I had started this blog almost a year ago with the intention of doing movie reviews, however with the sudden stroke and then death of my grandmother, and the work and stress that came with it I really wasn't up too doing much of anything as a result.
But now it's 2014, and I really, really do want too do this.
SO! To that end I have decided on a format. Rather than just "whatever" or having a cutoff date I'm going too introduce Random Movie Reviews. Much like Paw Dugan (don't kill me for using your name please) and his dart board, we're going too let Chaos decide what happens next.
And in the grandest of my DnD playing past traditions, we're going too let the die decide
Once a week I'm going too pick a movie from four sources, rolled on a four sider. 1. Personal Collection, 2. Family Collection, 3. Netflix, 4 Hulu.
Then we'll roll a d20 for the first 20 movies from each. Once a movie is done we'll put it on the list.
The only caveat is for movies in the box office, which I will review given the opportunity.
So! With that in mind lets get started...
Roll d4: 2 Family Collection!
Roll d20: 16 Los Locos vs The Big Bad Wolves
...fuck.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Friday, March 8, 2013
Goodbye
At the end of December, a few days before New Years, I had gotten up to get a drink and let out our dog. My grandmother was awake and watching TV. We exchanged a couple words, I'd asked her too go to bed, and she wished me a good night and that we'd see each other in the morning.
This was the last full, spoken conversation I had with her; a few short hours later she had suffered a major stroke.
I had to shovel snow out of the way for the paramedics to get into the house. For the next month she slowly recovered in the hospital. She was later deemed well enough to be moved to a specialist care hospital to receive rehab before moving to a more long term facility. We celebrated her 80th birthday with her in the hospital.
I last saw my Grandmother on March 2nd. She was active, lively, and while the stroke had effected her left side she was still in there, even though she couldn't speak. She could mouth the words, though (I'm unfortunately bad at lip reading) and called for a pen and paper. She wasn't able to write well, but the sheer fact that she was able to do so at all felt like a major victory. I had no doubt at the time that she WOULD recover and be able to come home eventually.
Last Wednesday morning, shortly after being moved to the long term care facility, she had a cardiac arrest. My mother flew up...I couldn't stay at the hospital, and on a few short hours of sleep went to work. I've never been good at waiting, and the prognosis...was not good.
Yesterday morning, after a long, full life, surrounded by her children, my Grandmother passed away.
She could be ornery, she could be stubborn, but she loved her family. She would always be there to babysit, or to lend a helping hand if needed. She saved me from being homeless after a paperwork screw up with my VA Benefits left me without money to pay my rent while in college. Having her there to see me graduate was one of the prouder moments of my life. She got to see my sister's wedding and her first great grandchild, she will miss my brother's, but met his fiance and her son. She saw me return safely from war, and her other grandchildren join the Air Force.
There was also drama, but I will not speak of that. She was a tower in our lives.
One of the gifts I received from her was a small, paperback edition of Rudyard Kipling's Barrack-Room Ballads. I had been in the Army a short time and discovered that Kipling's works covered far more than The Jungle Book, and despite not being much for poetry herself, when she learned of things we liked she'd go out of her way to get them. It was with me in every foreign desert that I was deployed too, I still have it on the shelf above me. Worn, beaten, but survived everything I did. It's one of the most treasured things I have ever been given from her. The last poem in it is not a poem about soldiers like the rest of the book, but a hymn entitled L'Envoi:
When Earth's last picture is panted and the tubes
are twisted and dried,
When the oldest colours have faded, and the
youngest critic has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it - lie
down for an aeon or two,
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall put
us to work anew!
And those that were good shall be happy: they
shall sit in a golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with
brushes of comets' hair;
They shall find real saints to draw from-
Magdalene, Peter, and Paul;
They shall work for an age at a sitting and never
be tired at all!
And only the Master shall praise us, and only the
Master shall blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one
shall work for fame,
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in
his seperate star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of
Things as They Are!
God Bless you, Grandma Betty. We miss you and love you so much words fail.
This was the last full, spoken conversation I had with her; a few short hours later she had suffered a major stroke.
