2. I just watched “Logan’s Run” on DVD. When “Minority Report” came out Spielberg was going on about how they created the future world by taking the stuff we have now and projecting it into the future. Well, y’know, that’s also what the designers did when they were creating the 23rd century utopia of “Logan’s Run”. Only it looks very much like 1976. Like a 1976 mall. I expect in 30 years’ time “Minority Report” will look the same. Oh how we will chuckle at the cheesy special effects.

3. I was at a juice bar today and I ordered a smoothie. I paid for it with my credit card, but their machine did not accept credit card payments. It was really busy, so both the girls working there were busy making all the orders, and no one noticed that my transaction hadn’t gone through. I stood there with a ten dollar note in my hand waiting to be asked for an alternative method of payment, but it didn’t happen. One of them went up to the machine, ripped off the paper with the error message printed on it, then went back to making smoothies. When mine was made the girl gave it to me and went back to making more. Oh well.

4. You know what I’m really sick of at the moment? The New Zealand music scene. This is rather bad timing as May is New Zealand Music Month. I think I might have to not listen to any radio, not watch any music TV, not read any music press. Yes, I may make it to June with my sanity intact.

5. Oh, there’s this great scene in “Logan’s Run” where Logan and Jessica, after having been soaked with water, find themselves in an icy winterland. They find some furry animal skins to wear, but Logan suggests first that they take off their other clothes so they don’t have the cold, wet clothing on. This of course means that Jessica must show us her boobies. Then moments later, after the freaky mirror robot comes along, they put their clothes back on. Now that is actual gratuitous nudity. None of this pretend gratuitous nudity that my generation prides itself on.

6. Speaking of nudity, oh how scandalous it is to see the Big Brother housemates showering naked, and how nice those ones are who shower in their swimsuits or underwear. But then, hey, isn’t it normal to shower in the nude?

The kids spent most of the movie twisting in their seats, bored. The dark adult humour of the film didn’t get anywhere near them. The grandmother spent most of the movie with her neck turned towards the kids, getting them to sit down, handing them popcorn and generally not watching the movie.

But the best bit came during the scene in the movie when Tim Blake Nelson’s character comes out of his house with just a quilt wrapped around him. His dog bites the quilt and pulls it away and there’s a brief glimpse of his donger. As soon as the penis appeared, the grandmother quickly reached over and put her hand over the eyes of the kid in the seat next to her. She loudly whispered to the others “don’t look! Don’t look!”, but by then the next scene had come and the penis was but a funny memory.

John C. Riley was in it. Dylzno has a theory that all movies John C. Riley is in are good. (Ditto for Edward Norton.) I’d go for a lower hit rate, but this was one was good. This, along with “Chicago” and “The Hours” rounds out his lousy-husband trilogy. In this one he was a goofy, pot-smoking husband.

I should also mention Jake Gyllenhaal. I was totally in love with him after seeing “Donny Darko”, but I’m out of love with him after “The Good Girl”. His character is excellent. He’s what a cinematic troubled, rebellious loner teen would be like in real life. i.e. a pretentious dickhead. He’s endlessly cute on the outside, but once Jennifer Aniston’s character (and the audience) get to know him, the crazy, mixed-up ugliness is becomes apparent. And we welcome the real world, where the heroine picks the pot-smoking husband over the cute badboy.

Oh, I just gave away the ending. Or did I?

Because a film isn’t about plot, it’s about how the plot is executed.

—

Oh yes, on the bus there’s now a magazine for people to read on the bus. It is called “Ticket”. I felt alienated soon after I opened it and read the the magazine was “to read as you get yourself to work”. Not school, not the shops, not uni, not the movies, not a sports even, no, just work. “Ticket” is really boring. It’s filled with boring articles on boring subjects. Boring reviews of things that describe it, but barely express an opinion on it. An unfunny humour column (but isn’t describing something as being funny almost a guarantee that it won’t be?), and that old, old trick of having an article about a subject that is later advertised in the magazine. The editorial urges readers to “stop staring out the window” and read the magazine, but quite frankly, looking out the window is way more interesting than reading boring articles.

