(I have decided that my letter to the men of Holland hostels is enough on Holland, so now we're moving on)
I would like to talk to you about my obsession.
The Tempest.
I love The Tempest. I adore The Tempest. I almost worship The Tempest.
Here's how much I love it.
I wrote a full length play adaptation of The Tempest.
I think directed my full length play adaptation of The Tempest at my high school.
My theatre teacher gave me a copy of The Tempest from 1923 for graduation, because she knew I am infatuated with The Tempest.
I have only seen two productions of The Tempest, and this upsets me extremely.
I was extremely upset to discover that I had arrived in England just too late to see the RSC do The Tempest.
When we went to the RSC I bought a The Tempest t-shirt. I adore that shirt.
When I went to the Globe giftshop I bought a The Tempest mug, that reads "Thought is free," and a The Tempest shot glass that reads "A howling monster, a drunken monster."
Lately, I have been brainstorming how to improve my adaptation of The Tempest and make it a screenplay.
Today I saw a trailer of the new film version of The Tempest and my mind nearly exploded.
I. Love. The. Tempest.
For your viewing pleasure...
The Tempest Trailer
Friday, October 29, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
To the Men of the Hostels in Holland (You Ruin My Life and I Hate You)
Dear Men in Holland Hostels,
Hi there men in Holland hostels! You probably don't remember me but I sure as hell remember you. Now, don't take that as a compliment, because it most certainly is not. See... there was that time you decided to sleep on you back, shirtless, like you were lounging on your Australian beaches. Not only did that make you look like an ass, it made you sound like an ass. Literally. You sounded like a barking, braying, snorting horrid ass. To make matters worse, another one of you asses decided to enter into a sleep-ridden snoring and snorting competition with the first one of you. It made for a simply horrid first night in Holland.
You ruin my life and I hate you.
Then there were those things when these large South American hords of you stormed the room. Do you know what you lot did? Do you know?!? I'll tell you what you did. The moment I reached the line between life and dream, that lovely cusp, you destroyed my world. Flipping on lights, chattering on and on in Portuguese and Spanish, thumping, bumping and canoodling around the room at 3am. The worst of you was you, mu bed neighbor. What did you do? You threw your coat on me and sat on my feet. Yes, you did, don't deny it. And I'm pretty sure I was clearly in that bed, and seeing as you and your awful friends turned on the lights, I knew your eyes could see just find.
You ruin my life and I hate you.
What else do you do? Well, let me tell you. You stick up the room with your dirt and your sprays. You throw yours things around every which way. You let in strangers, forget your keys and chatter no matter what time of day. And then, of course, we'll never forget, that you snore and snore and endlessly endlessly snore.
You ruin my life and I hate you.
Of course, that was just in the bedroom. When we enter the bar the creepers come out, the drunks, the stoners, the weirdos and all. You lot are endless and hard to define 'cause you're fat and you're skinny, you're young and you're old, you're Irish, Israeli, American and more. You're unshakeable, persistant and horribly awful. You make me uncomfortable.
You ruin my life and I hate you.
I know I sound harsh, brutal and mean, or maybe simply judgmental. I will gladly admit there were lovely men, and there were plenty of horrible women. Yet the point of my letter remains at the end. To the men of the hostels in Holland, there's just one thing I want you to know.
That you ruin my life and I hate you.
Love,
Amelia B Hanson
Hi there men in Holland hostels! You probably don't remember me but I sure as hell remember you. Now, don't take that as a compliment, because it most certainly is not. See... there was that time you decided to sleep on you back, shirtless, like you were lounging on your Australian beaches. Not only did that make you look like an ass, it made you sound like an ass. Literally. You sounded like a barking, braying, snorting horrid ass. To make matters worse, another one of you asses decided to enter into a sleep-ridden snoring and snorting competition with the first one of you. It made for a simply horrid first night in Holland.
You ruin my life and I hate you.
Then there were those things when these large South American hords of you stormed the room. Do you know what you lot did? Do you know?!? I'll tell you what you did. The moment I reached the line between life and dream, that lovely cusp, you destroyed my world. Flipping on lights, chattering on and on in Portuguese and Spanish, thumping, bumping and canoodling around the room at 3am. The worst of you was you, mu bed neighbor. What did you do? You threw your coat on me and sat on my feet. Yes, you did, don't deny it. And I'm pretty sure I was clearly in that bed, and seeing as you and your awful friends turned on the lights, I knew your eyes could see just find.
You ruin my life and I hate you.
What else do you do? Well, let me tell you. You stick up the room with your dirt and your sprays. You throw yours things around every which way. You let in strangers, forget your keys and chatter no matter what time of day. And then, of course, we'll never forget, that you snore and snore and endlessly endlessly snore.
