I heart the Olympics.
Sports are usually about a bunch of guys scoring points against a bunch of other guys, and it often involves a lot of complicated rules and lots of standing around in between short violent bouts of action.
But the Olympics are about human beings against physics, about finding the limits of your own body and then pushing past those limits. It's not even about the Gold (but, really, it's all about the Gold, right? I mean, Silver, Bronze...who the hell cares?) it's about doing your personal best with the world watching. I love the theatricality of it, the drama of each struggle whether that struggle is with the other competitors, the clock, or your own demons.
I'm typing this while watching the Men's super-G (I don't even know what that means, but it seems to involve guys skiing very fast down a terrifyingly steep mountain). The commentators mentioned that the athletes only got a chance to inspect the course once this morning which means they would need "a good memory and a lot of nerve".
What's not to love about that? "A good memory and a lot of nerve." It's like a proverb about life or something.
Oh goodness, they are going fast.
I have been watching all the coverage since it began, but I actually have probably only SEEN about three quarters of it because a lot of the time I'm watching with my hands over my eyes. Not only am I worried about them falling and hurting themselves, but sometimes I get so wrapped up in who I want to win (cough Evan Lysacek, men's figure skating cough) that I almost can't watch them perform. I basically closed my eyes every time it looked like Evan was going to do a jump because I didn't want to see him fall. Which, as it turns out, I needn't have bothered because he ROCKED IT!
Oh Bode Miller, please don't go so fast, I worry about you. Oh thank goodness, he made it down alive and in FIRST PLACE! Let's see if he can hold onto it...here comes a Canadian OH GOD HE FELL! Oh he's OK. Got right back up. Do you see what these boys do to my heart? Lindsey Vonn was the worst because not only did I really really REALLY want her to win, but I was also afraid that she would hurt herself, knowing that she came into the games ALREADY INJURED. Who does that? Why was she even training in the first place, doesn't she know that's dangerous?
Yeah.
Basically I become everyone's mother.
I really shouldn't shout at the TV, I think my neighbors think I'm crazy.
OK, I'm going to leave you now, I just felt inspired to share.
Later,
Jules
Friday, February 19, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Crazy Feet
This whole "can't sleep so I get up and write a monologue instead" thing is sort of getting old.
Not that I don't want the muse to visit me because I do think this is another great one which I will perform next season, but why couldn't I have written it at, oh say, 5 PM instead of 5 AM.
Yes, 5 AM.
OK, granted I was watching The Big Bang Theory until 3:30 AM, but then I was trying to sleep. My brain wouldn't turn off. It just kept mulling ideas over no matter how often I shouted, "SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP." Eventually, I hit upon the idea for this monologue and started composing it in my head.
I stopped for a moment. "You'll never remember this in the morning," I thought ruefully. With a sigh, I sat up, hit my light, and opened my computer.
Now, I debated posting this because so much of it's humor depends on how it is performed. In fact, I think the actual monologue itself doesn't really have all that many jokes, it's more the character of the monologue which is funny. Well, I think it's funny, anyway.
I tried to give as much description as possible as to how it would be performed, but well...you'll see. I have also capitalized words to indicate emphasis.
Anyway, here it is.
"Crazy Feet: A Brilliant Performance"
By: Julia
(An actress, she speaks very slowly and clearly with strange emphasis and awkward intonations.)
Hi, my name is Julia, and I am going to do a…uh…Monologue, for you. Right now.
(She prepares in the cliched actor way, head down hand moving in front of the face like some sort of weird prayer gesture. She looks up, having been interrupted.)
Wha-? Oh what’s that? What is the Name of my Monologue? The Name of the monologue is “Crazy Feet”. Which, by the way, will be a lot more hilarious after you’ve seen it. In fact, I think if we all take a moment to just Meditate on the title “Crazy” “Feet” (laugh snorts) I mean, it’s just…it’s brilliant! Because ‘crazy feet’ is an amusing Theme of the Monologue “Crazy Feet”. (She smiles at them, sees that they are not joining the joke and deflates.)
Um…OK*, I’m going to start now.
