Friday, December 29, 2006

Compensating for Blogger's lack of virtual balloons and fireworks and such...

As promised and prepared and mentioned beforehand:

My gift - to you. Or, to myself. Or both.
Happy New Year, everyone! Be good, stay better, become the best!
And as for music in the coming twelve months of 2007:

My favourite band in all the world is called Queen.
And this is (one of, I should say) my favourite picture(s) of my favourite band in all the world, Queen.



From left to right: Freddie, John, Brian, Roger.
Promoshot for the album "News of the world".
In a word: Beautiful!

Heroes and villains and Queen

Quote Brian May;
"...well, it's always a bit dodgy meeting someone you have really adored from a distance..."

"Ahem*

(Reckon he'd know what it feels like, then!)

And, furthermore, these...well...recognisable words were spoken about a certain Catherine Tate - by whom all Doctor Who-fans were of course totally and happily surprised on Christmas day; when she featured in this year's infamous Christmas Special of the show, "The Runaway Bride". Which again, for the record, was absolutely brilliant. Loved the flashbacks, the Rose-references in general, the dancing, the very special ring-ceremony on the roof, the car-chase, the Empress of the Racnoss (spider-queenie!) and the Doctor-produced snow. Loved it!!! ...and this is, of course, totally and completely non-sensible for all those who haven't seen the episode yet, but still. As a fan, one must comment on such important events!

*Ahem*

(And if I had met Brian May... I hate to admit; I would have been unable to speak, move or do anything at all - for that matter - I would have stood there, then, like some utter idiot and gaped and stared and groped for words. But apparently - and fortunately! - he would have understood. Really. It IS dodgy, even just to think about it. That being said; I would enjoy to meet him, though! A lot!!! So Brian, if you're reading this, please feel free to invite me out for coffee one day!)

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Julestemning (lille julaften!)

Har bakt pepperkakker, skal se obligatoriske episoder av Doctor Who (noe med Christmas etc...!), har mumset julemarsipan, åpnet angitte kalenderluker, gleder seg intenst til Grevinnen og Hovemesteren...OG NÅ, for å komme i enda mere stemning:

ÅTTE-PÅ-TOPP JULESANGER!!!
  1. THANK GOD IT'S CHRISTMAS & A WINTER'S TALE - QUEEN (selvsagt!)
  2. CHRISTMAS EVE - CELINE DION (med gitar-riff, tro det eller ei...!)
  3. ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS - diverse artister, men vi foretrekker LOVE ACTUALLY-VERSJONEN!
  4. HAPPY X-MAS (WAR IS OVER) - JOHN LENNON MED FRUE & FALSK BARNEKOR (kloke, fine og veldig...søte...sangen)
  5. WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STAR - DISNEY-VERSJONEN! (og vi snufser og vi hufser og det er ENDELIG jul!!!)
  6. WALKING IN THE AIR - ALED JONES (er det en julesang? tja. får jeg gåsehud? JA!)
  7. SONG FOR TEN - NEIL HANNON (as heard and seen - ehem - in a certain - ehem - Christmas Special...)
  8. Og ellers: NOE MED SISSEL (fordi hun er hele Norges julesangerinne, og uansett hva hun synger av julesanger kan det umulig være ille), musikken til "Tre Nøtter til Askepott" - og Disney-sanger generelt!

Da blir det en god og musikalsk jul!!! :)

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Song about a mom

...inspired by ABBA, of course!

"Absent mother song"
By Scaramouche, the po(t)et

does your mother know
when you're out playing
with the naughty kids and
you don't even come home

you don't come home no more
will your mother ever know
when you're laughing behind
your mother's crooked back

does your mother know, and
more importantly, does your
mother even care, I don't think
so, cos she's got a new husband

now

and you're not coming home
no puppy eyes to blame her with
your mother doesn't know and
if she knew, oh would she care

chatting with an invisible doorframe

"persistent piss"
...and tired of it!

By Scaramouche, the slam po(t)et who keeps on dreamin'!

it's just a lot of talk
empty words
and sorry doesn't mean sorry
anymore
no excuses
just plain and sheer
shallowness
the only true thing about them
is the continuity
of their
nonsense

and my anger
poses as an
lasting factor
caused by someone
who asks me for
forgiveness
for causing my anger
and thus contributes
to it's ongoing
existense

I have a dream
and that dream is
peace
from those who think my
peace
is something absolutely
free
for them to
invade

soon they will be chatting with an invisible doorframe from which I have descended and retreated, only

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Another little something before bedtime:

As we all know: being a Queen-fan, one must have access to almost every single photoshoot the fabulous four ever took part in. And they did a lot of them, to put it mildly. Anyway, it IS a fact that some of the sessions were damn good and some of them weren't...THAT good. Queen is, I believe, the only band capable of creating only completely superb or completely horrid photoshoots. Nothing in between, nothing mediocre. It's impressive! Take the "News of the World"-promo, for instance. Pure and absolute brilliance. And then this 70's-classic-circus-thingy from which there exist no useful images whatsoever. Even more impressive! So; however much I adore Queen, I do realize - and admit - that some pictures that were taken of them are barely viewable today. I mean, to the common eye. The...unconsecrated, or something remotely similar. For then again, these "lost" faces in a way makes me love mye cutie-Queenies even more. I've got clips from (almost) all their photoshoots and I can watch slideshows of them over and over and over again and it doesn't hurt my eyeballs the slightest bit and curse whomever thinks differently!!!

Helpless, that's what I am, BEYOND helpless. And I love it!

Anyways. Just though I'd mention this. Also, it substantiates the argument that Queen is a band you either love or hate, you can't stay indifferent. Not for long. And my love is an ever-lasting devotion which I hold very dear and will never depart from, as previously stated. With not a flicker of a shadow of a glimpse of doubt.

(Is this a kind of hinting forward to an upcoming post? Hmmm...likely. I do that a lot these days, now, don't I? Keeping you excited, is it? Yeah...? Yeah? YEAH?! Haha...oh well...Being secretive is an art of moderation. At giving away information.)

"If you're not on the edge of your seat, you'll be hiding behind it!"

A little for everyone...regardless of lingo!

English:
And...more on people I wanna be like! Madonna...my goodness, how amazing is she! I just watched her concert in London, from the Confessions-tour, on TV - and I must say...well...nothing compares to the Big M! Singer, actress, dancer - and now, rock-GUITARIST!!! Guess she isn't a new Brian May just yet, but she was good... And if it was simply an act of playback, which I seriously doubt, she is REALLY clever at mimicry! What a show, and what a lightning, and what a crew, and what beautiful music, and what a gorgeous lady! In my next life, wherever and whenever that might be, I wanna be a regeneration (...) of Madonna. Definately!

Norsk:
Jeg HATER Tide-trafikk!!! Det skal ikke ta 25 fordømte minutter før det kommer en fordømt buss til det utvilsomme gjennomfartsstedet der jeg bor! Tide er herved omdøpt til uTide! Møkkamennesker! Og når bussen endelig kom var den stappfull...Og sjåføren brukte ørten nye minutter på å lukke dørene og få ut vekslepenger til utålmodige folk som skulle til by'n. Pluss at jeg nesten kom for sent på kino og det regnet. DRIT!! Altså: Jeg bor i en BY! Jeg betaler penger for å være miljøvennlig og benytte meg av kollektivtrafikktilbudet! Jeg vil ikke måtte beregne 30 min ekstra når jeg skal ut fordi Tide ikke vil samarbeide! Skjerpings!!! ...og det var dagens raseriutbrudd. Nå til:

Deutsch:
Ich habe "Die fabelhafte Welt der Amelie" auf Französisch mit Englishen Untertiteln gesehen, mit meiner Deutschen Freundin, die Norwegisch sprechen kann, aber trotzdem mit mir gern auf Englisch redet. (Puh.) Der Film war natürlich (und wie immer) sehr gut und alle beide haben sehr viel gelacht, ein bisschen geweint und noch mehr gelacht...Audrey Tautou, ich liebe dich! Und wenn ich jetzt auf Deutsch schreibe, und du nichts Deutsches sprechen kannst, verstehst du bestimmt ebenfalls...nichts...dennoch muss ich es sagen! Die Music, die Natur, die Schauspieler, die Farben, die Themen & Gespräche; alle sind ganz und zweifellos WUNDERBAR! Ach, wie ein guter Film dies ist...Macht mich glucklich - und froh!

Français:
Bienvenue, tout le monde! Je parle non Francais! Toutefois, j'aime bien jouer au piano...tel gross manqué! ...eh, tout ce qui! Et de toutes manières! MERDE!

Italiano:
Più vantaggioso...probalimente! Vorrei una croissant con cioccolato e uno birra! Per favore! Combinazione grande, va bene! Lalalala *sniff* Marlon Brando *sniff* lalalala Il Padrino, molto caro, mi amore lalalala! O sole mio, truddelidu!

(Why am I always doing that?!)

OK; I'll call it quits, for today. It's late anyway. And now, I'll leave it up to you guys to have a go at guessing what my native tongue REALLY is...pretty hard, right? Please - at least tell me it ain't too evident!

BUT, must add: Another adaptation of the rock musical from which I've collected my infamous nick just premiered in Zürich...with a German cast. Wow. It's spreading across the globe, and we should all celebrate! Weee! The contagious effect of GlobalSoft...ouuiii....and maybe we'll get a movie too, in a couple of years? I'll be more than happy to perform "my own character", if anyone proves kind enough to ask me!

FRIED CHICKEN!!! ALL THE WAY!!!
Love, Madam Scaramouche!

BEST ACTING-PERFORMANCES EVER

(according to Scara!)

TO BE EDITED...AND UPDATED...CONTINUOUSLY:

Det var med en viss indignasjon og stigende AGGRESJON at jeg ble sittende å lese på følgende liste over Premiere's vurdering av tidenes beste rolleprestasjoner på film... http://www.listology.com/content_show.cfm/content_id.23334/Movies

Mest fordi Premiere er slikt et prestisjetungt og VIKTIG magasin som siteres både her og der, f.eks. på Imdb, og fungerer som referanseguide for drøssevis med filmfolk...og casting-agenter og...ja, tenk på skuespillerne selv...på deres forbilder...på alle menneskers forbilder...og hva faen er det de tenker med?! Hvor er....ja....alle de andre??? Uansett, til saken: jeg ble såpass arg over denne listen at jeg bestemte meg for å sette opp min egen...! Rett og slett fordi jeg syntes det var en del som MANGLET!

*

So, here's Scaramouche's own list of people she finds should have been included and should have reached a HIGHER rating on a list of best acting-performance-in-a-movie ever...I admit that they are all from favourite movies of mine, but seriously - there is a reason why they ARE favourites! (And I am also in the making of an all-time-favourite-moviescenes as well!!! Hang on in there - more to come!)