Yeah, because if you want something to read on the bus, it’s ok for it to be light and disposable, but make it interesting. I mean, you wouldn’t want to fall asleep and miss your stop.

The guy walking in front of me: “Like Tarantino used to do.”
The woman walking behind me: “Horrible. Really, really bad.”

It was neither. It was about a fellow whose nephew shows up and asks him to help him be a hit with the ladies. But while it was about the art (or science) of seduction, it’s also about ree-lay-shon-ships. This lady sitting a few seats down from me laughed a lot at stuff that wasn’t remotely funny. Like, there’d be a cut to a new scene and she’d laugh.

Tomorrow night I will have houseguests:

man, its going to be farken choice. you are farkrn choice for putting us up for the night. perhaps you are innocent and naive and have never hosted dodgy rock n roll musicians in your innocent unspotlt flat before? yes, that’ll be it. if thats the case, apologies in advance. but hey, you might get a nice article for your zine out of it.

Oh my!

st00 came over and we watched the Brit Awards. J. Timberlake sang a medley of songs then Kylie came out and they performed “Rapture” and Justin grabbed her arse and it was magnificent. st00 accused me of liking Robbie Williams, and I was going to get all defensive and be like “I DO NOT LIKE HIM!!!!”, but then I realised that actually if I was in his rockstar manor with cocaine and champagne all that shit, I wouldn’t be complaining. Well, something like that, anyway.

A month or so ago I ended up doing the sports quiz with some friends. I miserably failed – something like six out of 40, but it was fun. Tonight I noticed a few people who were at the sports quiz were also there for the Kiwi quiz. So are there serial quiz attendees, people who show up every month hoping to score the big prizes? And more to the point, am I becoming one of them?

With my winnings I bought the Rough Guide to New Zealand, which is all part of my masterplan.

Oh, I also saw “Maid In Manhattan”. It’s obvious it’s the school holidays – cellphones were constantly ringing and beeping during the film. I have this theory about the films that Jennifer Lopez makes – there are J-Lo movies, and there are Jennifer Lopez films. J-Lo movies are the crappy, movie star, money-making exercises, while Jennifer Lopez films are well written, well acted and less crowd-pleasing.

“The Wedding Planner” and “Maid In Manhattan” are J-Lo movies. “Angel Eyes” and “The Cell” are Jennifer Lopez films. “Enough” might seem like a Jennifer Lopez film, but it’s actually a J-Lo movies, as “Out Of Sight” might seem like a J-Lo, but it’s actually a Jennifer Lopez.

(Actually, “Out Of Sight” is a really excellent movie. It’s one of my all-time faves, yo.)

Ok, back to “Maid In Manhattan”. J-Lo and Ralph Fiennes and the cute kid were all boring and predictable. The characters that interested me were Stanley Tucci and Amy Sedaris’ characters. He was the politician’s manager person, and she was there only to make Natasha Richardson’s character look less bitchy in comparison. But they were both bitter and disgusting and much more fun than the maid or the politician. Ah, but it’s a fairytale, so we mustn’t expect too much.

To: Robyn Gallagher
Subject: Jackass tickets

I would really like tickets for the film.
Thanks

Y’know, I would like Jackass tickets too, but I don’t have any, and if I did, I probably wouldn’t give them to strange boys off the internet. I’m guessing that this guy did a search for something like “Incredible Film Fest tickets” and ignored the top search result (the official bIFF web site) and instead went to my site and thought he’d hit me up for some tickets.

I politely pointed him in the right direction.

I saw “Bringing Down The House” (I bought a ticket, I didn’t email anyone asking for one). It was a really dumb movie, but I somehow moved into this lower state of consciousness where I laughed at all the really dumb jokes.

There was one scene where Steve Martin has Joan Plowright over for dinner with his two kids, and Queen Latifah cooks. Plowright reminisces her childhood on a plantation and starts singing an old Negro spiritual, while Queen Latifah storms around the kitchen barely containing her rage. It was so silly that I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes. I think it’s mainly because for me the idea of a posh white person sincerely singing a Negro spiritual is one of the funniest things ever. It’s kind of what the story of the Fairfield Valley Community Players was based on.

