So, after much bitching and whining from my friends and family, I decided to re-instate my facebook account. Initially I was most reticent to do this as I felt my initial point, whatever that was, was being proven and being proven well. I will not lie my friends, I took untold pleasure from saying to people "Sorry, luv, I'm not on facebook.....now smell this hanky"
After getting my account back, at first things proceeded much the same as they did before. I barely even checked my account, it was almost as if I didn't even have an account, certainly not one that I cared about. In fact, the only time I would ever even log in would be if I received an email from someone. The battle for my collected conscience, it seemed, had been won.
That was then. This is now.
Now, about a month later, I find myself - twitching and crouching like Gollum in his cave - almost involuntarily logging in to the site. Every time I've got a free few seconds, some demon takes possession of my being and forces my reluctant fingers to type my username and password, completely against my will. Every logical part of my brain knows there is nothing to be found there. No nourishment whatsoever. None. Not spiritually, emotionally, physically (well....let's not go that far), nothing. However I can do absolutely nothing about it. It's got me and I don't know what to do but delete my account and rid myself of this terrible curse once and for all.
I mean, and this is just one example, I logged in this morning to find at least 53 updates talking about snow. Fucking SNOW! I can feel myself becoming dumber by the second. I'm tempted to start using heroin to compensate. Not only would facebook become suddenly far less important, but there would also be all manor of medical help available should I ever wish to quit. Mark my words, people, for I am certain, many many years from now, it will be revealed that this whole thing was created by government mind control experts to keep the masses docile, apathetic and thus less likely to revolt. The enemy has many spies...
JB.
P.S - I'm not sure, but I think it's snowing in England.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Monday, December 3, 2012
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Mired In Muck
Good day fellow Earth dwellers,
Once again (and I'm aware there is a recurring theme developing here) this blog has been sorely neglected, leaving my hordes of salivating fans hungry and desperate for new material. So, to the many thousands of you that have been in contact with not just myself but the world's media, I wholeheartedly apologise. However, in my defence, it has been a very busy time. When I'm not editing reels for the actors of this town, I am home and editing our sketch show - the mighty "Starving In Hollywood". Now, when writing and creating said show, I thought "oh, this will be easy, each item will be a pleasurable summer's breeze to edit. Then it will be simply a matter of putting them side by side and Robert's your mother's brother". This has proven to NOT be the case.
You see, when creating fake reality shows, games shows, commercials, music videos, news reports etc etc etc I had sorely neglected the need for Motion Graphics. Motion Graphics? What the feck is that? I hear you hark. Well, friends, it is essentially the combination of visual arts, animation and sound design which is, to my feeble brain, an abominable nightmare to edit. You see, it's not like editing a film, which is difficult enough, where there is a single narrative, and merely a manipulation of image and sound to create a story. Here you are doing that EVERY SINGLE TIME you begin a new sketch. Each one requires an almost ungodly amount of title cards, animated images, flashy, snazzy cuts, and all manner of visual and audio special effects.
Some people reading that may think...piece of piss, what's he complaining about?...and to that I say, CALL ME. With immediate effect, as someone who actually knows how to do this stuff would be wonderful. However, as you might expect, these Motion Graphics chaps are in high demand and very short supply. So the burden has mostly fell on the shoulders of yours truly. Now, I'm not saying I mind, but yet again I find myself hopelessly in over my head and learning everything on the fly. The good thing is that it is all learnable and all of it is learnable in the bowels of youtube, where any question I may have is swiftly answered by a 12 year-old with a nifty "how to" video. Indeed it has been these interactions with the younglings of the interweb (take that how you will) which have slowly restored my faith in humanity. I think it speaks to the very best of human nature that these people spend hours toiling away finding out how to decipher this stuff, then have the good grace to put their findings online for simpletons like me to borrow and learn from. Those people should be the fibre of our society and lauded as such.
The good news at the end of all this is that we are getting closer and closer to having a rather excellent series on our hands (at least...it makes me laugh) and something that will stand forever. I suppose that's the beauty of art isn't it? No matter how much toil and tyranny one suffers in creating it, when it's done, it's there forever - a capsule in time. It matters not that that time capsule may feature items such as "Willy Circus", "Dingo vs. Baby" and "Little Abortion Annie" it is still a time capsule nonetheless.
Love and other shite.
JB.
