:: Omnia Mutantur ::

:: Monday, October 29, 2001 ::

Honesty seems to go a long way

My set of images on the inspiration for The Machine has gotten an amazing response so far. While they aren't my best photographs ever - technically speaking - people seem to be reacting to something that I fear.

It's perhaps that it's a personal topic or maybe that it's a subject not often seen in Photo.net; and I may not agree with the ratings that some of them are receiving nor with all of the comments. But the fact is that the images are being seen out there, and people are saying what they think about them.

Something I created got out of the filing cabinet and into the world. And people noticed.

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 11:52 AM [+] ::
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There's this story I'm writing...

To tell you the truth, there's always a story I'm writing, or dropping, or putting in stasis, or just plainly letting go. I have a more extensive vocabulary when it comes to not doing stories than when I'm actually setting them on paper.

They behave in weird ways, these tales: one will appear out of nowhere, a half-formed premise struggling for air, and force itself into my attention whether I want it or not. It takes shape in front of me, revealing its overall form in broad strokes, most of the times taking me from beginning to end and leaving me just to fill in the blanks.

I almost never deliver. Most of the time I spend re-writing, editing myself as an excuse not to continue with the actual work of creating more flesh around the tale's bones. Sometimes I play this subconscious game where I suddenly realize that specific something that influenced an important part of the story, and I tell myself I made some progress because I realized that the Neumann from Madeinjapan was The Thing and the Maelstrom was my mix of Heinlein and HAL.

But this specific story has a special place in my stubborn psyche, just because it has been around so long and in so many forms. It first came to me back in 1994 as a plot for a game that never got off the ground. It went dormant (see, I told you) for some four or five years until I ran once again into the friend who had done the original sketches and we decided to continue the project as a graphic novel. After finding reams of reference images for the style, he failed to deliver some semblance of an art test and I decided that it would be better to do it as an illustrated novel: this way, I would be able to continue writing without depending on the artist and he could eventually choose which parts he wanted to illustrate. But never found a style that suited it, and so decided to try my hand at a screenplay mainly because it was such a visual story.

It is still on that much-mutated larval stage, but something interesting happened again a few weeks ago: I realized which had been the deformed muse for the blood-flesh-metal-torture antagonist. I didn't let the idea compost for too long least it got spoiled like so many others and did a photo shoot of the object of my fear at the first chance.

Here are my favorites. At least this time something concrete was created.

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 1:27 AM [+] ::
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Death by entertainment suffocation

While in the process of writing lengthy comments of The Million Dollar Hotel (good, even with Wim Wenders slow direction, and worth just for Tim Roth's short discourse) and The Caveman's Valentine (Jackson's performance is great for a strange blend of Shine and Lost Souls, with some imagery leaking from The Cell) it came to me that I spend too much time commenting on movies. So I'll leave it at that.

This record will take a more personal turn in the future.

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 1:07 AM [+] ::
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Done with the Factory

Finished The Wasp Factory. Contained the expected punchline, saw it coming, there was no point to the joke. It doesn't have an ending, it just ends, and sections are absolutely irrelevant. But Banks has a macabre imagination and there are scenes that will stay with you for a while.

It's only for those with patience, though.

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 1:18 PM [+] ::
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Blasphemous times

I've been playing Call of Cthulhu for only, oh, five or six of the twenty years that it has been in the market. No matter what other great games we try (Nobilis among those few other brilliant ones I've encountered) Call of Cthulhu is the one my continually-recycling group has enjoyed the most.

I drooled for months, expecting the much delayed release of the 20th Anniversary tome (again, only topped by Nobilis 2nd edition delays), even going as far as shelling the extra cash for the Library Edition. Receiving it last week, I took several photos of its packaging so as to preserve it and then waited until the weekend to open it ceremoniously with my group.

It's gorily beautiful.

This last week has been partly spent attempting to write something that does it justice, but fortunately Kenneth Hite made that need irrelevant with both a good overview of the new edition and the best description of the game I've ever read. I'll just make a quiet exit while Mr. Hite takes a stage that he deserves a lot more than I do.

(P.S.: I'm not sure if it's worth shelling the extra $40 for the Library Edition, but if you are a fan, don't even entertain second thoughts about the regular Anniversary Edition).