You ruin my life and I hate you.
Of course, that was just in the bedroom. When we enter the bar the creepers come out, the drunks, the stoners, the weirdos and all. You lot are endless and hard to define 'cause you're fat and you're skinny, you're young and you're old, you're Irish, Israeli, American and more. You're unshakeable, persistant and horribly awful. You make me uncomfortable.
You ruin my life and I hate you.
I know I sound harsh, brutal and mean, or maybe simply judgmental. I will gladly admit there were lovely men, and there were plenty of horrible women. Yet the point of my letter remains at the end. To the men of the hostels in Holland, there's just one thing I want you to know.
That you ruin my life and I hate you.
Love,
Amelia B Hanson
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Holland Blogs Delayed Until Further Notice
I have much to write:
A Letter to Males in Holland Hostels
Stupid Americans and Creepy Israelis
Why Miniature Things are Lovely
English - At Least It's Not Dutch
And other possible blog topics created during different states of mind whilst in Holland.
I have attempted to start these blog posts, but it appears that my head refuses to write a light hearted lovely blog post as this blog is accustom to. (or... I'm in the most rotten mood of the last two months and if I were to write those posts they would be mean, cold and very bitter.)
Therefore it may take a few days for Mia to... get her groove back.
Please don't cry Friends (oh, there's a double meaning there!) when those posts do appear, they will be worth the wait.
A Letter to Males in Holland Hostels
Stupid Americans and Creepy Israelis
Why Miniature Things are Lovely
English - At Least It's Not Dutch
And other possible blog topics created during different states of mind whilst in Holland.
I have attempted to start these blog posts, but it appears that my head refuses to write a light hearted lovely blog post as this blog is accustom to. (or... I'm in the most rotten mood of the last two months and if I were to write those posts they would be mean, cold and very bitter.)
Therefore it may take a few days for Mia to... get her groove back.
Please don't cry Friends (oh, there's a double meaning there!) when those posts do appear, they will be worth the wait.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Caution: Wet Paint
My time in Holland so far has proven to me that it was a very smart idea to make my I'll Never Tell blog post.
I have also realized, thanks mostly to my 1.5 day stint so far in Amsterdam, that there are things that should have been added to that list. Oh well, I'll just know what I'm not telling you, and you won't.
Now, instead of talking to you all about those things that I will not talk to you about, I am going to talk to you about wet paint. Sadly, I don't have too much to say about wet paint, but I'll do what I can to keep you all happy.
Wet paint is evil.
When we first arrived at the London Center, we couldn't use the toilets.
Why?
Wet paint.
When we came back to the hostel today, trying to escape from the hail on the Amsterdam streets, going up 90 some extremely steep stairs, we needed the banister. But when we looked at our hands we realized we couldn't use it.
Why?
Wet paint.
Conclusion?
Wet paint is evil
I have also realized, thanks mostly to my 1.5 day stint so far in Amsterdam, that there are things that should have been added to that list. Oh well, I'll just know what I'm not telling you, and you won't.
Now, instead of talking to you all about those things that I will not talk to you about, I am going to talk to you about wet paint. Sadly, I don't have too much to say about wet paint, but I'll do what I can to keep you all happy.
Wet paint is evil.
When we first arrived at the London Center, we couldn't use the toilets.
Why?
Wet paint.
When we came back to the hostel today, trying to escape from the hail on the Amsterdam streets, going up 90 some extremely steep stairs, we needed the banister. But when we looked at our hands we realized we couldn't use it.
Why?
Wet paint.
Conclusion?
Wet paint is evil
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Mia's Fall Break Travel Guide
All my papers have been finished and printed, all my classes attended and all my things packed.
It is time for Fall Break in the Netherlands!! (that is, once Morgan gets out of class...)
I could think of a topic to write about and leave you with as I head off on my travels (which will surely result in some wonderful blog posts) but instead I have chosen to share with you a lovely, and relavent, article that I wrote for the just published Fall Break edition of the Skint, the magazine put out almost monthly by the ICLC.
So... you know... enjoy!!! (and be careful out there)
Mia’s Fall Break Travel Guide
Disclaimer: If the country of your origin has been insulted, sorry? And if you feel I was too mean to Norway, it’s okay; I’m so Norwegian one of my middle names is Fjerkenstad.
Let’s talk travel folks.
You’re all about to venture into the big wide world that is Europe for a week, and whether you realize it or not, that’s a very scary thing. Sure, you may have gone to Mexico and Canada for spring break, spent a year studying a broad in France during high school, maybe you just spent a week in Dublin, and gosh you are spending 4 months living in London, land of pick-pockets and that awful awful thief Charles Dickens, but trust me, it’s not the same.