Once again (and I'm aware there is a recurring theme developing here) this blog has been sorely neglected, leaving my hordes of salivating fans hungry and desperate for new material. So, to the many thousands of you that have been in contact with not just myself but the world's media, I wholeheartedly apologise. However, in my defence, it has been a very busy time. When I'm not editing reels for the actors of this town, I am home and editing our sketch show - the mighty "Starving In Hollywood". Now, when writing and creating said show, I thought "oh, this will be easy, each item will be a pleasurable summer's breeze to edit. Then it will be simply a matter of putting them side by side and Robert's your mother's brother". This has proven to NOT be the case.
 |
| Never trust your television, kids. |
You see, when creating fake reality shows, games shows, commercials, music videos, news reports etc etc etc I had sorely neglected the need for Motion Graphics. Motion Graphics? What the feck is that? I hear you hark. Well, friends, it is essentially the combination of visual arts, animation and sound design which is, to my feeble brain, an abominable nightmare to edit. You see, it's not like editing a film, which is difficult enough, where there is a single narrative, and merely a manipulation of image and sound to create a story. Here you are doing that EVERY SINGLE TIME you begin a new sketch. Each one requires an almost ungodly amount of title cards, animated images, flashy, snazzy cuts, and all manner of visual and audio special effects.
 |
| A good, healthy, political debate |
Some people reading that may think...piece of piss, what's he complaining about?...and to that I say, CALL ME. With immediate effect, as someone who actually knows how to do this stuff would be wonderful. However, as you might expect, these Motion Graphics chaps are in high demand and very short supply. So the burden has mostly fell on the shoulders of yours truly. Now, I'm not saying I mind, but yet again I find myself hopelessly in over my head and learning everything on the fly. The good thing is that it is all learnable and all of it is learnable in the bowels of youtube, where any question I may have is swiftly answered by a 12 year-old with a nifty "how to" video. Indeed it has been these interactions with the younglings of the interweb (take that how you will) which have slowly restored my faith in humanity. I think it speaks to the very best of human nature that these people spend hours toiling away finding out how to decipher this stuff, then have the good grace to put their findings online for simpletons like me to borrow and learn from. Those people should be the fibre of our society and lauded as such.
 |
| Perfectly normal... |
The good news at the end of all this is that we are getting closer and closer to having a rather excellent series on our hands (at least...it makes me laugh) and something that will stand forever. I suppose that's the beauty of art isn't it? No matter how much toil and tyranny one suffers in creating it, when it's done, it's there forever - a capsule in time. It matters not that that time capsule may feature items such as "Willy Circus", "Dingo vs. Baby" and "Little Abortion Annie" it is still a time capsule nonetheless.
Love and other shite.
JB.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Lyrics To Live By
"So if you see me,
Walking around in the streets of your town,
Don't feel for me,
I've got more peace of mind than you ever shall find"
"Last Clown" - Turin Brakes
Walking around in the streets of your town,
Don't feel for me,
I've got more peace of mind than you ever shall find"
"Last Clown" - Turin Brakes
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Erection Day
Today is Election Day here in the States and for the first time in my entire history I find myself a nervous, shivering wreck. God, if you are up there, I beg you with all my heart and soul not to let Mitt Romney win this poll and reap damnation upon us all.
I used to think all politicians were the same, simply slick corporate mouthpieces with nothing on their agenda further than becoming deludedly powerful beyond measure, furthering their fame and creating a 'legacy' for themselves (most often by heaping misery on other, less important parts of the world). However, this time around I now know that to not be true. On the one hand you have Obama, a man who - judging by his policies - actually cares about his people and this country's future, both morally and legislatively, and on the other you have Romney. A fucking lunatic.
Not the most balanced argument I've ever made but this time around, for the first time, I am sitting through an election that has tangible issues which would affect my own personal life (along with everyone around me) quite drastically if they went one way or the other. More than that however, the precedents that would be set if Romney wins and fulfills his campaign promise(s) would plummet this country into the beginnings of real fascism. An actual, explicit "do this or we will jail you" state of affairs. The implications of these agendas are too terrifying to imagine, thus it is my eternal hope that a good, noble man is given four more years to do his bidding. No he's not perfect and yes he is still a politician but given the alternative, he has, in my eyes at least, now been promoted to defender of all things righteous and, more importantly, SANE.
For the love muffins and bagels, please everyone get out and vote. I can't, but for the first time in my life, I really really wish I could.
Peace and love,
John.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
These Eyes - The Guess Who
When it's obnoxiously hot (90 degrees in late October!), there are worse tunes to drive around LA to:
JB
JB
Thursday, October 25, 2012
10 Underrated Classics
Evening all, here is my list of 10 films which, despite being utterly brilliant, get no props at all, from anyone....ever. I highly suggest you go out and watch with immediate effect.
