a first time rider. We cautiously entered the avenue and I made the turn to enter our final stretch before dropping the biks off. When I looked in my mirror, no one was following. I pulled over and waited for 5 minutes, hoping my comrades would be following shortly. Nothing. I assumed they took a different route, we had said “if all else fails, meet at the shop.” So, I headed there to drop my bike off and meet them. I was waiting long enough to get a table next door and order a beer. My stomach was beset with a pit the size of a watermelon- Cengiz dumped it on the wet turn and was in the hospital, I knew it. I waited for a solid 20 minutes until they finally rolled up. As Tom and Cengiz went to go settle up, Gina explained to me that Tom T-Boned a Tuk Tuk and flipped it. He was ok, and the tuk tuk driver survived with minor scrapes. A quick 1,000 baht bribe was sufficient to keep the police out of things. The damages to the two bikes cost a total of 600 baht, so financially it was no big deal. And, with everyone safe, we walked back to the hotel, laughing at the absurdity of our 50% casualty rate and enjoying the sheer sensation of relief that we made it back. Nostalgic musings about the paradise we enjoyed at “Malee’s” didn’t hinder the cloud 9 high either.

Once upon a time, two young, handsome men were sat at their desks in their office. They were contemplating the meaning of life when it dawned upon them that it was time to make a difference to the world. Having thought about what they could do, it quickly became apparent that the answer was not much!

Therefore, they have decided that from Monday 30th November, they will do one new thing a day for the proceeding 100 days!

The rules:

1. The ‘thing’ has to be something new. Something that neither Tom or Ally have ever done before.
2. No waxing will be involved!
3. Every day, Tom & Ally will report their ‘new thing’ on this blog.

1)  You get hammered at dinner and talk about how the American Indians were screwed out of Manhattan island during the War of 1812..

2) Make your daughter cry because you tell her that OBAMA chopped the head of Tom Turkey on the front lawn of the White House because he thought it was Bill O’Reilly…

3) Talk incessantly about how you played high school football and that during the 1974 Thanksgiving Day game vs your rival Teaneck that you threw a touchdown pass to your best buddy, who stole your 8 track player from your 1967 Chevy Nova…

4)  Make statements like  “  You think the recession is bad now on Thanksgiving, wait until Christmas hits kids…Trust me it will be brutal “…”  Just being honest people”….

5) Keep bringing up deceased members of the family at dinner  and what FOODS they DIDN’T like when they were ” with us”…  ex.  POP POP ( Grandpa) hated sweet potatoes, or “remember how Aunt Sylvia used to hate gravy”….

    Oh well you get it  …Let’s hear  some of your Worst things scenarios !

This is our work of the week end:

firstly you can see the concept of the space factory and of the london agency

secondly , the design of the sea factory with the pumps, the structure the solar panels roof and the begining of the pipe/elevator

Fashion designer Tom Ford makes his directorial debut with this dramatic outing starring Colin Firth, Julianne Moore, and Matthew Goode. Ford and David Scearce adapted the story from a book by Christopher Isherwood, which tells the tragic tale of a professor’s loss of his longtime partner.

Every so often I’ve updated the list of films that I have already seen with brief reviews.  Call it the complete-ist in me, but when I’m done with reviewing each of the films in the book, I’d like to have reviewed every single film in the book.

Anyhow, here’s another batch for you to read.

Enjoy!

Shichinin No Samurai AKA Seven Samurai (1954)

The Seven Samurai is the first movie that I had the pleasure of seeing from the master director Akira Kurosawa, and it is also one of his most praised works. Without a wasted frame, the story takes place over the course of almost 3 hours. Kurosawa, as he does in each of his movies, explores more than just the action and injustice featured in the plot. He is a humanist first and foremost, training his lens on the interpersonal relationships of the characters, tracking growth across this epic. As good as this film is, I would have to say that Kurosawa has numerous films that are even better, check out Stray Dog, Rashomon, Yojimbo, Sanjuro, and my personal favorite High and Low.

The Ladykillers (1955)

Existing as a special combination of dark humor, and slapstick farce, The Ladykillers is exceptionally funny and unsettling. Alec Guinness stars as the leader of a group of criminals staying at the home of a hardy, vivacious older lady under the guise of being musicians. The plan is simple, rob a bank, and utilizing the trusting nature of the kindly old lady, and the remoteness of her home to their advantage, get away with it. Easily my favorite of Alec Guinness’ films (thanks in part to the Star Wars prequels that is), The Ladykillers features a solid cast of great actors, including a very young Peter Sellers.

Bob Le Flambeur AKA Bob the Gambler (1955)

My introduction to the fantastic Jean-Pierre Melville, I was captivated immediately by the cool as ice gangster come gambler Bob. This film is filled with signature Melville-isms. Glorious post war street scenes in Paris. Trench-coats. Honor among thieves. And who could forget the caper. To talk too much about this film is to give too much away, and to do that is to ruin it for those who haven’t seen it. Other classics by Melville: Le Cercle Rouge, Le Samourai, and the recently released in the U.S. Army of Shadows. All are fantastic, and deserve to be in this book! Incidentally, Bob le Flambeur was recently re-made into The Good Thief starring Nick Nolte and directed by Neil Jordan, and while I’m not generally a fan of re-makes, I really, really liked this film. Not quite as good as the original, but it was one of my favorite films of 2002.

Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

The ultimate in hardboiled private eye crime stories, Kiss Me Deadly is a full on assault on decency. Kiss Me Deadly proudly presents itself as a grimy PI story, littered with bodies and intrigue. If you even have a passing interest in film noir, this should be your first stop. Violent, misogynist, brutish, and glorious, Kiss Me Deadly begs to be watched and dares you to look away. I myself, loved it!

The Ten Commandments (1956)

Apparently based on a book, The Ten Commandments is an epic in every sense of the word. Colored in bright explosive candy hues, and featuring huge sets, as well as a cast that number in the thousands, The Ten Commandments is more spectacle than great movie. Certainly not a waste of time, but not my first choice when choosing something light to throw in.

