Found

I recall many years ago reading an interview with John Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten of The Sex Pistols) in a Smash Hits magazine. He mentioned that one of his early jobs was working in the sewers. The interviewer asked what he did there. "Were you killing rats?" he asked.

"No", Lydon answered, "I was studying humanity".

Ok, so this piece isn't quite so harsh as that, but along similar lines. It concerns a gem I discovered on another one of my date nights at the Indigo magazine room.

"Found Magazine" is a collection of just that: stuff people have found. Papers littering the sidewalk, things pulled from garbage cans or recycle bins, forgotten stuff that's left behind on a bus seat or a park bench. They could be letters, resumes, flyers, birthday cards, shopping lists, notebooks or cassette tapes. The only criteria seems to be that (a) it was discovered somewhere and that (b) the original author/owner is not known to the person who found it. The magazine publishes photocopies of the found items, usually including a brief note as to where the item was found, or an a bit of conjecture about the meaning of the item.

This is modern day archaeology, askewed.

"Found" is a profound look at the mundane. It takes the ephemera of everyday life out of context, and through the absence of context assigns new meaning. Each piece becomes its own little mystery and your mind begins to fill-in the blanks with the "who, what, where, when and why". Sometimes the result is hilarious. Sometimes it's terrifying. Sometimes it's downright poetic. Truthfully, there is more meaningful observation in these pages than I've seen in a few literary journals. The best way to describe "Found" is "incongruous". In what seems like garbage one can find strange insight into the human condition.

If you're the voyeuristic type (and really, who isn't?) some of the stuff reprinted in the magazine is fascinating. For example, check out this note left on a windshield in a weird case of mistaken identity. From out of this one simple bit of poison pen, a human drama unfolds...

As they say, "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", but notice the "page me later"...? She still loves him. This girl is seriously conflicted.

Issue #1 includes a poignant look at things found from the World Trade Centre after 9/11, which is surprisingly respectful, not stooping to morbid curiosity. There's also an interview with indie comic artist / author Lynda Barry, who is a self-proclaimed "scrounger" of found things. Another point of interest in this issue is "Cheeseburger in Paradise": a travel journal logging a particularly bland vacation in Hawaii. It becomes interesting when you begin to see the author partially as the typical "ugly American" stereotype, but also as just simple person with a mundane yet somehow satisfying life, and small aspirations.

If you're the type of person who likes to look for meaning in life's small moments, you'll love "Found". But it's not all deep: some of it is just baffling, goofy shit. I'm dying to listen to "Booty Time by the Ypsilanti All-Starz", a found cassette of 14 booty-rap anthems. And I'm anxiously awaiting the upcoming special issue of "Found" that promises to reprint the 40 page letter (!) by the paranoid license-plate woman.

http://www.foundmagazine.com/

Confessions of an Exhibitionist

When I was a child one of the biggest annual events in my life was the Exhibition. It didn't matter that it signalled the end of summer and the start of the school year -- the promise of over priced rides, un-winable games and cotton candy more than made up for it. To my child's mind, there was really nothing more exciting than a fair or Exhibition. And I went to a lot of them, usually with my grandfather, my father and my cousin. I was never really into the scary rides. My favourite memory was a ride that was like a merry-go-round, only instead of horses it was cars and motorcycles. I remember in particular a car with dark green sparkly paint that I loved. I liked to play games too. I don't recall ever winning anything big, but my cousin often did. One year he won a stuffed doll that was a silver robot and it made me crazy jealous.

Later, as a teen, the Exhibition became part of my warped romantic fantasy life. To go to the Exhibition with friends after dark seemed incredibly cool. I suppose it was the crowds and the neon lights and the noise, but for a few hours you could pretend you were somewhere other than the little jerkwater town you were living in. Maybe it was just my first exposure to the seedy underbelly of small town life that seemed dangerously appealing to me. There always seemed to be lots of gruff & unfamiliar faces trudging around in the dark, hordes of teenagers wound-up and hormonal, often itching for a fight, and of course the always suspicious looking "carnies". One year I remember a common prize given out at the games were small mirrors with different heavy metal bands stamped on them. Another year a prize was feathered roach clips. As a grew older, I became more cognizant of how skeezy and over-priced the Exhibition actually was and I stopped going. To this day, I still have vivid memories of the last time I went to the Exhibition as a teen. In my mind's eye, this song is an excellent snapshot of how I kind of remember it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHYt-GKzfF0