(Prepares again, looks up and tries to start, but catches the eye of her audience and needs to start again. She prepares again, trying to calm herself, looks up and begins) “My feet” …uh… (she trails off looking like a deer in the headlights)
Golly this was easier in my apartment. See in my apartment there are no actual People watching me perform my Monologue. There are stuffed animals though. (Visualizes the animals as though there were hordes of them closing in on her) Lots and lots of stuffed animals. And dolls. See I put them on my bed, all lined up like a little audience of woodland creatures and…and…short people. And they watch me perform “Crazy Feet”. And no matter how much I suck, they just keep Smiling their little Frozen Fmiles. Frozen, Non-Judgmental smiles.
Sometimes, though their staring does get a little intense, so I turn them around and make them face the wall, and I don’t feel so….Watched. You know?
In fact, it would really help me if you would all just turn around and face the wall while I do my monologue “Crazy Feet”. (tries to laugh as though this were a reasonable request, but catches the expression of the auditioners.)
I’m not going to get the part, am I?
*(only Elizabeth will get this, but that OK is along the lines of "Oh good" in the style of Johnny Depp as Ed Wood)
Not that I don't want the muse to visit me because I do think this is another great one which I will perform next season, but why couldn't I have written it at, oh say, 5 PM instead of 5 AM.
Yes, 5 AM.
OK, granted I was watching The Big Bang Theory until 3:30 AM, but then I was trying to sleep. My brain wouldn't turn off. It just kept mulling ideas over no matter how often I shouted, "SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP." Eventually, I hit upon the idea for this monologue and started composing it in my head.
I stopped for a moment. "You'll never remember this in the morning," I thought ruefully. With a sigh, I sat up, hit my light, and opened my computer.
Now, I debated posting this because so much of it's humor depends on how it is performed. In fact, I think the actual monologue itself doesn't really have all that many jokes, it's more the character of the monologue which is funny. Well, I think it's funny, anyway.
I tried to give as much description as possible as to how it would be performed, but well...you'll see. I have also capitalized words to indicate emphasis.
Anyway, here it is.
"Crazy Feet: A Brilliant Performance"
By: Julia
(An actress, she speaks very slowly and clearly with strange emphasis and awkward intonations.)
Hi, my name is Julia, and I am going to do a…uh…Monologue, for you. Right now.
(She prepares in the cliched actor way, head down hand moving in front of the face like some sort of weird prayer gesture. She looks up, having been interrupted.)
Wha-? Oh what’s that? What is the Name of my Monologue? The Name of the monologue is “Crazy Feet”. Which, by the way, will be a lot more hilarious after you’ve seen it. In fact, I think if we all take a moment to just Meditate on the title “Crazy” “Feet” (laugh snorts) I mean, it’s just…it’s brilliant! Because ‘crazy feet’ is an amusing Theme of the Monologue “Crazy Feet”. (She smiles at them, sees that they are not joining the joke and deflates.)
Um…OK*, I’m going to start now.
(Prepares again, looks up and tries to start, but catches the eye of her audience and needs to start again. She prepares again, trying to calm herself, looks up and begins) “My feet” …uh… (she trails off looking like a deer in the headlights)
Golly this was easier in my apartment. See in my apartment there are no actual People watching me perform my Monologue. There are stuffed animals though. (Visualizes the animals as though there were hordes of them closing in on her) Lots and lots of stuffed animals. And dolls. See I put them on my bed, all lined up like a little audience of woodland creatures and…and…short people. And they watch me perform “Crazy Feet”. And no matter how much I suck, they just keep Smiling their little Frozen Fmiles. Frozen, Non-Judgmental smiles.
Sometimes, though their staring does get a little intense, so I turn them around and make them face the wall, and I don’t feel so….Watched. You know?
In fact, it would really help me if you would all just turn around and face the wall while I do my monologue “Crazy Feet”. (tries to laugh as though this were a reasonable request, but catches the expression of the auditioners.)
I’m not going to get the part, am I?
*(only Elizabeth will get this, but that OK is along the lines of "Oh good" in the style of Johnny Depp as Ed Wood)
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Retail: The Show Must Go On
There are many things happening in my life that I could be sharing with all of you, but because they are all happening, I don't have time.