Det Sjunde Inseglet AKA The Seventh Seal (1957)

A classic, and well-loved film by Swedish auteur Ingmar Bergman, The Seventh Seal stars an extremely young Max von Sydow as a knight who faces Death at a game of chess to decide his fate. This film is filled with themes that find their way into each of Bergman’s works, ranging from courage in the face of death, religion, and humanity. The Seventh Seal still holds up to this day, with luminous black and white photography that, thanks to Criterion’s Blu-ray edition, has never looked better.

Note: Don’t be fooled by the similarly themed, but much worse, “Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey”

Kumonosu Jo AKA Throne of Blood (1957)

Kurosawa’s retelling of Macbeth set in feudal Japan. Shakespeare has never looked better as it does in the stark black and white, twisting shadows and swirling mists as seen through Kurosawa’s camera. Toshiro Mifune doesn’t disappoint in the lead role, but the real stand out is Isuzu Yamada in the as Mifune’s opportunistic, poisonous wife. The plotting and scheming starts right from the get go, all the way up till the frenzied end of the film.

Touch of Evil (1958)

One of the many trouble spots on Orson Welles’ resume due to studio interference, and financing issues, still Touch of Evil remains as possibly the best B-Movie ever made. Iconic (and sometimes hilarious) performances by Janet Leigh, Charlton Heston (as a Mexican) and Welles himself as the crooked cop willing to do almost anything to ensure justice prevails (just so long as it’s his justice). The movie is almost as famous for its long tracking shot opening as it is for any of the performances, featuring a nearly 4 minute shot done in one take which travels around cars, actors, and buildings. The film The Player, payed homage to it by mentioning it a few times during a similarly complex shot in that film.

Vertigo (1958)

Flopping on its initial release, Vertigo didn’t gain the acclaim it deserved until much later after it was released on video. Vertigo visits themes present in each of Hitchcock’s other works, including the obsession with blondes, innocence tainted with corruption, and the schlub who get in over his head. Jimmy Stewart plays the schlub, Kim Novak plays the blonde, and gloriously technicolored San Francisco plays the innocence and the corruption. Vertigo has a twisty convoluted story with elements of surrealism, an interesting watch.

Mon Oncle AKA My Uncle (1958)

My favorite of Jacques Tati’s Monsieur Hulot films, Mon Oncle was also the first of them that I had seen. Tati, playing Hulot, is a master of visual comedy, and not in the same way as the Three Stooges, or even Buster Keaton. Tati is an artist whose work is appreciated the longer you watch. The plot of the movie is not so much important to the film as it is simply a guide to get our characters into interesting situations so we can watch them get out. If you liked this film, check out other films featuring the bumbling Mr. Hulot, including Trafic, Playtime, and Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot.

Les Quatre Cents Coups AKA The 400 Blows (1959)

My personal favorite of the French new wave movement was this small-scale film, personal piece from Francois Truffaut. Featuring the director’s alter ego, Antoine Doinel, The 400 Blows is the first in a series of movies, each about a different stage of life and the challenges that go along with them. The period from childhood to young adult is covered heart-breakingly here, following Antoine through the rough waters of his home life and his interaction with the outside world. Later chapters deal with finding love, getting married, having children, and growing old, but Les Quatres Cent Coups remains the directors most personal and his best.

North by Northwest (1959)

One of Hitchcock’s best, North by Northwest features Cary Grant, suave as ever, being mistaken for a government agent by a group of foreign spies. Just like in Hitchcock’s most famous works (of which this is one), the witty one-liners, suspense, and drama are heaped on generously. I can’t help but feel sad that a similarly themed, but better film featuring Cary Grant was left off this 1001 list. Charade, also featuring Audrey Hepburn, James Coburn, and Walter Matthau, is one of my favorite movies ever! Check out both Charade AND North by Northwest as a double feature! You won’t be sorry.

Some Like it Hot (1959)

Now this is an example of a classic, well-loved film, with actors that I really love (Jack Lemmon I’m looking at you), a premise that is more than suitable, yet the finished product never really caught me. It’s sort of like Hitchcock’s To Catch a Thief. I never really saw what all the hype was about. That being said, I didn’t hate it either. It never made fun of me when I had braces, or turned me down for a date, my affections and this film have just always been mutually exclusive. Perhaps it deserves another watch…then again maybe I should just watch The Last Boyscout again.

A Bout De Souffle AKA Breathless (1959)

Jean-Luc Godard is nothing if not a sacred cow of French cinema, and while I have loved some of his other films (Le Mepris, Bande A Part, and Masculin Femenine), Breathless or A Bout De Souffle never really did it for me. I can still rationalize why it was so revolutionary (use of jump cuts, editing, non-actors, and subscription to the aesthetic of the French new wave style), and see it’s importance, but I prefer other examples of New Wave cinema. If you are interested in seeing a Godard film, try Masculin Feminine, it is just as revolutionary and a bit more accessible.

Psycho (1960)

A prime example of Hitchcock in his prime. Psycho was so good, and so affecting that some of its actors were type cast just on the strength of this one film (Anthony Perkins, and Janet Leigh), so much so that without a little research it’s hard to think of what other films either of them has been in. Psycho may not be as visually shocking and gory as horror films of today, but it still manages to hold up over time and be just as unsettling as it was back in its day. Hitchcock has always excelled at making the comfortable un-comfortable (motels, birds, tea, dreams, the list goes on…), and the subtle touches in this film work perfectly. Consider for a moment that Perkin’s Bates is an amateur taxidermist of birds, and then that Janet Leigh’s name is Marion Crane a type of bird, or the fact before the crime Marion is wearing a white bra and a white purse, while after it she is wearing a black bra and purse. His attention to detail, and knack for foreshadowing is demonstrated in full force in Psycho and remains one of his best films. Despite all the uproar over the Gus Van Sant remake, I thought it actually did some justice to the original film and if nothing else brought it a little more deserved attention.

