Chef Jacques La Merde lampoons the tweezer food movement by posting photos of junk food artfully plated.
It's fun to read the captions to see the mystery ingredients. Doritos soil? Mmmm, can I have another?
To really drive the dagger home, they should have launched this as a pop-up with expensive tickets available only via lottery.
There are no words.
Matthew Mcconaughey reacts to the Star Wars teaser. No copyright infringement intended. Twitter: oskararnarson
Whoever created this clip may have singlehandedly launched the next angry Hitler video meme. 1 I look forward to what is sure to be a burgeoning industry of McConaughey sobbing in reaction to Jonny Ive material science promo videos, the next trailer to Pitch Perfect 2, and so on. Sobbing McConaughey is the new Kevin Durant “You're the real MVP.”
I don't own Interstellar on Blu-ray, can someone now cut the same clip of McConaughey crying, but this time swap in The Phantom Menace? What better way to demonstrate The Kuleshov Effect?
I absolutely adored all the angry Hitler videos, but one advantage of the McConaughey clip as a video reaction meme is its short duration. You can claim fair use, I suspect. The angry Hitler videos were fantastic, but the clip is so long that all those videos are pulled off of YouTube by the lawyers. For my next startup, I may just buy the rights to that angry Hitler clip from the movie Downfall and launch a website and app for easily cutting in your own subtitles. If you want to write me a $10 million check for that you know where to find me. ↩
By toilet seat problem I refer to the problem of a couple living together, one man and one woman, sharing one toilet. To be more mathematically specific:
For Marsha the seat position transfer cost is 0 since all operations are performed with the seat in the down position. For John the cost is greater than 0 since seat position transfers must be performed.
Let p be the probability that John will perform a #1 operation vs a #2 operation. Assume that John optimizes his seat position transfer cost (see remark 3 below.) Then it is easy to determine that John’s average cost of seat position transfer per toilet opeation is
B = 2p(1-p)C
where B is the bachelor cost of toilet seat position transfers per toilet operation.
Now let us consider the scenario where John and Marsha cohabit and both use the same toilet. In our analysis we shall assume that John and Marsha perform toilet operations with the same frequency (see remark 4 below) and that the order in which they perform them is random. They discover to their mutual displeasure that their cohabitation adversely alters the toilet seat position transfer cost function for each of them. What is more there is an inherent conflict of interest.
This is one of the more rigorous game theory considerations of the toilet seat problem I've read. The solution proposed at the end seems sensible enough.
Let's not allow our current technological constraints and limited imagination confine our solution set, however. I propose a different, even more ideal solution.
We develop a toilet seat that is in communication with the Apple Watch worn by both the man and the woman. When the woman walks into the bathroom, her Apple Watch authenticates itself to the toilet seat which then automatically lowers itself. Meanwhile, when the man walks in, the toilet seat remains in whatever position it's in, per the widely accepted bachelor toilet seat strategy. One could try to further optimize for the man by learning, Nest-style, the general pattern of #1 and #2 operations and caching the last 24 to 48 hours worth of such operations, but the added complexity may only capture a slight marginal decrease in cost to him.
There is yet another solution, brought to mind by episode 4 of season 4 of Curb Your Enthusiasm, in which Larry David admits to peeing sitting down. Optimal for her, and, David claims, good for him as well.
“If I pee twenty times in a day I can get through the whole New York Times, for god's sake!”
That's two posts today that mention bathroom operations. My mind is really in the toilet.
It's almost a Norman Rockwell scene with a group of Cub Scouts, young lovers, football hero murals, and locals enjoying the warm and homey atmosphere. Chase says time itself is the raw material of the scene as the suspense builds with pinpoint editing while Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" propels the action to its climax—a heart-stopping cut to black.
Chase was after the dreamy, chilling feeling he admired at the end of Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey in which time expands and contracts as life and death merge into one. And there, as in the concluding instant of The Sopranos, who knows what really happens. "When it's over," Chase offers, "I think you're probably always blindsided by it. That's all I can say."
It was my decision to direct the episode such that whenever Tony arrives someplace, he would see himself. He would get to the place and he would look and see where he was going. He had a conversation with his sister that went like this. And then he later had a conversation with Junior that went like this. I had him walk into his own POV every time. So the order of the shots would be Tony close-up, Tony POV, hold on the POV, and then Tony walks into the POV. And I shortened the POV every time. So that by the time he got to Holsten's, he wasn't even walking toward it anymore. He came in, he saw himself sitting at the table, and the next thing you knew he was at the table.
David Chase breaks down all the shots from that famous last scene of The Sopranos. Brilliant. If you watched the show, it's a must read.