You’re about to go to uncharted, dark and scary lands like Italy, where there’s never enough sauce on your pizza. Or Germany, where women named Olga will kill you with their giant breasts. Maybe you’re going to Iceland, and you’re thinking, “I’ll be fine, that unpronounceable volcano already exploded, and Bjork lives in American most of the time.” But what you don’t know is that if you can’t pronounce their language, they’ll make those hot springs just a little too hot. And Holland is the land of tulips, clogs and Amsterdam right? Maybe, but it’s also the land of thieves who steal not only your bike, but also your soul, and throw both into the canal. What about Spain, where you never really know if you’re eating bull testicles, baby squid, or maybe just chorizo? And don’t even get me started about Scandinavia… Swedes will make you cry, Danes will throw skulls at you, Finns never stop playing heavy metal, and, oh man, Norwegians… those guys are just the worst. Just imagine being forced to eat lutefisk while watching the complete works of Ibsen, in the original language, in a town where the sun never rises. And that’ll be the good half of your week.
Now that you know the truth and have changed all your travel arrangements, what are your options back in the UK? There aren’t many. Northern Ireland just has potatoes, Wales just has sheep, and Scots are so scary even Nessie left. What about visiting various places in England Mia, you’re asking. Well, I suppose that’s an option, but if you go too far North you won’t understand them, and they won’t understand you. Too far South and you’ll just fall off the Cliffs of Dover. West, and really, you’ll just end up in Wales, and we’ve covered that. And East just is not an option, so don’t even ask.
Right about now you’re probably thinking to yourselves, “Gosh, I should have never come to this terrible side of the ocean, why can’t I just go back to pretty, peaceful Ithaca?” But seeing as you can’t go back there just yet, I’ll let you in on a little secret that may make you feel better. See, Ithaca isn’t safe either, because in Ithaca there’s a large purple radioactive duck-billed platypus named Graper who lives in lake Cayuga and the moment you feel safe and cozy back in Ithaca, Graper will strike.
After all this, what’s my advice? Go to Switzerland, they have chocolate, are always neutral, and really the Swiss never do anything mean, if they even feel a mean urge, they move to Germany and change their names to Olga. So come on guys, let’s pack up our bags, hop on a plane, go to Switzerland and eat chocolate till we burst. Best ICLC fall break ever!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Like a light bulb, in a dark room... that will never ever get turned on.
Today marks the last week of classes before fall break here at the Ithaca College London Center which means that on Thursday Morgan and I will be off to Amsterdam.
Today also marks only 10 days left until my 21st, and golden, birthday.
Today also marks that I have even fewer days left now to finish (and in some cases start) my final 3 midterm papers (as one was just handed over less than 20 minutes ago to Mr. Bevan Jones himself. And might I note that despite the fact that over half his class today was spent watching various videos, I didn't even feel a hint of sleepiness!!).
So, knowing that I have less than 3 days to write 6000 words on Shakespeare, Irish women and British television there really is only one thing that I can write about.
And that, my friends, is useless light switches.
Ever since I was a small child I was haunted and tormented by useless light switches. My most vivid memory (probably because the light switch is still lurking around my house) is of the horrifying light switch in my brother's tiny little blue bedroom.
Why, you find yourself asking, is this light switch so horrifying?
I will tell you why. It is because this light switch does... nothing!
That's right folks, you read correct, it is a light switch with absolutely no point whatsoever!!!
Therefore, whenever I enter that room, I see that white light switch watching me from the side of the door, just teasing me, daring me to switch it, saying "Hey, you don't know, maybe today will be different."
But you know what? IT IS NEVER DIFFERENT
Moving on...
There is a light switch by Morgan's bed. This switch is next to the 2nd bathroom door that is not in use due to Morgan's bed being firmly pressed against it. When we discovered this light switch we first thought maybe it affected our light.
It did not.
Then we realized that was a stupid idea because, of course, it was made to turn on the bathroom light as the other switch was outside the bathroom in the living room. It made perfect sense.
But guess what??
IT DIDN'T DO A THING! NOTHING AT ALL!
Pointless!
And then... we have out kitchen.
Oh god, that fucking kitchen, that awful, horrible kitchen.
There are more pointless switches in that kitchen than I can even dare to count.
There are they to not turn on outlets. To not turn on under-counter lights. And to not turn on over stove lights.
WHY?!?!?! Why do you torment kitchen switches??
Just wait though, it gets worse.
You see, there are two switches on the wall when you enter the kitchen.