Working...too...much....
Dealing with cranky-bah-humbug-holiday-hating customers.
And also with men who have NO IDEA what they are supposed to be buying and therefore need A LOT of help as well as everything wrapped. It's extremely amusing listening to them try to describe their girlfriend/wife/daughter/sister/mother's size. "My girlfriend is about 5'8", and she's thin, but not emaciated thin, you know.....She's very leggy."
OK, how about a pretty silk slip with lace edges? Here's the small, do you think she looks like a small?
"Maybe a medium...she can exchange it, right?"
Also, something I never thought about when I took this job is how often I have to model things for men. I tried on a robe the other day so this guy could get an idea of the size. I've also had to stop wearing necklaces for the time being because I'm constantly slipping one on for a look. Sometimes I'll be helping someone else when I'll hear either Deirdre or Annette say my name. I look over to see them standing with a man staring intently at my body, and I know that they've just asked, "Is she about Julia's size? Because then you should go with the small."
It does hurt a bit when I'm asked, "What size would you wear?" and I say "small" and they come back with, "Really? Oh well then, my wife/girlfriend will definitely take the small. Does it come in extra small?"
Thanks.
Anyway, this isn't why I came on here. There will be time for this later, when I have time.
I really just wanted to post this video which I finished weeks ago and never shared with anyone.
This is about the death of Superman. Basically, he died, Luthor stole some genetic material and cloned himself a morally skewed Superman, and then the real Superman came back to life sporting a mullet and a new black costume to take him down. Enjoy.
(Oh, and it starts out quiet, so you might have to turn up your sound.)
Working...too...much....
Dealing with cranky-bah-humbug-holiday-hating customers.
And also with men who have NO IDEA what they are supposed to be buying and therefore need A LOT of help as well as everything wrapped. It's extremely amusing listening to them try to describe their girlfriend/wife/daughter/sister/mother's size. "My girlfriend is about 5'8", and she's thin, but not emaciated thin, you know.....She's very leggy."
OK, how about a pretty silk slip with lace edges? Here's the small, do you think she looks like a small?
"Maybe a medium...she can exchange it, right?"
Also, something I never thought about when I took this job is how often I have to model things for men. I tried on a robe the other day so this guy could get an idea of the size. I've also had to stop wearing necklaces for the time being because I'm constantly slipping one on for a look. Sometimes I'll be helping someone else when I'll hear either Deirdre or Annette say my name. I look over to see them standing with a man staring intently at my body, and I know that they've just asked, "Is she about Julia's size? Because then you should go with the small."
It does hurt a bit when I'm asked, "What size would you wear?" and I say "small" and they come back with, "Really? Oh well then, my wife/girlfriend will definitely take the small. Does it come in extra small?"
Thanks.
Anyway, this isn't why I came on here. There will be time for this later, when I have time.
I really just wanted to post this video which I finished weeks ago and never shared with anyone.
This is about the death of Superman. Basically, he died, Luthor stole some genetic material and cloned himself a morally skewed Superman, and then the real Superman came back to life sporting a mullet and a new black costume to take him down. Enjoy.
(Oh, and it starts out quiet, so you might have to turn up your sound.)
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Technical Difficulties
I just published a post but every time I look at it the font is doing something weird. I think I've fixed it for now, but if it looks weird, now you know why.
Halloween (sans pictures)
OK, I still don't have the pictures from Halloween, but I wrote this AGES ago (OK, maybe it was only two weeks ago, but it FEELS like ages) and I'm just going to post it, pictures or no pictures.
So here it is:
This is supposed to be my Halloween story, but I do not yet have the accompanying pictures. However, I may have them by the end of the day (note: I did not get them at the end of the day), in which case, this could still be my Halloween story. So let's get the story part out of the way.
