Hammer Fan

Here's the fan from yesterday in the instant just before its destruction. 

Portrait of a Fan-atic

Ten years ago to the month, Sean took this picture of me helping Mom and Dad get rid of some old junk in their basement. I think my mother or my aunt painted the painting behind me. 

Savage Supper

Sean suggested we could toast buns in the toaster, and butter them with garlic butter to make garlic bread. It was not an unqualified success. 

Home Alone: A Tragedy

Imagine if Chris Columbus' Home Alone (1990) had ended with the returning Mom breaking her neck on her son's booby-trapped stairs...I enjoyed the slapstick, of course, but I really did wonder how the director was going to address all the damage done to the house. As it turns out, he glossed it over with a snowfall and some off-screen cleaning by the protagonist. But for a few seconds, I really wondered if things were going to end badly.

I can't say I'm a fan of Chris Columbus' work, but after seeing Home Alone I'm a little less inclined to write off his work entirely. It's still pretty schmaltzy, but my sense of humour is unsophisticated enough to enjoy Kevin's creative traps for the hapless burglars. 

SEANBURGER Friday

Building a Better Ray Gun

Someone should invent a toy ray gun that has a real laser, but also a water reservoir. When you pull the trigger, the gun shoots a fine mist of water just before the laser flares into life. The result: a visible laser beam! How cool would this be?

Alternatively, you could just put lasers on squirt guns for a similar, though not identical, effect. 

Knight Watch

One could argue that this is the golden age of television, that we are living through an era of high-quality dramas and comedies unmatched in the medium's young history. Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, Mad Men, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Damages, the revamped Battlestar Galactica...it's an embarrassment of riches out in what was once called a vast wasteland.

But what have we sacrificed to reach this pinnacle of programming? Simple: 80s and 90s cheese, and only one man can save us:

David Hasselhoff. 

Hasselhoff ruled the airwaves for years in decades past with two signature hits: Knight Rider and Baywatch. Imagine if Hasselhoff could be persuaded to reprise the roles of not just one, but two of his most iconic characters: crusading agent of F.L.A.G. Michael Knight and heroic lifeguard Mitch Buchannon. Together with a rebuilt KITT, the now-amphibious artificially intelligent supercar, they form the...

KNIGHT WATCH.

Picture if you will the pilot episode, in which Michael Knight, grizzled and cynical, tries to retire quietly to the golden beaches of southern California - only to meet his double. And imagine Mitch Buchannon's mirrored alarm. Neither man has a twin - as far as they know.

But remember, Michael Knight wears another man's face, as described in the original pilot of Knight Rider. Michael Knight was once police detective Michael Long, until he was shot in the face, only to be rescued by an eccentric billionaire and given a new face and identity through plastic surgery. He became Michael Knight, "...a man who does not exist." It turns out that eccentric billionaire modelled Michael Long's new features after his long lost son, Garth Knight...who shows up in the distance, watching Mitch and Michael...waiting.

KITT, of course, joins the Baywatch rescue team, using his turbo boost to leap from the beach into the waves whenever someone gets into trouble. Together, once they've resolved the mystery of Garth Knight and their identical faces, they fight crime and solve problems twenty-six episodes a year as the KNIGHT WATCH!

Hand in Glove

Even given the evidence of my ABA card, I can understand if some people find it hard to believe I ever participated in sports. Well, I may not be playing, but here is 11 year old me in my baseball uniform. I think I played somewhere in the outfield, where I could do the least damage. 

Cat on a Wire

Knowing what I know now about how animals cause power outages, this old shot of the Woods family cat, Alex, makes me a little nervous. It's sort of a wonder he got away with this...

ABA Card

I can scarce believe that once upon a time I was involved in organized sports, but here's the proof - a scan of my Alberta Baseball Association membership card. I find the automatic use of the male pronoun interesting; maybe there was a separate card for girls and women?

I was a pretty terrible baseball player. During the two or three years I was involved, I think I may have managed one single, one double, a few walks and I may have scored as many as three runs. I was pretty good at losing with grace, though.

