I’ve started looking at great car chase films. So far only using wkpdia as a reference and began with Bullitt which is supposed to be the first. Although the charger was a pretty classic looking car, with the hidden headlights that make it look like it’s wearing sunglasses, i’s surprised how little chase action there was in the film. Bonus points for daring to have longish scenes with no dialogue.
Next was The French Connection whose only chase only involved one car(and a subway train). This movie obviously had a lot of influence on the creators of GTA4.
I’ve been working like a dog for the last three weeks and it will continue for one more. This is partly why I’ve not been writing here much. It’s hard on my flat feet but also on my motivation to anything else that requires thinking.
I happened to be sitting outside for a half an hour last thursday evening around 6pm and realised how little I’ve appreciated the summer now it’s here. Winter is so long and monotonous and I’ve never felt a softening->adaptation to it. It reminds me of Grimm Bros. fairy tales. Sending your 8y.o.s out into the forest to collect firewood so the family can boil a few misshapen potatoes. That’s winter. But summer days like that one last thurs where the sun is dulled by storm-cloud that aren’t doing anything are nice. Even now that the rains have a-started and every piece of clothing feels damp and clingy I’m still not thinking ‘oh when will this end?’ like winter. Summer is so much shorter.
Niko Belic stares into the guts of another upturned car, a glancing realisation in the futility of it all—life, mortality and being stuck in a computer game. It’s 4AM.
I went with a friend to the national guitar emporium and realised there are other kinds of stringed instruments there too. He is nutty about ukuleles as I normally am about guitars. We went to all the same shops I got to to look at guitars and they had ukes there. I’d never noticed before. They just looked like toy things getting in the way of the real thing. I can appreciate that he really digs the uke, and can play Cold Chisel songs on them, among other things, but they still look frustratingly small to me. Can’t really wail on em.
I went to Ah myeon do last weekend with the g/f. It’s a small island in the west sea. It’s connected by road and bridge so it didn’t really feel like an island. The weather was bright, grey and misty. The lack of impression that the place made on me is reflected in how few fotos I took. Here is one of a rice field:
After posting that last foto and explanation of Korean food a while back I found that it looks rather unappealing, or more to the point, there’s quite a bit of technique involved in photographing food well. Here is another foto of food that surely won’t make anyone hungry, the only difference here being that I cooked it—a thai curry of sorts.
This was the first time I’d bought fully raw big-size prawns from the supermarket and cooked them. I was going to write a poem about how in life, prawns are an ugly dell grey colour, but in death thru cookery, they attain a brilliance and vibrance and colour that they never would have dreamt they were capable. It’s beautiful like a sunset. I was going to write a story about the recollection of a dream that I had fiction-ally had about reciting the poem spontaneously at the recent end-of-semester teacher’s luncheon, and how I was abducted by giant, sentient, space prawns who taunted me, twisted my head off, removed my ridiculous interno-skeleton in a messy way before they could finally dine of the delicious flesh, of which there was surprisingly little.