Perhaps it's just a sign of changing times, but it seems the Exhibition just isn't as big of a deal as it used to be. Now the fairgrounds are much smaller, it stays in town for only a couple of days and it seems very few people bother to go (myself included). Apparently they don't even charge an admission fee anymore, which indicates a drop in attendance. Maybe the reason is because our society isn't a "rural" as it used to be; the agricultural and livestock exhibits aren't as meaningful to us city folk. Would winning a "blue ribbon" impress anyone you know? And our sense of community just isn't the same as it used to be: no one in the city goes to the Exhibition to socialize with their neighbours. Perhaps another factor is that kids today have a lot more options for entertainment and recreation than when I was a child. Satellite tv, the internet, video games offer distraction that just wasn't available in the past. And I suppose if they're really feeling nostalgic for the midway, most families can take a vacation anytime of the year and visit a theme park for rides and games. Even the junk food that you used to only be able to get at the Exhibition -- cotton candy, pink popcorn, pogos, etc -- can be found year-round in other places. So, it seems that all the things that made the Exhibition special are becoming obsolete.

One of these days, just for old time's sake, I think I'll enter something in an exhibit, just to see if I can win a "blue ribbon".

"Somebody save me"

When did "Smallville" go from being one of the most enjoyable shows on tv to one of the most ridiculous? Admittedly, it's never been great drama, but it's gone from being a guilty pleasure to just plain guilty.

Let's backtrack for a minute, and talk about what made the show so great:

If you're not familiar with "Smallville", the basic premise of the show is it is a "no tights, no flights" story about the early days of Clark Kent living in Smallville, Kansas before he becomes Superman. As the series begins, Clark is an awkward and slightly geeky farm boy who is dealing with the typical adolescent problems (unrequited crush on the girl next door, high school bullies, etc.) when he starts discovering that he's "different" -- actually, he seems to be superhuman. As he explores his powers he confronts his parents and gradually learns of his mysterious origins. According to this interpretation, baby Clark was an alien who landed on earth, bringing with him a "meteor shower" that ravaged the little farm town in Kansas and changed the lives of everyone there. It eventually becomes apparent that a side effect of the "meteor rocks" (kryptonite) is it can mutate anyone who has been exposed to them, so the little town of Smallville has a disproportionate number of freaks. Naturally this all gives Clark an enormous guilt complex, intense feelings of alienation (no pun intended!), a sense of responsibility and of course a new mutant powered villain to fight every week.

The early seasons of the show were, frankly, beautiful. Just as Clark was in the full bloom of youth, every location in Smallville was bursting with lush colourful flowers, cozy pastoral farm scenes, small town life right out of Norman Rockwell and of course attractive young people. Well, plus meteor freaks. Still, there was something so compelling about those early years of the show, regardless of whether you're a comic book geek or not. And if you were familiar with the comic, watching the drama unfold was all the more delicious: how did Clark and Lex Luthor become enemies? How did his romance with Lana Lang start, and why did they break up? When is Clark going to start wearing glasses...?

Of course, "Smallville" was always the type of show that required a HUGE suspension of disbelief. Sometimes it was extremely far-fetched and absurd (the Kent family must own that room in the hospital because one of them was admitted every week!). Sometimes the acting or the writing was bad (whenever the story involved "red kryptonite" it got cringe-worthy!) and the occasional episode could be embarrassing to watch (remember Lana in the vampire sorority?) Again, I admit it was never high drama, but it was great escapist fun. And in it's own way it could be dramatic and touching. Try watching Jonathan Kent's funeral and not feel sad. Perhaps the greatest strength of "Smallville" was in its character development. "Smallville" was the first time I ever considered Superman to be an interesting character: a person with actual flaws, feelings and emotional baggage. And watching Lex Luthor was the "nature VS nurture" debate in motion: was he just born with evil genes, or did years of no one believing in him turn him into a monster? Pretty interesting stuff to attempt in a fluffy teen drama.

