Monday, June 28, 2004
To sum up: ultimately, Will, my argument stands. Irrespective of the film's content, and any perceived symbolism or subtext one may cite in defence of its artistic merits, it is nevertheless entitled 'The Last Samurai', with Tom Cruise having been assigned the starring role; this correspondingly places undue emphasis upon the importance of his character in the greater context of the film's historical setting, and is conducive to misleading publicity on the part of the film's producers. Traditionally, when dealing with a film wherein the title is eponymous, or denotes a central role within the story who is not otherwise referred to in that context (e.g. The Quiet American, Last Man Standing, The Man With No Name), we subconsciously assign said monicker on the basis of an implied visual association: namely, that of the film's title with whoever appears most prominent in any accompanying publicity campaign - irrespective of the chosen format. As Maddox, himself, states: "[Tom Cruise's] starring role in 'The Last Samurai' implies that the last surviving samurai in Japan is an American"; that is to say, it is the implication of the film's burgeoning publicity, with Tom Cruise cast firmly and steadfastly in the limelight, that is altogether so reprehensible.
I'll concede that I was possibly utilising too broad a brush in my condemnatory remarks appertaining to 'Hollywood', as an institution, by or in itself: it stands that 'publicity campaigns', in such a vein as the aforesaid, may well constitute a necessary evil these days; wherein a film's success is not so much determined on the basis of artistic merit, but by the projected 'star power' of A and B-List celebrities cited in its credits. The underlying concept, embryonic in the film's development, could perhaps have been entirely 'honourable'; however, the American film industry, much like any other, is subject to inexhaustible quantities of red tape, with the largest budgets being awarded conditionally on the assumption that a promising idea/dashing hero/plethora of flashy special effects, in conjunction with the requisite subsidy, will be sufficiently lucrative to justify such expense. Tom Cruise is duly snatched up, anticipating hype levels befitting a star of his undeniable prowess: hype which, given the prospective financial rewards, those in authority are more than happy to afford him. Cue misleading publicity, and ensuing criticism.
Ultimately, one can speculate indefinitely as to the exact cause of this misdemeanour, but the premise is nonetheless flagrantly deceitful. An intelligent minority will be prompted to perform some cursory background research into 'The Last Samurai'; probing beneath the surface in order to ascertain the ambiguous meaning of the film's title, with its apparent (and entirely plausible) symbolic connotations. However, an ignorant majority, not knowing who in the heck this 'Takamori' fellow is (albeit not necessarily through any fault of their own), and accepting all which transpires at face value, will be accordingly misled. You are undoubtedly correct in your assessment of the truth underpinning the lie, and I appreciate your correcting me on several key points regarding content (I need to witness it for myself); however, the principle stands, and I'm certain that the overwhelming majority of those plied with the query: "Who was the Last Samurai?" will automatically and instinctively answer, "Tom Cruise".
And so, I depart forthwith to a murky realm of questionable substance - my mind. In the meantime, you are duly prompted to ruminate upon this, most perplexing of dilemmas:
OnlineHost: Sheila41428 has entered the room.
d00d903: hi there sheila! 17/m/tx wanna cyber?
Sheila41428: sure
d00d903: asl
Sheila41428: 48/f/tx
d00d903: the hell? mom?
Sheila41428: OH JESUS FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!
OnlineHost: Sheila41328 has left the room.
Rough.
I'll concede that I was possibly utilising too broad a brush in my condemnatory remarks appertaining to 'Hollywood', as an institution, by or in itself: it stands that 'publicity campaigns', in such a vein as the aforesaid, may well constitute a necessary evil these days; wherein a film's success is not so much determined on the basis of artistic merit, but by the projected 'star power' of A and B-List celebrities cited in its credits. The underlying concept, embryonic in the film's development, could perhaps have been entirely 'honourable'; however, the American film industry, much like any other, is subject to inexhaustible quantities of red tape, with the largest budgets being awarded conditionally on the assumption that a promising idea/dashing hero/plethora of flashy special effects, in conjunction with the requisite subsidy, will be sufficiently lucrative to justify such expense. Tom Cruise is duly snatched up, anticipating hype levels befitting a star of his undeniable prowess: hype which, given the prospective financial rewards, those in authority are more than happy to afford him. Cue misleading publicity, and ensuing criticism.
