Death is here

After promising that “Death is coming soon” for nearly five years now, Death to Culture has finally arrived.

This section of the 8sails web site is like no other, as its distinctive look and feel indicate. It’s designed to be a little “edgier” than the rest, more openly antagonistic to some of the nonsense that goes on. If 8sails in general is the guy muttering criticism to the other folks at his table in the bad American Media Comedy Club, then DtC is the extra-drunk heckler down front.

The new section may eventually include essays and maybe even original art. At the moment, however, all the entries – all four of them – are lists of grievances. Which is nice, because lists are easy to add to, and we’ve all got grievances now and again.

I’m also pleased that activation of this section means that we now have no more “dark” pages on the left-hand side of the Octopus. Still some dark and dim spots in the Media section, but we’ll get there soon enough.

Progress update

The Herd is done.

This is likely to be the last work on the guide that's going to be visible anytime soon. I've got a lot of behind-the-scenes prep work (info gathering, organization, writing, graphics, etc.) to complete before I'm going to be ready to upload more stuff.

Still, I'll keep you posted.

Review – A Paralyzing Fear

Suffering, dying children and medical experiments on live monkeys? I must just have had too much joy in my life when I sat down to watch this documentary about Polio in America. On the other hand, at least it was a reasonably well-assembled piece of work, a good example of what university filmmakers can accomplish with a little time and effort. I was especially impressed by the use of interviews and family pictures, particularly of the woman who to this day still lives in an iron lung. The only part that bugged me – other than the suffering, of course – was the odd, repeated emphasis on the lack of government oversight as a boon to Salk's vaccine development. I think I understand what they were trying to say, but after awhile it developed the flavor of drug company anti-regulation propaganda. Mildly amusing

Review – The Evictors

Once again something that's billed as a supernatural drama turns into a simple case of poorly-motivated murder. After being violently evicted from their house, some rustics lurk around waiting for anyone who tries to buy the place and move in. Mystery non-mysterious. Script non-existent. Gore unconvincing. Trouble not worth taking. See if desperate

Review – Pact with the Devil

Oscar Wilde's famous tale of eternal youth at high cost gets a 21st century luke-warm reheat. This time around Dorian is a reluctant fashion model, the picture is a photograph, and his Lord Henry (Malcolm McDowell) has a more distinctly Satanic twist. What it lacks is any visual sense of moral corruption. Sure, the photo gets nastier as it goes. But the production is spectacularly squeamish about open depiction of any of the sins laying waste to the protagonist’s soul. I get why a version of this story shot in 1945 would have to be careful about what it showed and what it didn't, but why does the 2001 go-around have to be so prudish? It seriously weakens the case it’s trying to make. See if desperate

Eight movie characters’ jobs I’d love to have

Here's a question that often surfaces whenever the topic of discussion is "the movies" and someone needs an ice breaker question. If you could be any character in any movie, whom would you be? An action hero like Indiana Jones? A romantic lead like Ilsa or Rick from Casablanca? Someone noble like Atticus Finch?

Not me. I want to be a Honky Horn Guy.

You've seen these musicians in every historical epic ever made. They stand there in the background, looking snappy in their ornate uniforms and big, snazzy hats (they always get the best hats). They have the ultimate in job security. Archdukes and senators can get their heads lopped off left and right, but even the maddest monarch never bothers with the Honky Horn Guys. And best of all, their job is about as easy as it gets. These things aren't trumpets or saxophones or something that takes actual talent to play. As near as I can tell, it's strictly a case of "put your lips on it and blow." Caesar approaches! Do do do do do WAAAAAA! His majesty will now pronounce his verdict! Do do do do do WAAAAAA! So let it be written, so let it be done! Do do do do do WAAAAAA!

I can do that.

If there aren't any openings in the Honky Horn Corps (and that's gotta be a job in high demand), then I'm willing to settle for Palace Mumbler. These folks never seem to have anything to say right out loud until the trend of current events becomes clear. Then ever-so-softly they speak the collective mind. Moses is being dragged away in chains to be exiled to Sinai? Someone has to stand there muttering "Do not look upon him" or "Traitor to Pharaoh" while he slowly makes his exit. Cecil B. DeMille was especially fond of these folks. So fond, indeed, that every once in awhile he'd give such a person an actual line to deliver.

If I could be just one of these one-line wonders, it would have to be the Captain of the Guard from The Ten Commandments. When they're evicting Dathan The Chief Hebrew Overseer (Edward G. Robinson) from his house, Dathan naturally wants to know where he and the rest of the Israelites are going. "To hell, I hope!" is the guard's only reply. Oh to have le mot juste come so trippingly to my tongue and be able to utter it without fear of consequences!