One of my longstanding issues with those who claim TV has surpassed movies is that the brutal deadlines of TV often lead to the most mechanical of camera framing and shot sequencing, or very cookie cutter episode structure. It can feel, at times, like a somewhat brutish and blunt art, even if the consistent and timely output of TV inspires its own awe. 1
I suspect a lot of the shift in support from movies to TV are about the increased quality and convenience of the TV viewing experience and less about what's actually shown. With the proliferation of cable channels and streaming services and connected boxes, we have greater supply of TV than at any time in history. With high definition television sets and a surge in high definition content, the quality is better than ever. With DVRs and streaming services and mobile devices, the convenience is greater than at any time in history. Meanwhile, movies still require you to go to a theater at a specific time, find parking, fight others for good seats, and deal with all the other patrons. But all that said, if you judge movies against TV just based on the content itself, movies still reach greater peaks. It's not a fair comparison because an hour and a half movie has way more budget and time allotted for its creation than even many hours of TV, but that's just the nature of the art forms. ↩
What The Sopranos brought to TV was a higher level of craft. Movies and TV shows that are constructed with real artistic intent provide a larger surface area for analysis, and they work on you in ways both conscious and subconscious. Even more than that, they reward repeat viewing in a way that most television does not.
Chase's love of music always reflected itself in very exacting editing. The rhythm of the shots in the show had a lyrical feel. Many TV shows have a very consistent shot length and sequence of shot sizes from scene to scene. Watch your basic sitcom or medical/legal procedural with a stopwatch and verify for yourself. Shows like The Sopranos, or more recently Breaking Bad, don't follow strict templates. In their more varied cinematography they resemble movies. It helps, of course, that season lengths for shows like that are much shorter than for most network TV shows. It allowed for more time to craft each episode, and that shows through.
I love the timing of the lyric when Carmela enters: 'Just a small town girl livin' in a lonely world, she took the midnight train goin' anywhere.' Then it talks about Tony: 'Just a city boy,' and we had to dim down the music so you didn't hear the line, 'born and raised in South Detroit.' The music cuts out a little bit there, and they're speaking over it. 'He took the midnight train goin' anywhere.' And that to me was [everything]. I felt that those two characters had taken the midnight train a long time ago. That is their life. It means that these people are looking for something inevitable. Something they couldn't find. I mean, they didn't become missionaries in Africa or go to college together or do anything like that. They took the midnight train going anywhere. And the midnight train, you know, is the dark train.
Chase doesn't say whether Tony dies or not at the end. My opinion is he did die, but when you read this piece and hear Chase discuss the ending, it's clear that question doesn't really matter. Whether it's a narrative death for Tony, or just the death of the show, the greater point of the cut to black was of endings in general.
I thought the ending would be somewhat jarring, sure. But not to the extent it was, and not a subject of such discussion. I really had no idea about that. I never considered the black a shot. I just thought what we see is black. The ceiling I was going for at that point, the biggest feeling I was going for, honestly, was don't stop believing. It was very simple and much more on the nose than people think. That's what I wanted people to believe. That life ends and death comes, but don't stop believing. There are attachments we make in life, even though it's all going to come to an end, that are worth so much, and we're so lucky to have been able to experience them. Life is short. Either it ends here for Tony or some other time. But in spite of that, it's really worth it. So don't stop believing.
The second teaser for this Christmas' release of Star Wars: The Force Awakens has dropped.
Get your first look at the new Star Wars: The Force Awakens teaser #2! Lucasfilm and visionary director J.J. Abrams join forces to take you back again to a galaxy far, far away as "Star Wars" returns to the big screen with "Star Wars: The Force Awakens."
If we're being honest, this teaser and its predecessor aren't really all that remarkable. They're largely just montages of random characters, spliced in some random order, like the famously opaque teasers for the next episode of Mad Men. 1
The studios forced showrunner Matthew Weiner to have bumpers teasing the next episode, against his wishes, so he countered by assembling them in such a non-linear, random fashion, almost like some William Burroughs narrative deconstruction, that essentially they give away nothing. ↩
But if I'm being honest, this trailer excited me more than the last one, largely because it includes more familiar callbacks than the previous one. Star Wars is a shockingly enduring franchise. Even my nephews who haven't seen a single Star Wars movie love the franchise and know most of its characters. Through cartoons, toys, books, and other forms of merchandise, the story has become one of the defining mythologies of modern entertainment. It has both a grandeur of scale and yet an intimacy that characterize some of history's most operatic epics. Not even three cinematic duds in a row were enough to kill off the franchise, it is that indestructible.
Given our long and deep collective history with the saga, anyone cutting a trailer can tap that mother lode of nostalgia with the gentlest of tugs. Just hearing the first cue of John Williams elegiac Star Wars score and seeing a desert landscape are enough to summon an image of a young Luke Skywalker, standing in the sand, staring out towards the horizon of Tatooine, wondering if there's anything more to his life than working his Uncle's farm.
Christmas can't come soon enough.