program manager, lawyer, engineer, futurist

7 posts categorized "Film"



Today's writing warm-up

10/15/2011

Ah, a Saturday writing marathon, probably 4 hours. So, this entry is really just a warm-up. Gives you, the reader (if you even exist at all), an opportunity to see behind the curtain. I am at Panera, a good writing spot with free soda refills and decaf coffee that isn't bad.

In front of me is a young couple with a child. The child looks at me as if I am some sort of freak of nature, but all small children look at me this way so it is far from unusual.

Behind them is a pair of buddies, probably out to get the newest game from GameStop. How they can stand the wait to go home, strip off the wrapping, and wreck havoc, I don't understand. 

And there are more and more and more.

In my egotistical way I thought to myself before writing, "You all have no idea that this increadibly handsome man in the green shirt is penning the next great American movie. Timeless as Casablaca, and as funny as... Um.... Something really funny." Actually, I probably won't get to the feature d' automne, I really want to finish this short. So, I guess I'd better get to it...

Comments (0)


First Line Project - From Cat's Eye (96)

10/04/2011

(This project takes famous first lines and I freewrite the beginning of a story from there for 15 minutes.)

 

"Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. But not really because the space we experience has 3 dimensions; so, I guess what I am trying to say is that time is not a line, but a dimension like 1/3 of space. So rather than 4 dimensions, time being one of them, Space/Time maybe is 4/3." He was getting excited.

"Ok, Pete," Will shook his head.

"Wait! I am just beginning to explain -"

"Pete, I really need to -"

"So, that is obviously crazy right? That there are actually 4/4 dimensions in Space/Time. So, now get this! Space itself then is just 3/4. Just 3/4, man!"

"Pete. Stop. Thanks, but I just needed to know if I could get my keys back?"

"Oh, yah. Here." Pete dug around in his oversized pockets and fished out a set of two keys, tossing them to Will. "And another thing -"

Will caught the keys, almost dropping themin fatigue, and inturrupted, "Pete! I really need to go."

Pete stopped, it was almost as if tears were coming. He was just like the golden retreiver who hasn't seen his human for 2 days. "Oh. Ok. Sorry."

Will was about to say something, appologize for being abrupt. But Pete closed the door.

"Damn, now I have to make this up to him tomorrow," Will thought. He shuffled down the hall to his own door. The door opened with the reacquired keys and Will pushed against the weight of the door and the mail strewn across the entrance. Dropping his bag, he collapsed onto the couch. "Another day, another daughter," he muttered.

 

Comments (0)


First Line Project - From Orlando (97)

10/03/2011

(This project takes famous first lines and I freewrite the beginning of a story from there for 15 minutes.)

 

He - for there could be no doubt of his sex, though the fashion of the time did something to disguise it - was in the act of slicing at the head of a Moor which swung from the rafters. It was an unspeakable act of anger as the Moor's body had began to turn anyway in the damp climate. Maggots fell from long-since coagulated wounds with each blow.

 

She - much more androgenous than he in plain work clothes of her status with her hair cropped short - stood by the horses. She had seen him exact futile vengence before.

 

It lasted several minutes and the Moor was indistinguishable when he was finished. He looked down at what his violence had done and dropped his sword.  "Damn," he muttered, more in sorrow than in defeat.

 

Wanting to explain that they needed to go, she found her mouth dry. She took a pull from a wine skin, and placed it back in her saddlebag. She thought again about saying something, but he turned and looked at her before she could open her mouth. 

 

"Yes. I know," he said picking up his sword. He walked towards the horses and whipped the gore from the sword on his scarf.

 

They mounted their horses and turned from this past and into the heat. 

 

They stayed silent as the sun steamed the moisture from the banana trees until the cooling sea air was almost a relief. 

 

Comments (0)


First Line Project - From Changing Places (98)

09/30/2011

(This project takes famous first lines and I freewrite the beginning of a story from there for 15 minutes.)

 

High, high above the North Pole, on the first day of 1969, two professors of English Literature approached each other at a combined velocity of 1200 miles per hour. Of course this sounds improbable without the actual the point of reference - by that I mean the referred to North Pole, was actually the Great North Pole of Magnetus Refrideratous (yes, really just a refrigerator magnet), and by the referred to miles per hour, was actually in ant miles, not human miles. Oddly enough human hours and ant hours are rather similar in objective duration - a human hour lasting 1.0641 ant hours. How the ants derived this time period was relatively unknown as the originator, an ant by the name of Phillip Marlowe (no relation), of the period was eaten long ago by a praying mantis. The documentation and notes of Phillip were lost very shortly there after when a 7 year old human male filled Phillip's dirt bungalow with water to flush out the nearby neighbors.

In any case, there were these professors who walked towards each other, high above a small band of pilgrims to the Great North Pole of Magnetus Refrideratous. This was rather remarkable as the Great North Pole of Magnetus Refrideratous was actually located in the kitchenette of the math department of a rather large and rather unknown community college in Arkansas. Among the pilgrims were Charlie, Wally, and Billy - a young band of ant anarchists who were along for the pilgrimage to 'upset the status quo' and 'stick it to the queen (ant)'. The other pilgrims were not thrilled by their company, but tolerated them because ants, for the most part, go along with the whatever other ants are up to.