I mentioned on my Facebook page (I know, it's shocking. I actually updated my status. It only happens every three or four months, so I kind of doubt that anyone actually saw it since I've trained them not to look at my page. WHICH IS EXACTLY HOW I WANT IT. As soon as people think I might actually be a part of an online community, they start expecting me to do things like answer them in a timely manner when they leave me a message.) that I was considering my costume options. On the one hand, I bought that dress that looks very Star Trek. Not only that, but the dress is from Otto, and I always like wearing Otto clothes when I'm working. "Working" being a fairly loose term for what I was doing on Saturday since a great part of my job involved handing out candy to the throngs of children. However, though the dress is very reminiscent of Star Trek, it is not entirely accurate. For one thing it's black and gray when it ought to be black and red or blue or gold. For another thing....no, wait, that's the only thing. Other than that it looks almost exactly like a Starfleet uniform. (The spell-check does NOT recognize "Starfleet". I'm shocked.) And it looks even more like a Starfleet uniform when I wear my communicator pin which my mother bought me from Geeks-R-Us.
Option 2 was to wear a red shirt with black trousers. I even considered doing some fancy make-up effects to make me appear dead, since we all know that is the fate of Red Shirts. (Or do we all know that? Have I nerded all of you up enough? The rule is, if three of the main cast are beaming down to the planet with Ensign Ricky, who is wearing a red shirt, you can bet that Ensign Ricky will be dead before the first commercial break. This 'proves' that the situation is very serious and the main characters are in danger. Except we know they aren't because, hello, they'll be back on next week.) Although, that's not actually true in The Next Generation because Captain Picard wears red, and he certainly hasn't died yet. Neither has Smug Git. (I love Will Riker, I really do, but he can be a bit of a smug git sometimes, so I've taken to calling him that. I say it fondly, though.) Therefore, this costume choice would be more accurate to classic Trek, but then my communicator is Next Gen, so again, we have a bit of a pickle. (Not really, I just like saying "pickle".)
I went with option 1. I figured most of Park Slope wouldn't really know the difference, and I would look nice and maybe even sell the dress. (I did actually have two girls about my age who complimented me and asked if I had made the outfit myself. "No," I replied, "What kind of dork do you think I am? I bought it here." I showed it to them, they oohed and ahhed, and mused that maybe they could buy it and dress as Trekkers for Halloween. I then had to explain that the communicator did not come with the dress. That I was, in fact, the kind of dork they thought, and no, they could not borrow the pin.) Oh, I forgot to mention that in addition to the communicator pin, I had my pips (little gold circles which display your rank) which I made by sticking two gold earrings through the neck of the dress. They looked amazingly accurate, and I checked online to see what rank that would make me just in case anyone asked (which they didn't, but I told them anyway, at every opportunity). Lieutenant Poyer, at your service.
I must admit that I did try the communicator out. "Lieutenant Poyer to Captain Picard," I said, tapping the pin once. No one answered. Sigh.
Many people recognized that I was a Star Trek Character, but only two recognized that there was something not quite right about my outfit.
"What does gray represent? I don't remember that specialty. Red is for command, blue for science and gold for tactical, so what is gray for?" This was asked by an middle-aged man who was trick-or-treating with a large group of adults and children.
I smiled. "Yeah, it's not entirely accurate, but I did the best with what I had."
I only saw one other Trekker in costume, and (surprisingly) it was another woman. She had an official costume, though, not something cobbled together. I happened to be surrounded by children when she came up, but I did hear someone say, "But she's from Next Generation," and looked up in time to see the fellow Trekker standing with her husband (I'm assuming) and a few others all looking intently at me. I smiled and waved, then was forced to concentrate on the jostling children. I swear, the more candy they get, the more desperate they are.
All in all, it was a fun day. Several people said, "Live long and prosper" to which I replied, "Actually, that's from the original Star Trek series with Spock, whereas I am from Star Trek The Next Generation." I'm kidding. I didn't say that. What kind of nerd do you think I am? I just laughed and smiled and did the hand gesture back at them (the Star Trek hand gesture, not the rude one).
I did, however, correct Deirdre who saw my outfit and said, "The Force is with you."
"No, Deirdre," I said. "That's Star WARS. I'm from Star TREK."
"There's a difference?" she asked.
FACEPALM
So here it is:
This is supposed to be my Halloween story, but I do not yet have the accompanying pictures. However, I may have them by the end of the day (note: I did not get them at the end of the day), in which case, this could still be my Halloween story. So let's get the story part out of the way.