1) Jackie Brown (Quentin Tarantino, 1997) - Everyone's least favourite Tarantino film is nothing short of brilliant. Great acting, beautifully directed and one of the best soundtracks you're likely to hear. Also, features one of the best DeNiro performances of the 1990's and the line "I hate to be the type of n*gga that do a n*gga a favour and then bam, hit the n*gga up for a favour in return, but I gots to be that type of n*gga". Marvelous.
2) Unbreakable (M. Night Shyamalan, 2000) - Got shat on for not being the next "Sixth Sense" but this is actually a rather genius re-telling of a superhero story, and Bruce Willis gives one of his best performances in it. Great film.
3) Being There (Hal Ashby, 1979) - One of the great comedic performances of all time from the absolutely deadpan Peter Sellers, playing the savant-like Chance - who, after the death of his boss, is forced to live in the real world for the very first time. Forest Gump properly ripped this film off (to great effect, I must admit) so if you like the "idiot man-child" genre, look no further my friends.
4) The Running Man (Paul Michael Glaser, 1987) - Or, as it's now known, The Hunger Games. This was by far the best Schwarzenegger flick of the 80's and is, in my opinion a very well-done commentary on a world where entertainment reigns supreme. Also gets eerily more prophetic every time I turn on ABC and Shark Tank (or any other reality show) comes on. Plus Arnold is in top, top form.
5) White Men Can't Jump (Ron Shelton, 1992) - Features a dazzling array of Mum jokes which, frankly, kept me going through my teenage years and a riveting buddy story centered around street basketball in LA. This film is absolutely hilarious, and I defy anyone not to get involved in the action sequences. Makes me want to go out and shoot hoops immediately.
6) The King Of Comedy (Martin Scorcese, 1983) - This could take the top spot for most underrated film of all time. Go and watch it. Now. A work of genius.
7) The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974) - Coppola made this gem between making part 1 and 2 of The Godfather series, which one might be tempted to call a bit of a "hot streak". This film, about a surveillance expert who gets in too deep on his latest case, is tense, dark, and very strange. In fact it's almost a bit of an independent art-house type affair, something old Francis is definitely not usually associated with. Also, a must if you're into sound design....which I'm guessing you're not.
8) Road To Perdition (Sam Mendes, 2002) - One of the greatest gangster films ever made, this film was pretty much written off for casting all around nice guy Tom Hanks as cold-blooded assassin Michael Sullivan, however miss this film at your peril. It features Hanks in fine form, and Daniel Craig being absolutely mental and, most of all, the legendary Paul Newman giving my favourite performance of his life as the leader of the Chicago Irish Mob. The cinematography is breathtaking, as is Thomas Newman's score. Should have won every award under the sun. Didn't win shit. Annoying.
9) The Game (David Fincher, 1997) - The Fincher film that no-one ever mentions. Michael Douglas stars in this bonkers film about a corporate fat cat who signs himself up for a service that promises to give him the thrill of his life, only for his life to then completely go down the shitter. The twist at the end is worth your time alone.
10) Being John Malkovich (Spike Jonze, 1999) - Hands down one of the most certifiably insane stories ever committed to celluloid. I personally believe that anyone who aspires to one day become a screenwriter watch this film and see just what can be done when's one's imagination is left to roam free. Half the film takes place in Malkovich's head and there's even a bit where Malkovich enters his own conscience. Madness! Absolutely classic film.
There you have it folks. Netflix should be your next click.
JB.
1) Jackie Brown (Quentin Tarantino, 1997) - Everyone's least favourite Tarantino film is nothing short of brilliant. Great acting, beautifully directed and one of the best soundtracks you're likely to hear. Also, features one of the best DeNiro performances of the 1990's and the line "I hate to be the type of n*gga that do a n*gga a favour and then bam, hit the n*gga up for a favour in return, but I gots to be that type of n*gga". Marvelous.
 |
| "Go on...pull my finger" |
3) Being There (Hal Ashby, 1979) - One of the great comedic performances of all time from the absolutely deadpan Peter Sellers, playing the savant-like Chance - who, after the death of his boss, is forced to live in the real world for the very first time. Forest Gump properly ripped this film off (to great effect, I must admit) so if you like the "idiot man-child" genre, look no further my friends.
4) The Running Man (Paul Michael Glaser, 1987) - Or, as it's now known, The Hunger Games. This was by far the best Schwarzenegger flick of the 80's and is, in my opinion a very well-done commentary on a world where entertainment reigns supreme. Also gets eerily more prophetic every time I turn on ABC and Shark Tank (or any other reality show) comes on. Plus Arnold is in top, top form.