Oddly enough, Scott and Mike were having a discussion about children in sports last night, and at one point I said "But in gym class, they taught us that winning didn't matter, that what was important was that we had fun."

Mike delivered a pretty sick burn: "I think, Earl, your teachers meant to say that you didn't need to worry about winning."

Oof. But I laughed!

Saturday Night at the Races

Racing against Steve, Scott and Mike tonight, I placed third in the first race and first in the second. This might be the...second time I've won this game? Maybe? 

Earl's Fib Poem

In a recent post on her blog, Leslie describes fib poems. Here's my first try at producing one:

Art
Film
Actors
Marketing
Moving hearts and minds
Propaganda steers us like sheep
Unless we watch carefully with a critical eye
Reclaiming our power through analysis, we fight back, telling our stories

The Hand

A digital self-portrait shot on 35 mm film. 

Fort Garry House Memories...Such as They Are

For a very brief time that lasted, perhaps, from sometime in 1997 to sometime in 1998, I lived in Fort Garry House, up where Calgary Trail meets Saskatchewan Drive. I had a one-bedroom apartment on the seventh with no balcony, and I remember virtually nothing about the place except that Colin visited once and Bruce and Leslie visited once. Oh, and Bruce and Akemi came by once to shoot photos on the rooftop for I'll Never Marry a Farmer.

There are more photos from that rooftop shoot than I have of my apartment itself; there might be five or six photos, including the one above, clearly taken before I had finished unpacking.

I was living here during the time I transitioned from my job at the Western Board of Music to Hole's - certainly one of the most important moments of my life, at the very least from a career standpoint.

And yet, I can barely recall the place itself. I'm not sure why that makes me sad, but it does. 

Power Puff Earl

Inspired by Bruce and Leslie, who have each made Powerpuff Girl avatars of their own, I present Powerpuff Earl. 

40seanthing

My younger brother is now officially in his 40s, which, as the older brother, is somewhat disconcerting. It's also disconcerting to see his past self with hair...

The Sylvia Boucher Mysteries

Just like Nancy Drew! 

Deadshot's Bad Date

Fake Woods on a Hill

Following Jeff's advice from my last post, I have attempted to create a more aesthetically pleasing Woods triptych. My photo manipulation skills will fool no one, but this was good practice. Pretend the leaves on Sean's arm are a badass tattoo, and try not to notice the back of the pickup truck. 

Woods on a Hill

Here are Dad, Mom and Sean arranged in a triangle on a hill near Salt Lake, Manitoba. They didn't pose for this, I just happened to shoot at an opportune moment. It would be better if Sean were standing and if the unidentified folks in the background weren't present, but I still find the composition interesting. This shot also makes me feel like I should buy some more black and white film for the old T70. 

Sunburn Idyll

I'll have to ask Mom and Dad where this photo was shot, but it certainly looks like a nice place. I'm not sure if my face is badly sunburned or if the slide was merely discoloured and my corrections failed. 

EW for PR

Here's an artifact from my last successful election campaign. In Grade 10 (or did the elections happen in Grade 11?) I ran for Public Relations Officer of Leduc Composite High School's Student Council. My chief duty was to read the morning announcements during my Grade 11 year. I thought it was fun.

I ran for President the following year, but lost by about 15 votes, if memory serves. What the people giveth, the people taketh away. 

Earl Noir

If it were shot on black and white film instead of colour videotape, I'd almost claim that this screen capture from Generous Nature could serve as a legitimate example of film noir, thanks to its claustrophobic composition. I totally meant to do that! 

I Have a Mouth and I Must Scream

My friend Jeff hates a couple of things with a passion: the Paranoid Productions film Bitter Litter, in which he stars, and Photoshop's lens flare filter. For my own amusement, and because I know this will make Jeff cry "Argh!", I combined Jeff's two antipassions in this image. 

Earl and Sean v Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

On the way home after seeing Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Sean and I attempted to record our thoughts on the film. Unfortunately, the recording cut out after 30 seconds, so I present here a more traditional review, with Sean's thoughts thrown in as I recall them.

We went into the film with very low expectations, so our agreed-upon score of five out of ten stars may in fact be too kind, since we expected the movie to be even more dire than it was. In short, we felt there was a good movie in here trying to get out, but Zack Snyder's leaden, depressing, joyless direction overcame whatever promise the film once held.