  • Gerard Butler in Phantom of the Opera (Hello...! SHAME ON YOU!!!)
  • Uma Thurman in Kill Bill 1&2 (WHERE was the OSCAR-commitee?)
  • Marlon Brando in The Godfather (...he obviously should've made them an offer they couldn't refuse!)
  • Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean (I mean, 79th place? What the heck???)
  • Christopher Walken in The Deer Hunter (...and even worse: 88th place!!!???)
  • Charles Bronson in Once Upon a Time in the West (Obviously)
  • Steve McQueen in Bullitt (The look says it all!)
  • Jean Reno in Leon (!!!!!!!)
  • Natalie Portman in V for Vendetta
  • Willem Dafoe in Platoon
  • Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca
  • Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge (Puppy eyes in person)
  • John Travolta in A love song for Bobby Long
  • Scarlett Johansson in Lost in Translation
  • Nicole Kidman in The Hours
  • Warren Beatty in Bonnie and Clyde
  • Sandra Bullock in Murder by Numbers
  • Pam Grier in Jackie Brown (Big mistake, Premiere! BIG TIME!)
  • Meryl Streep in The Bridges of Madison County & Out of Africa (...come ON!)
  • Clint Eastwood (generally, too much ABSENT!) in The Good, the Bad & The Ugly
  • Omar Sharif in Doctor Zhivago
  • Juliette Binoche in The English Patient
  • Mark Hamill in the Star Wars Trilogy
  • Kevin Costner in Dances With Wolves & The Bodyguard
  • Audrey Tautou in Amelie (I AM APPALLED!!!)
  • Anthony Hopkins in The Mask of Zorro
  • Patricia Arquette in True Romance
  • Jack Nicholson in The Departed (Might be excused, since this was after the list was made...but still included by ME!)

and I could go on like this...forever! Premiere Magazine, you SUCK! AAARGH!

Friday, December 15, 2006

"Everybody should see our Ten"

...cos he seems worthy of a fair chance, you know!

I mean, there are worse alternatives. And this doesn't look too ugly:


(copy-copy youtube)

Plus; I really try. I do. I try hard, and I am in a process of succeeding.
So I'm giving Mr. DT, also called TENnant, after-Chris, Teite-Tennant, or whatever, an opportunity to prove his capabilities. Prove what he's good for.

9 days to go.
10 days 'till we're gonna KNOW.

"Excitement" is an understatement!

Seemingly...broken

"BREAK/UP (OVER)"
By Scaramouche, the po(t)et

afraid to break
glasses
and throw things
onto the floor
ruining them
and maybe
splintering glasses
like smashing pumpkins
all the shattered pieces

afraid to slip
off my feet
and fall, keep falling
down tunnels
full of sand
and dust and
breaking
apart
with heavy blows
afraid to lose hold
and lose

slippery
slipping

letting go

when you're given something, it's handed over, and you just can't keep it up right, just fails and it all stumbles over, so sad, you might ask why they keep giving the clumsy a chance, for you know they'll be getting angry, managing to foresee the worst, constantly, you're almost preparing your excuses in advance, nowadays

so afraid to break
rules
my own
especially those
about
breaking

Monday, December 11, 2006

From watching American action dramas...

"Saviours"
By Scaranouche, the po(t)et, in a slightly political mood

At the end of a long, dark corridor
Lies a man, on the floor, hardly breathing

I wondered what he was thinking

Shadows running across his face
Every muscle tensed, a precipice before him

I wondered if he'll ever hurt again

Guards are running toward his door
Weapons heaved, grim faces, vigilant focus

I wondered what they were feeling

Twelve o'clock sharp, as they pick him up
And carry him to a hospital bed, then returned

I wondered if he'll ever believe again

A lesson about self-esteem

picture yourself;
being loved for
just who you are
how wonderful
and let yourself know;
there are people
who think of you
every single day
open your eyes to;
looks of admiration
and to own abilities
feel safe in your skin


I want to declare
hereby
how the time for disregarding compliments and praise
as plain clichés
has passed!

In need of a REAL man. Sorry, men.

It's not easy.

I want a man like John Travolta in "Lonely Hearts", for instance, who is so intensely serious.
And - who is a real man.
Down to the bone and in every, minute detail an honest, complex and mysterious human being.

True to an own identity.

Also, I want a man like Robert Redford in "Out of Africa", who is thoroughly independent. And strong.
Another - real man.
When he smiles, it's not forced on. Sadness, joy, hatred, anger, happiness, fear. It all comes naturally.

When they laugh, one can laugh with them. Not always have to explain. When they step into the room, there is a sense of purpose. And when they leave - there is a similar, immediate loss. And want. When engaged in conversation, there will be no plain nonsense. No low-standard crap; actually, one never has to lower oneself to a humiliating level of silliness. At all. The dialogue flows without too many of those embarssing moments where you feel like you're talking to a great, ignorant rock - or like there's a brick wall staring blankly at you.

One might attempt at escape, and one might fail to reply. One might look down. But when looking back up again, there is always a pair of eyes to meet. And they watch you, deep into the soul, deep beyond. Beneath. Into the heart, and that's where they stay. They might agree, they might disagree. Bewildered, understanding, confused, caring. But these eyes never shun yours.

Additionally (and furthermore), there are strong arms to hold and be held by. However, there are no strong arms to prevent you from, etc, or to hold you down. I'm talking pretty in general here, and it's true that nobody's perfect. But there's something about the overall impression. The mark one leaves on the world or with people one meets. There's something about the attitude, that I find missing in so many possible candidates with whom I have found myself being acquainted. The certainty and the follwing ascertainment. Safety, perhaps. And still, the freedom of choice and direction. The importance of, and respect for, one's own will. Desire; in every way.

And then, love. Most of all, real love. Emphasizing on it, also through silence. Contemplating and confirming it, through a single gaze. And a mesmerizing second of linked hands and an energy being shared, thereby, to live from and to live on. An energy of true emotions.

I want a man I can adore, and despise, and still find interesting after a million years together. A man I will be desperate to meet again, when he's gone; but whom I can just as well be away from, without fearing to lose part of myself. A man I can learn to forgive, and - who can forgive me. To love this man so much, I could die for him and yearn to kill him. Simulatenously.


This goes for both of them.
This goes for all the men I love, and seek. All the men I long for.
And it's just so...too...hard to find.

Perhaps I demand far too much, perhaps it's just dreaming again.
I tend to dream a lot.
It's a living, and at the same time - it's to die from.
A fertilizing, yet destroying irony that can only be labelled -
yeah. You guessed it.

LOVE.

Time spent

"Time spent - aka 60 minutes"
by Scaramouche, the po(t)et

one hour to spend
and to live
through it

one hour to watch
and to persist
through it

one hour to endure
and to seek
through it
one hour to enjoy
to believe that you'll get
through it
just
through it
one hour, is all
and
soon gone
already passed,
(even) before you noticed

Friday, December 08, 2006

Even better!

Even when the world starts spinning and everything's starting to fade into a dark blur. Even when you're scratching your elbows in order to stay alert, and similarly shaking your head like a madman in order to stay focused. Even when you can barely keep your eyes half open, far less sit up straight. Even when your body thus shrieks for a pillow and a soft mattress and your head feels heavy like a sack of potatoes sinking into mud.

Even then. Just one more picture.



A picture of Queen - simply because I love Queen.
And even when I'm so bloody tired I could DIE, they still make me smile.

That's why.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Mosses for an old man

A story that came to me as I was on the bus the other day, watching people getting on and off, sitting next to this middle-aged guy who looked confused and hateful and depressed and seeking, even pleading, for a companion. At the same time. So, I wrote the following text, and in order to avoid any confusion; I've written it in General American. For the record, I mean. It'll probably be up for some editing, later on - regarding typo's and additions/extractions - but for the moment it goes like this:

"Mosses for an old man"
(with extra credits to Nathaniel Hawthorne for title inspiration)

"Can I sit here?"

One of those ordinary girls, again; the one who wears her jeans a little too tight and her jackets a little too short. Blonde hair, also. And - she had a pair of these light eyes that never give away anything. He tried to stare into them for a moment, to get a sort of idea and grasp what lurked behind, but then she flinched. Thus, he settled with a fair compromise.

"Yeah sure."

Of course she could sit. And, as an escape from possible boredom, he would get a chance to study her better. She flung her bony, teenage ass (which he had a hard time trying not to picture, in detail) onto the springless bus chair. Slightly torn, the cover matched the youngster's grungy dressing. Complete with a rugged attitude and all, at least no-one could blame her for not being thorough. Fucking whole-hearted. Speaking of which, he wondered whether it was his heart that kept him from expressing his feelings out loud. Whether he was turning soft for not commenting directly on the nuisance that the neighbor-seat inhabitant personified. These pranks; he used to go at them with a wry smile and a resigned annoyance, oh yes, always pointing his finger at their being useless. But nowadays he stayed quiet. Did not even grimace at his own face, mirrored in the panorama window next to him. Did not pout conspiratorially to the old lady passing their double-seat, heading for the doors as the bus slowed down. During the short pause at a stop near the Herrington High School, he instead caught an unnoticed glimpse of the girl's face – while still staring intensely into the window reflections. She was, on her hand, looking straight ahead. Into nothing. And in the old days, he would have murmured to the back of his right hand, in whose palm he placed his chin striking a pensive pose, how the nothingness of focus found for the eyes resembles the nothingness of focus found for the soul.

It took him ten seconds to realize what craziness his mind had, in fact, uttered. Then he swore. "The old days"? Hell, no! He was not nearly that old, not yet. And these concepts that constantly snuck into his thoughts were starting to fret him. Moreover, he was wrong. The facial features of this girl showed no ignorance at all, nor any "see-me-care"-arrogance. She appeared straightforwardly innocent. Simply...indifferent. And additionally; a tiny pinch of sadness. Not more than a hint. But it was there. A furrow near her left temple, a hint. She moved, shifted positions and bent her leg sideways over the other. Closed her eyes, and reminded him once more of all these kids, the type as such, and their tiredness. Always lacking the energy to go that extra mile and they never hesitated to confirm it. To state it and to prove it. She leant backward, and took a deep breath. He was not watching her through a blurred, dirty glass anymore. He looked straight at her, unyieldingly. And she turned to face him, with her small face and blonde locks. She even smiled.

“Nice hat.”