One turns on the light.
The other... nothing.
This was annoying, but we got used to it.
Then... an electrician came in to to install new smoke alarms and such and in that process he decided, for god knows what reason, to switch the kitchen light switches.
Now, the one that didn't do a thing, turns on the light.
And the one that turned on the light... DOES NOTHING!
I DON'T UNDERSTAD!!
Our conclusion?
Never, ever... EVER place useless light switches or change them. JUST DON'T DO IT?
Okay?
Okay. Good. We're solid.
Today also marks only 10 days left until my 21st, and golden, birthday.
Today also marks that I have even fewer days left now to finish (and in some cases start) my final 3 midterm papers (as one was just handed over less than 20 minutes ago to Mr. Bevan Jones himself. And might I note that despite the fact that over half his class today was spent watching various videos, I didn't even feel a hint of sleepiness!!).
So, knowing that I have less than 3 days to write 6000 words on Shakespeare, Irish women and British television there really is only one thing that I can write about.
And that, my friends, is useless light switches.
Ever since I was a small child I was haunted and tormented by useless light switches. My most vivid memory (probably because the light switch is still lurking around my house) is of the horrifying light switch in my brother's tiny little blue bedroom.
Why, you find yourself asking, is this light switch so horrifying?
I will tell you why. It is because this light switch does... nothing!
That's right folks, you read correct, it is a light switch with absolutely no point whatsoever!!!
Therefore, whenever I enter that room, I see that white light switch watching me from the side of the door, just teasing me, daring me to switch it, saying "Hey, you don't know, maybe today will be different."
But you know what? IT IS NEVER DIFFERENT
Moving on...
There is a light switch by Morgan's bed. This switch is next to the 2nd bathroom door that is not in use due to Morgan's bed being firmly pressed against it. When we discovered this light switch we first thought maybe it affected our light.
It did not.
Then we realized that was a stupid idea because, of course, it was made to turn on the bathroom light as the other switch was outside the bathroom in the living room. It made perfect sense.
But guess what??
IT DIDN'T DO A THING! NOTHING AT ALL!
Pointless!
And then... we have out kitchen.
Oh god, that fucking kitchen, that awful, horrible kitchen.
There are more pointless switches in that kitchen than I can even dare to count.
There are they to not turn on outlets. To not turn on under-counter lights. And to not turn on over stove lights.
WHY?!?!?! Why do you torment kitchen switches??
Just wait though, it gets worse.
You see, there are two switches on the wall when you enter the kitchen.
One turns on the light.
The other... nothing.
This was annoying, but we got used to it.
Then... an electrician came in to to install new smoke alarms and such and in that process he decided, for god knows what reason, to switch the kitchen light switches.
Now, the one that didn't do a thing, turns on the light.
And the one that turned on the light... DOES NOTHING!
I DON'T UNDERSTAD!!
Our conclusion?
Never, ever... EVER place useless light switches or change them. JUST DON'T DO IT?
Okay?
Okay. Good. We're solid.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
I'll Never Tell
Here is a list of things that I will never discuss (further than this list) on this blog for fear of a bamboo thrashing (or... you know, just cause I don't want to upset people...)
- Shameful drunken mistakes made by my flatmates
- What I think the London 2012 logo looks like
- Arguments between flatmates that I think are really hilarious
- The dark, twisted fetishes of those close to me
- Why those Jaffa Cakes were so cheap
- My fuming hatred for various people
- The real reason I'm laughing at the TV
- Interesting facts about my sex life
- Where the gold is buried
- The secret about where I put your toothbrush
- Who my secret drunken crush is
- The reason I like to sit in the dark
- Who I really dreamt about last night
- What Quakers really do during the silence
- And, of course, what I'm thinking about the person sitting next to me. (Hello sailor!!)
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
A Very Sam Neill Blog Post
Sam Neill and I are friends. Sure, we've never met, never even saw each other from a distance. We don't know much about each other. And... well, Sam Neill doesn't even know I exist, but we're friends. Let me tell you why.
First, of course, is that he was Damien in The Final Conflict. And any man who can rock the look of the Devil's son is good in my book (and should be good in yours as well).
Also, he was like this close to being James Bond in The Living Daylights and GoldenEye, so, if Devil's Son wasn't good enough, almost 007 should be.
He was also almost Doc Ock, not that I really bothered to see that movie, at least, not after the first half hour cause I really just got bored. I mean don't get me wrong, I like Spiderman, he's usually a cool dude, but I just never was able to watch Spiderman 2, never in the mood I suppose?? And I didn't even consider Spiderman 3, and boy howdy am I ever glad I avoided that beast of a movie, let me tell you.