As with all shows that drag on long past their "best before" date, "Smallville" changed, and evolved into something very different from how it started. Every season had it's gold and it's dogs. I'm not sure I can exactly pinpoint where the show began to unravel for me. The developers/creative force behind the show, Alfred Gough and Miles Millar, left the series in 2008, hinting around at a struggle to maintain their creative vision of the show. Add to it, both Lex Luthor and his father Lionel (to me, the most interesting characters) were killed off. Clark and friends are all grown up now and working in Metropolis (begging the question, how is it really "Smallville" anymore?). The "no tights, no flights" rule has gone out the window with the introduction of a myriad of DC characters (Green Arrow --in costume-- is now a series regular, and there have been appearances by various others from the long-johns set). Generally, the show seems to have less & less basis in reality every time I see it, and as much I enjoy fantasy I do need some shred of credibility.

"Smallville" season 8 is out on DVD and for the first time in the entire series run I'm not in a great hurry to run out & buy it. (DVD has been my only access to the show, apart from sporadic episodes I've seen at other people's houses). Based on the few snippets I saw of season 8 the show has become more "soap opera" than drama. Still, the nostalgic part of me is ready to plunk down $40 for it because I'd love to recapture that old feeling the series used to give me. Right now, I'm torn... my heart says "yes" but my head knows better!

Perfect!

Yes, We Have No Brains!

I realize that I seem to end up talking about vampires quite frequently on this blog and I'm not really sure why... so let's give some equal time to the current horror flavour of the month: zombies.

Why are zombies so popular? Well, for one thing, they are probably the most "sex, drugs and rock n roll" of all the standard horror monsters. If you don't believe me, just take a close look at some of the legendary guitar gods and you'll see what I mean. Unlike vampires, zombies aren't sexy. They have hard living (and hard dying) written all over them. Their existence is completely from the gut, instinctual and "do as you please". Zombies just do not give a fuck about anything except for one thing: their addiction. Their whole motivation is getting their next fix. And they don't care what kind of abuse they have to suffer to get it. As for the "sex" part, well they're totally into "flesh"... only in their case, they just happen to feed on it.

On the flip side, every zombie story has its hero. The few, or the one, who wades through the mindless mob; the lone fighter in the sea of rotting humanity. Natural selection has given them the uncanny mix of brains, brawn and good luck and they manage to survive. Perhaps we identify with these characters, our feelings of alienation or individualism: "us against them", the age old conflict of man versus society. Or maybe we want to be them. Who doesn't want to be a survivor?

Beyond all that though, I think the real appeal is that at the heart of every zombie story lies a conspiracy theory. For every Raccoon City there has to be an Umbrella Corporation. Who doesn't love a juicy conspiracy theory? Every zombie outbreak can be blamed on the two most obvious perpetrators: big business or science. And who better to blame? It only confirms our suspicions that both are too rich, too powerful, and too secretive. While they play God our lives hang in the balance. Now, wouldn't a zombie outbreak be the ultimate "I told you so!"

Personally, my favourite zombie flick is "28 Days Later". For one thing, the idea of a "rage virus" strikes me as being plausible (in fact, some days I'm convinced I suffer from it myself!). Well, more plausible than waking the dead at any rate! Probably my favourite scene in the movie is when Jim, our survivor, first leaves the hospital and walks through the completely deserted London. The mood is strange and chilling, and probably one of the most effective I've ever seen in a horror film. According to my husband, the scene represents a utopia because there are no people. (He's a misanthropic sort!).

Over the past year or so I've been enjoying a variety of titles in "The Mammoth Book of..." series. These are thick anthologies on specific genres, the ones I get are different genres of comics but they make other titles as well. Admittedly, some of the stories collected therein aren't necessarily the "best" but they do cover a broad, international spectrum. The thing I enjoy most about the Mammoth Book series is that you get a nice sample of writers and artists that you might not have otherwise heard of and some of them are quite good.

