Wings Over the Pyre - January 30th, 2003

12:35 am

Occultos:

You are of the great Order of Hermes! The forces
of creation bow to your will!


What Magickal Tradition Do You Belong In?
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(Funny, I could have sworm I'm far more -- well, anything. Though I do have ideas about integrating Forces and ... no, wait, that's ItX. Guess I'm stuck.)

DOS:

Which OS are You?

(I'm Apple DOS? Anyone running Choplifter on me? How about Oregon Trail?)

Black:

Whee! You are Panzermench by And One!
Nobody understands you because you are in German,
but that's okay, they still over play you!


What_Overplayed_Goth_Night_Song_Are_You?
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(Panzermench. Tank-man. If that ain't me, I don't know what is.)

Meow:


Take the Purrsonality Quiz!

(Well ... I've never been called a bitch before. Isn't that the wrong species?)

Reviews: Well, finally, there are two intriguing shows on Monday nights. Veritas: the Quest made me giggle at the same time I enjoyed watching it in the same mindspace as Indiana Jones and Laura Croft. For the truly geeky devotes of the genre, you'll see actors you recognize from both Poltergeist: the Legacy and Prey (home of the World's Dumbest Biologist). Seeing these genre actors getting together and doing something like PtL on acid and steroids is a hoot. Further, Cynthia Martelis (who plays Maggie) is scrumptious.

Now, given timeslots, we have to contrast this with Miracles, which is a far, far darker setting and more gruesome in ways both depictionary and cosmological. Skeet Ulrich plays it suitably intense as a guy who investigates miracles for the Catholic Church, and who is beginning to lose his faith. Played out, this has a lot of the same vibe as last season's Haunted, another creep-fest favourite of mine, and one I hated to see go. It also has a little of the PtL feel, but without the actors and with a double-helping of better cinematography.

Speaking of cinematography, I finally watched Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter -- and came to the conclusion that this is the kind of movie I watch to reassure myself that I have a place in the film biz. Not that there aren't some good lines, but Hell, I could do better with all DV than they did for $30k on all 16mm Arriflex. The writer did have one good bit in the commentary, though: "If you're going to write yourself a part, make sure its not wearing a leather jacket in the summer." If you don't mind really sacrificing your mind in the search for good indie cinema, you'll love this. I enjoyed it, but ... truthfully, I think I could have done better. The endless stream of athiests pouring out of the Jeep might be worth it to you, though.

Contact: I'll be offline at home at least until next Wednesday, likely longer unless I find the right ass to put boot to. While I'm at the office, I have a semi-stable Yahoo Messenger connection, but AIM falls over at the drop of a pin, then drops it itself. Forgive me if you speak and I don't seem to answer.

Current Mood: cynical

06:26 am

End of Line, Dillinger: Well, looks like I'm almost through with the day's suffering. At least I had frosty cold root beer, lemon merangue pie, and fried chicken out of it. I'm sure I'll regret it later.

Anyone that needs/wants to get in touch with me can use zamiel@livejournal.com or Yahoo Messenger (exopilot) to contact me while I'm here in the office. Those that need my phone number have it, those who don't can ask, beg, grovel, or demand as appropriate.

Current Mood: tired

11:40 pm

Sleep: I've, somehow, developed the happy power to roll over and go to sleep, even after the sound of a circular saw chewing through massive chunks of wood is screaming away mere rooms away. This became an issue today when my family decided to buy a new refrigerator (of which I'm supposed to throw in my $300 cut -- of an item I advised against buying, sigh), and its bigger than the current nook. So, they cut out huge chunks of the kitchen. Then they received it about the time I finally got up out of bed and the abortion that was installing it came to pass. Watching that process made my eyes bleed.

Why my father and sister insist on completely ignoring everything I say eludes me. Luckily, one day, they'll all be dead. (Repeat after me: One day, they'll all be dead. One day, they'll all be dead. One day, they'll all be dead. Its the universe's best mantra.)

Comisserations: Mainly to tryptophan whose car was broken into. While I do understand what drives people to simple thievery, I realized that hearing about crimes makes me want to go all Forensic Files on folks, sniffing about, throwing Luminol around like Lysol, and generally being a dick. Then I realized I could be a dick ... a private dick. They have correspondance courses for that. I'm actually disturbingly tempted. I'm already starting to talk like Mike Hammer or a bad Raymond Chandler rip-off, for all I still write like a Lovecraft pastiche.

Pseudopodian hugs (possibly resembling strangulation from some angles) go out to madamealexis, too, since she seems to be going through a rough bit in her life right now. I'd just like to say: Humans can't be trusted. Keep your laser handy. This is all.

While I'm at it plutomoment needs a few ameboid brain-nibblings, and relevantpink gets a few tentacular ass-boots, while I'm being shoggoth-like and mushy.

You Have Been Warned(tm).

Work: I'm starting to worry about the imbeciles here at work. An excerpt:

[23:31] SquidLord: If its fixed, why look at crash data? Or was it precipitator, not result?
[23:31] JasonO: it likely shows the same corruption problem -- so no worry
[23:31] JasonO cuz theyre gold and they asked us to :)
[23:33] SquidLord: Platinum gets their own team. Gold just gets short response times, a TAM, and a little butt kissing. Said lips are most obviously not attached to my face; we pay people for that.

Current Mood: crappy