Movie Title Smooshes

I recently came across a list of movie title conflations we must have made up a while back. I'm sure many of them are not original to me and My Associate, but they are here reproduced for your amusement (?). For the more literary minded, I heartily recommend The Man Who Melted Jack Dann.

• Ordinary Cat People
• There's Something About Mary Shelley's Frankenstein
• Sky Captain and the Saddest Music in the World of Tomorrow
• Don't Cry It's Only Mad Max III: Beyond Thunderdome
• Henry V Element
• Futureshocker
• Fantastic Four Weddings and a Funeral
• Look Who's Talking Apocalypse Now
• O Super Mario Brothers, Where Art Thou
• Serenity and Sympathy
• Bring It On Golden Pond
• The First Wives' Fight Club
• My Life So Far and Away
• Evil Dead Again
• Best in Showgirls
• Creepshowgirls
• The Rocky Horror Picture Show V
• Blade 3 Men and a Baby
• All the President's Men Don't Leave
• And Justice for All the Pretty Horses
• They Shoot All the Pretty Horses, Don't They
• My Little Vampire Pony: The Movie
• The Man Who Knew Two Little Women
• Clara's Hart's War
• The Unbearable Lightness of Being John Malkovich
• Any Unforgiven Sunday
• Sunday in the Park with the Madness of King George
• Dr. Strange Brew
• Citizen Ruthless People
• Kramer Vs. Alien Vs. Predator Vs. Kramer (vs. Freddy vs. Jason vs Earth Vs. the Flying Saucers)
• Jesus Christ Super Star Wars
• Space Hunter: Adventures in Babysitting Across the Forbidden Zone

When Xoanon Was In [REDACTED] Lands

I was at the house I grew up in with My Associate, my mom and dad. A few friends were in town for a concert and were staying at the house. They stopped by in a van before the show. Then, suddenly about 100-200 of their closest friends also dropped by, unannounced. We turned off the lights and hid upstairs, quite perturbed at the presumption. Eventually the cops showed up in riot gear and put up two chain-link fences to hold back the crowds. The officer in charge informed me that due to a screw up whereby they'd also blocked off the other ends of the street, they'd have to take down the fences closest to our house to move the crowds out. I replied "Under _no circumstances_ let my people go!"

Beef Stew Recipe

• 2lbs lean stew beef, trimmed and cut ~1-2" cubes
  
• [use more or less of the below as you like, all together veggies are enough to fill an 8 cup measure]
  
  
  
  • 3-4 large Carrots peeled and chopped
    
  • 5-6 medium red Potatoes - quartered
    
  • 3-4 stalks Celery, chopped,
    
  • ~1 cup chopped onion
    
  
  
• 2 8oz cans tomato sauce
  
• 1 cup hot water, 1 beef bouillon cube optional
  
• 1/2 tablespoon thyme
  
• 1 tablespoon dried basil
  
• 1/4 tablespoon black pepper
  

In a paper bag or flat Tupperware container, add 1tbsp flour and a portion
of the beef at a time, shaking to coat.
Remove coated beef to platter, sprinkle with black pepper to taste.
In heavy kettle or pot, heat 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil.
Brown beef over low heat in oil.
When brown, add tomato sauce, water/bouillon and spices.
Simmer 45min-1hr at medium-to-low heat, stirring occasionally.
Add vegetables and enough water to cover.
Simmer until vegetables are done to taste, ~45 minutes.
Taste after ~30 min and add additional spices as needed.

The Fifty-Hit-Dice Spider

We live in a basement apartment, which is actually very nice (lots of light). But it does mean we get a lot of spiders. They vary in size and shape, predominantly the long-legged slow-moving kind. Occasionally we get some really big ones.

Once, as I was brushing my teeth, I noticed a truly colossal spider by the medicine cabinet.

Being somewhat prone to hyperbole anyway, I told My Associate "There's a fifty hit dice spider in here, don't be alarmed." As I didn't play D&D all that much growing up I didn't have a good sense of scale for hit dice.

My Associate, who is way more of a D&D geek than I am informed me "a fifty hit dice spider would be catching red dragons in its web".

We laughed.

River of Night's Dreaming

We were reading comics on the porch of a building, perhaps a loading dock. The wind was blowing them towards a river nearby which went down a rapids into another building where it was part of an elaborate artificial waterfall or sculpture that resembled (in part) a printing press.