Ultimately, one can speculate indefinitely as to the exact cause of this misdemeanour, but the premise is nonetheless flagrantly deceitful. An intelligent minority will be prompted to perform some cursory background research into 'The Last Samurai'; probing beneath the surface in order to ascertain the ambiguous meaning of the film's title, with its apparent (and entirely plausible) symbolic connotations. However, an ignorant majority, not knowing who in the heck this 'Takamori' fellow is (albeit not necessarily through any fault of their own), and accepting all which transpires at face value, will be accordingly misled. You are undoubtedly correct in your assessment of the truth underpinning the lie, and I appreciate your correcting me on several key points regarding content (I need to witness it for myself); however, the principle stands, and I'm certain that the overwhelming majority of those plied with the query: "Who was the Last Samurai?" will automatically and instinctively answer, "Tom Cruise".
And so, I depart forthwith to a murky realm of questionable substance - my mind. In the meantime, you are duly prompted to ruminate upon this, most perplexing of dilemmas:
OnlineHost: Sheila41428 has entered the room.
d00d903: hi there sheila! 17/m/tx wanna cyber?
Sheila41428: sure
d00d903: asl
Sheila41428: 48/f/tx
d00d903: the hell? mom?
Sheila41428: OH JESUS FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!
OnlineHost: Sheila41328 has left the room.
Rough.
Sunday, June 27, 2004
Quote of the Day:
Profesh - Funkin.blogspot.com (Light travels faster then sound; that's why people seem bright until you hear them.) says:
so long as you remember to don your bio-suit, it's no concern of mine
Profesh - Funkin.blogspot.com (Light travels faster then sound; that's why people seem bright until you hear them.) says:
if anything, it's a worthy excuse to be clad from head to toe in latex
beautiful says:
mental picture not appreciated ryan
Profesh - Funkin.blogspot.com (Light travels faster then sound; that's why people seem bright until you hear them.) says:
I can see how Andy and latex might disagree ;)
Profesh - Funkin.blogspot.com (Light travels faster then sound; that's why people seem bright until you hear them.) says:
ugh... for want of an alternative, that might just be my quote of the day
...and it was. Sorry, guys.
Profesh - Funkin.blogspot.com (Light travels faster then sound; that's why people seem bright until you hear them.) says:
so long as you remember to don your bio-suit, it's no concern of mine
Profesh - Funkin.blogspot.com (Light travels faster then sound; that's why people seem bright until you hear them.) says:
if anything, it's a worthy excuse to be clad from head to toe in latex
beautiful says:
mental picture not appreciated ryan
Profesh - Funkin.blogspot.com (Light travels faster then sound; that's why people seem bright until you hear them.) says:
I can see how Andy and latex might disagree ;)
Profesh - Funkin.blogspot.com (Light travels faster then sound; that's why people seem bright until you hear them.) says:
ugh... for want of an alternative, that might just be my quote of the day
...and it was. Sorry, guys.
Saturday, June 26, 2004
Quote of Forever:
"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pr0n surfed, weak and weary, over many a strange and spurious site of 'Hot XXX Galore'; while I clicked my fav'rite bookmark, suddenly there came a warning, and my heart was filled with mourning, mourning for my dear amour; " 'Tis not possible!", I muttered, "Give me back my free hardcore!" ... quoth the server, 404."
"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pr0n surfed, weak and weary, over many a strange and spurious site of 'Hot XXX Galore'; while I clicked my fav'rite bookmark, suddenly there came a warning, and my heart was filled with mourning, mourning for my dear amour; " 'Tis not possible!", I muttered, "Give me back my free hardcore!" ... quoth the server, 404."
