"Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy night."
Sunday, October 27, 2013
MELTDOWN!!
When I don't have much to say, when I am embroiled in editing my next novel (The Glass Character!) and feeling like I'm in the trenches, there are always gifs.
GIFS (or gifs, or giffys or whatever-they-are) are easy to make, but tricky. Tricky in that you must literally isolate hundreds of a second to get the effect you want without extraneous material. There are other restrictions: on the program I like, you have to use YouTube videos that are shorter than 10 minutes, and not all of them work.
But the rest is done for you, so I don't really have to do anything very technical. My favorite site is Y2GIF, though GIFninja ain't bad for using your own videos or making montages of stills.
I am totally freaked out by this cartoon, as animation in the '30s was completely bizarre. Most of it was ripped off of Disney, and this one is no exception. There is this Oswald the Rabbit, and I can't find him because he looks like a mouse with long ears (IF that's him), a dead ringer for Mickey.
This cartoon even uses similar effects to the skeleton dance I made gifs out of a couple of posts ago, but very crudely: the skeleton leaping forward into the frame so that the camera passes right through his hollow body and out the other side. Stylin'.
Walter Lantz was the animator for this one, and it ain't much for imagination. He went on to Woody Woodpecker and Andy Panda and a few others I don't remember now.
But it sure made a few great gifs.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Two little words that nobody says
Two little words. There are two little words, NOT three (the ones written on those cheap heart-shaped boxes of candy from the drug store) or four (the ultimate, shining, tinsel-coated four that cause men to get down on one knee at hockey arenas with the Jumbotron on them). I never hear these two little words any more, and in fact I can’t even remember the last time I heard them.
If someone is offensive to you, if someone says something rotten, if someone hurts your feelings with the nastiest thing they can possibly say, what generally happens? What does the offender say, if they bother to say anything at all?
“Oh, I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” (or, alternately, “Jeez, stop being so sensitive!”)
“You obviously don’t know how to receive feedback (or, alternately, “You need to work on your ability to receive feedback”).
“I was only trying to help you” (with your bad breath, terrible cooking, lousy taste in clothes, etc.)
“I just don’t see how you can be so ungrateful” (for all this help!).
“How dare you accuse me of saying something so mean!”
“What’s the matter with you? Why are you so neurotic?”
“It was a joke! (your taste in music, movies, art, people). Don’t you have a sense of humor?”
“Oh, no, you misunderstood me. I would never say anything like that” (you’re fat, you’re boring, you’re lousy in bed).
“Well, I’d never react that way. I always receive criticism as a compliment to my ability to change in a healthy, positive direction.”
"I know I'm right, but if you really need me to say it. . . "
"Well, what do you want me to say?"
"I didn't say that."
"You made it up."
“You’re just playing the victim.”
“You made me do it.”
“You owe me an apology.”
“Oh, but this is karma.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“Criticism is just God’s way of remaining anonymous.”
“Here, read this book.”
“Here, read this book.”
“Here, read this book.”
For some reason, every nation in the world has turned to Teflon. NO ONE takes responsibility any more, for anything. To do so is so rare that it is seen as almost freakish.
Just when do people learn these baroque twists and turns, these arabesques which slip and slide them out of any necessity for owning up to saying something personally hurtful? We all know the advantages in this system. It means people can spew out the meanest, most venomous comments and then turn the blame around and aim it at the victim. Yes, victim. If someone has a poison dart thrown at them, they are a victim, though the word now has such negative connotations that it's seen as an insult in itself.
A victim of someone else's verbal cruelty does not deserve to have their own protests shoved back down their throat. Nevertheless, it happens all the time, along with all the other popular flip-flops practiced by the heartless. No one “makes” anyone do anything abusive, but this is something you hear over and over again from the thugs that make everyone else's life so utterly wretched.
I have seen people behave abominably because they hurt me. You see, I am not allowed to say anything. Ever. If I do say something, THEY flip out, act as if they have been horribly abused. "How could you do this to me?" Then the shivering little rabbit, limping after being so badly kicked, crawls under the bed.
I have a remedy for all this twisted shit, and it is very simple, though not (apparently, or people would do it once in a while) easy. It’s only two words, and once they’re out, you can run and go gargle with mouthwash and then go home.
"I’m sorry."
Not, “Even though I know I was right, I guess I’m. . . “
Not, “Even though I know you’re way too sensitive, I guess I’m. ..”
Two little words.