In "The Mammoth Book of Zombie Comics" the gem for me was the multi-part "Dead Eyes Open" by Matthew Shepheard and Roy Boney Jr. Apparently the story came out of a failed internet project called DEADIES. This is a zombie story with a twist. Here, the zombies are rational, sentient, multi-faceted characters and the story is rather complex. Without giving away too much, the story creates a society where zombies have become a "race" and like any other minority group must the struggle for their rights and freedoms, rebel against the system and deal with prejudice. And Wil Wheaton is a character in it. Seriously. Check it out sometime.

In closing, a prediction: The next big thing will be werewolves. You've heard it here first.

In other news

This has been another crazy busy couple of weeks. I've been working longer hours and by the time I get home I am just ready to crash. So, once again I'm making excuses for not writing any new articles. Hopefully I'll have some new reviews soon. I've been reading some interesting things that I'm going to share later. In the meantime, here are some more random snippets of news, observations and free-floating hostility.

The loser cruiser. I've started commuting to and from work on the bus and I'm absolutely loving it. It gives me a good 30 minutes in the morning and again at the end of the day to unwind, listen to music, stare out the window. The walk home from my stop takes another 10 or 15 minutes, so I feel it gives me a bit more exercise too. Not sure how much I'll like it come winter but right now it is great. When I'm on the bus, I feel like I'm doing a good thing and besides, I really don't care to drive as much as I used to. I'm gradually freeing myself from the slavery of the automobile. My mind wanders on the bus too. I look around at the other people, these commuters all going off to fulfill their designated roles in society and I start to question my own place in it. I guess it gets a little deep.

Unfit parent. Today I was mistaken for an unfit mother. And yes, I probably would be if I had any kids. Today I ran into a friend and her 6 month old son. We talked for a while, then she told me she was on her way to the market to meet someone for lunch however, the elevator was out of order so she couldn't get the stroller there via the pedway. As plan B she was going to walk outside but it was teeming rain, so it didn't really seem like an option either. I offered to help out: one of us go up the escalator with the baby, the other with the stroller. Given the choice, naturally I opted to take the stroller. So, off she goes with the baby. I try to take the stroller up the escalator but the wheel base is too wide to fit. Of course, a small line starts to form behind me. I'd rather carry it up the stairs but it's a big, awkward stroller, too unwieldy for one person to carry. Thinking that I'm some helpless mother all by myself, some good Samaritan offers to help me carry it up the stairs, so she grabs the front and up we go. She quickly notices that the stroller is empty. "Where's the baby?" she asks. Seeing my friend coming back down the escalator I reply "Probably right behind us." The lady looks. "I don't see any baby...?" To which I reply: "Oh. Then I don't know." She gives me a slightly horrified look. At this point, she's probably thinking that, at best, I'm some crazy lady pushing around an empty baby carriage and at worst, that I've neglectfully let my toddler wander off into a crowd of strangers to be abducted. A quick glance around I see my friend's lunch date over in the corner holding the baby. So I did point him out to her.

"Mad about the boy..." My obsession with classic movies continues. I've been revisiting a lot of them in my off-time lately. This week my copy of the "Centennial edition" 2-disc version of "Sunset Boulevard" finally arrived. It is one of my all-time favourites, and watching it again I remembered why. (Note to self: I should blog about the awesomeness of it and film noir generally later.) It was the first time hubby had seen it and frankly I think he was more than a little horrified by it. Now he's finally seen the source of many of my creepy Norma Desmond-isms and jokes about our older woman/younger man relationship that I've been teasing him with for the past 8 years.


















Red thumb? The house has been taking up a lot of my time and energy lately too. Specifically, I am obsessed with improving the backyard and I will not rest until it is done! This is only aggravated by the ridiculous amount of rain we've gotten this summer. I am gagging to stain the deck and fence and plant something in that mud hole back there but the weather will not co-operate so I just can't get at it. When it does stop raining everything is dripping and mucky, and any activity just stirs up the bugs. It's not like I have a "green thumb" or any idea what I'm doing back there... I just know that it's f-ugly and it bothers me. I have a vision in my mind of what I want it to look like. Whether I have the skill to bring it off is doubtful. If any of you out there have any gardening skills or a particular flair for landscaping, please let me know! Last weekend I had a window of 2 hours of sunshine. I went out with my rake and got bitten by a huge mosquito and later, bitten by a spider. I'm still waiting for the proportional strength and web slinging to kick in.