Note: This film also has the distinction of being the first American film to ever show a toilet flushing on-screen.

Peeping Tom (1960)

Released the same year as Psycho, and dealing with similar subject matter, Peeping Tom wasn’t received with the same acclaim and attention that the former was. On the contrary, Peeping Tom was seen as subversive, perverted, and generally too shocking. The story revolves more around the killer than the victim in this one, whereas Psycho is presented more from the victim’s point of view. Either way, Peeping Tom is a fine film, one worth watching, however it is so similar to Psycho that I’m not sure it needs to be on the list of 1001 films.

The Apartment (1960)

As far as light-hearted, touching movies about someone recovering from a bout of depression, this one is my favorite. Billy Wilder directs Shirley MacLaine and Jack Lemmon in a sweet touching comedy without losing any of his trademark cynicism or the pointedness of his dialogue. The Apartment is another chance for me to champion the somewhat maligned talents of Mr. Fred MacMurray as Lemmon’s boss. MacMurray plays a fantastic creep who really defines the term “heel”.

Spartacus (1960)

Containing almost none of the trademark elements that make up a Stanley Kubrick movie as we know it (Kubrick apparently dis-owned the film before it’s release), Spartacus remains an interesting movie that isn’t great. It is, however, another example of a film that enabled an up and coming filmmaker to gain his voice, and define himself later on in his career. If only for that reason, Spartacus is a great film, but luckily for the studio, it has some other things going for it. Kirk Douglas plays the title role of Spartacus, and despite all the lavish set production, and concentration on spectacle, brings some heart to the slave who defied Rome.

Jules Et Jim AKA Jules and Jim (1962)

One of director, Francois Truffaut’s most well thought of films, Jules and Jim may be the Lost In Translation, or Juno of its time. Viewed from a certain angle, the plot is a completely moving and emotional story that you believe, so much so, that you can see yourself and those around you in the roles that these characters embody. Viewed from another perspective, it can seem a little precious or purposefully manipulative. Depending on what is happening in your life (I’m mostly thinking about whether or not you are in a relationship, and if you are happy), this movie can preach the glory of love and the pain of rejection. On the flipside, if you have shaken free the angsty, teenager-esque feelings everyone has had in their youth, you may feel like you’re being talked down to.

Cleo De 5 A 7 AKA Cleo from 5 to 7

Taking place, as the title suggests, from 5 to 7, we get a slice of the life of Cleo played out before us. Sometimes we, along with Cleo herself, are a voyeurs into the lives of people around her, and other times we are focused on her as she roams around Paris. By and large Cleo lives a carefree, spoiled life, yet we still sympathize with her when times are hard, and cheer for her when they are good. This is a small film in a lot of ways, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t impacting and beautiful.

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

I have to admit.  I didn’t like Lawrence of Arabia that much.  Perhaps I was too young to appreciate the aesthetic beauty of Lean’s desert panorama camerawork, or just maybe it was the epic length that decided it for me.  One way or another, I didn’t appreciate it as much as everyone else seems to think I should. 

The Manchurian Candidate (1962)

Overly reliant on gimmicks and quick editing techniques, The Manchurian Candidate doesn’t flesh out the story nearly…wait, no that was the terrible re-make that came out in 2004.  The original 1962 version, is just as taught, and well executed today as it was at its release.  While the story between the two versions remained virtually the same, the consistent building of tension and anxiety, combined with the pitch perfect acting of Lawrence Harvey, Frank Sinatra (yes…Frank Sinatra), and the devilish turn of Angela Lansbury as the Queen of Hearts, makes for a fantastic film.

Lolita (1962)

It took me forever to finally see Lolita.  I have known the basic story (older man, younger girl) but had just never gotten around to seeing it.  And while I’ve been told that the book is much better, I thought the film was pretty good.  Not great, mind you, but definitely solid.  The shocking and controversial nature of the relationship was toned down a bit for the screen, and maybe as a result doesn’t seem all that shocking in today’s day and age.  Memorable turns by Peter Sellers, and Shelley Winters, not to mention it’s an early film of Stanley Kubrick.

The Birds (1963)

Despite being one of Hitchcock’s most popular, I actually think that The Birds is one of his most over-rated.  I think I owe it to myself to give this one another look someday, but right now I feel that it was too heavily based on the gimmick that had to rely on special effects.  Though it is not necessarily the fault of the movie, but the special effects seemed particularly dated and old fashioned.  Worth a watch, but not my favorite by a long shot.

8 1/2 (1963)

Federico Fellini is, by most accounts, a master of cinema.  One, that I have always had a little trouble getting fired up over.  It’s not that I don’t like his films once I’ve seen them, the problem comes in when it comes to motivating myself to see them.  I couldn’t tell you why, but his films consistently get pushed off when they come up on my Netflix Queue or when I see the one or two I have on my shelf.  I shouldn’t feel this way, considering I really loved the moving poetry, and soul baring passion in 8 1/2, yet it still happens.  One very definite reason to watch this film is the man-crushable Marcello Mastroianni, swaggering through as the alter-ego of Fellini himself.  Dealing with all the reservations with women, making movies, childhood, and the future that the director very famously dealt with himself, Mastroianni embodies a certain cool, yet believable character that begs to be watched.  Combined with imagery that leaves the audience wanting more, 8 1/2 is a fantastic film.

Well, that’s it for this time.  Thanks for reading!

For the most part, baseball has faded out of sports news since the New York Yankees won their record 27th World Series; however, with the numerous free agents, there is still some stuff to talk about. In this post we’ll look at some of the top free agents that are looking for a team this offseason.

1. John Lackey (SP)

Wherever Lackey goes he will likely become that team’s ace seeing that the 31 year old starter thrives in big-games and has been dominant since he entered the league. He has 102 career wins and is at his peak. He will be asking for a high amount, so expect the “usual suspects” to try and land Lackey.