 

 

Comments (0)


First Line Project - From Wide Sargasso Sea (99)

09/29/2011

(This project takes famous first lines and I freewrite the beginning of a story from there for 15 minutes.)

 

"They say when trouble comes close ranks and so the white people did," the paper began. I set it down on the table and looked at him, questioningly. I stayed quiet, not staring him down, but wondering where this would go.

We sat like that for a good while. Neither saying a word. Ok, so this was how it was going to be.

"You see the problem here?" I asked. I knew where this was going to lead, but it was a red herring.

"It isn't a problem, it is the truth." he said, starting to tremble, so sure of his assertion.

"Really? I don't see how this is a matter of truth."

"That - that is a problem."

"The problem is -" I began.

"That you are just like the rest of them," he interrupted.

"While that may be," I stood suddenly, "is that your sentance reads very confusing."

"What?"

I turned to the door and opened it. "No punctuation, funky grammer, I had to read it 3 times." He was jeally getting steamed now. I glanced back. "And then  rememeber where I had seen it before. A book, came out quite a while ago. Bill, you stole that sentance." I walked out of the room.

 

It wasn't actually a big deal, but the idealism of youth needs to have a few chinks in the armor before they leave this place. What Bill needed to learn is how ideas get destroyed when there is a lack of integrity. That is, unless you are a politician.

I made my way to Renny's Landing. One of the nice things about not being tenured, well maybe the only nice thing, is nobody frowns on frequenting the spots where students go.

Renny's Landing was a great bar, had descent food, and had one of the cutest bartenders in Oregon. It had an outdoor patio and two levels. Most of the nearby frat kids didn't come here - I don't know why. Those that did stayed downstairs. 

I went upstairs, not only because that was where the bartender with that great face pulled the taps.

 

I sidled up to the bar. I do, by the way, love that turn of phrase. Is there anything else you can sidle up to and not look out of place or even be arrested? I doubt it. And the doors swung open and she stood there. Maybe I was staring, but she seemed startled by my intensity.

"Want anything?" she practically sung. If I didn't know better I'd think she didn't know who I was.

"The usual," I smiled - so suave.

"And that is?" Oh, she was such a tease.

"Ha! As if you didn't know. A Guiness."

She smirked and began the pour. I figured she must be having an off day.

 

Comments (0)


First Line Project - From Red Badge of Courage (100)

09/27/2011

(This project takes famous first lines and I freewrite the beginning of a story from there for 15 minutes.)

 

The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting.The sun had just risen, and while the nip in the air was gone, the chill in the bones remained. I sat looking over the sea of people. Some looked like they could go into battle any minute - the fresh recurits - and some looked like they were still more than half asleep. The latter were either vetrans of this long war or stupid, many both. While the battles had raged on successfully for so many years over the King of Nittincoomp and the Prince of Fransworth's argument on the best material to make a dog'd food dish out of, there were few vetrans who remained ready to fight for the side of procelin, the side of right, who had more than a glimmer of a brain. It is just rather difficult to put your life on the line for an issue as this, it is understood. Even our great Prince understands and has said so many times. So, the people who came down t this hillside were either naive children seeking the meger fame that comes with victory of porcelin over plastic, vetrans who were idiots, or that rare breed of vetran who just didn't have any better idea of what to do in mind.

The call to arms sounded at 09:00. It sounded a bit weak on this day, perhaps the bugler himself was moving along the child to veteran continuum. I looked in my bowl to find the remains of my breakfast, a few more mouthfulls of the saffron scented gruel. "Damn," I thought. "If the Lutenient catches me eating after call again, I'll be sent to the front again." I sighed and droped my bowl, hopping that the damn dogs didn't eat it before I had a chance to get back. I fastened my top button of my purple flack jacket, dawned my gun, and slumped down the hill with the rest of my compatriates.

We formed a circle around the Major, standing on a chair with the Lutenent beside him. "Shrimpo thinks he is Henry the V and this is Maggie's Court," Willis mumbled beside me.

"Agincourt," I corrected.

"What?"

"Agincourt."

"No, I believe it was the battle of Maggie's Court," Willis insisted.

I sighed again. Willis was one of the stupid ones. But I was surprised that his analogy came as close as it did.

 

Comments (0)


Canon 60D Specs Finally Out!

08/27/2010

I am so happy that it is finally announced - the Canon 60D. I spent many, many hours over the past few months trying to decide between the 5d Mark ii, 7d, and the T2i. Cost is always an issue, and so I think the 5d is just out. It is totally badass, but just a little too costly. 

Then the choice came down to the 7d or the T2i. After a lot of reading it looks like the T2i was the way to go. Same sensor, same image quality. What it lacked was the rugged body of the 7d and fine tuning the iso. But, it is half the cost.

Now comes the 60D! Priced between the T2i and the 7d, it has a more rugged body than the T2i and variable iso. Honestly, I don't see much of a difference between the 7d and the 60d, making the 60d the absolute way to go - and then next camera that will get my money.

Comments (0)