So this was how it started, his inner voice concluded, this was what it felt like to meet a stranger and to be surprised. He saw her lips move, and an urge to mimic them came over him. In order to gain some more time and consider the alternatives, however, he first gave her a quick nod. He shrugged his shoulders, making the fabric of his dark blue winter coat tighten just above the over arms. She smiled again before she turned away. What a silly game. Trying to maintain his concentration, he studied the pattern of the bus chair in front of him. Ugly, diamond-shaped figures in gaudy colors overlapped, covering the entire chair in a patchwork quilt of nausea. We could talk about the design, his inner voice continued, and whereupon he condemned it for its distracting effect, people always enjoy disregarding the surroundings when they can find nothing else to talk about. The girl twisted a strain of hair around her little finger, another matter of disturbance. Thus far, his head and body had remained clear and he found no reasons to suddenly lose control over any of them. Not at this point. Therefore, he answered the girl’s remark with a polite “thank you” and made sure his voice was very calm. Neither rejecting nor inviting, but quite plainly that of an old and distinguished gentleman who would prefer to spend his bus ride in silence. Still, it was of minor help. He realized with a certain discomfort that it was not up to him to declare any wish of being left alone. She hardly took notice of him now, yet he wanted her to. That was the main issue, the problem. The case. In the old days, which he refused to acknowledge, he would have left and avoided any further contact. Be it verbal or physical. No more accidental brushes of his hand across her jacket, no more knocking of knees. How old was she, eighteen? Maximum twenty; and on a completely different stage in life, anyhow. As for himself, he was younger than he seemed – of course – and he did not have to wear that ridiculous hat. Though, she had described it as nice, but it was probably all part of these teenage phrases. She was one of those kids and she had grown up using their lingo. Their style. She was part of a world he hated, but was it thereby necessarily implied that he had to hate her? He decided he must ascertain his subconscious, along with all its worries.

“Where are you going?”

The only way possible and, similarly, the worst one. To her credit, she handled it exquisitely. She told him the truth. Or, if it was not the truth, at least she gave him an honest-sounding reply. She explained how she was going to town to meet with some friends; they were going out for some pizza or burgers. That was what she said, word-for-word. And it all came across so casually, her life so uncomplicated; he was almost brought to tears. Simultaneously, he was overwhelmed with massive frustration, when considering how surreal the situation had become. You do not talk to strangers on the bus. There is no room for conversation in a place like that, save – perhaps – insignificant everyday nonsense, concerning the weather or whatever. Or both. This was an agreement he had lived with and lived by, since way back, but now there was a shake in the foundations on which he had built all his convictions. She had just asked him where he was going, and he had no idea. Not of any directions where he could possibly be heading, and not of what he could possibly say to her. Hell, no. Hardly able to bear the increasing conflict, between the two of them and between his own selves, he shook his head and sighed. He waited for a moment, hoping she would disappear, vanish into thin air, dissolve into atoms, or simply get off. When neither happened, he resumed his hesitation and tried to disguise it as natural slowness. Anyone accepts an old man’s flaws, essentially because he is old and thus excused. But she was not ready to give up on him yet. Before she arose and lifted up her bag and indicated that she was leaving him, for good, she took a deep breath, one last time. Her voice was solemn, as she spoke, and her eyes shone like crystals. With an appearance that struck him as altogether serious, she declared;

“I think there’s always something left to discover, but you don’t always have to seek so hard.”

And indeed, he knew.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Quote of the day...from a wise guy named Brian!


"I live in my head too much"

yes, Brian May said that, or is referred to as having said that, reportedly stated or whatever, and I can't help but recognizing that feeling, and feeling that same way perhaps a little too often, and I guess it just defines who I am, as a person; furthermore, if it makes me just a bit - an inch - similar to my Greatest Hero of All Time, then it can't be any better, now, can it? :)

Monday, December 04, 2006

"Face to face"

The "I'll start writing and see where it takes me"-project, part...infinite.
Possibly, and probably, up for some editing later on. But for the moment, and the time being, here goes:

The woman sat down in front of him, sporting the body language of an unloaded garbage container. He reckoned it was mostly due to her being ordered to sit her bloody ass down on a quite unsteady spindleback chair, close to the ugly, long side wall of the narrow and almost claustrophobic interrogation room. The only way she could demonstrate her contempt: behaving like an unwilling, little bitch. No less than he had expected, and his preparedness pleased him. She would not manage to completely put him off this time. Hopefully.

The target for today’s massive questioning was wearing a grey hood, ten sizes too big, and some truly unfitting, black jeans. He never seemed to understand how a woman with such a nice, slim figure could dress so carelessly. It was as though she deliberately made an effort to look clumsy and even unattractive, despite her lean features. Perhaps it was just a matter of self-defence. Posing as cool and untouchable or something like that; anyway, he could not fathom the slightest bit of it. And she did not really succeed, either, for that matter. Her looks were describable as nothing short of beautiful. Plus, the sloppiness had little effect on the unceasing sparkling of her brown eyes in the dim light of the shadeless light bulb, just above her mass of brown hair. Also intensely shining, the curls fell loosely around the symmetrical, slender face. In combination with her blood-red, full lips and immaculate skin, this resulted in the angel-like appearance she had become immensely famous for; in the minds of numerous (lest to say all) police officers over the later years. When referred to during their archetypical and serious cop-to-cop-conversations, she always came out as "the angel". A significantly merciless one, though; an angel of death, in order to waste another cliché. Regardless of the cruel context, and regardless of how the cruelty increased, the policemen spoke of her in a manner close to awe. Reluctant to define it as actual respect, because they all hated her too much, he still found the resemblance to it being pretty close. And of course, she never ceased to amaze him. In fact, he had yet to meet a more – whatever implication the word might lead to – fascinating killer. Her personality captivated him, and her background history was horrid enough to flabbergast any cold copper-fuck; which again was the label she had chosen when addressing them during interview situations. Her hardcore-lingo equalled that of any colleague he was acquainted with. Similarly, her variety of “past experiences” and thereby long-developed “abilities” to handle copper-fucks like him, for instance, were more than disturbing.

The angel could handle them and she could handle them well. Based on their mutually despising each other, any solution to the conflict between the two parties had so far been impossible to find. But after all those weeks and months of exhausting work, long hours on the night shift and buckets of coffee, he had told his seething anger and brooding frustration that it was about time he gave her one, last chance. He deserved a little co-operation now. And when he stepped into the interrogation room earlier that morning, he had – in consequence of this decisiveness and the pathetic, high hopes – yearned to watch that perfect face of hers turn pale. Desperately longing for some success, to finally penetrate her shield of insufferable non-response; he was prepared to destroy her. At least figuratively speaking. He would crush her, beat her, defeat her.

Oh yes; that was what he kept telling himself. But however promising his intensions and tireless preparations had seemed to him, prior to the meeting itself, he ended up heavily disappointed. Once more, he came to find himself met with silence, and silence only. A repetition of their previous moments together; down to the last, fucking detail. There was no help in her persistent equivocation; she had never given them any assistance. Too bright, too clever and too…unsettling. Such were his guesses. But neither his own actions nor her methods were really explainable to him. He observed her hostile movements; her aggressive lighting of the cigarette which a young delegate offered her, the steady thumping of her boot soles against the linoleum floor. Her ever-so-closed face. Her entire attitude was indeed reserved, to an extreme extent, and he realized getting close to the truth remained an act of absolute improbability. What’s underneath will stay underneath, as his friend Jonah had put it. For the moment, he was simply too tired. And - although he was aware it would prove difficult, he intended to call it quits with a minimum of dignity left. Hence he lifted his pen, pointed it at her with a somewhat shaky finger, and looked down at his desk while he spoke. “That will be all for today.” She lifted an eyebrow. She lifted an eyebrow and kept looking at him, while he was continuously staring at the edge of the dirty table. Her non-existing shyness, her strength, her total, disrespectful arrogance out-manoeuvred him.

The only response! Two hours of his precious time; two hours of uncomfortable, seizing-her-up stress, and all she offered him was a bloody lift of an eyebrow! “Get out”, he whispered, his voice stinging with the awareness of their unfinished business. She did not blink. “Or”, he continued relentlessly, “I swear, I’m gonna kill you.” And then he understood what he had just said, and he condemned his own stupidity, his thoughtlessness. So unbelievably unprofessional! No wonder she gave him that icy laughter. A puff of breath, more like it; a clearing of the throat, or even a croak. But no; it was not really any such. There was nothing accidental about her actions, he knew too well, and this was plain laughing. She was mocking him and unfortunately, she was quite right in doing so. Unable to stand her celebration of inevitable victory, he therefore repeated his order. Get out. And she did; she rose from the unsteady, old chair and gave him another, vague grin. The corners of her mouth hardly moving, yet it was so evident to him, he could have cried. “Bye-bye, Anderson”, she told him. “See you soon, then.”

And he knew the angel was right. Her precision was irreproachable and she was inexorably...hauntingly...right.

As always.

Breaking up is hard to do

Too much Elton John as well, now, but at least I get inspired...!
So: for all you...lovebirds out there.

"Cutting edge & growing pains"
by Scaranouche the po(t)et

a walk in the park
a talk in the dark
corners around and
wonders abound and

I feel like sending you off now
Just flick a switch and you'd be gone
But so, when silliness interferes
You're back to where you started again

a chain for your mind
a brain for your kind
sound come across and
bound come the loss &

I think I'd better hang up on the phone now
Realizing how second chances are no good at this point
When we've passed the terms of understanding
And we still hit our heads against the wall repeatedly

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Sonic stuff & and a kind-of-calendar

This is my attempt of creating yet another "proper blog".
Also, my attempt of a - well, a version of a - christmas calendar.

Yeah right. Nice try, anyway!

Momentary mood:
Sleepy-head. Wakey wakey eggs and bakey. And buried alive with cowboy boots and some kung fu-tricks. Ok, enough about that.

Quote of the day:
"Who looks at a screwdriver and thinks; hmmm, nice, but could be a little more sonic?!"- Capt. Jack Harkness. Friend of the Doctor and head of Torchwood and a terrible charmer. What a hunk! LOL!

Music of the day:
Elton John - Greatest Hits - lalalalala someone saved my life tonight lalala *piano tune-in* mhmhmhm...and don't go breaking my heart! NO! Lalala...

Nick of the day:
As NOT seen anywhere. Just popped up in my head, honestly. "Hostess of the heartbreaker's hotel". Kinda cool. Oh, must have been listening too much to Suzie Quatro. Who is my hero, by the way. ONE of my heroes. And she's definately the toughest, slyest, smartest chick of rock'n'roll! No-one compares to Suzie!

Movie of the day:
"The Queen" - at the local theatre, fine seats and a good experience all over...Since everyone else is praising Helen Mirren, and quite right too, I'll give some credit to another actor as well. Michael Sheen, as Tony Blair, sheer brilliance from beginning to end, and he isn't ugly...! I missed Brian May, though, litterally speaking and on the roof! Haha!

Fact of the day:
There is hardly any way you can watch a current british movie or TV series without - at some point - encountering David Tennant. Seriously, the man is EVERYWHERE! Someone's probably damn happy about that, too. See, me - I'm not *too* fond of him. He succeeded Christopher Eccleston, which is never a fortunate thing, and which I won't ever forgive him for, and that sort of left him with little chance in the first place. But he IS a great actor, I must admit. And I warmed up to him throughout series 2, since he did do a wonderful job. But nothing compares to Chris either...sadly!

Book of the day:
Having finished my exams, I'm not reading school-related, factual literature anymore, but I have yet to start Cecelia Ahern's "P.S. I love you". I still look forward to reading - a lot - I just haven't found the time. YET, that is.