2. Matt Holliday (LF)

Holliday is the best outfielder on the market and at 29 years old, he still has a lot left in him. Some like Jason Bay better, but Holliday had a .313 batting average compared to Bay’s .267 and is a year younger. Holliday has Scott Boras as his agent, so expect him to sign a major deal.

3. Jason Bay (LF)

While Holliday is a better all-around player than Bay, Bay has the more power (36 home runs) and is the most dangerous hitter available this offseason. Bay is experienced at playing “under the lights” as he spent the past 1 ½ seasons in Boston. Expect more teams to target Bay than Holliday.

4. Andy Pettitte (SP)

At 37 years of age, Pettitte isn’t looking for a long-term contract, and is expected to return to New York. Pettitte thrives in big-games and is a guy you want to have in your rotation in October. He still has a lot left for his age and should put up similar numbers as last year.

5. Chone Figgins (3B)

While most third basemen are known for their power, Figgins is more of a get-on-base guy. He has been a key player for the Angels and would be good pickup for a team that already has some power-hitters in their lineup.

6. Randy Wolf (SP)

Besides Pettitte, Wolf is the top lefty on the market. Wolf only had 11 wins, but had many quality starts where a relief pitcher picked up the win. Figuring that most teams won’t have a shot at Pettitte, expect many teams to go after Wolf.

7. Rich Harden (SP) Harden is one of the best pitchers in the league when he is healthy, but staying healthy has been an issue for the former Cubs’ star seeing that his last full season was in 2004. Whoever acquires Harden will be taking a chance seeing that he has been injury-prone.

8. Johnny Damon (LF)

Damon is still an above average hitter with good speed but his defense and throwing arm won’t impress anyone. His 24 home runs can be misleading as 17 of those came in hitter-friendly Yankees Stadium.

Posted by Tom

I’m honestly feeling like a productivity powerhouse right now.

Today consisted mainly of Drama rehearsals, both for my graded piece at the start of 2010, but also for a small musical I’m participating in. That made me feel good, because I’ve done a damn lot today. Plus the 5000 words towards my NaNoWriMo novel I’ve done in between acting. Did I not mention that?!

I – to my horror – realised that I need to write 3000 words per DAY in order to complete this, but I figured, if I can do 5000 words in about two hours, then why not dedicate two hours for the rest of the month, each day, and work on the novel. It’ll be done in no time.

Especially because everything is getting a lot more exciting now. Granted everything – and I do mean everything – will change when December comes to edit the novel, but for now I’m happy to say that this is a good first draft. First drafts being one of my many weaknesses.

Today I want to share a short passage I’ve only just written. The main character has been kidnapped by the main antagonist, and is an undisclosed location, trying to deal with the situation and the revelations he has been presented with.

‘I want to save you! I want to free us all! We never had a choice, not once in our lives. They get in early, before we have minds of our own. The Voices infect us, and we can’t resist. You know it’s true. You’ll be running around after them until you die.’

What had started off as rage now seemed to have developed into tears of a madman. The flicker of candle light reflected off the Dark man’s sparkling tears, which wiped away a certain amount of dirt from his unclean face, leaving a thin trail of natural skin.

The emotions of the Dark man seemed to be being washed away by this flood of sudden emotion. He seemed so passionate about his opinion, and as much as Tobias fought a small part of his brain, he agreed with his enemy.

Tobias knew with a very small but very significant part of his brain, that the Dark man was partly right. Tobias had never had a choice, and would never again.

I don’t think I’ll be writing any more tonight. As much as I want to get to 40,000 before I hit the sack, I’m incredibly tired, and have been working hard all day. Surely I’ve earned some sleep.

Today was supposed to be the day I get to 40,000 but I think that if I write an equal amount tomorrow as I did today, I can get ahead before it’s over. I’m on 38,000 now – I think – and so 4000 words should be possible. Tomorrow is a lot less of a cramped day.

I’ll probably post when I hit 45,000, but if not, I’ll see you at 50,000! Wish me luck.

I’m back and I am HOT. Tom can not keep his eyes off of me  even in my bandaged, unshowered, drugged state.

Thursday was really scary. We woke up early and I showered. We had to be at the hospital by 6:30 AM. Tom was sweet, distracting me with jokes and stroking my hair and covering me with kisses in the waiting room. They got me all checked in and into my bed and he came in to cover me with more kisses. The nurses said that they had not seen a man so in love in such a long time. My doc came in. He was sweet. We talked. I told him how scared I was and he did a lot to calm my nerves. They wheeled me into the OR and I chatted with my nurses who were the sweetest nicest nurses ever. The last think I remember is Dr. B turning on his surgical “playlist”- the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac- and I was out. The surgery took 6 hours. I woke up around 3 and dozed off and on for hours. They finally let Tom come into see me around 8 at night. I burst into tears the minute I saw him.

He took me home and had already set everything up for me. Pillows all set up on the bed. My meds and water ready. It was sweet. He carried me to bed and it was the best feeling to be in my own clean bed and pillow and sheets. He said that he would sleep on the floor next to me so that he wouldn’t disturb me but I cried and carried on so he slept next to me so that I could hold his hand all night.

I don’t remember much of Friday. I was mostly in a drug induced haze. T did not leave me for a moment, stroking my hair, rubbing my back, making sure I was OK. He was like a dream come true. Sometimes I would look up at him and he looked like the biggest man alive. Drugs talking I’m sure, but at that moment, he felt like the strongest most loving hero in any story book.

It hurt like the motherfucker. I had a full time pain pump pumping meds into my tummy, plus I was on percocet and valium and it still hurt like the motherfucker. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. I am also a woman who had 2 babies, one weighing 9lbs 2 oz without any drugs, and this, i’m telling you, hurt like the motherfucker. Just saying.