But I'm getting off topic, let's get back to why Sam Neill is lovely.
If you aren't impressed already (though you really really should be, cause, I mean, come on it's fucking Sam Neill) then these next to facts about Sam probably won't impress you (we'll get the worst one out of the way first).
Mr. Neill is being silly, honoring the fact that he's half an Aussie, and he was just in Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole... as an owl of course (with Jason Stackhouse!!).
Shame Sam Neill, shame.
This next one... well, I enjoy it, it pleases me (even though WE NEVER FOUND OUT WHO THE MAGIC MAN WAS BEFORE IT GOT CANCELLED!!!). Sam Neill was on the wonderfully bad but great, short-lived, totally non-Minnesotan but Minnesotan show Happy Town. He was the movie obsessed, Magic Man obsessed strange but wonderful British man in town.
This is what brought Sam back into my vision.
And last we have Sam Neill's pride and glory, the movie we all know and love him for...
Jurassic Park!
No more need's to be said there.
So I will leave you with a quote Sam said when he was to be on The Simpsons (another reason you should love him)
"I'm playing a cat burglar. I've made it. This is the high point of my career. I'm really chuffed"
First, of course, is that he was Damien in The Final Conflict. And any man who can rock the look of the Devil's son is good in my book (and should be good in yours as well).
Also, he was like this close to being James Bond in The Living Daylights and GoldenEye, so, if Devil's Son wasn't good enough, almost 007 should be.
He was also almost Doc Ock, not that I really bothered to see that movie, at least, not after the first half hour cause I really just got bored. I mean don't get me wrong, I like Spiderman, he's usually a cool dude, but I just never was able to watch Spiderman 2, never in the mood I suppose?? And I didn't even consider Spiderman 3, and boy howdy am I ever glad I avoided that beast of a movie, let me tell you.
But I'm getting off topic, let's get back to why Sam Neill is lovely.
If you aren't impressed already (though you really really should be, cause, I mean, come on it's fucking Sam Neill) then these next to facts about Sam probably won't impress you (we'll get the worst one out of the way first).
Mr. Neill is being silly, honoring the fact that he's half an Aussie, and he was just in Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole... as an owl of course (with Jason Stackhouse!!).
Shame Sam Neill, shame.
This next one... well, I enjoy it, it pleases me (even though WE NEVER FOUND OUT WHO THE MAGIC MAN WAS BEFORE IT GOT CANCELLED!!!). Sam Neill was on the wonderfully bad but great, short-lived, totally non-Minnesotan but Minnesotan show Happy Town. He was the movie obsessed, Magic Man obsessed strange but wonderful British man in town.
This is what brought Sam back into my vision.
And last we have Sam Neill's pride and glory, the movie we all know and love him for...
No more need's to be said there.
So I will leave you with a quote Sam said when he was to be on The Simpsons (another reason you should love him)
"I'm playing a cat burglar. I've made it. This is the high point of my career. I'm really chuffed"
Monday, October 4, 2010
The Omen(s) (Or, how I learned to find the Devil's son)
This last weekend was probably my most exciting weekend yet.
(totally beats my return to Oxford after 6 years)
Instead of going out in the evenings to experience the vivid night life the London may or may not have to offer, Morgan and I stayed in... and watched The Omen trilogy on Film4.
That's right folks, every night at 11pm we plopped down on the couch (though often we were already there) and watched the epic trilogy consisting of: The Omen on Friday, Damien: Omen II on Saturday, and The Final Conflict (Omen III) on Sunday.
I took notes... so let's compare!!!!!!
Let's start with Damien himself.
The Omen which has the all time classic creepy tiny evil child of our nightmares
This Damien is a classic, and of course a career killer for this actor, but what do we care right?? All we need that tiny devil child for is to be a tiny devil child. Point for the Omen.
Next we have Damien: The Omen II, the movie where Damien is getting a bit older, realizing he's not normal, and being a stupid little shit.
This Damien sucks. He's not scary. He's not all that evil. He's got a British accent, but it sucks. He doesn't even really kill half the people that die, which would be fine, since first Damien really kill no one, but this Damien does kill some of the people so... what up with that? No points.
Lastly we have The Final Conflict, where Damien is in his 30s, sly, (sexy), evil, and lovely. Of course his lovelyness is all due to the fact that he's played by one of my favorite random actors, Mr. Sam Neill.
I personally was quite pleased with this Damien, you knew he was evil from the start, but you still didn't totally hate him. He knows not to ooze evil, to not always look mean. Pretty much, he's what you want your grown up Sam Neill Damien to be. Point for The Final Conflict.