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 11:24 AM [+] ::
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Wading through Scottish-written mud

News have been slow in coming lately because I'm sloughing through Iain Banks's The Wasp Factory. Banks certainly needs to shut up his sociopathic character's mind once in a while to allow the story to continue, but what Frank says is usually captivating enough to make you want to go on.

I'll try not to give up on the remaining 30%, but I fear I can see the punchline looming ahead.

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 11:22 AM [+] ::
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On Writing

If only Stephen King wrote his novels like he writes his non-fiction, I'd be as much of a fan of his now as I was when a teenager.

I should clarify: I do like some of his novels. Eyes of the Dragon is a great horrific fantasy, The Shinning is just plain scary and I still feel dirty after reading Carrie so many years ago. But don't try to defend The Tommyknockers, It's ridiculous last 20 pages (a sad blemish on an otherwise excellent book) or the non-sequitur ending of the Green Mile; or you'll get shot down. The man can certainly write, but I keep getting the impression that he doesn't finish his books as much as decide he doesn't like them anymore and does his damndest to be rid of them as soon as possible.

With On Writing he circumvents this problem in two ways. First, it's non-fiction so there isn't an actual plot to take care of (duh!); but mainly, the book is a loose thread of anecdotes, advice on the art of writing and stories of how Mr. King came to be. His prose shines an arresting flashlight on his life and craft, making the book a worthy read. Sure, some of the anecdotes feel forced, like he's trying really hard to say something clever that comes from his childhood and can somehow be related to the topic at hand. But overall it's a good read with some sound advice included, and that's all that should matter.

Extra points for King for not liking Robert James Weller's wooden Bridges of Madison County, even if he forgets to mention the movie as a great example of when a film surpasses the original work it was based on (perhaps he's fed up of people saying that about Carrie and The Shinning).

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 6:27 PM [+] ::
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Calling Werner Diehl

This might seem a bit out of topic, but I'm running out of options.

I'm looking for a way to contact Werner Diehl, a german national living in Costa Rica. Last time I knew of him he was my neighbor in Los Yoses, but we moved, I lost his postal address and then he moved to San Ramón.

I doubt that you're reading this, Werner, but if anyone else knows him we'd like to get in touch again.

Cheers!

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 2:05 AM [+] ::
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Sheer brilliance

You know that strange, almost unbearable feeling that you get in the presence of unadulterated brilliance? It feels just like excitement and quite a bit like awe. Yes, that sensation that watching Fight Club or Natural Born Killers or Dangerous Liaisons for the first time gives you.

I just got it today from Memento.

(By the way, Feliz Cumpleaños Braulio!!!!!)

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 12:19 AM [+] ::
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A tale of two screw-ups

I've been a naughty, naughty customer. Every now and then I get this strange idea that the grass might have more contrast on the farther side of the hedge. I've put aside Amazon.com's great service for saving a couple of bucks on shipping or the price of a CD. Both times I've been burned.

My first problem was with Buy.com, who sent me the tape version of Santana's Supernatural instead of the CD. When I contacted them about the error their customer service insisted that I must have ordered the tape, when the only version that they had listed on their catalogue was the CD (thus making it a bit impossible for me to have ordered anything else).

Then a couple of weeks ago I ordered some books from Barnes and Noble, including William S. Burroughs's trippy Naked Lunch. As if Burroughs's dopped-up writing wasn't complicated enough, B&N sent me an edition in German. And guess what? Their customer service refuses to send me another edition of the book, insisting that I didn't order Naked Lunch in the first place - even against my sending them a copy of their receipt and shipping confirmation.

I've been bad, Amazon, but I've learned my lesson. I promise I won't do it again.

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 11:13 AM [+] ::
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Topsy turvy

The world is crazy, I tell you. Steven Spielberg manages to completely botch A.I.; Frank Oz directs a heist movie that is a bit slow but damned good (Marlon Brando's arrogance at not wanting to be directed by Miss Piggy notwithstanding - his words, not mine); and A Knight's Tale ends up being quite fun instead of just plain silly.

What can we learn from them? First, be honest about the sort of movie you're making as A Knight's Tale was and people will enjoy your film a lot more. Know when to just wrap it up - just as Oz did with The Score - and don't bore people with pointless epilogues and double endings.

Oh, and Brando: nevermind the godfathers, wild ones or waterfronts, you shouldn't get cocky after The Island of Dr. Moreau.

:: Ricardo J. Méndez 11:18 AM [+] ::
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