Saturday Iwoke up feeling slightly more human. It was shower day! I was really scared to unwrap everything because I still hadn’t seen the damage. I laid there with my eyes closed while Tom unwrapped me. I was scared to see. The bra came off and I looked at Tom. His eyes were like saucers and all he could say was “Oh Baby. Good Lord Almighty.” He told me to look but I still couldn’t. Then he unwrapped the compression garment around my tummy. The actual bandage over the cut stays on, but everything else came off. He touched me and my skin was tight and smooth and… pretty. I still didn’t look, but he took my hand and ran it over my belly and it felt so… smooth. I couldn’t believe it. My waist was tiny. He said “You looked so beautiful to me before, baby, but there’s no denying that you’ll look beautiful to absolutely everyone now. It’s incredible. You are breathtaking.”

I still couldn’t look. I’m just not ready.

He got into the shower with me and helped me wash off. My eyes were still squeezed shut. There was something that felt so good about being absolutely under someone else’s care. To just close my eyes and feel him wash my hair and rinse it so gingerly and caress my body with soap. I wonder if that’s how a baby feels. It felt nice to be taken care of.

He dried me off, wrapped me back up and got me dressed. I have never loved him more than at that moment.

He had to go to the office for 2 hours and I panicked. I was scared to be alone. I cried after he left and Texas Girl just happened to call and came over. It felt good to see her.

He came back and made us a nest on the living room floor. We snuggled and watched movies while I dozed. At one point I opened my eyes. He snuggled into me and said “Thank you for asking me to take care of you. It means a lot to me that I’m the one you trusted.” I cried and he said, ” We are in this together. I am not going anywhere. I will love you and take care of you and keep you safe. We will get through this together. I am here. I am right here in front of you” I fell back asleep in his arms.

We slept curled up together last night. Today he had to leave for work and I feel anxious. It’s my first day alone. It’s also the first day I feel pretty human. I looked at myself in the mirror. Bandages on. I’m still afraid to see the scars. I look pretty phenomenal, even with the swelling. I think I’m going to go take some drugs now and wait for my Tom to come back.

Eftir að hafa farið í frekar þéttsetna skoðunarferð í nokkra daga og endað svo á skítugu hótelherbergi í Alleppey, þá var sweet að mæta á ströndina í Varkala í þvílíka túristaparadís.

Varkala er allt öðruvísi en aðrir staðir sem við höfum komið til á Indlandi. Svona týpískur sumarfrís-staður, sandur, sól og hvítt fólk í meirihluta…eitthvað sem við höfum ekki séð áður. Það voru nokkrar “vestrænar” fjölskyldur sem er líka mjög óalgeng sjón í þessu stóra landi. Þarna var fólk greynilega komið til þess að slaka á, fara í sólbað og spila skák.

Við gistum á litlu gistiheimili sem ber heitið Baby House sem rekið er af hinum hressa Sham. Hann skírði staðinn Baby House vegna þess að mamma hans hafði gefið honum jörðina og hún hét þessu skemmtilega nafni, Baby. Helga fór á viku yoga námskeið sem haldið var upp á þaki á gistiheimilinu. Það voru því miður engar myndi teknar af herlegheitunum.

Vinir okkar, Tom og Rachel (hver man ekki eftir þeim ), komu til Varkala stuttu seinna og við vorum nágrannar á gistiheimilinu.

Öldurnar við ströndina í Varkala eru víst sterkar og maður fann það um leið og maður steig í þær (nb. að sá sem skrifar hefur eingöngu farið á alvöru strönd 2-3 áður á ævinni og aldrei dýpra en að hnjám)  – Maður fór aðeins út í sjóinn og alltaf þegar maður hélt að allt væri í góðu, þá kom risa stór alda og grípur mann, fleygir manni upp í loftið og dregur mann svo eftir botninum – mjög hressandi

Þegar ég var kominn með leið á því að labba út í sjó, standa eins og kjáni, bíða eftir öldu og láta hana dúndra mér í botninn, þá kenndi hinn veraldrarvani Tom Noel mér Bodysurfing og svo seinna þegar sjórinn var mildari, Bodyboarding.

Body Surfing gengur út á að fara út í sjó í brjóstkassadýpt og bíða eftir stórri öldu – svo þegar hún kemur þá byrjar maður að synda skriðsund á fullu í átt að ströndinni – svo kippir aldan manni með þegar hún er að hvolfast yfir og þá er eins og maður fljúgi eða svífi ofan á öldunni, hátt fyrir ofan fólkið í kring um sig á smá ferð.

Þegar ég var nokkurnveginn búinn að ná Bodysurfing á hreint, þá stakk Tom upp á að við fengjum okkur Bodyboards á leigu, því að sjórinn væri hugsanlega ekki lífshættulegur þann dag. Bodyboarding gengur út á nákvæmlega það sama og Bodysurfing, nema að maður leggst á svona lítið ca 1m langt bretti og beitir svo svipaðri tækni við að bursla áfram þegar aldan kemur – En Hólí sjitt!! Það er alveg rosalegt dæmi. Það er erfiðra að hitta á öldurnar, en þegar maður nær þeim, þá dúndrast maður áfram á ógnarhraða og hendist áfram kannski 50m í hverri öldu. Flýtur áfram eins og fleytt kerling. Geðveikt. Verð að prófa þetta í nauthólsvík.

Maturinn í Varkala er ágætur. Það er mikið af sjávarréttum og maður getur oftast valið sér ferskan fisk, krabba, humar, rækjur eða smokkfisk fyrir utan veitingastaðina og þeir elda síðan það sem maður velur. Þar sem þetta er líka túristaparadís þá er auðvitað auðvelt að fá Espresso, hægt er að surfa á netinu á sumum kaffihúsana osfrv.

Bíður þolinmóð eftir lestinni

Bíður þolinmóður eftir lestinni í aðeins meira töff pósu en Helga

Varkala ströndin er gull falleg. Hún er þekkt fyrir það að þetta er eina klettabeltið í Kerala sem snýr út að arabíska hafinu.

Það hafði hrunið undan gangstéttinni 2 mánuðum áður í mikilli rigningu.