Next we have the hell beasts. As most good movie goers know, The Omen has the wonderful scary hell hounds. But much to our surprise, Damien: Omen II decided to stray from hell hounds and choose... hell birds?? (aka ravens). Thankfully, The Final Conflict brought the hell hounds back. So points for I and III.
Parts I and III also gets points for having nice, clear plots. Stupid part II had the most confusing, pointless, weird and stupid plot ever. In fact, the plot was so awful, I am going to take a point away from part II (despite it having no points)
Now, how about the deaths?
The Omen has some scary, dramatic, classic deaths. Nothing beats them.
Damien: Omen II has the stupidest deaths ever. First off, the first deaths are two people getting trapped in some ruins. And the second death is a heart attack caused by a raven... and all the death you know will happen because pretty much as soon as someone knows for sure that Damien is the Devil's son they die. Lame.
The Final Conflict has some pretty good deaths. The first death is an epic suspenseful hell hound caused public suicide (hey... what's that remind us of?). And really all the deaths are pretty good, well done, and not too easily figured out.
Points for this: The Final Conflict - 1 Damien: Omen II - 0 and just because the deaths in The Omen are so classic, it gets 6 points (one for each death)
Speaking of the number of deaths in The Omen, let's get to our last section for points, DEATH COUNTS!
The Omen - 6
This is a good number for a horror movie, they are spaced out enough that you don't know when they'll come next, but you also are never waiting too long for the next one.
Damien: The Omen II - 11
As to be expected, the sequel has more deaths than the original. And all of them pretty much suck. I mean, sure, the elevator death is not exactly what you think it'll be, and the train death is awful is a good way, but they still suck. If you're horror movie has a raven causing a heart attack in someone by looking at them, you know the deaths are stupid. Also, the first three deaths were less than 20 minutes into the movie, and 6 people had died 40 minutes in...
The Final Confilct - 29
Now, this needs to be defended. First off, it's not as bad as it seems because still, only 2 people had died 40 minutes in. It took over an hour for the count to reach five, and three of those died in one scene. The main two reasons the death count is so high is because 1. There were 7 priests after Damien, and of course they all had to die and 2. 17 babies died in the span of less than 2 minutes... (they were tasteful and never showed the babies dying). And of course (spoiler) one of those deaths is Damien. And in total 18 babies die, the final baby being the 2nd coming of baby Jesus, named Harvy Jr., who was ironed to death.
So you know... think "Hey, Jesus, come 'ere, I got some iron'ng to do!"
Points: The Omen - 1 for having the lowest and most tasteful death count. Damien: Omen II - 0 for having too many stupid deaths. The Final Conflict - 2 for having the highest death count but also having good deaths and good reasons for the high death count. But then we do have to take away a point for all the dead babies.
Final Scores:
Loser - Damien: The Omen II with -1 points
Runner-up - The Final Conflict with 5 points
Winner - The Omen with 10 points!!
Now, since I took notes for this blog post, I do have a few extra tidbits to share with you (most coming from The Final Conflict, as that's what was on last night)
(buttsex)
First, an honerable mention to Damien: The Omen II for being the one in the trilogy to mention Bugenhagen the most (though of course all three mention him)
I also feel it's important to mention that in part III Damien totally has a Hamlet-esque monologue to a backward Jesus about how he will beat Jesus.
You also have to know that Jesus totally shows up in the end, once EVERYONE IS DEAD.
Keep in mind that Damien was born of a jackal so, as Morgan said, "His mother was a real bitch."
Lastly people, remember, the Devil's son is marked by the Sign of the Beast, aka a 666 birth mark on the scalp.
"That's why you have to pull guys hair during sex... Oh, Devil's son, penis out." (from an anonymous source)
(totally beats my return to Oxford after 6 years)
Instead of going out in the evenings to experience the vivid night life the London may or may not have to offer, Morgan and I stayed in... and watched The Omen trilogy on Film4.
That's right folks, every night at 11pm we plopped down on the couch (though often we were already there) and watched the epic trilogy consisting of: The Omen on Friday, Damien: Omen II on Saturday, and The Final Conflict (Omen III) on Sunday.
I took notes... so let's compare!!!!!!
Let's start with Damien himself.
The Omen which has the all time classic creepy tiny evil child of our nightmares
Next we have Damien: The Omen II, the movie where Damien is getting a bit older, realizing he's not normal, and being a stupid little shit.
Lastly we have The Final Conflict, where Damien is in his 30s, sly, (sexy), evil, and lovely. Of course his lovelyness is all due to the fact that he's played by one of my favorite random actors, Mr. Sam Neill.