There were bleachers in the building with people watching something. When I noticed the comics blowing into the river, a team of us went in undercover to shut down the sculpture so we could get access to retrieve the comics.

One particular comic was valuable; I felt a lot of anxiety that the wind had been blowing them from the porch for quite some time before we noticed.
In the building was also a room that looked like a lethal injection chamber.

There was one guy in particular was spearheading our operation. I expressed concern that a member of the cleaning staff was coming and would jeopardize our cover but he explained she was one of us.

I Totally Have Superpowers!

I dreamed that I was a detective at a crime scene. Someone ran up, knocked out my partner, stole our car and sped away. I followed on foot, effortlessly keeping up running. The perpetrator went the wrong way up an exit ramp, and flipped the car. I arrived to find him thrown to the side of the road. Amazingly, emergency responders were already there. I touched his head and revived him with a lavender light (of course it was lavender). I then demanded he tell me who'd sent him, and as an inducement to be more forthcoming, proceeded to drain and restore his life essence, causing him tremendous pain.

Wuthering High

I dreamed that I was an observer in court where Kate Bush, Pat Benatar and Another Male Rocker (who it was I don't recall) were on trial for cocaine possession. Kate and Pat broke into a duet version of Wuthering Heights and totally brought the house down. Ali Larter was seated behind me and was quite distraught when Male Rocker refused her request for an autograph.

My Head Comes Off. . .

Paula Poundstone is to blame.

In one of her routines she talked about having to babysit, and to entertain the kids told them that her head came off. The (perhaps too) credulous children quizzed her about the manner in which her head came off, etc.

At Disclave one year, this was seized upon. A friend posed the question "Yes, but what does your head do after it comes off?" Various permutations followed, including:

My head comes off and it's full of candy.

A few years later, this was translated into Swedish by another friend as:

Mitt huvud trillar av och det är fullt av godis.

Imagine my shock and surprise when I found this very phrase -- a phrase which I thought for sure had no currency outside a very small circle of friends from college -- in Omniglot.com (look under 'Swedish').

When I read this, my head came off.

When It Came

"When It Came" is a 12 minute drone piece by Dino Pacifici which I heard on (surprise) SomaFM and found on the (Excellent) Drone Download Project Year 1 compilation. At the very end of the piece is a processed vocal sample:

"When the effect came, it was almost unnoticed because it happened to such a small insignificant form of life."

Mildly creepy, absent any other context. A little digging found the source, a film called Phase IV about a takeover by ants -- but not the giant mutant radioactive kind (oh *Them*), regular-sized ants that -- for reasons never really made clear -- start acting in a distinctly un-ant-like way.

"Phase IV" is the only feature film by Saul Bass, otherwise known (or unknown) as a title designer. It was given the MST3K treatment, which I haven't seen, and -- no disrespect to Mike, Joel and the Bots I think I might just prefer to leave it that way. There's something about this film. . .

I literally* flew out the door when I heard it was playing at The Castro Theatre (cue Wurlitzer), and to my delight it's been released on DVD. I don't think I could really do the film justice, so I'll just throw links at the problem and hope that one or more of them will stick and interest you in seeking out this film for yourself:

• Not Coming To A Theater Near You (review)


• Dot Dot #11 (via Google Books)
  With excerpts from screenplay


• SF360 Profile on Saul Bass (director)


• GoofButton ( many stills)

First, the Bees and Wasps. And now the ants. For my next trick, I will turn into a giant centipede.

---

*not literally

The Bees and Wasps of Eternity

I was afraid I'd lost this bit of text forever. It wasn't in any of my digital archives, and the Internet Archive/Wayback Machine failed me -- I remembered it had been on one incarnation of my web pages ages ago.

Then this evening, by an amazing coincidence, I found the hard copy that used to adorn the door of my monk's cell -- er, dorm room -- in graduate school.
Originally emailed to me by my friend Joe, forwarded from another party, presumably the author. (Adddresses and other PI removed below save for Brent for the sake of due attribution). I'll attempt to reproduce it as it appeared on my web page out of an overdeveloped, obsessive sense of nostalgia.

---

Barbarella is a Talking Lava Lamp

This came to me by way of my good friend Joe while I was a gradual student in Physics at XXX. I've left it in its original format. Brent Palmer, if you're out there man, you rule. This poem has stayed with me for years. woobee woobee. ikka ikka.

---

Date: Tue, 8 Jun 93 10:03:09 EDT
From: XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
To: (me)
Subject: thot ya'd like this...