Food of the day:
I dig chocolate. Dig and dig in. But also, I have to say, roastbeef. Lovely. And cakes. My God, I love cakes. It's an addiction. Not a healthy one, but from time to time, pleasure by far overcomes and outruns health. And I am tempted to believe THAT is, in itself, essentially *healthy*!

Most encountered word of the day:
"Sex". Funny thing. Apart from frequently meeting the face of this certain, suit-wearing guy with glasses and a strange smile, I have a tendency to discover the word "sex" in the strangest of places. Not like I'm obsessed with it, OR particularly interested in searching around for it, I just...find it; in different situations, different contexts, sometimes totally out of place. I'm stalked by "sex", how funny does *that* sound?!

Oh, well. I just can't do this, now, can I? Haha!! :) But it's kind of a fun experience, though. Maybe I'll try again later! AND - it's a very original christmas calendar, isn't it? Adding the copyright then, just in case...! COPYRIGHT SCARAMOUCHE, ALL RIGHTS SERVED!!!

NOW: as for the appropriate ending/finale/whatever...here goes!
"Luvya, everyone, weeeheee, I'm like sooo internet-freak and super-uptodate and really hot and trendy, yeah? I should really start videoblogging on youtube soon, too, because I have this *need*, see, to express my feelings and stuff. To really communicate and spread a message to the world, to tell people about me and my life, and my friends, and depict my life, sort of, just show people what I'm doing in the evenings, yeah, because I have like sooo much important to talk about and tell to people and I believe that everyone's like soooo unique and that's the important message we, as bloggers, can emphasize and make the people of this planet understand, and I'm soooo into deep shit now, hihihihihi, and maybe I'll stop wearing panties when I go out on the town, like Britney and Paris, and see what THAT leads to, yeah? They're like soooo trendsetters, though, really - I mean, sooo cool chicks, though, and I luuuuv the sassy bitchy loook, see?"

PARENTAL ADVISORY: BAD ROLEMODELS. INDEED.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Den som venter på noe godt, osv! :)

  • Queen DRIVER og jobber med nytt album...ifølge Brian May!
  • Johan Harstad DRIVER på sin nye bok...stadig ifølge ham selv!
  • Doctor Who KOMMER TILBAKE på norske TV-skjermer...ifølge mail fra NRK1!
  • James Bond KOMMER TILBAKE...ifølge siste linjen i rulleteksten til Casino Royale!
  • Gerard Butler BLIR snart å se på norske kinoer...ifølge hans egen hjemmeside som lover "world-wide" releases!
  • Og jeg BLIR lykkelig av å ha masse å glede meg til! Yey!

Hihi...for å sitere Brian, igjen, "dette er så nærme en tradisjonell blogg som denne "såpeboksen" - eller i mitt tilfelle; "story-storage" - noensinne kommer til å bli."

Og snart kan jeg åpne første luke i julekalenderen min! Weee!

Running on...

THIS IS MY 50TH BLOG ENTRY!!! WOOOHOOO! *CELEBRATING*
(CHAMPAGNE AND BALLROOM-DRESSES ALL THE WAY!)

"Bonded by love"
by Scaramouche, the po(t)et
...it's about this guy that I'm quite fond of - still!

Breathing fire
into tunnels of ice
The spinning
whirl of a gunbarrel
Onto the ground I throw myself
Searching cover from the tremor

Kissing off pain
with a short-lived smile
Evasiveness remains
my most prominent feauture
The dead of the night is always blendingly cold,
then come the explosions from the morning light

Fragility is my greatest fear
Scared to the bone
Though my hands are never shaking
I'm bonded by love
It keeps me safe and sound as I run
from all the harm

Increasing the speed
And the plotting narrows down
See shadows rising
sensing what I can't turn my back on
You don't ask any questions, you're part of the facts
There's won't be no escape, so you rise to the occasion

Never to linger
and never have to stay
Never watch them leave
just continue moving on
For professionality is all, even when the talents weaken
Trying not to burn myself on the matches of life and love

Confrontations are my greatest fears
Scared to the bone
Though maintaining control with ease,
I'm bonded by love
It keeps me safe, although I'm running
under constant attack

Yes, I'm bonded by love
It keeps me safe, but also keeps me running,
never looking back

Nok, nå!

Holdt på å sette både det ene og det andre i halsen i dag, da jeg var så uheldig (og tankeløs) at jeg gikk inn på www.seher.no for å lese litt kjendissladder...Lett avkobling fra studier etc., tenkte jeg. Ja, så feil kan man ta!

Hva er det første som møter meg inne på Se og Hørs internettorgan? JO! Digert bilde av Daniel Craig AKA James Bond, eller var det omvendt, i badeshorts og derunder den "oppsiktsvekkende" (eller særdeles spekulative) overskriften: "naken og homo"! Jaha, konkluderte jeg, Craig skal spille homofil og gjøre nakenscener i sin nye film, flott, dette er bare et illustrasjonsbilde, fair enough, la oss nu lese om Craig the Clowns nye prosjekter...og hva får jeg opp? Herre...

"Daniel Craig vil revolusjonere AGENT 007"!!! Oh no! Ifølge Se og Hør, som man da BØR og SKAL ta med en klype salt, vil Craig gjerne ha Bond involvert i homoerotiske scener i oppfølgeren til Casino Royale og vil, i tillegg, like gjerne vise frem det Se Og Hør refererer til som "familiejuvelene". Til "glede" for mannlige og kvinnelige fans. Ha ha ha. Men dette er ikke det verste - neida! BEGRUNNELSEN for denne fantastiste idéen skulle Mr. Craig også ha frem, og den var følgende: "Jeg tror at fans i dag ville ha godtatt det. Se bare på den britiske TV-serien "Doctor Who" - den har inneholdt homofile scener og ingen bryr seg om det."

Han er sitert som "den barske skuespilleren" og hvis det er et snev av sannhet i dette her, hvilket vi alle håper og antar at det ikke er, så...vel....aaaaaargh! La meg kort oppsummere: jeg har, punkt én, INGENTING imot homofile. Men James Bond er ikke homo. Finito, finale. Og dét er da hverken The Doctor eller Captain Jack heller! Scenen Craig refererer til var en avskjedsnuss mellom disse to, på Jacks initiativ, med bakgrunn i at de måtte skille lag - muligens for alltid - i kampen for å redde jorden fra Dalek'er og annen ondskap. Og ikke minst; Jack Harkness flørter med alle! Han kysset Rose også; han er bifil, din tufs! Daniel Craig, gå og skam deg!

Vi har fått NOK revolusjonering og "nyskapning" nå. Jeg prøver å like deg, jeg prøver å like den nye Bond-filmen, men du gjør det søren ikke enkelt! (HVIS det er sant...kan jo ikke være det!) Altså: ikke mer nå. Vær så snill. Daniel Craig, hold kjeft! - og kan noen legge ned Se og Hør??? Jeg ber på mine knær! Jeg har ikke godt av dette!

MED FORBEHOLD OM AT DET HELE BARE ER PISS: JEG SER FREM TIL Å KOMME MED EN DEMENTI...SAKEN OPPDATERES FORTLØPENDE!

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Considerably easier! **SPOILER WARNING**

Considering the fact that my James Bond-review was (...considerably!) waaaay too long, here's the result of another and much better idea; a pro's and con's list based on the movie, what I really liked and what I really didn't like, and maybe that will make it easier to really make up my mind on whether I liked it or hated it on the whole. Cos that is a great issue right now, and I can't seem to figure it out. Fully. This is, then, mostly a summary of my...well, summary, but I've included details which I left out or forgotten when writing my review.

And as the bright-side-of-life person I truly am, I'll start with all that made me stay in my seat throuout the film and kept me from totally losing it...out of frustration. The numbers on the two different list correspond, though, and must thus be read in relation to one another...enjoy!

And here we go:

GOOD:
  1. Daniel Craig's voice. It's perfect. And it's actually far hotter than the man himself.
  2. Daniel Craig and Eva Green as a couple. When they finally get together. It looks totally sweet, and the chemistry is evident. Bravo! The scenes where they guess each other's pasts, the scenes where they (litterally) dress each other up, the scenes where the relationship finally gets to shine through and they induldge in it completely...amazing. Made this girl happy!
  3. AND: that also proves that in order to make a Bond-movie work you do indeed need sailboats, a nice place for a holiday (ergo beaches) a cool set of clothes and accessories, drinks and fancy gadgets. Don't lose that style, please! Just look at the scene from the opening with the truck. I laughed so much, my stomach ached. Plus; the back-to-the-80's conversations with Mathis. Moore/Dalton-esque strategy game; archetypal Bond, but with a twist! And that fantastic opening sequence in its entirety. Yep, best ever. Which says a little...
  4. ...aaand which reminds me: great stunts! VERY little sci-fi tech and green-screen special effects! And scaringly realistic car crashes!
  5. The shower scene. Perhaps one of the best scenes from a Bond-movie, ever. In my humble opinion. Brought such emotion and examples of great acting to the film, plus we got to see James in his tux AND it proved how he can actually treat women nicely and not only see them as items with which he only wants to make love, never talk. Or care for. When James put his arm around Vesper and comforted her, so tenderly, the atmosphere in the theatre was almost electric and it was so quiet you could feel the tension. What a powerful scene!
  6. The film is not too long. What's the matter with all those people who want to cut everything down to a maximum 80 minutes? Casino Royale was never, NEVER, boring - if there's one major upside to this movie, it's the fact that it takes time to dwell and linger on the important factors, properly, not just hurry on. Yet it maintains it fast pace... Impressive!
  7. The scripts. For the first time in Bond history: no embarassing silences. And no silly jokes! Good one-liners all the way! Personal favourites; "I seized you up the moment I met you", "That last hand...almost killed me!" (a glimpse of Sean Connery there!) and that you stripped my armour from me-comment. Sweet. The plot is complicated, but not incomprehensible. And it's got a sense of logic which is rare, compared to the rest of the Bond-saga. It's all got to do with the new, realistic touch...in this case; for the better.
  8. The wardrobe. Everyone but Bond himself (save for the tuxedo he wears at the casino) have been provided nicey clothes. All the girls' dresses, Eva Green's hats, that Solange-girl's green bikini and Mads Mikkelsen's outifts...yummy!! Me want!!
  9. The locations. Best ever. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I feel like going on holiday!
  10. Bond is not Superman, Bond is a man, for better or worse. Better: he has a past, he has a soul, he has a heart and he has something to say, meaning good lines that also make sense in respect of coherence. Bond shows human reactions to human problems and we get a look beyond that impregnable shield. Yey!
  11. The music. David Arnold and Chris Cornell, I'm gobsmacked. Most folks seem to disregard, even despise, the new Bond-theme. Out of place, blablabla. I totally disagree! It actually fit the film's image and style very well...I think.
  12. The very last lines. No comment necessary; just pure pleasure. And he finally got that Bond-look right. That twinkle in the corner of his eye, that wry smile, that cold precision. The glimmer. A brilliant ending - and a great way to lead up to and prepare us for a next chapter. It also leaves us with hope that not only will James Bond return, he will be more like himself. The Bond we've got to know, just - perhaps - a better person. A more complex and interesting guy; that seems the idea. Hopefuly, they'll carry out the adjustments and make the required improvements. But do keep the GOOD, new parts!