I had to shovel snow out of the way for the paramedics to get into the house. For the next month she slowly recovered in the hospital. She was later deemed well enough to be moved to a specialist care hospital to receive rehab before moving to a more long term facility. We celebrated her 80th birthday with her in the hospital.
I last saw my Grandmother on March 2nd. She was active, lively, and while the stroke had effected her left side she was still in there, even though she couldn't speak. She could mouth the words, though (I'm unfortunately bad at lip reading) and called for a pen and paper. She wasn't able to write well, but the sheer fact that she was able to do so at all felt like a major victory. I had no doubt at the time that she WOULD recover and be able to come home eventually.
Last Wednesday morning, shortly after being moved to the long term care facility, she had a cardiac arrest. My mother flew up...I couldn't stay at the hospital, and on a few short hours of sleep went to work. I've never been good at waiting, and the prognosis...was not good.
Yesterday morning, after a long, full life, surrounded by her children, my Grandmother passed away.
She could be ornery, she could be stubborn, but she loved her family. She would always be there to babysit, or to lend a helping hand if needed. She saved me from being homeless after a paperwork screw up with my VA Benefits left me without money to pay my rent while in college. Having her there to see me graduate was one of the prouder moments of my life. She got to see my sister's wedding and her first great grandchild, she will miss my brother's, but met his fiance and her son. She saw me return safely from war, and her other grandchildren join the Air Force.
There was also drama, but I will not speak of that. She was a tower in our lives.
One of the gifts I received from her was a small, paperback edition of Rudyard Kipling's Barrack-Room Ballads. I had been in the Army a short time and discovered that Kipling's works covered far more than The Jungle Book, and despite not being much for poetry herself, when she learned of things we liked she'd go out of her way to get them. It was with me in every foreign desert that I was deployed too, I still have it on the shelf above me. Worn, beaten, but survived everything I did. It's one of the most treasured things I have ever been given from her. The last poem in it is not a poem about soldiers like the rest of the book, but a hymn entitled L'Envoi:
When Earth's last picture is panted and the tubes
are twisted and dried,
When the oldest colours have faded, and the
youngest critic has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it - lie
down for an aeon or two,
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall put
us to work anew!
And those that were good shall be happy: they
shall sit in a golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with
brushes of comets' hair;
They shall find real saints to draw from-
Magdalene, Peter, and Paul;
They shall work for an age at a sitting and never
be tired at all!
And only the Master shall praise us, and only the
Master shall blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one
shall work for fame,
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in
his seperate star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of
Things as They Are!
God Bless you, Grandma Betty. We miss you and love you so much words fail.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Les Miserable Makes Me Cry
It's true, as soon as Act III comes along, and Cosette and all them are all growed up, the minute it reaches Eponine I start tearing up like a little girl.
Incidentally I went to see Les Miserable this last Monday.
(Who'd a guessed?!)
Anyway, I know that there are various film reviews coming out about how mediocre as a film it is, and that yaddayaddayaddaopinionstuff.
I want to give my take on it, so put all that aside for now as you read this, gentlereaders, but first a bit of background.
For years the only bit of the musical I had was the Original London Cast Recording on CD that I had gotten in my Drum Corps days, I think it was 1996. I'd never seen the play, and managed to steer clear of the film adaptations for fear of them spoiling those recordings. I had no idea it was more of an opera than a musical, I didn't care. Colm Wilkinson was the fuckin' man, HE was Jean Valjean, and that was it. I didn't know that there were more songs than what was on the recording in the play, but hey, it told the whole story. Hell, I could envision it in my head, and that was enough.
And yet, for all that, I was tear free. I still liked Eponine the best, though.
I missed the Tenth Anniversary Concert, but years later managed to get a hold of it...and then it started. As soon as "In My Life" hits I'm in tears.
Les Miserable the film adaptation of the musical had the same effect.
It's not just the music, it's the whole of the film succeeding in evoking emotion, or maybe it's just me. Yeah, there were alterations from the play to the musical, but except for some line changes and switches they weren't an issue.
And a fan or not, being drawn in like that despite what reviews I had seen had said, having that effect on me means a lot. I cared, I gave a damn, and that's what a good film is supposed to make you do. Russell Crowe was a decent Javert (Even though his voice lacked the authority the character calls for) I had no issues with Hugh Jackman as Valjean.