But if he thinks he has it bad, he should grow being called Robyn and having to put up with all the Robin Hood TV shows and movies. Ha ha ha. Robyn has a boy’s name.

Ok, “I Spy”. It was disappointing. There were moments where it was really funny, but there were also moments where it was dull and I’d stop paying attention to the movie. You know there’ll be a scene in the movie where someone does something with almost comical precision, then it turns out to be a dream sequence, and their attempt to do that in real life is totally inept? Well “I Spy” was like the dream sequence. Ha ha ha! See the funny spies! If I want to see a funny spy parody I will see “Top Secret” on DVD.

Speaking of hot DVD action, I watched “Twelve Monkeys” again, but this time with the commentary track. Ok, when the film first came out I saw it three times at the movies and so I started picking up all these little details. One of the things that’s throughout the film is lots of monkey-themed items. I remember discussing this with a friend and I said that I’d just noticed that the TV in the mental hospital showed an ad for the Florida Keys. Keys, mon-key, the key to escape the mental hospital, etc. My friend looked at me and declared that I was reading way too much into the scene and, like, it was just the Florida Keys. He seemed to think that the destination of the Florida Keys had just been randomly chosen (by whom?). So tonight during the commentary Terry Gilliam himself said how great the script was with things like how the Florida Keys suggested monkeys and keys. Ha ha! I was right! Ok, I can let that one rest now.

We saw a boat called Awesome. It had a bunch of drunk people maniacally waving to everyone around the harbour. I reckon that’s the sort of thing that would happen on board a boat named Awesome. Like, you’d get on board trying to be all urban and sophisticated but a few glasses of Lindauer later and you’d end up lifting up your top and demanding that some complete stranger look at your tits. This applies to both men and women.

I was accidentally stalked today! Dylz and I were having dinner in Mercury Plaza and he pointed out a dude in Breeders t-shirt, cos I’d earlier been bitching about having forgotten to buy one. Then later I get into my second favourite chatroom (choice! ch@tr00mz!!!) and this dude’s like, “Were you at Mercury Plaza today?” It turns out he was the guy in the Breeders t-shirt. How very delightfully choice.

Doesn’t that just sound fruity? Like, really, really fruity? It is, but in a good way.

I saw “The Hours” today. I was trying to work out why Nicole Kidman looked so very frumpy – it’s because she has a false nose on. She was good in this film because she wasn’t being “Nicole Kidman: Sexy flame-haired sex bomb serious actress”. She was being Virginia Woolfe. It’s a fairly heavy movie, there’s lots of emotions, but in the end everything works out in a satisfactory way. It’s a sad ending, but not a tragic one. There’s death, but it’s more about life than death.

I’m so excited because the Breeders show is tomorrow. I’ve had two dreams over the last few weeks involving seeing the Breeders play. I’m not expecting it to be like a religious experience, I’m not going to be worshipping at the Alter of the Kim and the Kelley, I just want to have a good time.

Oh yeah, speaking of drinking beer. A few months ago I was in Sydney having dinner with a cool guy in a nice Italian restaurant overlooking Darling Harbour (yeah, that happens all the time) and the waiter comes over and asks if we want to order drinks. The guy orders a Boags and asked me if I’d like some wine. Oh no, kind sir. I would like some of that finest Tasmanian lager. I slept alone that night.

I joined the march just past Vulcan Lane. At the front there were people holding signs and chanting stuff like “1, 2, 3, 4, we don’t want your bloody war!” but further along was a group of drummers doing what I think was samba drumming while people around them chanted, “no war!” to the rhythm.

I’m not sure how many people were there, but it was a big crowd. I saw a report on NZoom estimating it as at least 7,000. When the front of the parade at reached Mayoral Drive, I looked back and I’m sure I could see people still down by Victoria Street.

The march ended up at Myers Park. The original plan was for it to end at Aotea Square, but like the construction in QE2 Square, the organisers apparently hadn’t counted on the weekend markets in Aotea Square. Myers Park turned out to be a better venue because there’s trees and grass, not just vast expanses of concrete and a big TV screen showing yacht racing.