BAD:

  1. Ok, so Daniel Craig worked out (A LOT!) and put on some (ooor A LOT of) muscles for this role. That doesn't mean he has to bare his chest every five seconds. Neither should he have to wear mini-mini, ice-blue and ugly swim-panties that looks pathetic on him and WHY did it seem like he was part of a wet-T-shirt competition all the time?!
  2. It did take a while before Vesper stopped being a bitch and started warming up to our main man. She was intended to be a cool chick, with brains, and that's all fine. She was, too. But that shouldn't suggest a complete lack of sensuality and a sour, arrogant expression! Teasing and arguing with Bond is totally in order, but why make it so uncomfortable to watch; so...stung with deep-rooted conflict? Smartness, fun, battle of wits, seizing each other up - not fighting like an old, married couple. But it did get better...!
  3. WHERE IS Q????!!!! And Moneypenny? Where's the FUN STUFF?! And why the hell IS he driving a fucking FORD?! He does get an Aston Martin after a while, and it sure looks awesome, but hey - he's not supposed to drive anything else!! Unless it's a submarine/car-combo or has got wings!
  4. BUT: great stunts, alright, but why does James have to go to a resort-like place to recover all of a sudden? We want an invulnerable Mr. Bond, not a wimp in a night gown. For the umpteenth time. Complain or not; James is a bit out of the ordinary and beyond human. Deal with it. And don't ruin it. I understand that he gets hurt and I like the fact that his wounds need more time to heal. But he should go down in style, not doze off in a wheelchair. Although, he looked kinda cute. (But AAARGH, that's so not BOND!)
  5. Yep, the shower scene was wonderful - too bad they ruined the torture scene AND the ending. First one was ruined by misplaced laughter...and a horrible joke. It was supposed to be cool, but the way I see it - it made Mr. Bond look like a fool. And I hardly think that was the point, even though it rhymes. (...) The latter just seemed out of place, and I've heard I'm not the only one who thinks so. Actually, the ending could have been longer! It should have been built more up to and explained further, and better. The way things came out, it seemed groped more or less out of nowhere.
  6. The movie might not be too long. And it definately sticks to its own path all the way and is always true to this new idea and the new Bond. It's just that I don't really like the "new and darker" side of Bond. Not really. He is at the beginning of his career, he is frustrated and inexperienced, blabla. But how can anyone explain the transformation into the successor (eeer, predecessor???) Roger Moore after seing this? Did he undergo some kind of serious treatment or what? Maybe they want to remake the entire anthology, and re-do the Bond-franchise. But why don't they rather invent a new character, a new agent instead? Bond is Bond, and you can't change EVERYTHING. Considering CR, they seem well on their way in doing that. Unless they're in a process of regressive tranrformation, of course. Let's hope so!
  7. Yeah, the scripts are excellent. EXCEPT, of course, for that "I don't give a damn"-line and the angry, near the end-comment "The bitch is dead", which I - due to the context - can understand, but it just didn't fit in. I also miss the old Bond-humour and the ironic charm and the "I'll take on anyone, anytime"-attitude.
  8. Personally, I just can't get used to Bond in a dirty hood and jeans, sporting a see-through, torn, white T-shirt. It seems wrong. Still and forever.
  9. Big-bara-boom in Venice. Pfff.
  10. For worse: Bond starts off as a brute and a bully and it doesn't suit the world's #1 gentleman. At all. Earlier on, Bond always retained a minimum of control over the situation, even when Tracy died (sniff, sniff...), but here he loses it too frequently. I mean, literally. Additionally, Daniel Craig needs to work out his mimic, not just his abs. And - furthermore - why do we have to inspect the house and family life of M, of all people? Sort of destroys the myth, don't it? And no-one really knows her full name, that's the way it's always been!! And when did she start swearing so much? Hey! Tactics, Madam! The "Queen of Numbers" and head of her Majesty's Secret Service doesn't behave like a car salesman.
  11. I miss the Bond-tune. I do. I get my share near the end, but it doesn't quite suffice. And the spilled-over-screen blood looks like ketchup.
  12. I was sceptical at first, and I still am. Slightly. But like I said, they managed to make one hell of an action-movie, with its own ways and twists, and its own look. That's all fine. They didn't slip and fall. The movie kind of failed in its entirety, as a Bond-film, but not because of some, silly scenes. More due to the fact that Craig isn't the Bond we know. He is a new Bond that it takes time to get used to, and this was just a bit too much at one time. We get bombarded with "21st century James" for 2 & 1/2 hours and in the process, some essential aspects of the OLD James is forgotten. Don't mess so much with the traditions. At least, try to be gentle and don't get it wrong! Then maybe I'll get rid of my scepticism, too.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

James Bond review

Ok, what to write...my goodness...
I was at the JB-premiere last night, finally getting to see the new and much anticipated Casino Royale... It was very exciting and very exhausting. And here follows my conclusion after 2 hours and 20 minutes of Daniel Craig as James Bond...

REVIEW: CASINO ROYALE (Dir. Martin Campbell)

First of all; yes, I am one of those anti-Daniel Craig folks who had almost given up this entire project in mid-production. I found the thought of a blonde, brute-looking and not very likeable chap to play one of my all time-favourite movie-characters rather disturbing. BUT honestly, I did go the theatre with an open mind, eager to actually be proved wrong and let Mr. Craig convince me that he was capable of taking on the difficult task of following (my personal) Bond-favourite Pierce Brosnan. I sooo wanted to say, "Wow, was I mistaken, and WOW was he great." I sooo wanted to adore this first look on a NEW Bond-era and a brand NEW, less-effects-more-acting chapter in the M16-agent saga.

Unfortunately, that won't be the case. I must say, though, that I was NOT as heavily disappointed as I had feared; in fact, my smile stayed on during half of the movie, in all, and Daniel isn't THAT bad. He is definately in need of serious improvement and his version of Bond hardly lives up to the performances of, say, Connery and Dalton. And especially not Pierce Brosnan, whose brilliance the fans had got pleasantly used to. Living up to that isn't easy, of course, and Craig had a hard time delivering his part as the NEW Bond. This is indeed far from the old outings of 007, this is truly innovative; for better or worse. At times, and this is perhaps my most pressing aspect of critique, I really felt like I was watching another "Mission Impossible" or Jason Bourne-movie. It just wasn't very Bond-like. Some people like that, some people don't. As an old-times Bond-fan, I think I belong with the latter. And I am sorry to say so.

First and foremost because this is no bad movie. Certainly not! Director Martin Campbell does a fantastic job and it all LOOKS very nice. Colourful, fancy cinematography. The actors do their best (I hope!), or at least it seems to, and there are these absolutely wonderful sequences when I was completely happy, and judging from the faces around me; it was a shared feeling. I'll start with the praise, since it - in the end - is most important and since CR on the whole turned out an OK experience. There are the pretty girls and the luxurious locations and the eeeevil villains. Marvellous. Lots and lots of action-sequences, a fantastic one with parkour-moves and free-running, and the romance between James and Vesper Lynd (Eva Greeen), who's slowly warming up to our hero, is well-executed. Jeffrey Wright makes a welcome appearance as the long-gone and heavily missed Felix Leiter. Bond shows off a more believable side, and that works to some extent. The casino-shots last a bit too long, but they're not boring. No, I was never bored and I don't think the movie was too long. Indeed the problem does not apply to the movie itself, but to what they're trying to communicate, what the cast & crew are trying to show us. In a way, they ridicule the old films. And in a way they pay tribute to them. In a way they're trying to stick to the old plot, in a way they're trying to deviate from it as much as they can.


And well, I have never had such trouble deciding on whether I like a movie or not!

For then again, some scenes are almost unbearable. Bond is such a rough killer with little charm, especially at first, and M swears more in this Bond-movie than I've heard her do throughout the entire rest of the anthology. Prior to the premiere, I stated that I was afraid the film would lack STYLE. And it did. I usually leave the theatre with a very particular notion after watching Bond-movies. This time, I didn't feel much at all.

Cos...there are all these moments of pure - yes, there's no other possible description - disappointment! And I miss Q and Moneypenny. I miss the Bond-tune, the Bond lifestyle. When James Bond orders a martini and is asked whether he wants it shaken or stirred, he is not supposed to say "Do I look like I give a damn?". I miss the tuxedo and the fast, überclassy cars. James Bond dressed in a hood and a dirty T-shirt, driving a FORD? What the hell? Bond in a hospital, alright, but then recovering from the wounds in a night-gown?! Bond is killing innocent people, Bond doesn't think twice before he does, well, anything! - and Bond is just....not himself. Bad hair-day, also. Bad day in general, I believe. This just ISN'T Bond!! Sorry, Craig and everyone else working on this movie, but if you tried to make Bond 21, you failed...

However, there's nothing seriously wrong with the plot or the actors or these NEW things; yes, it could probably have worked really fine, if they had added some of the well-known elements to show what kind of movie they were trying to make. But this is just too modern, or whatever they want to call it, it's just too different - in my opinion. The production company has argued that they tried to make Bond more human and trustworthy. The problem is; he never was so...down-to-earth, in a negative sense. Not the Bond we've got used to. He is not a total brute and he is not a bully. He is a gentleman, and if there's one thing Daniel Craig IS NOT, it's gentle. Except for some scenes concerning the realtionship with Vesper, but eventually - and without spoiling anything - he is forced to forget about that too.

Furthermore, I miss the twinkle in the eye, I miss the dry humour, the gags, I miss the supernatural and over-the-top. The elegance. I miss the aura of British upper-class, the eccentricity and I miss the archetypal invulnerability. I miss the very particular features that made James Bond unique and recognizable! This is a great actionflick, and if this WAS a "M:I" or Jason Bourne-movie, I'd conclude by saying "more than good enough" and "highly entertaining". But Bond, James Bond should stand out as something else. Not this. Not just another one of those, etc. I look forward to the contination of the series, which is inexorably on its way, but please bring the more traditional and BOND-ish back into the dossier! PLEASE!

Friday, November 24, 2006

In loving memory...Freddie!

24/11 - it's been 15 years since we were deprived of the ever so amazing, number one rock-vocalist, Mr. Freddie Mercury. Head of the brilliant Queen, a natural centre & star of every crowd and, likewise, taking over & "uplifting" every show. Who can forget Wembley 1986? (I don't remember, cos I wasn't born, but those who were there most certainly do! And I've got the DVD!)

This "Mr. Bad Guy" will always be a personal idol and favourite of mine. Queen-fans all over the planet still mourn the loss... And - hopefully - Freddie will be remembered today by all these, and several more... With joy, of course, and admiration - because of his unargued talent and ever-lasting, fantastic contribution to music history. Only the good die young! ...but fortunately, Freddie's memory lingers, along with what he left behind - and by listening to and promoting his music, we can pay tribute to the artist genius he truly was!