Thursday, June 24, 2004
In response to Will's argument regarding the validity of Maddox's critique, with respect to recent Hollywood epic The Last Samurai:
Of course, it is perfectly feasible that an American might successfully train in the art of the samurai; however, this remains entirely separate to the point. In his critique of the film's merits, Maddox does not venture to dispute the hypothetical notion of an American as a samurai warrior: I, for one, happen to know of a British-born samurai, living right here in England; this is irrelevant. Rather, he serves to illuminate yet one more instance in which Hollywood can be perceived as choosing to hi-jack another country's cultural heritage, selectively re-interpreting the past with the sole purpose in mind of glorifying America's role in the historical trials and tribulations of its worldly counterparts, as opposed to remaining true to the actual, factual premise (from which this film purports to have taken its inspiration) by casting an oriental actor as Saigô Takamori - the original, Japanese 'last samurai' whose life is (or rather, isn't) depicted in the film.
http://www.emory.edu/HISTORY/RAVINA/lastsamurai.html
A clear indication that the actual last surviving samurai in Japan was (unsurprisingly) Japanese - and not, as the film would have us believe, American. What makes this movie so utterly condescending is that - as with the case of U-571 *spit* - it cites, as its ostensible 'inspiration', a singular episode in Japanese history: the Enigma machine was only stolen once; similarly, there could only logically exist one 'last samurai', and therefore, I find the film's very pretext to be wholly and principally objectionable, regardless of its 'fictional' status. Had they chosen instead to abbreviate the title to a comparably more modest 'The Samurai', or even 'An American Samurai', (establishing a potentially lucrative franchise via television spin-offs and straight-to-video sequels in the vein of 'An American Samurai in Tokyo', 'The Samurai Kid', etc. etc. ad nauseam) then perhaps it would not seem quite such patronising doggerel; nevertheless, it seems that Hollywood would much prefer a fraudulent edification of America's historical role over adherence to the basic facts: no doubt, this film will once again succeed fantastically in misinforming an American public proportionally as ignorant as it is impressionable. Besides which, his little comic strip illustrating the flagrant hypocrisy of the film's ostensible 'hero' is dead on.
And Todd, you have to accept this sort of thing with something more than a grain of salt. 'Dead Ringers' flagrantly exaggerates the defects of known political figures in order to emphasise their shortcomings, as a satirical device; to whit, Maddox utilises this same technique in his critiques to achieve effect. His parodies are very much a hit-and-miss affair (one must keep in mind that this is entertainment, first and foremost); nevertheless, my experience is certainly one of a disproportionately greater ratio of 'hit' to 'miss', and when they're good, they're very, very good. So, cease with the nit-picking, and appreciate it for what it is.
However, I will concede on one point: he is, undeniably, the most psychologically unsound son-of-a-bitch ever to acquire a million-strong internet following - although, in all honesty, I don't think that particular point was ever in dispute ;)
Of course, it is perfectly feasible that an American might successfully train in the art of the samurai; however, this remains entirely separate to the point. In his critique of the film's merits, Maddox does not venture to dispute the hypothetical notion of an American as a samurai warrior: I, for one, happen to know of a British-born samurai, living right here in England; this is irrelevant. Rather, he serves to illuminate yet one more instance in which Hollywood can be perceived as choosing to hi-jack another country's cultural heritage, selectively re-interpreting the past with the sole purpose in mind of glorifying America's role in the historical trials and tribulations of its worldly counterparts, as opposed to remaining true to the actual, factual premise (from which this film purports to have taken its inspiration) by casting an oriental actor as Saigô Takamori - the original, Japanese 'last samurai' whose life is (or rather, isn't) depicted in the film.
http://www.emory.edu/HISTORY/RAVINA/lastsamurai.html
A clear indication that the actual last surviving samurai in Japan was (unsurprisingly) Japanese - and not, as the film would have us believe, American. What makes this movie so utterly condescending is that - as with the case of U-571 *spit* - it cites, as its ostensible 'inspiration', a singular episode in Japanese history: the Enigma machine was only stolen once; similarly, there could only logically exist one 'last samurai', and therefore, I find the film's very pretext to be wholly and principally objectionable, regardless of its 'fictional' status. Had they chosen instead to abbreviate the title to a comparably more modest 'The Samurai', or even 'An American Samurai', (establishing a potentially lucrative franchise via television spin-offs and straight-to-video sequels in the vein of 'An American Samurai in Tokyo', 'The Samurai Kid', etc. etc. ad nauseam) then perhaps it would not seem quite such patronising doggerel; nevertheless, it seems that Hollywood would much prefer a fraudulent edification of America's historical role over adherence to the basic facts: no doubt, this film will once again succeed fantastically in misinforming an American public proportionally as ignorant as it is impressionable. Besides which, his little comic strip illustrating the flagrant hypocrisy of the film's ostensible 'hero' is dead on.