Yndislega hreina og sæta gistiheimilið okkar: Baby House.

Helga sópar og passar að herbergið haldist hreint.

Helga hlær af því að það er svo gaman að skoða bloggið okkar

Svona var eiginlega hver einasti morgun, borða morgunmat með Tom og Rachel

Hvítt te – besta te sem maður fær

Eðlan borðaði með okkur morgunmat – hún hafði samt ekki mikla list, vildi aðallega skoða blaðið.

Plataður út í lífshættulegt áhugamál: Bodyboarding

Sjórinn leit stilltur út þennan dag

Róa róa róa… aldan alveg að grípa

Og svo á þvílíkri siglingu í átt að ströndinni

Þetta eru kellingarnar sem sjá um að halda við ströndinni – tína upp rusl og raka sandinn.

Stórmeistararnir einbeita sér – Þjónarnir eru oft mjög spenntir fyrir því að fá að spila við mann skák. Í Varkala keppti Addi við tæplega 10 þjóna og vann alla nema einn. Þetta er sterkasti skákspilarinn, Zures (eða Sures), þeir tóku 3 leiki og Addi vann 2/3 – mikill sigur fyrir Ísland.

Þetta Monopoly fór í þvílíkt drama á tímabili þegar reglurnar urðu óskýrar, en endaði samt ágætlega

Helga og Rachel völdu sér þennan disk af tíkrisrækjum…nammnamm!

Kokkurinn í eldhúsinu, eitthvað að undirbúa. Spjótin fara ofaní gat á tandoori ofninum. Gatið er samsagt undir “vok-pönnunni”.

Við örkum af stað í smá búðarráb – markmiðið er að finna buxur, sólarvörn, klósettpappír og sitthvað fleira.

Það eru endalaust af svona búðum víðsvegar um Indland. Allar eins en engin eins.

Addi endaði á að láta Mr. Taylor sníða á sig tvær stuttar buxur, handvaldi efni í þær.

Indversku karlmennirnir hittast stundum á ströndinni, spjalla saman og góna á búbbur. Mjög pirrandi en Þykir samt mjög eðlilegt.

Amma store

Gullmoli úr matseðli – sá sem nær að þýða þetta fær verðlaun

Við lentum í smá rigningarsudda – ekkert alvarlegt, en alveg grenjandi

Eitt kvöldið fórum við á ótrúlega tónleika – hljómsveit frá Alleppey sem var að spila á veitingastaðnum Rose Garden. Þeim gekk mjög erfiðlega að stilla gítarinn eins og heyrist á þessu videoi og náðu ekki að fullkomna það því að í miðjum tónleikum ruddist löggulið á fullu inn á staðinn og handtók alla starfsmenn staðarins fyrir að selja áfengi án leyfis. Eftir stóðu allir matargestirnir og hljómsveitin og fylgdust með lögreglunni fara í gegnum alla pappíra og allt á staðnum. Þegar við fórum frá Varkala var managerinn á staðnum víst ennþá í fangelsi…

If you’re a Goshdarn fanatic, or you just stalk me whilst I go about my daily business, then you will know that Sam of Goshdarn has a favourite colour that is green. That’s why the Gosh in Goshdarn is green, and also why his name comes first. My favourite colour, on the other hand is red, and explains why the Darn is red, and why I come second in the typical naming procedure.

However, everything may change as of now.

I woke up this morning, happy and content. My cousins were staying, and we had been playing a little Assassin’s Creed II – which is awesome, FYI – and after they had gone to bed, I had played some Left 4 Dead 2 – another fantastic game. Both of these beautiful games were being played on my equally beautiful XBOX 360, and had been recently purchased to add to the brilliance of the weekend to come.

However, when I went to turn on the XBOX this morning, I was horrified – I actually screamed – to see that the little light on the right hand bottom corner of the Ring of Light was flashing red. Never a good sign. To accompany that, the console was telling me I had an error E37, and should contact Microsoft. Tossers.

Turns out I have to send it off for repairs, which could cost me upwards of £60, because I’m not bloody insured.

I’m not best pleased. Seriously.

If the console isn’t returned in full working order by Christmas, then I’m going to crack some skulls. I’m still screaming to myself now. Maybe I should just buy a new one. I have to money, and it would make everything much quicker. Maybe an Elite, with 120GB hard drive.

What do you think?

At least this gives me a good incentive to finish NaNoWriMo with minimal distractions…

I was, perhaps, a little over-eager when I decided that Danzibar had to be hundreds of vnums large. Perhaps. But it is, and it’s taking a lot of work to come together. Still, it’s beautiful, and I can’t imagine it any other way. Illindir’s largest city is just that.

Next Tuesday (well, technically it will be Wednesday) at 2am, Tom and I are going to head out to Conway to spend Thanksgiving with Dani while Gino is off visiting relatives. It will be a chance to relax with friends…and get Fwi all pieced together. It feels like a break, though, because Fwi is so much smaller than Danzibar. After those two are placed neatly into the game, we’ll be building following the Crescent Road around the sea until the whole of the known world is finished.

Most of the time with Dani, though, will be spent eating a Thanksgiving dinner of Asian cuisine and indulging in copious amounts of anime. I cannot wait for the sweet and sour chicken.

In the spirit of the holiday, I give thanks for:

1) Friends, past and present. I am who I am today because of their advice, their understanding, their compassion, and their humor.

2) Illindir. It really is a terrific project, and if it brings as much joy to even one player as it has to me, I will consider it a success.

3) Getting published. It absolutely blew my mind that someone would want to publish something I wrote, even if the whole thing is not-for-profit, and I still have trouble believing they want to publish an article by me REGULARLY.

4) God/s. Believe or don’t, call it/them what you will, but I have never felt completely alone or abandoned, and somehow I always seem to pull through.

5) Tom. He’s shown me that no matter how badly I’ve been hurt, people are still worth taking a risk on. Because sometimes it pays off.