I mentioned on my Facebook page (I know, it's shocking. I actually updated my status. It only happens every three or four months, so I kind of doubt that anyone actually saw it since I've trained them not to look at my page. WHICH IS EXACTLY HOW I WANT IT. As soon as people think I might actually be a part of an online community, they start expecting me to do things like answer them in a timely manner when they leave me a message.) that I was considering my costume options. On the one hand, I bought that dress that looks very Star Trek. Not only that, but the dress is from Otto, and I always like wearing Otto clothes when I'm working. "Working" being a fairly loose term for what I was doing on Saturday since a great part of my job involved handing out candy to the throngs of children. However, though the dress is very reminiscent of Star Trek, it is not entirely accurate. For one thing it's black and gray when it ought to be black and red or blue or gold. For another thing....no, wait, that's the only thing. Other than that it looks almost exactly like a Starfleet uniform. (The spell-check does NOT recognize "Starfleet". I'm shocked.) And it looks even more like a Starfleet uniform when I wear my communicator pin which my mother bought me from Geeks-R-Us.
Option 2 was to wear a red shirt with black trousers. I even considered doing some fancy make-up effects to make me appear dead, since we all know that is the fate of Red Shirts. (Or do we all know that? Have I nerded all of you up enough? The rule is, if three of the main cast are beaming down to the planet with Ensign Ricky, who is wearing a red shirt, you can bet that Ensign Ricky will be dead before the first commercial break. This 'proves' that the situation is very serious and the main characters are in danger. Except we know they aren't because, hello, they'll be back on next week.) Although, that's not actually true in The Next Generation because Captain Picard wears red, and he certainly hasn't died yet. Neither has Smug Git. (I love Will Riker, I really do, but he can be a bit of a smug git sometimes, so I've taken to calling him that. I say it fondly, though.) Therefore, this costume choice would be more accurate to classic Trek, but then my communicator is Next Gen, so again, we have a bit of a pickle. (Not really, I just like saying "pickle".)
I went with option 1. I figured most of Park Slope wouldn't really know the difference, and I would look nice and maybe even sell the dress. (I did actually have two girls about my age who complimented me and asked if I had made the outfit myself. "No," I replied, "What kind of dork do you think I am? I bought it here." I showed it to them, they oohed and ahhed, and mused that maybe they could buy it and dress as Trekkers for Halloween. I then had to explain that the communicator did not come with the dress. That I was, in fact, the kind of dork they thought, and no, they could not borrow the pin.) Oh, I forgot to mention that in addition to the communicator pin, I had my pips (little gold circles which display your rank) which I made by sticking two gold earrings through the neck of the dress. They looked amazingly accurate, and I checked online to see what rank that would make me just in case anyone asked (which they didn't, but I told them anyway, at every opportunity). Lieutenant Poyer, at your service.
I must admit that I did try the communicator out. "Lieutenant Poyer to Captain Picard," I said, tapping the pin once. No one answered. Sigh.
Many people recognized that I was a Star Trek Character, but only two recognized that there was something not quite right about my outfit.
"What does gray represent? I don't remember that specialty. Red is for command, blue for science and gold for tactical, so what is gray for?" This was asked by an middle-aged man who was trick-or-treating with a large group of adults and children.
I smiled. "Yeah, it's not entirely accurate, but I did the best with what I had."
I only saw one other Trekker in costume, and (surprisingly) it was another woman. She had an official costume, though, not something cobbled together. I happened to be surrounded by children when she came up, but I did hear someone say, "But she's from Next Generation," and looked up in time to see the fellow Trekker standing with her husband (I'm assuming) and a few others all looking intently at me. I smiled and waved, then was forced to concentrate on the jostling children. I swear, the more candy they get, the more desperate they are.
All in all, it was a fun day. Several people said, "Live long and prosper" to which I replied, "Actually, that's from the original Star Trek series with Spock, whereas I am from Star Trek The Next Generation." I'm kidding. I didn't say that. What kind of nerd do you think I am? I just laughed and smiled and did the hand gesture back at them (the Star Trek hand gesture, not the rude one).
