taking fire

Rejoice! The NY Asian Film Festival comes around again. A quick history so far:

• 2006 (while visiting Caitlin) had the life-changing Funky Forest, the solid Linda! x 3 and the supremely-titled Oh! My Zombie Mermaid.
• 2007 I was in London, so getting to the venues was problematic.
• 2008 was memorable for the devastating sweetness of the Tokyo… films (where I won the signed poster), and Tarantino mucking about in Sukiyaki Western Django (where I won the water pistol, later to be fuelled with bourbon).

After hacking through the schedule superlatives I’ve booked tickets for these shows, so feel free to ping me if you’d like to come along:

• 20th Century Boys (part 1 on June 21, part 2 on July 4)
• The Warlords (23rd)
• Yoroi: Samurai Zombie (26th)
• Five Deadly Venoms (28th)
• Hard Revenge Milly (30th)
• The Magic Hour (July 1st)
• Love Exposure (3rd)

Phew. Then after that it’s the Revisiting Tarkosvky series at the Lincoln Center. A good time for cinema.

Who’s been to Japan? Recommend me some unmissable things to do or places to go. I’m going there tomorrow for 2 weeks, will be going to all the big cities.

Controversially I didn’t reflexively log into LotRO this morning and instead did something vaguely creative. Over on the joy of damage I posted an actual short story that I done wrote. One caveat: I put it together it a long time ago*. I won’t say too much other than that – I think (hope) it’s still pretty readable.

Notice it’s a couple of thousand words so I’d get a cup of tea first. It’s called The Doll’s House.

* like, in the 90s. I know!

A few weeks ago it was actually sunny for the first time in months, if still a bit crispy and cold. With glee I took the board out and recorded myself failing for educational purposes. It turned out to be an interesting wee clip so I youtubed it for your amusement.

I won’t embed it here, it’s better to go and watch it in proper HD glory, ideally in full screen.

I can now say with some enthusiasm that video editing is bananas fun. Making subtitles is a total pain in the arse, however.

Enjoy!

It’s early Autumn, and still warm as the evening begins to draw over. You’re walking home from work, treading the last familiar steps westward on 22nd Street. Thinking about reaching for your keys, there in the bag slung over your shoulder.

Up ahead, a group of four men are approaching. Tanned white skin, neat haircuts, casual smiles, styled clothes, maybe in their forties. You guess they’ve been out somewhere.

As you clock this, from across the road a slim black guy steps into your view, also heading west, walking on intercept. Unseasonably heavy jacket, red baseball cap, a bulky backpack. Reaching the pavement ahead of you, he steps into the personal space of the group. He’s brandishing a spray of money; from their faces, he’s saying something. The group reflexes, convulsing away from him without eye contact, continues without slowing down. As they reach you they politely make a space and are gone to either side.

The lone guy has stopped, turned to watch; it’s only a few seconds before you are upon him. He looks you up and down and addresses you immediately, with evident frustration.

“These foreigners, they don’t even speak English. They think I’m gonna rob them, even though I got my own money,” he insists, conspicuously holding out the same bundle of notes. Folded length-ways; fifteen dollars, maybe.

“Where they from?” you ask, because you were curious yourself. You’re half-slowing, and listening to the neutral sound of the words coming out of your mouth.

“See I know you’re a New Yorker, cos you’re cool,” he asserts. He’s making a fairly safe bet: you’re looking preppy, smart shirt, white vest underneath, shoulder bag, walking confidently.

“Good night,” he offers as you pass.

“Cheers”, you conclude, demonstrating in one word how wrong he is.

Good news for gaming geeks everywhere – Spelunky is not unbeatable. Today I finished this lovable bastard of a game after many hours of swearing and outright fun.

It’s an Indiana Jones-inspired platformer. It’s difficult and unforgiving, but fair. It’s cute and well-animated. Like its predecessor Nethack, the content is randomly generated and throws up constant surprises.

If you’re feeling anarchic you get to rob shopkeepers, who in this game have completely evil AI and will chase you down with terrifying efficiency.

It has a whole bunch of Secret Stuff which you find out in pleasant moments of ‘oh, I see’ and by checking out the buzz on the official message board.

It will make gamers respect you and give you fingers of whisper-nimble adamantium.

It’s completely free and will run on old PCs. As you can see from my stats (which I assure you are pretty good), don’t expect too many wins per play…

Something harsh and insistent breaks your doze. It’s morning. Saturday.

The door is buzzing. You’re not expecting any packages and it has been a while; it must be that time again. In the studio apartment, your bedroom is the living room, the kitchen, the entranceway. You drag yourself up and pull on some jeans, topless, eyes half closed.