6) My sister. She reminds me of my past, and the good things that were in it. It’s so easy to forget sometimes.

7) Sonya, for showing me how I could be more than myself. She is such an inspiration.

I am, above all, thankful for my life. Mistakes and all. I’ve learned so much, have so much more left to learn, and am looking forward to what another year brings. Hopefully I’ll be a little wiser, a little less prone to anger, and more willing to make compromises than be right.

[It is indeed important to control the political influence of your opponents. Notice how the game here is to convince media and congress that your side is correct - and NOT to prove or disprove any scientific topic. Completely unbelievable]

From: Tom Wigley To: Michael Oppenheimer Subject: Re: letter to Senate Date: Wed, 23 Jul 2003 20:13:12 -0600 Cc: Jonathan Overpeck , “Michael E. Mann” , Caspar M Ammann , Raymond Bradley , Keith Briffa , Tom Crowley , Malcolm Hughes , Phil Jones , Tim Osborn , Kevin Trenberth , Ben Santer , Steve Schneider

Folks,

Here are some thoughts about the Soon issue, partly arising from talking to Ben.

What is worrying is the way this BS paper has been hyped by various groups. The publicity has meant that the work has entered the conciousness of people in Congress, and is given prominence in some publications emanating from that sector. The work appears to have the imprimateur of Harvard, which gives it added credibility. So, what can we as a community do about this? My concerns are two-fold, and I think these echo all of our concerns. The first is the fact that the papers are simply bad science and the conclusions are incorrect. The second is that the work is being used quite openly for political purposes.

As scientists, even though we are aware of the second issue, we need to concentrate on exposing the scientific flaws. We also need to do this in as authoritative a way as possible. I do not think it is enough to speak as individuals or even as a group of recognized experts. Even as a group, we will not be seen as having the ‘power’ of the Harvard stamp of approval. What I think is necessary is to have the expressed support of both AGU and AMS. It would also be useful to have Harvard disassociate themselves from the work. Most importantly, however, we need the NAS to come into the picture. With these 4 institutions, together with us (and others) as experts, pointing out clearly that the work is scientific rubbish, we can certainly win this battle.

I suggest that we try to get NAS to set up a committee to (best option) assess the science in the two BS papers, or (less good, but still potentially very useful) assess the general issue of the paleo record for global- or hemispheric-scale temperature changes over the past 1000 years. The second option seems more likely to be acceptable to NAS. This is arguably an issue of similar importance to the issue of climate sensitivity uncertainties which NAS reviewed earlier this year (report still in preparation).

I am not sure how to fold AGU and AMS into this — ideas are welcome. Similarly, perhaps some of you know some influential Harvard types better than I do and can make some suggestions here. The only way to counter this crap is to use the biggest guns we can muster. The Administration and Congress still seem to respect the NAS (even above IPCC) as a final authority, so I think we should actively pursue this path.

Best wishes, Tom.

mai crescut putin!

out for a walk

Hallo Menschen,

das Leben hat mich wieder, alle Klausuren sind geschrieben, der Finale Report abgegeben, und Urlaub geplant. Ich werde ganz traditionell wie viele Amerikaner nach Norden fahren, und mit einem Gewehr Rehböcke ernten gehn.  Oder so.  Wir schaun mal, ich versuche mich die Tage mal zu melden, aber Wildnis ist ja ungleich Internet. Ich werde mich spätestens nach Thanksgiving melden, sofern der Truthan uns nicht alle platzen lässt.

Bis dahin GoblGobl

TOM

The Heart of Saturday Night is the second studio album by singer and songwriter Tom Waits, released in 1974 on Asylum Records. In 2003, the album was ranked number 339 on Rolling Stone magazine’s list of the 500 greatest albums of all time, his highest placing. The album cover is based on In the Wee Small Hours by Frank Sinatra.[12] Cal Schenkel was the art director and the cover art was by Lyn Lascaro aka Napolean.

Track Listing

Side one

1. “New Coat of Paint”
2. “San Diego Serenade”
3. “Semi Suite”
4. “Shiver Me Timbers”
5. “Diamonds on My Windshield”
6. “(Looking for) The Heart of Saturday Night”

Side two

1. “Fumblin’ with the Blues”
2. “Please Call Me, Baby”
3. “Depot, Depot”
4. “Drunk on the Moon”
5. “The Ghosts of Saturday Night (After Hours at Napoleone’s Pizza House)”

Genre: folk, jazz, blues

More @ Wikipedia

Closing Time is the debut album of Tom Waits, released in 1973 on Asylum Records, produced and arranged by former Lovin’ Spoonful member Jerry Yester.

Tracks

Side One

1. “Ol’ ‘55″
2. “I Hope That I Don’t Fall in Love with You”
3. “Virginia Avenue”
4. “Old Shoes (& Picture Postcards)”
5. “Midnight Lullaby”
6. “Martha”

Side Two

1. “Rosie”
2. “Lonely”
3. “Ice Cream Man”
4. “Little Trip to Heaven (On the Wings of Your Love)”
5. “Grapefruit Moon”
6. “Closing Time” (instrumental)

Genre: Rock, Folk

More @ Wikipedia

Tonight’s NFL matchup, featuring the Carolina Panthers and the Miami Dolphins, is not only about tonight as each team’s postseason hopes could all but vanish with a loss. Both teams share some odd similarities as they both: won their respective division titles last year, started the 2009 season 0-3, and have won 4 of their last 6 to improve to 4-5. The Carolina Panthers are one game behind Atlanta, Green Bay, New York (Giants), and Philadelphia in the NFC Wild-Card race while the Miami Dolphins are tied for 10^th in the AFC conference and need a win to avoid falling out of the playoff picture. Both teams are also missing key players due to injury. The Dolphins’ starting running back, Ronnie Brown, will miss the rest of the regular season with a foot injury while the Panthers’ lost their All-Pro offensive tackle, Jordan Gross, due to a broken ankle. Both losses will affect the rushing attack of both teams, but Miami’s offense will be affected most as Brown, who has 8 rushing TDs in 9 games this season, usually runs the wildcat offense for the Dolphins . The quarterbacks of the two teams aren’t going to put up big numbers and are basically expected to complement the running game. Jake Delhomme has thrown 3 TDs and no interceptions over the past 3 weeks while Chad Henne almost gave away last week’s game against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers by throwing an interception with less than two minutes left in the game (Miami got the ball back and three plays later were in position to kick the game-winning field goal). Both teams average 156 rushing yards per game and it will be interesting to see if Miami’s tough run defense (97.4 yds/game) will hold up against “Double Trouble” (i.e. DeAngelo Williams and Johnathan Stewart).