I did, however, correct Deirdre who saw my outfit and said, "The Force is with you."
"No, Deirdre," I said. "That's Star WARS. I'm from Star TREK."
"There's a difference?" she asked.
FACEPALM
Thursday, November 12, 2009
The Fan
Arrgh. This was supposed to be a post about Halloween, but I don't have the pictures yet. And it's really not worth it without the pictures.
So, instead, I have another monologue for you. I wrote this last night (or, rather, this morning) at about 4:30am, because I couldn't sleep. I was lying in bed thinking about the first monologue I wrote and how I might end it (and actually came up with something that might work) when I was suddenly struck by another idea. Knowing that I would never get to sleep until I got this ridiculousness out of my head, I finally threw off the covers, switched on the light, opened my computer and started typing. I was going to post it immediately after I finished, but I decided to try sleep first. Anyway, this is what came out. Let me know what you think.
The Fan
(Woman, slightly crazy, speaks very quickly especially when she gets excited.)
(Approaching with caution) Um, hi. Hey man, sorry to bother you, I just had to come over here. I. Fucking. LOVE you man! You are my favorite actor of ALL TIME!
Seriously. I have followed your career from the beginning. Every movie you have ever made is solid gold.
No. (Suddenly turns very serious, almost homicidally so.)
Do not be modest.
Be proud.
Be proud of the work you have done. It is ART.
Like that early film you did, where you were killed halfway through by the aliens or whatever. It was a small role, I know, but you made me believe in those aliens…or whatever.
And then you were in that thing with that girl, you know, Whatshername, she’s on that show now… anyway, at first you liked each other then you hated each other but then you realized you loved each other. I mean, sure, it was a chick flick and it was funny and everything, but when it came right down to it, it was just about two people, you know. Connecting. Then not connecting. Then connecting again.
OH! And then, your Big Break. Two words: SUMMER BLOCKBUSTER. (squeals with excitement) You know, where you played that cop or FBI agent or something. And you didn’t really play by the rules, you were kind of rogue and you had to stop that guy from killing those people oh my GOD, that was awesome! I mean the special effects were…and all those explosions…but it still made you think, you know?
Oh, and congratulations! You just won that award for that thing about the minority kid who was troubled, and you became like a mentor and helped his team win that game but you were troubled too and it turns out the kid really taught you a lesson, and not the other way around. Yeah, that was great. Really gets you. Right here.
Anyway, could you sign this for me? (Holds out paper) Thank you, I really appreciate it. (calling after him as he’s walking away) Love your work. Think your great. (Watches him walk out of sight, then looks down at the paper)
Ohhhhh…that’s who that was.
Feedback? Does it need a little more filling out, or does it go on too long? Keep in mind the manic pace at which it will be delivered. Does the ending work? Once again, it's difficult just to read it because tone and speed are so crucial to the performance, but hopefully you get the idea.
Have to go to work now,
Jules
So, instead, I have another monologue for you. I wrote this last night (or, rather, this morning) at about 4:30am, because I couldn't sleep. I was lying in bed thinking about the first monologue I wrote and how I might end it (and actually came up with something that might work) when I was suddenly struck by another idea. Knowing that I would never get to sleep until I got this ridiculousness out of my head, I finally threw off the covers, switched on the light, opened my computer and started typing. I was going to post it immediately after I finished, but I decided to try sleep first. Anyway, this is what came out. Let me know what you think.
The Fan
(Woman, slightly crazy, speaks very quickly especially when she gets excited.)
(Approaching with caution) Um, hi. Hey man, sorry to bother you, I just had to come over here. I. Fucking. LOVE you man! You are my favorite actor of ALL TIME!
Seriously. I have followed your career from the beginning. Every movie you have ever made is solid gold.
No. (Suddenly turns very serious, almost homicidally so.)
Do not be modest.
Be proud.
Be proud of the work you have done. It is ART.
Like that early film you did, where you were killed halfway through by the aliens or whatever. It was a small role, I know, but you made me believe in those aliens…or whatever.