You open the door.

A man stands motionless on the other side. He is short, squat and appears to be made of lego. Smoothly squared and plastic underneath his navy-blue boiler suit, his scalp surely bearing a stubby cylinder of plastic to clip into headgear (today a navy cap). He is of recently Mexican descent.

“Morning. Exterminator. Any pro’lems boss?”

In the shared hallway behind The Exterminator are faded plaques, dusty certificates, telling of the facilities once provided by the landlord – SHALL BE PROVIDED TRAPS, DUSTED ONCE A FORTNIGHT – now twenty years old and reduced to what ought to be. The artifacts serve only as a reminder of the dangers lurking within the walls.

Mice, bedbugs, rats, cockroaches… waterbugs.

Of all creatures, the waterbug is the most terrifying. You are not at all clear on: the appearance; speed; possibility of darting movement, or alarming colouration of the waterbug, and are content never to find out.

When The Exterminator asks – as he always does – you know what he wants to hear.

“No pro’lems? No… waterbugs?”

In remote Exterminator villages, when the young males come of age they are sent alone into the great communal basements, to survive for three nights in the rustling, scuttling darkness. To emerge on the fourth day, alive and of sound mind, grasping a furious waterbug – one great black/white antenna coiling in each hand – is a great omen for the tribe.

Today he bears a canister proudly before him, a hand-pumped relic from the 1960s, battered steel and thin rubber hose. Politely brushes past you – a liquid clang, the squeak of the pump.

You rub your eyebrows, make an effort to remember.

“I’ve seen maybe one cockroach this month. I think they get in behind the fridge.”
“Big one?”
“Yeah big one, maybe like this.”

Beneath the cap his eyes fix on you. Or perhaps on something just behind you; antennae wave in currents of air.

“Like a… waterbug?”

The horror.

“No. No… definitely a cockroach.”

His look fades.

The Exterminator sees into people’s mornings; the pale, vulnerable underplates of Saturday. He is not fazed by nudity, by embarrassment, by odours. Ignoring the darkness, the mess, he squirts a clear liquid carefully behind the kitchen units, behind the fridge, into the uncertain space beneath the kitchen sink.

You stand awkwardly until a pencil appears from behind a solid ear and the familiar form is offered to you. Then your scrawled and bleary signature, a barely disappointed

“Thank you boss, have a good day,”

and The Exterminator is gone.

I’m back with a vengeance folks.

So I sent Aaron this email which I knew he’d find funny and he replied saying it was good TF material. The thought of posting it had never crossed my mind so blame him for this childish nonsense. If you start reading it and don’t find it funny then stop and go and do something else as the humour certainly does not improve any.

What follows is an exact email thread conducted yesterday by me and some former work colleagues, all professionals in the IT sector.

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So I’ve gone and joined another band…

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Air’s last post made me smile. I love these things. Would you like to know some facts about me? Well, I can’t promise they’ll be worth knowing but i’ll give it a good go.

1. My default frame of mind is bright and optimistic. I have shorter fuse than most though. Not something i’m proud of.

2. My mind absorbs numbers and superfluous data like a fat kid absorbs chips. I know most telephone numbers i’ve looked at a few times off by heart. Al’s old number in Saudi was 00966501613115, Aaron’s old number was 07900423577. I went on a date with a doctor once. She told me I was ‘on the autistic spectrum’. That’s not good date chat.

3. Catchy one-liners and concise phrasing turn me on and always have. I remember clearly standing up in the shopping trolley at pre-school age telling my mum to buy Vortex because ‘It Kills All Known Germs DEAD’. I loved thinking up clever taglines for ads at uni.

4. Being in the sea makes me feel elated. I grew up in the water. It’s the most magical element.

5. I learn most quickly when out of my comfort zone. I’d love to be more prolific with the gifts that I have. Lazyness is less acceptable the older you get.

6. My friend Lauren is always happy. Her philosophy is catchy and concise. ‘People are more important than things, relationships are more important than money’. She is wiser than me.

7. Hearing is on a par with sight. Music is more important to me than most things.

8. Erratic artwork appeals to me most. Pollock, Basquiat, Cabellut. Order terrifies me. I understand that it’s necessary but it freaks me out.

9. I can understand the argument for polyamory. Some people genuinely experience a need to be with more than one partner and are resolute about their partner’s right to do the same. I’m not one of them.

10. I have an irrational fear of the supernatural. It’s very silly but it genuinely terrifies me.