Why have movies gone to hell? We could chat about corporate and legal things trumping creative spirit, but let’s just say we are at a point where the following is a real, honest-to-God capsule description of a film entitled Blood Soaked coming out this year:
A lesbian college couple becomes stranded in the middle of nowhere with a pack of orphaned Nazi zombie breeders hellbent on their demise.
I think it’s a remake of Casablanca…
Weep for a dead art form…
It’s the holiday season, a time of peace, love and serenity – a perfect for the kids to come back from school, meet old friends and revel in the togetherness of the season.
Maybe get everyone together and take in one of the latest movies…. (OK these are not pleasant – so don’t watch if you don’t like horror violence blood and guts – but I pulled these of the latest trailers list from apple trailers and IMDB. And we shake our heads in disbelief at school, mall and public violence – but don’t worry – there’s no direct relationship between violence in the movies and real life. Because everyone who goes to the movies is just out for a good time and has no social or psychological issues that may be triggered by shit like this.)
Saw this movie today. Outstanding.
So today is the big company picnic where the employees get to go romp and play in the sunshine, eat catered food and form groups of the usual cliques around the …well…wherever they are going. I, on the other hand, am a contractor and therefore not permitted to take place in such frivolities. That’s okay. This comes up every year and while it does feel exclusionary I know it is at the hands of the legal beagles flapping their Brooks Brother’s capes that this situation exists.
Anyway, I’m in the elevator this morning with an employee I sort of know..at least enough to say ‘hi’ by name and he does so in kind. He asks if I am going today and I say, no, I’m a contractor…
Him: really? i thought you were an employee.
Me: no. i’ve been a contractor for 11 years.
Him: (gets puzzled look on his face – i know what this look means as I encounter it on almost a weekly basis. It’s a look that means to say “And you’re not an employee yet because???”)
Me: No one has ever asked.
Him: I’m going to order you a red stapler. You’re like that guy on Office Space.
Great. Thanx. That really boosts my ego to know I’m thought of as Milton. Go have fun at your picnic, douche-rocket…
excuse me, i’m due back in the basement now…
How well do you deal with the natural end of things? Some are easier than others but, not unlike dying celebrities, these things always seem happen in threes. I’m in that threesome cycle (get your mind out of the gutter and focus, cooper) as three things have, or are about to, draw to a close.
1. On a worldwide scale, of course, Mr. Potter and company. We saw it yesterday and while the film is spectacular, operatic and satisfying on just about every level, walking out of theater is like walking away from your kids having just dropped them off as college freshman, an apt comparison but I won’t expand for those who have not seen the film or read the book. All the kids we’ve watched grow up move on to lead their lives and it leaves a bit of a hole. Tooling around the nets brings another aspect of this affecting an age demographic different from my own. These characters were part of millions of kids childhood experience. For them, letting go of childhood friends can be daunting after spending ten years with them. Kind of like standing in the street watching the moving van make its way down the road.
2. Closer to home, but not entirely unrelated…the book is done. Those who have followed this lame blog over the years know that i’ve been writing this for far too long. The final (I promise) draft is in the hands of my manuscript editor. Now comes the fun part of shopping it around. For my bloggy friends that stepped up to the plate a couple of years ago (yes, it was two years ago) to read the draft as it stood then, you hold a sacred place in the growth of this child – which, btw, has undergone radical surgery since then and, I feel, is much better. Only time will tell if my instincts are on target.
3. I’ve spent the past three days walking the fence and conferring with a very nervous mrs. about leaving my current job. No, I’m not hallucinating that I will instantly become the next Rowling and don’t need to work anymore. Last week was, at a minimum, one of the final nails in the coffin. Where I work is more dysfunctional than a Manson family reunion and I spent two full days fighting with people to do what’s expected of them without me babysitting their asses 24/7. I do not micro-manage. My expectations (and there lies the crux of the biscuit) are that if the tasks are presented clearly that my fellow inmates are adult and responsible enough to finish said tasks and/or ask for help when needed, without me asking every hour how things are going and are there any issues. This is not the case at my loony bin. People hit a brick wall and lie there waiting for someone else to help them up, without saying a word to anyone. I’ve just had enough. The kids are gone, the money is not that important any more, but my sanity is. After 10 years, the chaos just grows worse day after day. I’m not supposed to live like this am I? Needless to say, me and the forces of life have been conversing heavily to come to a rationale and wise solution. Yes, the conventional wisdom is not to leave without something else set up. I don’t know if i can last that long.