Love you, Fred, rest in peace!
Rock on, wherever you are... :)

groupies forever

"groupie/goldie"
by Scaramouche the rocker-po(t)et

she wears
tight leather pants
real tigerskin trousers
like Roger Taylor
she screams
hands stretched out
her arms open wide
like Cozy Powell
she beats
sounds piercing through
concrete, so perplexed
like Phil Rudd
she moves
hair blowing freely
muscles coming loose
like any other
drummer
groupie

footnotes:
R. Taylor - drummer of world's greatest band (beyond any doubt!), QUEEN
C. Powell - R.I.P! - friend of Brian May and a favourite musician of mine
P. Rudd - drummer of world's most lovable, hardcore rock-group, AC/DC
and - with thanks to Goldie Hawn, in particular for her role in "The Banger Sisters"

Harmonious (?) Harstad & the New Novel

Eller: ting å glede seg til...

Johan Harstad er i full gang med arbeidet på sin nye bok, leser jeg på bloggen hans, O LYKKE!!!, og boken handler, i følge ham selv, om "både om det ene og det andre" - like meddelsom og avslørende som vanlig, med andre ord... Stemingen i boken beskrives som "optimistiske greier", hvoretter følger sitat; "Drop the bomb, exterminate them all". Noe sier meg at Herr Harstad jobber seg til økende frustrasjon? Men ok, han jobber i allefall. Hardt og intensivt, virker det som. Arbeidstittelen er ST04 og "den blir ferdig når den blir ferdig og kommer ut når den kommer ut." Jeg hopper opp og ned uten å lage for mye bråk og rabalder og kommer med like dempede, men særdeles ekstatiske gledeshyl. Håper Yndlingsforfatteren blir fornøyd med resultatet til slutt - og ser frem til å få litt skikkelig, norsk kvalitetslitteratur i hendene igjen. Hurra!

I mellomtiden leses Ambulanse på nytt, for - tja, si det - 6. gang? ...eller noe.

Og som den gode kildekritiker og annen type kritisk røst jeg vitterlig er, må jeg føre opp - kilde: http://www.forfatterbloggen.no/roller/page/harstad

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Småting...store ting...planer...og selvinnsikt!

  • Gratulerer med 22-årsdagen til min ABSOLUTTE favorittskuespillerinne i hele verden: SCARLETT JOHANSSON (og jeg vet at det egentlig var i går, men pytt!)
  • Jeg er ikke helt sikker på om jeg gleder meg til den nye Bond-filmen, men skal nå se den likevel...fått billetter har jeg også...prøver å berolige meg selv ved å trekke følgende forhåndsslutning: HVIS de følger Ian Flemings opprinnelige intensjoner ang. karakteren, kan det umulig være altfor ille...men Daniel Craig har en ganske omfattende overbevisnings-jobb foran seg, og BØR ikke skuffe...
  • Jeg vil ha jobb...som Bond-dame! (Selv om den nye filmen skulle vise seg å være aldeles elendig...) Men: i såfall vil jeg skrive manus og regissere og bedrive re-casting i tillegg. Definitivt.
  • OG: noen må snart fatte og begripe at Modesty Blaise bør filmaiseres...på ordentlig...med Quentin som regissør, selvsagt, og med - HVEM???!!! - som Modesty...tja...følg med, dette kan bli spennende...!
  • Morsomt å fotografere, men ikke like moro å bli fotografert
  • Fisk er nammenam så lenge en ikke lager det selv
  • Jeg vil ha jobb...kanskje ikke som kokk, men bartender hadde vært kult! Noen som kjenner noen som kjenner noen som kjenner noen som kan legge inn et ovestrømmende anbefalende ord for meg...? *smile smile veldig pent og vifte med øyevippene*
  • Tiden flyr så veldig fort og dagene passerer som i en tåke av travelhet...snart er de umulig å skille fra hverandre også...muligens ikke bare et godt tegn...?
  • Det er ikke trygt å ha pengene i banken, spesielt ikke når banken begynner å forsyne seg av dem til uvisse formål
  • Jeg VIL at NRK skal sende Doctor Who... SNUFS... slutt på reprisene og ingen ny sesong i sikte... SNUFS!!!
  • Jeg vil ha jobb...som kompanjong til en tidsreisende Doctor! Dette blir jo mer og mer realistisk...ja, jeg vil faktisk dra til månen og jeg vil ha med meg en råkjekk brite som visstnok er halvt alien..."fantastic!"...hihihi
  • Det er en egen lukt, lys og stemning på sånne (natt)busser...vender meg aldri til det, men det er da ganske kos...så mye kollektivtrafikk som jeg benytter meg av nå burde jeg vel bli preget av det...bare vent; jeg dukker snart opp med sånt sløvt, ufokusert, ut-i-ingenting blikk og begynner å kle meg i alleværsjakke og diskutere værmeldingen
  • "If you think that this is cruel then you should see what my friends do..." - sitat The Pipettes. Fine bandet!
  • Jeg vil ha jobb...som pianist for et hot rockeband! Og før jeg kommer på flere glimrende ambisjoner og fremtidsplaner, tror jeg det er på tide å takke for meg - for i kveld! God natt og ... ta til dere alle de sanseinntrykk, påvirkningsmidler & engasjerende elementer som vår verden har å tilby...hva jeg enn måtte mene med det...! ;)

Monday, November 13, 2006

Happy Birthday, Mr. Butler!!! Luv ya!

Men, når vi snakker om unntak...og for å være litt mer oppbyggelig-opptimistisk med hensyn til Hollywood og filmbransjen generelt sin fremtid...I dag er det en fyr ved navn Gerard James Butler som fyller 37 år og han kan gi hvemsomhelst troen tilbake på en lys fremtid for filmsjangeren. Gerry er kanskje sammenlignbar med storheter som Peter O'Toole; derimot er det litt urettferdig å trekke paralleller til andre, så særegen og utpreget er Mr. Butler. Hans dyktighet og sjarm er vanskelig å overgå, etter min mening; han er nå en gang min absolutte *favorittskuespiller* og han er en aldeles fantastisk stilig mann. Som rolletolker, som person, som...hehe...potensiell kjæreste? Jada, jeg innrømmer det, "I've got a crush on Gerry". I likhet med fjorten millioner andre jenter, og det sier litt. MEN! Han er altså ikke bare en kjekkas...han er et Operafantom av klasse og en barsk Huner-konge og en mystisk skinnjakke-kledd og en foretaksom arkeolog og en helt av en drage-nedkjemper. Han er min, min, min "fine mannen". Flinke Gerry er 37, så gratulerer med dagen! Håper du har en super dag, hvor du måtte befinne deg. Værsåsnill å gå foran med et godt eksempel, kjære, vis hva du kan!! Gerry fortjener all den heder og ære og stjernestatus han kan få...Glede seg masse til "300" og ønske Gerry en lang og produktiv og lykkelig fremtid...Så lenge han er tilstede i verden er i allefall fansen hans overstadig lykkelige...! SKÅL FOR BUTLER'N! (Kan han SNART få spille James Bond???)

Jeg vil ha en tidsmaskin...

Hvorfor var filmene mye bedre før i tiden?

Altså...ikke alle...der finnes unntak...og det lages en del bra i dag også. Jeg så for eksempel nettopp "The Departed", en fantastisk film, men generelt sett: det lages ikke skikkelige klassikere lenger! Overvar akkurat "Lawrence of Arabia", et utsøkt epos, med Peter O'Toole som leverer en ubeskrivelig god rolletolking. Ubeskrivelig!! Og han har med seg Omar Sharif, Anthony Quinn og ALEC GUINESS! Regien er ved David Lean og musikken er så nydelig at det gjør vondt. Trenger man mer for å bli lykkelig? Det er noe med dagens filmer og deres holdbarthetspotensiale...når det gjelder kultstatus og sånt; vi har jo alltids Quentin. Men BORTSETT FRA Q.T. ... og Wachovski-brødrene, Robert Rodriguez, Luc Besson, Brian DePalma, Tony Scott, J.-P. Jeunet (Amelie-mannen), Wong Kar-Wai, Scorsese, George Lucas i et sjeldent inspirert øyeblikk og Coppola-familien...

Bortsett fra det disse (og en håndfull geniale skuespillere) hoster opp, lages det så utrolig mye drit! Det er stort sett bare dataanimasjon og green-goblin-screen og anorektiske, overbetalte blondinebimboer og picture-perfect hunks. Jeg savner filmer med virkelig, overveldende effekt; àla Casablanca, Tatt av Vinden, Once Upon a Time in the West...Jeg savner skuespillere som virkelig går inn for å være talentfulle og realistiske... Skuespillere og regissører som gidder! De som gir litt ekstra og strekker seg for å skape en sensasjonelt bra film. Man klarte det tidligere. Får vi en ny Gudfaren? En ny Scarface? (Og da mener jeg IKKE som dataspill...!) Jeg savner Sergio Leone!!! HULK! Og Steve McQueen!!! Orker nesten ikke tenke på det...og hva gjør vi når Jack Nicholson og Sean Connery kaster inn håndkleet og nevnte Scorsese sitter i rullestol? Kvantitet er ikke alt, og vi må slutte hele tiden å forlange nye filmer og oppfølgere og mere penger og box-office-raiders og tomhjernede, "underholdnings"-blockbusters! Vi må invistere mer krefter og kanskje også penger i hver enkelt produksjon og gi regissører og cast & crew mer å jobbe for! Jeg tror ikke filminnspillinger var så mye mer idylliske før i tiden, folk hadde problemer da óg, men resultatet ble fortsatt som regel bedre enn hva vi får ut av Hollywood i dag! Jeg er lei! Jeg orker ikke mer Superman returns og Batman Begins og James Bond resurrected...hvorav nummer to faktisk ikke er så ille, og sistnevnte har jeg ikke noen formening om ennå, men likevel. Jeg vil ha kvalitet og STIL!! La oss håpe at den nye film noir-trenden kan bidra til at filmskapingen får tilbake gammel glød...og gi de hersens skuespillerne en smekk så de begynner å skuespille igjen. Peter O'Toole fikk meg til å innse i dag at det er noe som mangler.

Og et videre diskjonstema; er det ikke ironisk at vi må kopiere slike nostalgiske eraer, hvorfra blant annet Casablanca stammer, for å vekke til live elegansen på filmlerretet? Jeg undres... Er det ikke merkelig hvordan vi alltid sammenligner med gamle dager, alt var mye bedre før; og likeledes klarer vi aldri å fremskaffe noe som kan være strålende innovativt helt på egen hånd og/eller leve opp til gamle idealer, uten å måtte skryte av det? Vi er altfor kritiske og skaper altfor mye press, samtidig blir det vi får ut av all stressingen mindre og mindre tilfredsstillende. Unntakene finnes, men en dag tar det slutt.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

The Little Pipette

Dedicated to the coooooolest 60's-
looking girl-pop group that ever
came out of Great Britain...YO!!!