On a related career path, one of the cushiest jobs in moviedom is Castle Guard for the Wicked Witch of the West. Sharp-looking uniform. Bad-ass halberd. And the job description apparently consists of "march up and down chanting oo-ee-oo-ee-oo-oo." I mean, their employer is a witch for crying out loud. It's not like she needs any actual guarding. Maybe throw yourself between her and a bucket of water every once in awhile. But that's it.

Working for a witch naturally raises a more general question about the benefits and drawbacks of playing for the wrong team. For example, the easiest job in the Star Wars series is the Imperial henchman who follows Darth Vader around and cleans up the bodies of the dudes he mind-strangles. Someone pisses Vader off, he Forces them to death, and out come the guys in black uniforms to cart off the corpse. Talk about a cushy detail. The only trick is to make sure to store up your leave and take it right before the rebels blow up the Death Star.

Another good way to avoid heavy duty is to be a character in a crowd scene directed by someone who can't do crowd scenes. The next time you're watching Scarface, keep an eye on the "energetic" participants in the riot scene in the beginning. My personal favorite – my movie job role model – is the one who lackadaisically waves his arms like a member of order Mustelidae and then quits entirely once the actors with lines make it past him.

Perhaps I could combine the pursuit of lassitude with my childhood ambition to be a spy. Obviously being James Bond or Jack Ryan isn't in the cards, but heroes like them have a need for people like me. As the bad stuff goes down and the protagonist is out in the field battling the forces of evil, back at HQ the head of Central Intelligence / MI-6 / Mossad / whatever stands around nervously monitoring the mission's progress. And in the background they always have a hearty compliment of men and women in suits who do nothing but look intense and mumble things to one another.

Given the circumstances, one could be forgiven for assuming that whatever they're saying must be of great importance. But then I used to think the same thing about mound conferences in baseball. When the manager walks slowly to the center of the field to have a brief palaver with a struggling pitcher, I always figured that out there where the fans can't hear he's drawing some brilliant parallel between the Athenian victory over Xerxes at Salamis and the importance of keeping the runner close at first. But after actually hearing audio recorded during some of these mound trips, I note that they tend to be more like "Hey, Mike. Everything going okay?" "Yeah sure, Ed." "Okay then, go get 'em."

I'll bet the Spy Movie HQ Mumblers are doing the same thing. Sure, they look like they're hashing out the details of bringing NATO's nuclear arsenal to bear in the event of mission failure. But if the boom mic accidentally drifted in their direction, all we'd learn is where they're going for pizza after work.

Every once in a rare while I wake up on the right side of the bed and sally forth into the world looking to actually accomplish something. And when such a rare mood strikes me, the movie job I want is Prosecuting Attorney in a Tense Courtroom Drama. For starters, these folks are almost always smart and almost always cynical. On a good day I can a mange that. But the real attraction of the job is the moral stance. After years of watching the Royals play the Yankees, I've become thoroughly convinced that being right is more important than winning.

And that's the prosecutor's job description in a nutshell. No matter haw talented or intelligent she is, the DA is going to lose to the wily defense lawyer. Ah, but the final twist more often than not is that the defendant really was a vicious psychopath whose acquittal places innocent lives at risk. If only that stupid jury had listened to me ...

However, if I could really be one movie character, one guy who would be cool and fun rather than merely easy, I'd pick Kyuzo the master swordsman from The Seven Samurai. This guy is the ultimate Feudal Japanese badass. He's the best at what he does – which just happens to be killing bad guys – and he never loses his total sense of calm and control. Never draws his sword unless he has to, but when he does things are usually over quickly. If a mad scientist somehow gene-spliced Bruce Lee and Mr. Spock and then endlessly drilled his creation in kenjitsu, Kyuzo is what you'd get.

For that I'd even be willing to give up my dream of joining the Honky Horn ranks.

Progress update

Four more cows added to the herd this morning. That's 15 spots down and five to go (with reasonably solid concepts for all of the unfinished graphics).

Some trivia about the ones I added today:

In the Television graphic, the picture faintly visible in the background is a Soviet-era test pattern from Russia.

The Radio picture is of course our friend the Survival Cow masquerading as the inestimable Dr. John Romulus Brinkley.

And the Books graphic is a combination of a couple of pages from the Book of Kells (plus a little 21st century addition).