There were various speakers, and the organisers had very wisely limited speeches to three minutes each. An Iraqi nun was the first to speak. Most speakers reminded us that the war was for oil, that Bush, Blair and Howard are dicks, and that innocent children are going to die if this war takes place.

Yeah, there were some hippies there, but there were thousands of ordinary people.

After the March I headed to Aotea square. I had coffee from the Kokako stand, which I think might just have to be the next installation in the Coffee From Places That Aren’t Starbucks series. It wasn’t necessarily the next closest coffee place, but it was a sunny day and I wanted to go somewhere outside. The coffee was good, in the way that coffee is good. The sign said it was organic coffee. Word up.

Then in search of air conditioned comfort I saw “Chicago”. I saw it on Thursday as well. The difference being that this time a dude came in and sat two seats down from me and took half his clothes off. That was pretty cool. I’m glad musicals are coming back in fashion, because a good musical is fun to watch. I saw “Evita” about four times at the movies (twice with a gay guy, yeah) and “South Park: Bigger, Longer, Uncut” three times. I only saw “Moulin Rouge” once, but I hear it’s more fun on DVD than in a cinema. The thing I liked the best about “Chicago” was how the musical numbers took place in fantasy, people didn’t spontaneously burst into song. The costumes were so good and the hair styles were brilliant. I totally want to go and get my hair permed and bobbed. (No, bad idea).

Dylzno and I were going to see the Chinese Lantern Festival, but the streets around Albert Park were packed and there was no parking to be found so we went to the Turkish place on K Road and had kebabs. They have hookahs there. At the next table there were some guys smoking from one. I don’t know what is being smoked, though. It’s not tobacco or pot. Lack of people passed out on pillows or waking up and writing epic poems suggests it’s not opium. How very mysterious!

To: Robyn
From: Pat
Subject: hello

will you please email me a brochure of your chocolate rouses thanks.

To: Pat
From: Robyn
Subject: Re: hello

Whilst the caffeine and sugar in chocolate can be somewhat rousing, I’m afraid I don’t know what a chocolate rouse is.

Whether it’s a sexual term or a type of confectionary, or some bizarre concept that only exists on the internet, I don’t know, and I don’t have any brochures on the mysterious chocolate rouse to send you.

Good luck with your search for the elusive chocolate rouse.

From: Pat
To: Robyn
Subject: Re: hello

UPSSSSSSSS I AM VERY SORRY !!!! THANK YOU FOR TAKING YOUR TIME TO ANSWER
I DIDNT MEAN TO ….. BYE BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

If I’d had the necessary software handling skillz, I would have got some pictures of some naked black women and put together a brochure advertising “Chocolate Rouses: These fine Nubian princesses will a-rouse you!”

—

I saw “Adaptation”. I was really excited about seeing it. Like, I woke up this morning and was like, “woohoo, It’s Thursday! “Adaptation” opens today! It reminded me of this thing I wrote about vanilla over a year ago. I’m going to have to dig it out and stick it up on my web site.

The film opens with Kaufman (Cage) doing this monologue about everything that’s wrong with his life and how it would be better, if only certain things would happen. I was like “OMG, that is totally me life.” Yes, my internal monologue sounds exactly like that.

“Adaptation” reminded me of “Mullholland Drive,” in that the last 20 minutes or so is quite different from the rest of the film, and it can be interpreted in different ways. But really, if you were going to go all out and write a formulaic Hollywood screenplay, where John Laroche and Susan Orlean become lovers, wouldn’t you write a sex scene in the swamp? Well, I would. Maybe that’s just me.

—

Hey, you know how people talk about the period of time in the late ’60s and the ’70s when the contraceptive pill had been invented, but before Aids happened, when people could just have condomless sex with anyone, and it was all marvellous, blah, blah, blah, pass the disco boots?

Well, what about the time when cigarettes became readily available, when they weren’t taxed to hell, when you could smoke in public buildings, and before people had figured out that cigarettes were physically addictive and could cause cancer and heart disease? Oh yes, that would have been a very special time.