[By Scaramouche the Po(t)et]

In the end, there's only one thing
that mastters; making sure that
when the music stops, you have
something to replace the silence
with, for silence is uncomfortable,
my parents always proved, and I
learnt to protect my integrity, and
organize my leisure, in order never
to wake up and find my bed or kitchen
empty, because there is nothing worse
than lacking human presence around,
I know, for when the music stops, and
they are not dancing anymore, there is
no life left in my life and I hate having
not a shit to prove and not a shit to
say, I want to hum and I want to
move and I want to groove, gotta
get out and get it done, sit here and
rot is for any girl but a girl like me!

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Roxy Rocks

5 udødelige Bryan Ferry-sanger, på en stille tirsdagskveld..."Dance Away" er fortsatt den aller fineste Roxy Music/Bryan Ferry-låten, men andre alternativer som kan nevnes når man har hørt den gjennom en del (hundre) ganger, er:

  1. Can't let go
  2. Bitters end
  3. Don't worry baby
  4. While my heart is still beating
  5. I love how you love me

Men det var altså I DAG. I morgen er det kanskje noen helt andre. Tiden går, men Roxy består. Og jeg foretrekker å variere og bringe litt avveksling i mine Roxy-preferanser. Fine, fine bandet - uansett. Bryan Ferry er barsk!! ...og - NRK2 sender Doctor Who i repriser, fortsatt, og Bryan May er i studio igjen og Natalie Portman bidrar til geniale filmer og "Casino Royale"s testvisning mottok god respons og positive kritikker - Daniel Craig er kun en Klovn til det motsatte er bevist, som sagt! Kanskje kan jeg begynne å glede meg...litt? Konklusjonen blir nå, til syvende og sist; det hele fordrer absolutt et smilefjes...! ":)" - pluss en dansende flodhest...?

Filminspirert kokkelering

CONTINUOUSLY EDITED

Matlagingsidéer og min handleliste, påvirket av fine filmer... :)
Liker jeg filmer basert på maten som blir fortært? Muligens... Eller, det gjør dem i det minste ikke dårligere, da...!

  • Opptil flere liter melk (Léon)
  • "Egg in basket" (V for Vendetta - nammenam!)
  • Royaaaale with cheese (Sier seg selv...men okay, da, for uinvidde: Pulp Fiction)
  • Epler (Trinity-filmene...Terrence Hill, du er en eplekjekkas!)
  • Grønnsaker (Star Wars...Hva Luke drev med før han ble Jedi? Han var bonde, selvfølgelig...!)
  • Svart kaffe (Once Upon a Time in the West...At least she does make good coffee...! Beste westernfilmen!!!)
  • Egg og gratenger (The Hours...i dobbel og figurativ og cinematographic betydning...)
  • Sjokolade (Chocolat...yuuuummy...farlig!!!)
  • Pai & popcorn (True Romance...åååå...søtt...)
  • Sushi (Lost in translation)
  • Gryterett (The Bodyguard..altså, her ser jeg alltid for meg Kevin Costner som spiser rett fra gryten med tresleiven...særedeles sjarmerende!!)
  • Uidentifiserbar gugge (The Matrix...jeg liker ikke dette, for all del, men det minner meg alltid om risengrynsgrøt...beige og klumpete og ekkelt...!)
  • Spaghetti (Lady og Landstrykeren...ingen tilleggskommentarer burde være nødvendig her!)
  • Fissssssk (GJETT TRE GANGER. USJ.)...and speaking of which:
  • Ostesufflé (LOTR...ER det virkelig bare jeg som synes at den "lavaen" i store-svarte-skumle-lavagryten ser ut som brent ostesufflé? Med en ring av...noe som ligner kvikksølv? Hihi...Men bra film, da!)
  • Cookies & doughnuts (Murder by Numbers & Miss Undercover...Sandra Bullock's kjennetegn nr. 1: kaker. Kjeks. Smultringer. Nam! Fine damen!!)
  • Supper (In the mood for love...snufs)
  • Helstekt gris (Shrek 2!!!)
  • Muffins og Fish&Chips (Doctor Who...ikke en film, men må med. Og hvem vet, kanskje lager de en film av den en vakker dag også? Meget sterk påvirkningskraft her; fish&chips blir i hvertfall aldri det samme igjen...snufs...Rose på bussen...snufs!!)

Mottakelig for flere forslag folkens! Kan også være at jeg bidrar med flere selv!! Enn så lenge; god middag! Hehehe...Sjallabaluba!

RELEVANT SPØRSMÅL:
HVA SPISER EGENTLIG OPERAFANTOMET???

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Birthday Greetings on a stormy 5th of November...

Happy birthday to two great actress-favourites of mine:
  • Famke Janssen (Dr. Jean Grey/Phoenix of X-men, and Xenia Onatop of GoldenEye) - 41 years old
  • Vivien Leigh (Gone with the Wind, Streetcar Named Desire) - would have been 93 (!) years old

Beautiful, brilliant and...bedevilled??? Haha...Oh well!

Guy Fawkes & The Vendetta...SPOILER WARNING!

"Remember, remember, the 5th of November, gunpowder treason and plot. I see no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent to blow up the King and the Parliament. Three score barrels of powder below, Poor old England to overthrow: By God's providence he was catch'd With a dark lantern and burning match. Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring. Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King! Hip hip hoorah! A penny loaf to feed the Pope. A farthing o' cheese to choke him. A pint of beer to rinse it down. A faggot of sticks to burn him. Burn him in a tub of tar. Burn him like a blazing star. Burn his body from his head. Then we'll say ol' Pope is dead. Hip hip hoorah! Hip hip hoorah!"

Remember, remember...an incredible, fantastic, fascinating and...emotional movie about a certain masked man with a cloak, a Shadow Gallery, a fondness for classical music, explosions & dominoes, a very serious take on revenge...AND a (high level) crush on a young, bald (...which was his doing) journalist-to-be who needed a cold shower (literally!) to exit her trance of ignorance...

In other words: "V for Vendetta"! And, not only a superb film production, but a brilliant graphic novel too... "Equally wonderful to the original script" - there aren't many screen versions of a book one can say that about! Maybe because they are so different, it's actually tolerable...? The movie is more a modernized edition of (or even hommage to) Alan Moore's work and I LOVE it!!! Natalie Portman is marvellous and since I DO have a thing for masked and mysterious gentlemen (who reside in lair-like, gothic environments including grand pianos and candles); Hugo Weaving rocks! The story is very intriguing; scary but interesting. And the chemistry between the two main characters is amazing. Just remember (remember) to view them separately; book AND film, two aspects of the same story. Then, you can also accept the slight changes made in the modern, up-to-date version. Recommended for all politicians out there, by the way. See what cruelty you might come to participate in! And do listen to all dark-haired hunks with a highly poetic manner of speaking! ;)

Favourite Vendetta-moments: various dancing sequences (...), all scenes from the Shadow Gallery, the very romantic and very sad scenes on the station, V tipping the dominoes - and the giant explosion at the end...the whole movie, generally.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Ting som gjør meg glad...på en torsdag...og James! Som IKKE gjør meg bare glad...

Om man blir tykk og dvask av en sånn tilværelse? Tja... Mye mulig. Men ikke de store faresignalene ennå...

  1. Repriser på "Kommissar Rex" - verdens aller beste krimserie, med en av verdens aller kjekkeste menn - Gedeon Burkhard - i hovedrollen. Ren nytelse. (Hadde det ikke vært for at TV2 Zebra detter ut og henger seg opp innimellom...irriterende!!)
  2. Billig kokesjokolade på Rimi (sunt også! væffal litt!)
  3. Roxette på stereoen - og ute med nytt album! Marie er frisk (takk og pris!!!), Per er usedvanlig produktiv og verdens beste, svenske glampopband er utvilsomt tilbake for fullt...whey!
  4. Smilet til Christopher Eccleston når han ser Billie Piper dypt inn i øynene, gir henne en goood klem...og tilgir henne av hele sitt hjerte for at hun er i ferd med å sterilisere verden (ergo kverke samtlige verdensborgere - i allefall folk i området rundt London!) og forårsake en grusom spist-av-flygende-aliens-død over dem alle. Nice.
  5. (Se over) Fine, fine episode 1.08 av Doctor Who..."Father's day"...en virkelig perle...også så snufse-pufse, da...skal legges til at Billie Piper faktisk redder jorden til slutt; dvs - "faren hennes" skal vel strengt tatt ha æren, men hun må ofre mye i den anledning, så...stolt Doctor! Og - fantastiske serien!
  6. Å være en latsabb (som ikke redder verden - i dag..."I'm mot a gangster tonight!") Se på TV (MadTV er genialt! Og endelig har Torchwood - pun intended! - har entret de britiske hjem! Og min hybel! Herlig, mørk og mystisk...Wooo!)
  7. Youtube. JA, jeg bedriver også andre ting enn å se mennesker utfolde seg på en skjerm (uten å insinuere noe her...INGEN stygge bilder i hodet nå!), men fortsatt. Youtube er akkurat så genialt som alle skal ha det til. Fanvideoer er søtt og underholdende. Og ofte vellagde!
  8. Sol og snø (!!!) i Bergen. Hjelpes. DET er merkelig!