And Todd, you have to accept this sort of thing with something more than a grain of salt. 'Dead Ringers' flagrantly exaggerates the defects of known political figures in order to emphasise their shortcomings, as a satirical device; to whit, Maddox utilises this same technique in his critiques to achieve effect. His parodies are very much a hit-and-miss affair (one must keep in mind that this is entertainment, first and foremost); nevertheless, my experience is certainly one of a disproportionately greater ratio of 'hit' to 'miss', and when they're good, they're very, very good. So, cease with the nit-picking, and appreciate it for what it is.
However, I will concede on one point: he is, undeniably, the most psychologically unsound son-of-a-bitch ever to acquire a million-strong internet following - although, in all honesty, I don't think that particular point was ever in dispute ;)
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
In response to Cynicism Lives (post dated Friday, 28th May, 2004):
"Though, presumably, were the Americans in any position to apply the death penalty, that would require him already to have been extradited at this juncture?
Only that rather strikes me as something of a pre-requisite for the execution of agitators. Then again, look at Israel..."
"After all, the Bush administration has incarcerated Lord knows how many alleged 'terrorists' at X-Ray before now; without trial, and entirely without regard for the fundamental right of a citizen to be tried under the constitution of their respective government, insofar as the authorities concerned are perceived to be acting in synergy with one another (which, in this case, they are).
Those held captive at Guantanamo Bay are being denied their most basic civil liberties, whilst the U.S. invokes self-proclaimed 'emergency powers' as nothing more than an expedient measure by which to circumvent established human rights legislation. All well and good, one might say, in the case of a genuine 'emergency'; however, September 2004 is fast approaching - almost three years down the line from that fateful conflict, and yet, to the untrained auspice, it might nevertheless appear that we are effectively no nearer to witnessing any discernible manifestation of justice being done on the part of the U.S. than we were, all those years before; neither on behalf of those numerous Britons held captive at the club-fisted assertions of an unelected, illegitimate and patently false administration, nor their Middle-Eastern ('Arab') counterparts."
And, 'old news' though this undoubtably is, it increasingly beggars belief.
"Though, presumably, were the Americans in any position to apply the death penalty, that would require him already to have been extradited at this juncture?
Only that rather strikes me as something of a pre-requisite for the execution of agitators. Then again, look at Israel..."
"After all, the Bush administration has incarcerated Lord knows how many alleged 'terrorists' at X-Ray before now; without trial, and entirely without regard for the fundamental right of a citizen to be tried under the constitution of their respective government, insofar as the authorities concerned are perceived to be acting in synergy with one another (which, in this case, they are).
Those held captive at Guantanamo Bay are being denied their most basic civil liberties, whilst the U.S. invokes self-proclaimed 'emergency powers' as nothing more than an expedient measure by which to circumvent established human rights legislation. All well and good, one might say, in the case of a genuine 'emergency'; however, September 2004 is fast approaching - almost three years down the line from that fateful conflict, and yet, to the untrained auspice, it might nevertheless appear that we are effectively no nearer to witnessing any discernible manifestation of justice being done on the part of the U.S. than we were, all those years before; neither on behalf of those numerous Britons held captive at the club-fisted assertions of an unelected, illegitimate and patently false administration, nor their Middle-Eastern ('Arab') counterparts."
And, 'old news' though this undoubtably is, it increasingly beggars belief.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
"Nme Calls this the Finest Dsco Album Since the First Daft Punk Album! it Combines the Genius of Giorgio Moroder with the Tech Heavy Sound of Detroit and the Playfulness of Italo Disco to a Perfect Mix. Kiko Has Created a Debut Album of Classic Proportion."
Notwithstanding the prevailing public perception of vowels as being little more than obsolete relics, to be confined to a morbid and desolate past alongside such similarly outmoded concepts as 'grammar', 'syntax' and 'legibility', the 'i' in 'disco' is an artefact which I, personally, had nevertheless deemed to be every bit as non-negotiable as the 'o' in 'obtuse', or the 'u' in 'stupid'. Secondly, although I for one can certainly purport to appreciate a good challenge, capitalising every other word in any given sentence posits an all-too obvious dilemma concerning the point at which headline gives way to preamble, and is comparably mind-numbing to having the magazine of a Desert Eagle .50 A.E. unceremoniously evacuated into one's cranium at point-blank range. Perhaps it holds true that a thousand monkeys at a thousand typewriters cannot be wrong; however, I find there is precious little to be said for the technical merits of one elephant and a keyboard. Sort this one out, please.