Interesting things to keep an eye on:

Running attacks of both teams – Miami may not use the wildcat formation as often since Brown is out (Ricky Williams will start) while the Panthers’ best offensive lineman is out.

Panthers’ pass defense – Ranks fourth in the NFL (186.4 yds/game) and has 8 interceptions in the past three games

Miami’s rush defense – Ranks seventh in the NFL (97.6 yds/game)

Panthers Receiver Steve Smith – Smith caught 2 TDs last week against the Falcons to raise his season total to 3.

Posted by Tom

Harriet called me right as I got out of class.  She called to let me know what’s up with her new painting.  It’s basically going to portray a rebellion and her main inspiration is the Untitled album by blink-182.  Just by talking about it I decided to go home and put it on immediately.  The production values on that record are so big and the songwriting is pretty much flawless.  When it first dropped in 2003 it was a huge inspiration to my life and even today that stands true.  And I guess the point I’m trying to make with this blog is that everyone has something in their life that inspires them… whether it’s a movie, a book, a friend, a song– there’s always SOMETHING that can make a person tick.  One of those things for me is blink-182.  They set me on the path that I follow today and I’ll never forget it.  I may find tons of new bands and get addicted to plenty of them, but you can never forget your roots.  You can never forget what made you who you are.

I write and play music endlessly because blink-182 gave me a voice.  I believe that I can achieve anything I want to and shape the world to my liking because Tom’s words empower me.  I feel that I can be a successful artist, music producer, and business entrepaneur because Mark is able to do it too.

Maybe it’s stupid of me to be so heavily influenced by a band. But at least I’m influenced by something.  Blink is just a firestarter for my passion– the celestial fire inside me is all innate and a blessing from God I nurture in my own way.  And with the way my life is going and the decisions I’ve been making as of late– that vision for the future is well on its way.  The blisters on my hand are telling me so.

I’m done trying to let the world around me figure itself out.  I’m making the decisions now.

Yeah, I don’t know who they are. But everything with Andrew Bird is fine to me So this is straight copied from pitchfork.

The Preservation Hall is a 48-year-old French Quarter mainstay known for its deep New Orleans jazz legacy. In honor of the venue and its music outreach program, an impressive group of artists recorded tracks with the Preservation Hall Jazz Band for a benefit album called Preservation (what an original title!), due February 16 via RED.

Performers on the record include Tom Waits (who does a version of the Mardi Gras song “Tootie Ma Is a Big Fine Thing”), Andrew Bird, Jim James of My Morning Jacket, Pete Seeger, Dr. John, Steve Earle, Blind Boys of Alabama, Merle Haggard, Richie Havens, Jason Isbell, and more.

This entry is late. It was due on Sunday, and annoyingly, I have barely had time for NaNoWriMo, let alone the blog that runs through my veins.

I write this entry on a tiring Wednesday night, but you will not be seeing it until tomorrow morning, around eleven o’clock, I think. I’m going to delay the publishing of this entry. You may accuse me of being absurd, and you may be confused as to why I would shame myself for writing it late only to then delay it further.

Don’t question me! I will wait a little while so that the previous post – by the marvel Internet tycoon that is Harry Slater – has a little air of its own.

Anyway, onto the topic of this entry, which, as you have probably guessed, is NaNoWriMo.

As I write this, I have just completed the 30,000 wordcount milestone. Actually, it was only four days since I was at the now distant 20,000 word mark. I’ve done a lot this week, in order to catch up with what little I accomplished during the pain of Week 2. It really was terrible. Little inspiration, little faith, little enthusiasm. But I’m back to normal now. Don’t worry, apparently Week 2 is like that for everybody.

I would now like to share an extract with you. This is from what I have written fairly recently. The main character – Tobias – has just met a young woman – Danielle – who was the victim of a stabbing from the antagonist of the story, referred to only as the Dark.

Tobias slumped back into his chair, exhausted, despite not being the one that was being interrogated. It annoyed him that nobody could give him a simple straight answer to his questions, because although he had accepted that the Voices were not going to divulge any information unless it was absolutely necessary, he had been hoping that there was somebody – somebody human – that could. Apparently not.

Tobias was angry. Angry with the Voices, for not telling him the truth, angry with Danielle, for not telling him the truth, and angry with his parents, for not telling him the truth. Nobody seemed to think of a nine-year-old as a real person. Just another kid that will sooner or later get in the way.

Tobias suddenly remembered his parents. No doubt they’d be looking for him at the moment. It had probably been about half an hour since he had snuck away from them, following the Voices to find potentially the most unhelpful living person on the planet. Of all the Gifted people he could run into, what would be the odds that Tobias would be stuck with the one that knew as little about the whole thing as he did? It didn’t seem very likely, and yet it had happened.

Everything in the story is very very rough at the moment, and I’m already thinking of ways to change it dramatically when all is said and done. They say not to go back and change anything until it is all done, and I’m trying hard not to, so as not to damage my wordcount, but it can’t stop me from planning ahead.

Another update will be with you on Sunday … hopefully. All is going well, and so Week 3 should be easier than Week 2, even though we’re already halfway through it!

PS. Bloody hell – halfway through Week 3! A week and a half left. It’s getting close.