Og når jeg først er i godlaget: det er bare...skal vi se...22 dager til Oslo-premieren på den nye Bond-filmen; i skrivende stund...26 dager til premieren i Bergen. Glede seg? Øøøhm, tja... James Bond har vært min Drømmemann med stor D siden jeg var 10, og jeg har aldri før gruet meg til en Bondfilm-premiere. Jeg elsket Connery, Moore, Dalton og Brosnan. Til og med Lazenby var tålelig, spesielt fordi han hadde "Kojak"-Savalas som sin Nemesis. Men nå - nå ser jeg ikke lenger med glede frem til neste kapittel i Bond-sagaen. Nei, nå gruer jeg meg. Faktisk. For jeg klarer virkelig ikke legge min elsk på Daniel Craig. Og "Casino Royale" skaper mer frykt enn forventninger. Jeg håper jeg får mine skeptiske antagelser og bange anelser motbevist, men jeg er forberedt på det verste. Og kanskje med god grunn? Altså:

  • Bond-damene er anorektiske, skurken er en dansk blekfis, filmen er en re-make (ææææ!), filmen er en re-make av tidenes mest elendige Bond-parodi (...!!! ææææææææ!!!!), Felix Leiter har fått benene tilbake og skiftet hudfarge, Audioslave skal lage tittellåten - Audioslave, av alle mulige! Hvorfor ikke Goldfrapp, som tidligere antatt - og kunngjort?, M er fortsatt en kvinne (for alle som kjenner kronologien; da Bond begynte som agent var M en MANN! Judi Dench er fabelaktig men dette blir bare feil!), überkule Q er borte (!!!), Bond har blitt "mørkere og mykere", ifølge en viss Eva Green, og hun tror "jentene vil ha sansen for den NYE JAMES (...gah...), Bond forelsker seg (derfor) i hytt og pine - ikke minst i denne Vesper som spilles av nevnte Frøken Grønn (og hun er halvt svensk eller noe, pluss at den mannen - altså, James - har bare elsket ÉN dame; hun het Tracy og ble hans kone! Ikke kødd med Tøffe-Tracy!), bilen har automatgir fordi "han som spiller Mr. Bond" (...jeg trår varsomt) ikke kan kjøre vanlige biler fordi han nettopp har nettopp har fått lappen og bare for en begrenset type kjøretøy, og her kommer vi til hovedproblemet:
  • DANIEL CRAIG. Også kjent som Craig the Clown. Han er blond. Han ser ut som en gammel frosk. Han har lyseblå badebukser og stikkende øyne. Han er altfor voldelig og eier ikke klasse (etter traileren å dømme) og han er ikke...Bondsk. Overhodet. James Bond er ikke "mørk og tvetydig" på den måten, kjære Craig (og produsenter). Dere har misforstått. Og videre; de har kuttet ned på spesialeffektene. Var det derfor traileren var full av eksplosjoner og overdrevne stunts? Blæh! Hvis de har kuttet ned på green-screen og CGI; flott! MEN - hva har de erstattet det med? Ryktene sier at halve filmen er et casino-oppgjør. Sånt har man Martin Scorcese til, folkens! Dette er det Michael Campbell som skal regissere, og han har erfaring med Antonio Banderas og fekting og russiske tog og undertøymodeller!!! (Les: Zorro, Izabella Scorupco og GoldenEye.) Jeg vil ha drinker og hav og mystiske gangstere og sjarmerende kvinnemennesker med ben i nesen og designerdresser og eksentriske regjeringsmedlemmer og fantastiske locations og bakgårdsoppgjør og uhyrlig raske biler med gadgets og livsfarlige klappjakter som ender med halbrekkende showdowns! Jeg vil ha STIL!! Kort sagt; jeg vil ha tilbake Bond, James Bond, ikke dette...nye og nyskapende og "innovative" og liksom-spennende og FRUSTRERENDE!!! Alle varsellamper lyser! - Om ikke annet blir det hvertfall interessant nok, da...og hvis det blir for ille KAN det hende at jeg forlater salen midt i marerittet. Hvorfor må man alltid forandre på alt mulig? Hvorfor skal alle klassikere og tradisjoner fornyes og moderniseres og - ØDELEGGES???
  • Hvorfor kan ikke James Bond bare få lov til å være James Bond? Min helt? Min store, store helt og Drømmemann? Jeg savner ham...
  • KAN NOEN HENTE INN GERARD BUTLER/PIERCE BROSNAN/HUGH JACKMAN/CHRISTIAN BALE - OG QUENTIN TARANTINO! - SNART??? VÆR SÅ SNILL???

Det var alt jeg hadde å melde. På en torsdag. Nå er jeg litt sliten av min egen irritasjon - og indigansjon - og vil helst få premieren unnagjort sånn at jeg kan bøye meg i støvet og si at jeg tok feil. Og oddsene for dét er...? Jaja. Nuvel. Nåja. Jojo. Livet er ikke lett. Snøft.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

A little something about belief

"Must believe"
by Scaramouche, the po(t)et

[a(nother) poem about faith...
and not necessarily of the religious kind...]

People often tend to tell me what I should do
and what is never wise for me to attend to
Their eyes are always kind, but lying deep inside
their smiles so glittering, but fake, although they tried

And if there's no tomorrow
If yesterday was just a dream
And deja vû's are my illusions
There's nothing such as the supreme

And there's nothing left to believe

People often tend to give me advice and counsel
But don't go climbing up, I'm not like Rapunzel
Your intentions may be very kind, yet I'll be fine
I'll stick to what I know; mistakes I make that're mine

For if there's no tomorrow
and yesterdays fade into dreams
Deja vû's are vague illusoions
Nothing is just what it seems

Still, for me, there must be something left to believe

So you can say there's no tomorrow
and yesterdays come never more
Deja vû's are program failures
I've heard it many times before

For me, if there is anything, it's what I believe
And that's the only thing that I believe in

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Words Of Wisdom - an important post!

THE GREATEST THING YOU'LL EVER LEARN
IS JUST TO LOVE AND BE LOVED IN RETURN

My life motto and the most essential guideline/rule for any affair I get involved in...It's from a song called "Nature boy" and it is the recurring theme of the movie "Moulin Rouge!" in which Ewan McGregor is at his absolutely most adorable...and tear-jerking. Ok, enough said.
(Did I mention I love that movie??? - Yep. Probably.)

I am in the mood for (contemplating) love today...!

gentleman's departure...and some "Moulin Rouge!"

A little poetry about love that never even got to become love...

I think it's more frustrating, not to say devastating, to lose someone you never knew if you could have loved...left with the emptiness such an ending induces...it's frustrating because you're left with 10 000 questions about how it might have been...and perhaps it would have been better to be dumped for a reason, and that the love actually came to an end? Then, at least you would have memories of a love that existed, that was real and that affected two people to such an extent, they might grieve over the loss of it...

For as we all know; the world is nothing without love. Love is all around, all you need is love, love lifts us up where we belong; love is all, lalala, shine a light on me...

"gentleman's departure"
by scaramouche, the po(t)et
in a melancholy/philosophical mood

waking up to the sight of a gentleman's back before me
broad and with contours of muscles under golden skin
slowly turning, at the sensing of my movement behind him
giving a slight and wry good morning-smile

combing my hair, looking at a gentleman's back in the mirror
fixing his shirt and getting dressed, getting ready for the day
slowly picking up his shoes, steady movements, all so habitual
greeting me farewell with a wry look and a nod

then seeing a gentleman's back leaving, soon out of sight
just for a moment, can't believe it was over so quickly
almost as if it never happened, I'm still caught in a dream
later waking to see his bright eyes, blinking again

no, I'm arising from an empty bed, tomorrow
no, I haven't got any pictures to keep for memories
no, the only thing that lingers is the scent, for a while
and the knowledge, the bitter knowledge
knowing I've been hurt before
and knowing I'll be hurt again

Thursday, October 26, 2006

"Holdepunkter"

Smakebit på et lite stykke prosa!
Av Scaramouche, po(t)eten

Ikke nødvendigvis selvbiografisk, selv om fortellerstemmen er delvis i første person. Og alt kan tolkes på ti tusen forskjellige måter, husk det.

Verden er grå. Regnet har lagt seg som et blankt og gjennomskinnelig dekke på bakken. Man går gjennom parken og er nesten redd for å tråkke ned i vanndammene; man kvier seg for å bryte opp de glitrende speilbildene. En egen liten verden lever der, nedi vannet. Tenker man. Når støvelben tråkker gjennom vannskorpen og fargene eksploderer, er det som om noe av livet – et bruddstykke av verden – ødelegges samtidig. Man trår forsiktig; svinger utenom. Man balanserer på kanten av et tveegget sverd, nesten, og støvletthælene knaser i grusen akkurat slik pepperkvernen bruker å gjøre når man vrir på den. Et ben settes foran det andre, omhyggelig, man tror at de vil snu av seg selv, at de vil svikte og løpe avsted i en helt annen retning om man ikke er bestemt nok. Man tror at noe vil gå i stykker; vannsprut, glasskår, datamaskiner som kneler.

Jeg prøver å fokusere.

Brukne, svarte kvister bøyes, med vindens kraft, vekk fra sine oppskrapte, sprukne og like svarte trestammer. Slår mot husveggene, skraper opp den gule malingen. Gul flass daler nedover mot jorden i store flak. Det menneskeskapte ofrer seg i møte med den mektigere naturen, liknende en miniatyrisk forsmak på de store katastrofene tv-kanalene alltid ynder å vise filmatiske gjengivelser av. Overlegne naturkrefter; de skremmer meg. Og likevel er jeg så langt unna alle de store tornadoers sentrum som jeg kan komme. Jeg kunne ikke latt meg forsvinne ned i dragsuget om jeg hadde hatt aldri så lyst. Derfor overværer jeg elementenes kamp i stillhet, og gir opp å forhindre tankene fra å fare av sted. Utøyelig. Umulig å kjempe imot. Det var slik menneskesjelen skulle vært. Men det tar på; murveggene er oppskrapte skygger av seg selv, etter årtier med slikt vær, likesom det har tæret på landskapet rundt. Og det nytter ikke å rømme, som sagt; været innhenter meg – oss – og tvinger tilværelsen tilbake på sporet. Tilbake til den monotone rytmen av dagligliv og trummingen av regndråper mot ruten. En evig venting på regnbuer og tordenskrall, vekselvis. Jeg har kalde hender og kalde fingre og lange negler som lager en kneppelyd når jeg trommer dem mot kanten på spisebordet. Den mønstrede respatexen klistrer seg desperat til bordoverflaten foran meg – merker etter glass; gjenstridige, brune sirkler som har vært der såpass lenge at det sannsynligvis ikke går an å fjerne dem. Nå for tiden legger jeg ikke merke til detaljene, så uendelig velkjente er de blitt. Det hadde forekommet meg ubehagelig om de plutselig forsvant. En slags sikkerhetsline, en siste instans som gjør at jeg holder meg oppreist. Tror jeg. En fortvilende slitesterk line; lik klessnorer uten klær, repene som kirkeklokker er festet i, politisperringsbånd. Beskyttelse fra meg selv. Men allting brister til slutt.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

more poetry from scara's pen!

"President's call"
By Scaramouche, the po(t)et

Humans;
we are no better
than the flaws we try to conceal
And the wounds
There's just cause and effect,
all we're persistingly trying to heal

Our dreams,
Ambitions and games
The masks we once put on fall off, eventually
No footsteps heard
Marks dwindle away
From the fragile grounds where we wander

Monday, October 23, 2006

"Not exactly the way it was planned (literally)"

"Growth" [just a few months left]
By Scaramouche the po(t)et

I feel like dancing
But I can't
Punching my head against the wall

I feel like singing
But I mustn't
Tossing garbage all around me

Oooh, how sweet, reading books and drinking coffee
Guess we're having fun, for we are always laughing
Dinner's in the oven, come on out and let's get drunk
Honey, go get ready, feeling groovy, spinning wildly

I feel like stepping
But I shan't
Everytime I see you, how I stumble

I feel like crying
But I won't
Everytime I see you I restrain myself

Oooh, how great, reading comics and drinking whisky
Guess we're having fun, for we are always joking
The bun is in the oven, come on out, I can't get drunk
Honey, go get ready, hope you've pakced, I'm feeling dizzy

I feel like screaming
But I daren't
I tried to cover it up, but it didn't work

I feel like quitting
But I - ain't
I try to keep it going and I'll keep it going on