Yours pedantically,
R.
Self-gratification rocks.
Notwithstanding the prevailing public perception of vowels as being little more than obsolete relics, to be confined to a morbid and desolate past alongside such similarly outmoded concepts as 'grammar', 'syntax' and 'legibility', the 'i' in 'disco' is an artefact which I, personally, had nevertheless deemed to be every bit as non-negotiable as the 'o' in 'obtuse', or the 'u' in 'stupid'. Secondly, although I for one can certainly purport to appreciate a good challenge, capitalising every other word in any given sentence posits an all-too obvious dilemma concerning the point at which headline gives way to preamble, and is comparably mind-numbing to having the magazine of a Desert Eagle .50 A.E. unceremoniously evacuated into one's cranium at point-blank range. Perhaps it holds true that a thousand monkeys at a thousand typewriters cannot be wrong; however, I find there is precious little to be said for the technical merits of one elephant and a keyboard. Sort this one out, please.
Yours pedantically,
R.
Self-gratification rocks.
Saturday, June 05, 2004
My, what an evening. I managed to occupy a fair duration practising the dark arts of seduction upon an attractive, coy little sprite, only to be duly informed (and after the second kiss, for crying out loud) that she was somewhat less single than I had previously assumed. On one hand, due credit must be claimed on behalf of my ego for having succeeded in luring a non-desperate, non-spinster from the righteous path; on the other, I didn't exactly come away from this tragically brief encounter any less the batchelor than before, and in fact, given the events of the past five weeks, I am actually courting the notion that Satan insinuated me into Cheltenham's spiritual contingent for no other purpose than to corrupt all the good, honest Christian girls. Still, subsequent to much by way of romantic entanglement on the mosh scene, I did succeed in acquiring a rather substantial hickie for my troubles... right on the, er, wrist; most troubling. Well, there was more to do with biting than sucking, but you get me. *cackles mischievously*
Friday, June 04, 2004
If you're scheduled for a late-night sojourn from all things square, and plan on trimming some proverbial doormat, then there can be no better warm-up than to manoeuvre one's groinal appendages into the position of the lotus and remain thus entangled for a good half-hour or so beforehand. Not only does this re-apportion Yin and Yang, centring one's Chi for the task at hand, but word on the street tells me that the collapsible pelvis is in. Not that you'll be in any real condition to thank me, come the morning; but hey, those slipped discs and burnt toecaps say more than words ever could.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Having systematically erased any conventional work ethic or mental discipline which might otherwise compel me to de-base the very core of my being performing those altogether oh-so very degrading, pre-exam rituals which would seem nonethless incumbent upon my peers, I have yet succeeded in retaining that which enables me to sit, transfixed at the analogue porthole, night after night, plumbing the murky depths of the Amazon back-catalogue in search of that all-too elusive 'funky golden nugget'. Actually, speaking of 'back-catalogues', has anyone seen my mind, lately? Were one to challenge me to recite the first two-hundred entries in the Amazon electronic/dance 'bestsellers' category, I'm certain that one might promptly revise any prior misconceptions regarding the supposed limitations of the human cerebral cortex; however, in an effort to preserve my dignity (other, and more substantial parts of my anatomy, notwithstanding), I shall not be affording you the dubious pleasure of witnessing spontaneous human combustion for the very first time. Sorry.
Nevertheless: should one find oneself to be fumbling myopically throughout the Twilight Zone in an effort to burn up a few more of those useless, solitary, insomniac hours, then I personally find there to be no more effective method than that of logging onto KaZaA at 3am and performing searches for obscure, Swedish, electro-funk collectives under the alias of 'Plej'.
Good... morning?
Oops.
Nevertheless: should one find oneself to be fumbling myopically throughout the Twilight Zone in an effort to burn up a few more of those useless, solitary, insomniac hours, then I personally find there to be no more effective method than that of logging onto KaZaA at 3am and performing searches for obscure, Swedish, electro-funk collectives under the alias of 'Plej'.
Good... morning?
Oops.