Date: Tue, 8 Jun 1993 13:32:36 -0500
From: 00bcpalmer%BSUVAX1.BITNET@UBVM.cc.buffalo.edu
Subject: Barbarella is a Talking Lava Lamp

Wooobeeee Wooobeeee ikka ikka.
I am god of the bees.
Sting me goaheadantryit.
I am f---ing wondergod of the bees
ikka ikka

The *hive* is *big*       *spaciousness*
*spa-*         *cious-*           *ness*

I like the way your lips move when you say that.

*spa-*         *cious-*           *ness*

I am goddess of the wasps
I am landing on the moon on your shoulder

The Seventies are back
*omigod* The Seventies are Back

Look carefully for the sun.

Where am I?
The land of Shadows.
Who are you?

*the* bees *and* wasps of eternity

00bcpalmer@bsuvc.bsu.edu "Brent"
[watch the Gergen and Barney Show!]

Here Come The Planes / Lathe of Smallville

Last night I dreamed myself in a locale that crops up a lot in my dreams; it's an amalgam of a couple of college campuses I've been to -- lots of buildings, some in the woods. This time there'd been some kind of attack or natural disaster; many buildings were damaged and on the verge of collapse. For some reason I was wandering around inside; not with any particular sense of urgency.

Later in the dream I was in a conference room discussing continuity-of-business plans with my co-workers. One of them, referring to the disaster, spouted some pretty noxious conspiracy theories about this attack and 9/11 that I won't reproduce here.

Then I wake this morning to find out someone crashed their plane into the IRS building in Austin, TX apparently (though we're still getting details) as a form of protest.

No, I don't necessarily believe in prescience, but it is kind of interesting (to me, which for my purposes is really all that matters).

On a considerably lighter note, for those of you who watch the (deliciously ridiculous) "Smallville": upon seeing Pam Grier as Checkmate agent (director?) Amanda Waller I quipped to My Associate "what's next? Maxwell Lord?" - And Then. . .

"Save me, would you?"

My Associate and I have a particular love for a scene* in this episode of "The West Wing". Mrs. Bartlett has just given a speech at a Democratic fundraiser and retires to the garden with Amy Gardner (who hilariously interrupts the speech with a bit of physical comedy involving a candle, fire and a water glass). In the garden, the First Lady exhorts Amy to save her when she sees smarmy columnist Alana Moiron on approach to gloat about an op-ed piece chastising her for not supporting Fair Pay legislation. The scene builds to a great verbal bitch slap delivered by Amy. Flash forward, MLP was also in the redux of "Red Dragon" as Molly Graham, wife of FBI agent Will Graham (Ed Norton) who (OMGSPOILER) gets to (well, has to, really) deliver a bitch slap of the decidedly more than verbal variety.

From those two items, this followed pretty much inevitably.





*search in the transcript page for 'Zatz' and you'll find the scene I'm talking about.

Stars of the Lid

Thanks to Rusty at SomaFM's DroneZone (You should listen. You should give them money. Do it now. I'll wait.) as I write I am listening to Stars of the Lid ("Articulate Silences Part 1" from "And Their Refinement of the Decline", Kranky 2007).

You can find out as much or as little about the band as you like for yourself; I won't attempt to summarize them except to say that they are a two guys who produce some really beautiful instrumental music. But I felt compelled to give a shout (As the kids say).

I was lucky enough to catch them when they performed in my city in 2007. It was a day after I'd received some pretty life-changing news, so that concert and therefore that album will probably always be associated in my mind with that time and what was - and I suppose still is - happening. But (As the kids insist on saying) "It's All Good". I did say it was beautiful music, after all, and on this occasion the usual pair were joined by a string trio so it was all the more sublime.

A clip from that tour, though not from that show:

Stars of the Lid from Timothy Boyd on Vimeo.

I first heard SotL on (surprise) SomaFM -- that occasion it was "The Atomium Part 3" from "Avec Laudenum" and it grabbed me enough that I had to hear everything else. SotL also seem have a thing for Twin Peaks (as shown by song titles and samples used). So that's funny too.

And that's all I called about.

Gods and Monsters

I dreamed I was in a large arena with various deities from the world's mythoi.
We were all thrown in together haphazardly through the roof of the Colosseum.
Indra, Poseidon and Gaia were in the middle and told everyone to form a circle
in the order of Sky-Sea-Earth. Then I told all the Earth gods to move one partner to the left and
all the Sea gods to move one to the right. This put me between a guy in Nazi regalia and another in Imperial Japanese circa 1945 uniform.

