26 September 2009
I'm interested to see how it compares to Zombieland.
(**Okay, so it's not the Arctic, it's just Norway, but "Arctic" sounds better).
24 September 2009
Breathe, No Line On The Horizon, Get On Your Boots, Magnificent, Mysterious Ways, Beautiful Day, Elevation, I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - Moving On Up, Unknown Caller, New Year's Day, Stuck In A Moment, The Unforgettable Fire, City of Blinding Lights, Vertigo, I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight (remix), Sunday Bloody Sunday, MLK, Walk On, One-Amazing Grace, Where the Streets Have No Name, Ultraviolet, With or Without You, Moment of Surrender.
I'm pretty sure some of the isolated screams you can make out in the background are the guy who was seated next to my mom. Apparently when the song started he turned to her and said, "This is my favourite song!" I marvel at the luck of U2 playing your favourite song when your favourite songs has been seemingly forgotten by the world, if not U2 themselves.
One of my favourite moments was the beginning of Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For. Bono only had to sing the first line and the crowd took over for the first two verses. Odd, that my favourite parts of a concert are when Bono isn't singing, but there's just something so great about thousands of people all singing together.
So, the music is one good reason to see it twice. Not just to see the songs you would have missed, but to see the songs you love twice.
I have seen U2 six times now, and I had never been this close before. We were closer than the picture really suggests. I could see the muscles clench in Larry's jaw. I could see the sweat on Bono's face. I could see the details of Adam's pants. It's hard for me to find the words, but it was one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life, to be that close to a band I've idolised for years. At one point, the moving catwalk was over my head and Adam walked over me. I was less than 2 feet from him. I know I sound all creepy and stalkerish but you have to realize this is my version of a religious experience.
Now, that view was not without it's price. We got in line at noon, and sat outside in the sun all afternoon. Then, when the doors opened at 5, we had to run out onto the field and into the "inner" stage to get a good spot. Then we had to wait, the whole time defending our spot against the hordes of other U2 fans. There wasn't much room to move, so basically we shifted our weight from one foot to the other from 5-11pm. When I finally went to bed that night (at about 5am, after driving to my cabin) my legs were throbbing from the pain. Really, a small price to pay, and one I'd gladly pay again.
The rest of the crappy pictures I took with my assy camera are in my online album. I didn't want to spend the whole time taking pictures, which I might have done if I had a half-descent camera, so maybe it's a blessing that I don't.
06 September 2009
I had a point, and it's that I'm uncomfortable with all these book titles that imply women can be defined by the men in their lives:
The Piano Man's Daughter
The Memory Keeper's Daughter
The Zookeeper's Wife
The Time Traveller's Wife
And those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. A quick search of Amazon brings up:
The Imposter's Daughter
The King's Daughter
The Pilot's Wife
The Doctor's Wife
The Senator's Wife
The Witch Doctor's Wife
It bothers me how these women are defined wholly by the occupation of the men in their lives. I would never describe myself as the Civil Servant's Daughter. My father's occupation is not somehow a descriptor of my life. I understand that the men in their lives can influence them, but (for example) the Memory Keeper's Daughter would have been the same person whether her father was a photographer ("memory keeper") or not. And, Ahab's wife would have been just as head strong had she never met Ahab. I mean, what the men do are not who the women are and it bothers me. The implication is like the Queen is the Queen, and that's cool and all, but she'll never really be more than the King's Wife.
It bothers me in the same way that bird nomenclature bothers me. We name birds after the male colouration, and the poor girl birds have to live the absurdity of being called the brilliant blue-throated warbler or whatever and they're just brown. Seems wrong, somehow, doesn't it?
05 September 2009
Douglas Coupland books are like Christmas. You look forward to it for so long, and it's great when it finally arrives, but then it's over and you have to wait for next Christmas. Except in CoupLand, Christmas comes biannually, so the wait is even longer.
My shiny new copy of Generation A arrived last week and I actually held off reading it for about a day, because I new once I started I'd devour it in a day and then I'd be left without any new Coupland for years. It's hard being a book junkie, ya'll, we wait so long for our fixes. It's not like I can just go the Dartmouth ghetto and get a new Coupland in a dark alley. You know?
Generation A is pretty damn great. It didn't evoke the emotional reaction from me that Hey Nostradamus! does, but it made me think more than his other books. Or maybe not. I find that Coupland is so deft at describing and explaining human behaviour that all his books make me fairly introspective. This book is being marketed as the next Generation X, but aside from the story-telling aspect (in both books the characters gather together and tell stories), it didn't remind me of Generation X at all. If anything, it's a next step from Girlfriend in a Coma - an end-of-humanity story done Coupland-style. Both that and this book have elements of science fiction in it, but where Girlfriend in a Coma was apocalyptic, Generation A is more dystopic.
And here is a video clip of Coupland (there are more clips available on iTunes, which I suppose means I need to download iTunes now).
04 September 2009
"Hurricane Bill is barely gone and now we’re watching Hurricane Candidate Danny (although I’m sure he prefers being called Dan). Danny, being completely unoriginal, is planning on hitting us roughly the same time of the week that Bill did. I officially dislike Danny because even if he doesn’t come with us, he’s going to screw up the swells enough that I can neither dive nor surf this weekend. Alej & I have been planning on a dive/surf weekend all summer and stupid Danny has to go and ruin it. [In the end, my last minute work road trip ruined our plans. I suppose I owe Dan an apology].
Here is a list of the storm names for 2009:
Ana, Bill, Claudette, Danny, Erika, Fred, Grace, Henri, Ida, Joaquin, Kate, Larry, Mindy, Nicholas, Odette, Peter, Rose, Sam, Teresa, Victor, Wanda.
Why are Hurricane names so soft? Henri? Mindy?! And there was a Hurricane Larry last year! Are they allowed to recycle the names? Why not Hurricane Luther? Luther is a vaguely evil-sounding name. Why don’t they use names that are inherently more aggressive? Some suggestions: Adolf, Butch, Crowded-places, Dalek, Evil, Father, Gangrene, Hurricane (as an homage to Major Major), Interest, Jerk, Khan, Luther, Mouse, NSF, Oppression, Patton, Q, Rat, Schmurricane, Taxes, Ursula, V, Wolfgang, X, Y, Z. "
So there you have it. I couldn't think of many good hurricane names. Those pesky end-of-the-alphabet letters are hard. Any ideas?