The direction was...well...Look, Mr Hooper, honestly the dutch angles worked for me...but goddamn, you paid all that money on EXCELLENT set design and production, SHOW IT! It shouldn't be Les Closeup!
And who the hell knew Anne Hathaway had that voice?
That all being said, go see it. I can't guarantee you'll like it, some of you purists won't. And if you don't like musicals, well, as I said this is more an opera, so it's 98% singing. All I can say is that the cast and crew put their all into it, and came out with something they can be proud of regardless of awards. Your mileage may vary, though, depending on preferences.
In other news I'm still working on the film review I intended to be the first here, but researching an almost 50 year old film is proving rather hard, and I have to watch it again. I don't want it to be a rote summary, as it's one of my favorite films of all time so I want to do it right.
Until next time, mes amis.
Incidentally I went to see Les Miserable this last Monday.
(Who'd a guessed?!)
Anyway, I know that there are various film reviews coming out about how mediocre as a film it is, and that yaddayaddayaddaopinionstuff.
I want to give my take on it, so put all that aside for now as you read this, gentlereaders, but first a bit of background.
For years the only bit of the musical I had was the Original London Cast Recording on CD that I had gotten in my Drum Corps days, I think it was 1996. I'd never seen the play, and managed to steer clear of the film adaptations for fear of them spoiling those recordings. I had no idea it was more of an opera than a musical, I didn't care. Colm Wilkinson was the fuckin' man, HE was Jean Valjean, and that was it. I didn't know that there were more songs than what was on the recording in the play, but hey, it told the whole story. Hell, I could envision it in my head, and that was enough.
And yet, for all that, I was tear free. I still liked Eponine the best, though.
I missed the Tenth Anniversary Concert, but years later managed to get a hold of it...and then it started. As soon as "In My Life" hits I'm in tears.
Les Miserable the film adaptation of the musical had the same effect.
It's not just the music, it's the whole of the film succeeding in evoking emotion, or maybe it's just me. Yeah, there were alterations from the play to the musical, but except for some line changes and switches they weren't an issue.
And a fan or not, being drawn in like that despite what reviews I had seen had said, having that effect on me means a lot. I cared, I gave a damn, and that's what a good film is supposed to make you do. Russell Crowe was a decent Javert (Even though his voice lacked the authority the character calls for) I had no issues with Hugh Jackman as Valjean.
The direction was...well...Look, Mr Hooper, honestly the dutch angles worked for me...but goddamn, you paid all that money on EXCELLENT set design and production, SHOW IT! It shouldn't be Les Closeup!
And who the hell knew Anne Hathaway had that voice?
That all being said, go see it. I can't guarantee you'll like it, some of you purists won't. And if you don't like musicals, well, as I said this is more an opera, so it's 98% singing. All I can say is that the cast and crew put their all into it, and came out with something they can be proud of regardless of awards. Your mileage may vary, though, depending on preferences.
In other news I'm still working on the film review I intended to be the first here, but researching an almost 50 year old film is proving rather hard, and I have to watch it again. I don't want it to be a rote summary, as it's one of my favorite films of all time so I want to do it right.
Until next time, mes amis.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Yowza
This is my blog!
There are other blogs like it!
But his one is mine!
Wonderful, now that we've gotten the obligatory Full Metal Jacket reference out of the way, let me tell you who I am.
I am known on the internet areas where I reside as The Dagda, I love movies, music, games, TV shows, Anime, and all that other kind of stuff you see reviewed on thatguywiththeglasses.com or on thespoonyexperiment.com or reviewtopia.com or wherever else you go to get someone kavetching about stuff from when they grew up and how bad/good they were.
The reason for this blog is that I want to get in on the bandwagon I wanted to share my thoughts and feelings on the stuff I've loved and seen over the years. I need an outlet to share my writing that I'm doing, and I fully admit I'm coming in late to the game.
But you know what? Who the hell cares! This is my thing, and hopefully going to be shared with some friends of mine if they agree to it. I have some high hopes, and we'll see what pans out.
Entries here may be sporadic, but I'm going to try and do one at least once a week. For those of you who see me on IRC all the time you may feel free to whip me if I stray from this course.
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