I realize we've been neglectful about inviting people over to see the new place. We don't mean to be rude, we've just been busy. Honestly, it works best when people just invite themselves over! And I've been obsessing that certain things (like the backyard) are not up to standards yet and I'd like people to see them only once they are.

It's a total Disaster!

"There's a moment you know

You're fucked."

- "Totally Fucked" from Spring Awakening

Do you remember the trend of disaster movies from the 1970s? "Airport", "The Poseidon Adventure", "Gray Lady Down", "Earthquake"...the list goes on and on. Usually they featured a large ensemble cast of big name stars, and the plots followed different "threads" of characters that eventually pull together in the end as they all try to survive. I remember seeing quite a few of these movies at the drive-in as a kid. I wonder what was going on in the culture at the time that made these so popular? Did it have something to do with the Cold War? Was there a growing distrust of technology? A fear of mass transportation? Some reason to think "the end is near"? I'll have to bone up on my 70s history. I'd be interested in figuring it out.

The other night I brought out "The Towering Inferno" for our movie date night. Actually, this one was pretty damn good. And despite the inclusion of OJ Simpson, has a great cast. Although surprisingly low celebrity death toll in it. (I certainly didn't expect Fred Astaire to dance his way out of that one!) This movie is such a huge homage to firefighters, I'm frankly surprised that no one in Hollywood attempted to remake this one after 9/11.

In the 90s, there seemed to be a revival of the disaster movie: "Titanic", "Twister", "Armageddon", "Deep Impact" to name a few. People have always been fascinated with tragedy, and the more epic the scale the better. (Notice the introduction of disasters from outer space, so we don't just have Mother Nature or human stupidity to worry about anymore!) Hollywood loves to tap into our fears and paranoias, doesn't it? In the conflict of Man versus Nature we are horribly outmatched. Unlike the 70s disaster movies, these more recent movies seemed to focus on small groups of characters or individuals, rather than the big superstar casts. Looking back, I wonder if it was the fear of Y2K and the anxiety of the impending "end of the world", and the growing awareness of our ecological problems that sparked the interest in disaster movies again?

Similarly, movies and television in the 70s were fascinated by "the Bermuda Triangle". I often recall it as an often used plot device: airplanes mysteriously vanishing into the Bermuda Triangle and the travelers are gone forever. It was the geographical equivalent of oblivion. Whatever happened to that? Has our modern technology finally outwitted the ominous Triangle? Does anything disappear into it anymore? I just don't seem to hear about it as much anymore.

Count Dracula's Secret Ice Lollies

Finally, I feel validated.

For years I've been harping on about the short-lived "Dracula" ice cream bar from the 70s. As I recall they were a purple (grape?) popsicle shell, vanilla ice cream filling and a red jelly type of centre. I only remember having them a couple of times and then they disappeared. Whenever I'd get into one of those "do you remember..."/"whatever happened to..." conversations I'd mention them but no one else could recall them. I was starting to think I'd invented the things!

Not anymore.

As it turns out, they were actually called "Count Dracula's Secret". Whodda thought?

http://cobwebbedroom.blogspot.com/2007/08/count-draculas-secret-ice-lolly-ads.html

Thank you Paul from the Cob Webbed Room, David from the Do You Remember forum for the picture and to Christian, Lawrence and Karyn for helping me finally track it down!

Of course, at the same time I now feel a slight tinge of sadness. Yet another of my life's elusive mysteries solved. Without the seeking, what is left?



Where is the Life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?
The cycles of Heaven in twenty centuries
bring us farther from God and nearer to the Dust.
- T.S. Eliot

Update

Ok, so I haven't forgotten about this blog! I've just been super busy lately but I hope to settle down & write something new soon.

What I will say for now: Home ownership is both satisfying and very tiring! It takes a lot of time and hard work to make a house into your "home".