And then you were in that thing with that girl, you know, Whatshername, she’s on that show now… anyway, at first you liked each other then you hated each other but then you realized you loved each other. I mean, sure, it was a chick flick and it was funny and everything, but when it came right down to it, it was just about two people, you know. Connecting. Then not connecting. Then connecting again.
OH! And then, your Big Break. Two words: SUMMER BLOCKBUSTER. (squeals with excitement) You know, where you played that cop or FBI agent or something. And you didn’t really play by the rules, you were kind of rogue and you had to stop that guy from killing those people oh my GOD, that was awesome! I mean the special effects were…and all those explosions…but it still made you think, you know?
Oh, and congratulations! You just won that award for that thing about the minority kid who was troubled, and you became like a mentor and helped his team win that game but you were troubled too and it turns out the kid really taught you a lesson, and not the other way around. Yeah, that was great. Really gets you. Right here.
Anyway, could you sign this for me? (Holds out paper) Thank you, I really appreciate it. (calling after him as he’s walking away) Love your work. Think your great. (Watches him walk out of sight, then looks down at the paper)
Ohhhhh…that’s who that was.
Feedback? Does it need a little more filling out, or does it go on too long? Keep in mind the manic pace at which it will be delivered. Does the ending work? Once again, it's difficult just to read it because tone and speed are so crucial to the performance, but hopefully you get the idea.
Have to go to work now,
Jules
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Don't Blame Me...
This is the post you feared. I did warn you though, and then I left a very long gap for you to decide whether or not to continue reading my sporadic posts. So whatever happens next is out of my hands.
I present to you "Blame It On the Crew of the Enterprise" my first video using clips from ST:TNG.
A little background:
I wanted my first video to be a serious and dramatic look at the dynamic between Data and his evil brother Lore. To that end, I began shopping for the perfect piece of music which could showcase their turbulent and rather complicated relationship. Something that would speak to the fact that Data is, essentially, an orphan and the only android in the whole of the universe, until he discovers Lore, the prototype that came before Data and was dismantled because he was deemed a failure. Because he's EVIL. If that doesn't make for nice dramatic tension, I don't know what does.
Anyway, I couldn't find what I was looking for exactly, but decided to start work with a song that was almost right. It was going OK, I suppose, but in the meantime I was listening to this song on my iPod and kept thinking it would make a hilarious video.
"But no!" I protested, "I want my first ST vid to be SERIOUS!"
Still, the song persisted. Reluctantly, I sat down and started work.
It ended up being the most difficult video I've made yet (and took about a month) , but I think it turned out really well.
So here they are: the crew of the Enterprise.
*A note on the song,
It's by Mika who, when looking up information about him, is noted for having been influenced by everyone from Elton John to ABBA to Rufus Wainwright to musical theatre. In other words, it's weird. Just go with it.
Blame It On the Crew of the Enterprise
I present to you "Blame It On the Crew of the Enterprise" my first video using clips from ST:TNG.
A little background:
I wanted my first video to be a serious and dramatic look at the dynamic between Data and his evil brother Lore. To that end, I began shopping for the perfect piece of music which could showcase their turbulent and rather complicated relationship. Something that would speak to the fact that Data is, essentially, an orphan and the only android in the whole of the universe, until he discovers Lore, the prototype that came before Data and was dismantled because he was deemed a failure. Because he's EVIL. If that doesn't make for nice dramatic tension, I don't know what does.
Anyway, I couldn't find what I was looking for exactly, but decided to start work with a song that was almost right. It was going OK, I suppose, but in the meantime I was listening to this song on my iPod and kept thinking it would make a hilarious video.
"But no!" I protested, "I want my first ST vid to be SERIOUS!"
Still, the song persisted. Reluctantly, I sat down and started work.
It ended up being the most difficult video I've made yet (and took about a month) , but I think it turned out really well.
So here they are: the crew of the Enterprise.
*A note on the song,
It's by Mika who, when looking up information about him, is noted for having been influenced by everyone from Elton John to ABBA to Rufus Wainwright to musical theatre. In other words, it's weird. Just go with it.
Blame It On the Crew of the Enterprise
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