Wuthering, indeed!

The Castro Theater is showing Wuthering Heights (1939). The theater does employ an organist who plays before each show; I wonder if he could be convinced to accompany me if I were to provide an impromptu terpischorean prelude. My Associate and I can't decide if I should wear red or white. I'd better see about renting a fog machine / obtaining enough windowpane for the whole audience. ("Let me in to your window. . .")

This entry contains the word 'tits'

Once upon a time, My Associate and I were discussing the relative merits of various Sci-Fi television shows, specifically with regards to the rigorousness of their science fiction technobabble.
[We are a Stargate SG-1/Atlantis/Universe household.]
And I observed that SG-1 has much 'harder' science than, say, Star Trek.
But then I realized that 'hard' was too strong a statement and tried to amend it to 'firm.'
But then that kind of sounded like description of tofu (hard, firm, soft).
My Associate observed that it also could be taken to describe breasts.

Which led us to the (possibly infelicitous description of the) floppy science tits of Star Trek and the perky, sun-chasing science tits of Stargate SG-1.

When I posted about this on another forum, a few friends added:

- the Buffalo Bill tit-vest of Andromeda.
- leather cat suit tits of Farscape.

To which I'd now like to add:
- the jiggly hand-cam amateur porno tits of Battlestar Galactica

Tea, Hold the Sympathy

[...] About sympathy for example -- we can do without it. That illusion of a world so shaped that it echoes every groan, of human beings so tied together by common needs and fears that a twitch at one wrist jerks another, where however strange your experience other people have had it too, where however far you travel in your own mind someone has been there before you -- is all an illusion. We do not know our own souls, let alone the souls of others. Human beings do not go hand in hand the whole stretch of the way. There is a virgin forest in each; a snowfield where even the print of brids' feet is unknown.

Virginia Wolf, "On Being Ill", Selected Essays

These Dreams

2 nights ago:
Dreamed I was in a war zone somewhere in SE Asia; probably Vietnam and it had the feel of a LARP but with live weapons (and I swear I haven't watched the trailer for 'Gamer' more than once). I turned my compatriots over to the enemy in exchange for something.

last night:
had a long involved dream that started on a beach in Hawaii where my mother was getting married (to whom? no idea). The service was officiated by a co-worker but was repeatedly interrupted by a crazy homeless beach bum who I eventually confronted. Then I and My Associate were playing another video game that reminded me a lot of Fallout 3. We helped a derelict robot repair itself for which it was grateful, even though we were unable to get its incomplete companion working

It was a hamcan?

I received this postcard from a good friend long ago, I think I was living out in Northampton MA at the time. A woman holding a sewing notion box made from nothing other than a ham can. How clever! [click thumbnails for larger image]

I still have the original (somehwere. . .) but quickly scanned it in to share with others. I remember composing an exegesis about it: Is she receiving the ham can sewing box as a gift from friends (and saying thank you).... or, rather, did she make it herself and is showing it to her gal pals and they're telling her how clever she is to which she responds with a demure:



Anyway, it entered the lexicon (as these things do). One summer, after I'd just finished reading the entire Dune series (the original, thank you) resulted in:

Wire in the Tru (Blood) Calling from the Dollhouse (and Welcome to It)

Dream started out in an institutional building that resembled my elementary schools back home; some kind of science fair / LARP (again? really?) / art show was going on including one station where we dressed in bluescreen-material body suits and did interpretive dance while films were projected over us. And then the morris dancing (natch).

Cut to: I'm driving with someone to dispose of a body (watching too much Wire I guess) off of a bridge, but when we get there it's really a seaport. We get lost in the rabitty warrens of tunnels trying to find a pier to dump the body off. My partner* in crime (who's by this point confessed to me that he's high as a kite) decides we'll use this one -- but they're about to offload a boat full of goats. He manages to dupe the dockworkers into letting us in, we stow the body and he lets the truck roll away as a distraction. I book, run into a security guard who helps me (why? read on...) escape by showing me a trapdoor that leads to a tiny crawlspace where we recover syringes and a blood testing kit. Security Guard is revealed to be some kind of evil vampire who has Nefarious Designs. I book (again? really?) and run out the front door of my Grandmother's house into the street.

Fortunately at this point the alarm went off and I woke up.

*note: partner was not My Associate