And that’s all.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Editing your novel can be hazardous to your health
Encountering a T-Rex in some steaming Amazonian jungle is NOTHING compared to the embattled state of editing your novel. You will come to see it as a nightmare beyond your wildest dreams.
But just maybe, if you keep at it, you and the monster can learn the cha-cha-cha.
Monday, October 21, 2013
Harold's hand (what it really looked like)
As you can see, there was not much left of Harold Lloyd's right hand. Half of it was blown off by a prop bomb that turned out to be fully loaded. But the way he dealt with this was - way cool.
Though he wore a prosthetic for his pictures, as far as we know, NO ONE NOTICED IT. That's because he didn't try to hide it. It must have come in handy to be a magician well-versed in prestidigitation, so he managed well and probably ended up better for having an obstacle to push against. In public, he was cool about it, knowing when to wear the glove and when (as above - bowling with half a hand!) he could leave it at home. Sometimes putting his hand in his pocket sufficed; it became a characteristic gesture, part of his coolness.
Yes. And this was at a time when disabilities were considered shameful and almost always covered up. Here he's out dancing and obviously enjoying himself. The hand looks even more slender and wand-like, but he does not seem to care who sees it.
I wish I could learn what he stood for, how he lived. If you're cool with something, most everybody else will be, too. And if they're not - they lose.
If I keep practicing it for the rest of my life, maybe I'll get it.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Who's that smile?
Just a few seconds in time. . . A candid shot of Harold Lloyd strolling along the beach, exuding health and confidence and enjoying the day.
These times, they will never come again.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Harold Lloyd: Vrruckter Millwoch!
As I trudge through the (first round, only) edit of my novel, The Glass Character, which involves the very dishy but dead silent comedian Harold Lloyd, and as I (sometimes) wonder why I wrote the thing in the first place, it being so problematic in the editing process, I must refresh my mania for said Harold Lloyd by poking into some very strange promotional material indeed.
I think this one is for his last movie, a flop called The Sin of Harold Diddlebock, which involved a yellow plaid suit and a lion. The lion has been cut off the bottom for reasons unknown, which is too bad because I think this might have made a handsome poster if it had been left whole. It looks to be in German, using the alternate title Mad Wednesday. Either way, the movie wasn't very good, though that title (in German, at least) is something memorable.
You might find this title on an Ikea poster. Things look a little out of proportion here: the cops are waving their sticks at him, which they never did in Safety Last!. So I honestly don't know what this is about. He looks like he's sitting on a very large rectangular cube of some sort. No clock in sight. Or could it be Mad Wednesday, where he does some aerial stunts, unfortunately all done with illusion?
This one I really like. It could be for Haunted Spooks, an early one I like, in which I think his hair stands on end. He looks very European in this, very French. Mildred Davis looks doll-like beside him, and she has red hair, which I don't think she did. But all in all, this is a good-looking, stylish poster with great use of colour.
This one is TOO abstract for my tastes. Most of the European posters are. I have no idea what language this is or what it means, though it must be Scandinavian. I don't know if he's swinging from a chain in this one, or falling. His legs look disturbingly fat, as if he is suffering from edema. His shoes look like lady shoes, let's face it, and what is that conelike red thing stuck to his feet?
This one is interesting in that it's in more than one language. Schaterlachen is definitely German, but Fous-Rires looks French to me, meaning crazy laughter. One of the photos in the glasses lens is from The Freshman, the other from Girl Shy. I don't know why this is after six years of studying Lloyd, but I know a lot about him, though I am not allowed to let it show, or I am cut down to size as if it's an embarrassment. Must be karma.
This one is called The Fox Hunt.I don't remember a Lloyd film with that name, but there is one - I think it's called Among Those Present - in which he must pass himself off as a gentleman capable of riding the meanest horse in the stable so he can impress his girl on a fox hunt. I think he gets her in the end.
Filmtosset! So what's a filmtosset? Nobody knows. Is that a rocket going off, or what? No, it's a spotlight of some sort. He looks to be landing on his ass with a briefcase, so who knows what it's about. Oh! Maybe it's Movie Crazy, one of his early talkies. In that case, I'll pass.
I've saved the best till last. Here is a lovely poster, an almost perfect match for a photo publicity shot (below), for the movie I Do (translated as Un Heureux Mari: a happy or lucky husband). It isn't just the charming drawing of the two of them in the kitchen, he tending to a broken plate, nor the saturated colors, but the inclusion of a nickname Lloyd wore for a very long time in Europe: Lui. Meaning: him. You know who I mean, that guy, the regular fellow. The regular fellow who captured the world.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)