Next we have the hell beasts. As most good movie goers know, The Omen has the wonderful scary hell hounds. But much to our surprise, Damien: Omen II decided to stray from hell hounds and choose... hell birds?? (aka ravens). Thankfully, The Final Conflict brought the hell hounds back. So points for I and III.
Parts I and III also gets points for having nice, clear plots. Stupid part II had the most confusing, pointless, weird and stupid plot ever. In fact, the plot was so awful, I am going to take a point away from part II (despite it having no points)
Now, how about the deaths?
The Omen has some scary, dramatic, classic deaths. Nothing beats them.
Damien: Omen II has the stupidest deaths ever. First off, the first deaths are two people getting trapped in some ruins. And the second death is a heart attack caused by a raven... and all the death you know will happen because pretty much as soon as someone knows for sure that Damien is the Devil's son they die. Lame.
The Final Conflict has some pretty good deaths. The first death is an epic suspenseful hell hound caused public suicide (hey... what's that remind us of?). And really all the deaths are pretty good, well done, and not too easily figured out.
Points for this: The Final Conflict - 1 Damien: Omen II - 0 and just because the deaths in The Omen are so classic, it gets 6 points (one for each death)
Speaking of the number of deaths in The Omen, let's get to our last section for points, DEATH COUNTS!
The Omen - 6
This is a good number for a horror movie, they are spaced out enough that you don't know when they'll come next, but you also are never waiting too long for the next one.
Damien: The Omen II - 11
As to be expected, the sequel has more deaths than the original. And all of them pretty much suck. I mean, sure, the elevator death is not exactly what you think it'll be, and the train death is awful is a good way, but they still suck. If you're horror movie has a raven causing a heart attack in someone by looking at them, you know the deaths are stupid. Also, the first three deaths were less than 20 minutes into the movie, and 6 people had died 40 minutes in...
The Final Confilct - 29
Now, this needs to be defended. First off, it's not as bad as it seems because still, only 2 people had died 40 minutes in. It took over an hour for the count to reach five, and three of those died in one scene. The main two reasons the death count is so high is because 1. There were 7 priests after Damien, and of course they all had to die and 2. 17 babies died in the span of less than 2 minutes... (they were tasteful and never showed the babies dying). And of course (spoiler) one of those deaths is Damien. And in total 18 babies die, the final baby being the 2nd coming of baby Jesus, named Harvy Jr., who was ironed to death.
So you know... think "Hey, Jesus, come 'ere, I got some iron'ng to do!"
Points: The Omen - 1 for having the lowest and most tasteful death count. Damien: Omen II - 0 for having too many stupid deaths. The Final Conflict - 2 for having the highest death count but also having good deaths and good reasons for the high death count. But then we do have to take away a point for all the dead babies.
Loser - Damien: The Omen II with -1 points
Runner-up - The Final Conflict with 5 points
Winner - The Omen with 10 points!!
Now, since I took notes for this blog post, I do have a few extra tidbits to share with you (most coming from The Final Conflict, as that's what was on last night)
(buttsex)
First, an honerable mention to Damien: The Omen II for being the one in the trilogy to mention Bugenhagen the most (though of course all three mention him)
I also feel it's important to mention that in part III Damien totally has a Hamlet-esque monologue to a backward Jesus about how he will beat Jesus.
You also have to know that Jesus totally shows up in the end, once EVERYONE IS DEAD.
Keep in mind that Damien was born of a jackal so, as Morgan said, "His mother was a real bitch."
Lastly people, remember, the Devil's son is marked by the Sign of the Beast, aka a 666 birth mark on the scalp.
"That's why you have to pull guys hair during sex... Oh, Devil's son, penis out." (from an anonymous source)
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Tick Tock on the Clock (No, this has nothing to do with Ke$ha)
Today I am going to write a blog post through most of my 6 hours of work, we'll see where that takes us, it'll be a hoot!!
Today's topic is...
(not the fact that I'm being stupid and eating my lunch 26 minutes into a 6 hour shift)
But what it really i... is clocks.
(Hey look, according the the copyright initials, I drew that!)
11:27am
There's an Ithaca College London Center clock that sits on my desk. It was clearly made in the 90's, it's style is a dead give-away; chunky but streamline, trying to look a little modern, all black with gold paint around the clock. I've played with it some before at work, spinning it around (because the clock sits on its chunky stand held by two little nubs), also seeing if you can easily lift it off the stand (you can't). But it wasn't until today that I noticed the most important thing about this clock...
It doesn't work. For this ICLC clock, it will forever 1 second to 11:23 (pm or am, no one knows).
And I suppose it may not be that time forever, cause you never know, I might feel devious and change the time, or add a battery!
ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN!!!
12:01pm
I really don't like how loud the clock on the wall of this office is.
12:27pm (according to the computers)
I just discovered that most of these clocks don't agree. The phone says it's 12:50, the wall clock says it's 12:49 and (obviously) both computers, desktop and laptop, say 12:47.
Note: I had to subtract a minute from all those times because they changed as I typed...
1:41pm (also know as 13:14)
Let's talk army time.
I've been having issues with it. Which is really annoying because I didn't have that big of a problem with it when I was in England 7 years ago, but now that I'm 20 it seems my mind refuses to figure it out. I mean, sometimes I'm pretty darn good at it, because I know that you just need to subtract 12 (but really you just need to subtract 2) but I swear, sometimes when I look at a digital clock and it's in army time, as most in this country are unless fiddled with by an American, my mind shuts down and just will not figure it out. It's quite the problem and I very strongly dislike it (the issue of army time, not so much army time).
2:13pm
Lately I've noticed a faint ticking in our bedroom. I thought it was maybe just dripping out in the courtyard, because that happens a lot, and also I knew there were no clocks in our room so usually I could ignore it and it would seem to go away. But last night when I heard it I remembered that our water heater/furnace thingy that's in our room has a clock on it and realized, to my complete and utter horror that the ticking was a clock. After realizing this the ticking got louder and more pronounced. I was very upset. I hate clocks and the way they tick.
I like the way they look though. I wish there were more pretty clocks that just didn't tick. Now that would be a perfect world.
2:20pm
I saw the oldest clock in the world last weekend.
It didn't seem that old.
2:50pm
The loud, constant ticking of this clock is a reminder of the endlessness that is this work shift.
The only person who's come in here today so far was Bill.
Clocks are evil.
2:55pm
This is completely un-clock related, but I just need to say that House makes everything better.
3:15pm
I have decided that I have no more left to say about clocks. So... I am going to (wait for it) CLOCK out!!
I'm so funny.
Today's topic is...
(not the fact that I'm being stupid and eating my lunch 26 minutes into a 6 hour shift)
But what it really i... is clocks.
11:27am
There's an Ithaca College London Center clock that sits on my desk. It was clearly made in the 90's, it's style is a dead give-away; chunky but streamline, trying to look a little modern, all black with gold paint around the clock. I've played with it some before at work, spinning it around (because the clock sits on its chunky stand held by two little nubs), also seeing if you can easily lift it off the stand (you can't). But it wasn't until today that I noticed the most important thing about this clock...
It doesn't work. For this ICLC clock, it will forever 1 second to 11:23 (pm or am, no one knows).
And I suppose it may not be that time forever, cause you never know, I might feel devious and change the time, or add a battery!
ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN!!!
12:01pm
I really don't like how loud the clock on the wall of this office is.
12:27pm (according to the computers)
I just discovered that most of these clocks don't agree. The phone says it's 12:50, the wall clock says it's 12:49 and (obviously) both computers, desktop and laptop, say 12:47.
Note: I had to subtract a minute from all those times because they changed as I typed...
1:41pm (also know as 13:14)
Let's talk army time.
I've been having issues with it. Which is really annoying because I didn't have that big of a problem with it when I was in England 7 years ago, but now that I'm 20 it seems my mind refuses to figure it out. I mean, sometimes I'm pretty darn good at it, because I know that you just need to subtract 12 (but really you just need to subtract 2) but I swear, sometimes when I look at a digital clock and it's in army time, as most in this country are unless fiddled with by an American, my mind shuts down and just will not figure it out. It's quite the problem and I very strongly dislike it (the issue of army time, not so much army time).
2:13pm
Lately I've noticed a faint ticking in our bedroom. I thought it was maybe just dripping out in the courtyard, because that happens a lot, and also I knew there were no clocks in our room so usually I could ignore it and it would seem to go away. But last night when I heard it I remembered that our water heater/furnace thingy that's in our room has a clock on it and realized, to my complete and utter horror that the ticking was a clock. After realizing this the ticking got louder and more pronounced. I was very upset. I hate clocks and the way they tick.
I like the way they look though. I wish there were more pretty clocks that just didn't tick. Now that would be a perfect world.
2:20pm
I saw the oldest clock in the world last weekend.
It didn't seem that old.
2:50pm
The loud, constant ticking of this clock is a reminder of the endlessness that is this work shift.
The only person who's come in here today so far was Bill.
Clocks are evil.
2:55pm
This is completely un-clock related, but I just need to say that House makes everything better.
3:15pm
I have decided that I have no more left to say about clocks. So... I am going to (wait for it) CLOCK out!!
I'm so funny.
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