The film begins with a reasonably interesting premise: Batman sees Superman as a threat because of the events in Man of Steel, during which Superman's fight with General Zod and the other surviving Kryptonians laid waste to Metropolis - as well as Gotham City, which we discover in this film lies across the bay. Public opinion on Superman is torn thanks to the circumstances of his arrival, and if you buy the premise and tone of Man of Steel, Batman v Superman's themes work in that context.

This presumes you accept that this film is very much Zack Snyder's dark vision, and the characters onscreen, save perhaps Wonder Woman, behave in ways that are so far out of character fans will wish Snyder would leave DC Comics alone and make sequels to 300 or Sucker Punch instead. Sean pointed out the film's dismal portrayal of poor Perry White, who's been a crusader for truth in journalism for 75 years in the comics, reduced here to a cynical shell. Diane Lane's Martha Kent tells her foster son, Superman, "You don't owe this world a thing," the complete opposite of the Kent values as espoused, again, during decades of comic book stories.

It gets worse. Batman is angry at Superman for all the collateral damage he caused in Man of Steel, but Sean rightly points out that Batman kills a number of people in this film, and overtly uses pistols and machine guns in a dream sequence in such a way that it's clear he's comfortable using them in real life, too. Batman brands suspects in this movie. He is prepared to kill Superman.

Superman, for his part, behaves like an arrogant bully during at least two points in the film, and mopes around for the rest of it. Only during the film's final act is he at all heroic - more on that later.

Sean made note of Jesse Eisenberg's ludicrous, over-the-top portrayal of Lex Luthor, taking care not to blame the actor, but the screenplay and director. To that I would add Luthor has no motivation for his actions in the film. He does things because he's the villain, because he's Lex Luthor and of course Luthor hates Superman (and Batman). In the film itself, the audience is given no reason to explain why Luthor is so hell-bent on wiping out Superman (and Batman). Why couldn't the fight in Man of Steel destroyed a project dear to Lex's heart, or perhaps killed his sister? Any motivation would have been better than what Snyder provided: Lex does bad things because he is evil.

Kudos to Jeremy Irons; his Alfred Pennyworth is perhaps the only character who's actually in character this whole movie. I suppose Amy Adams' Lois Lane comes in a close second; Adams is always delightful, but like the other characters she's working against a very weak screenplay.

The film is disrupted by a number of dream sequences. Clearly Snyder is desperate to be seen as a serious filmmaker, as these sequences are leaden with pretension, but he succeeds only in confusing the audience or making it roll its collective eyes.

Cameos by the Flash, Cyborg and Aquaman are so clumsily handled it's embarrassing. I'm not a professional screenwriter, but I'm smart enough to see at least two different ways those cameos could have been included organically, building the DC cinematic universe without making viewers think they're watching an ad for later films in the series.

Sean and I both agree that Ben Affleck and Gal Gadot do a good job as Batman and Wonder Woman, respectively. Affleck has enough gravitas and anger to carry the role, and Gadot is a revelation; in just a few minutes of screentime, she displays more charisma, sympathy and bad-assery than anyone else in the movie. Personally I thought Henry Cavill did a good job as Superman given what he had to work with, but as Sean noted, "How many lines did he even have?" He's right; the Man of Steel is more plot device than character in this film.

We both agreed that the film does pick up somewhat in the final act, as long as you're willing to forget all that came before. The moral conflict that sparked the film is dropped in the most ham-handed way possible and never resolved, because of course the heroes have to team up to fight a giant monster. For what it's worth, the final battle itself is well choreographed, exciting, and finally gives Superman a chance to be heroic, though very near the end of the film's overlong running time.

Aside from all of the above concerns, this is a joyless, almost literally colourless film. Characters are treated like chess pieces to move the plot forward, the aesthetic is depressingly nihilistic, and Zack Snyder clearly doesn't understand the fundamental properties that have sustained these characters over the course of three-quarters of a century.

In other words, when Batman fights Superman, everybody loses. Especially the audience.