5) White Men Can't Jump (Ron Shelton, 1992) - Features a dazzling array of Mum jokes which, frankly, kept me going through my teenage years and a riveting buddy story centered around street basketball in LA. This film is absolutely hilarious, and I defy anyone not to get involved in the action sequences. Makes me want to go out and shoot hoops immediately.
 |
| "Your mother....etc." |
7) The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974) - Coppola made this gem between making part 1 and 2 of The Godfather series, which one might be tempted to call a bit of a "hot streak". This film, about a surveillance expert who gets in too deep on his latest case, is tense, dark, and very strange. In fact it's almost a bit of an independent art-house type affair, something old Francis is definitely not usually associated with. Also, a must if you're into sound design....which I'm guessing you're not.
8) Road To Perdition (Sam Mendes, 2002) - One of the greatest gangster films ever made, this film was pretty much written off for casting all around nice guy Tom Hanks as cold-blooded assassin Michael Sullivan, however miss this film at your peril. It features Hanks in fine form, and Daniel Craig being absolutely mental and, most of all, the legendary Paul Newman giving my favourite performance of his life as the leader of the Chicago Irish Mob. The cinematography is breathtaking, as is Thomas Newman's score. Should have won every award under the sun. Didn't win shit. Annoying.
9) The Game (David Fincher, 1997) - The Fincher film that no-one ever mentions. Michael Douglas stars in this bonkers film about a corporate fat cat who signs himself up for a service that promises to give him the thrill of his life, only for his life to then completely go down the shitter. The twist at the end is worth your time alone.
10) Being John Malkovich (Spike Jonze, 1999) - Hands down one of the most certifiably insane stories ever committed to celluloid. I personally believe that anyone who aspires to one day become a screenwriter watch this film and see just what can be done when's one's imagination is left to roam free. Half the film takes place in Malkovich's head and there's even a bit where Malkovich enters his own conscience. Madness! Absolutely classic film.
 |
| "Malkovich, Malkovich?" |
JB.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Behind The Curtain
Greetings one and all (or, more likely, just one). It has been a while and we have lots to catch up so cut right to the chase.
My life of leisure has come to an end, unfortunately. Meaning, to anyone who doesn't know or doesn't care to, that I have had to get a job once again. The pleasure of living off a commercial has dried up and I am back in the world of the working man. To be fair, the transition hasn't been half as painful as I feared it might be - largely due to the fact that I have a really fun job. Basically I edit reels for actors (see: mainly REALLY attractive women) which is most rewarding and has helped my editing chops no end.
More important than that though was the very recent Hollywood Film Festival which was yet another dose of absolute insanity for yours truly. It began with the screening on Sunday, which was fine. However I find it absolutely unforgivable that a cinema as prestigious as the Arclight could get away with such colossally shite projection. I'm not talking about "oh, it's a bit loud" here, either. The poor people involved with the first film in my program must've felt absolutely dreadful afterwards. Half of their entire film was off the screen - literally the lead actress was cut out of half the film. I would have thrown a major tantrum if that happened to us. Luckily it didn't. What did happen to us was that they began by having it cranked way too loud (which I was secretly loving as most films benefit from such volume), they then realised their mistake and turned it down too fucking low! This coming after there was a problem with every single film before ours. Shocking form. As if it isn't hard enough to clamber your way up the industry ladder...
I digress.
That said, I must say that seeing my film screening at my (now former) favourite cinema was an absolute treat. I felt minor nerves, if any at all, and actually managed to watch my film for the first time without an impending sense of doom coursing through my veins. Instead, as we sat there watching it unfold, I felt a tremendous sense of pride and excitement the likes of which I haven't felt before. When your film is playing in a massive darkened room full of people, it suddenly takes on a life of it's on. You can feel the atmosphere in the room. Friends, it is truly a fecking amazing thing to experience and I can't recommend it highly enough....if you're into that sort of thing. Lot's of people came and offered well wishes afterwards so all in all it went rather well, if I do say so myself. I certainly handled the whole thing a lot better so that is a victory in itself, surely?
Now, as Director of a competing film in the festival, one is privvy to certain benefits. The best one being four VIP Tickets to the next evening's Hollywood Film Awards Gala. I didn't really know what, or indeed who, to expect at this event. Indeed I didn't know what it was until some producer told me that a very rich man essentially wants to be part of "the club" so he throws an annual awards ceremony at the Beverly Hilton for celebrities to bask in their own glory one more time. From that description, I predicted a bottom-feeder Kardashian-fest and began plotting ways to spoil everyone's evening (note: all of my plans involved fecal matter)
However, when we arrived at the Hilton, nothing prepared me for what happened next. Screaming fans. Paparazzi flashes. Velvet Ropes. Red Carpets and general mania engulfed us. A proper Hollywood Event, for want of a better phrase. The peasant in me instantly thought we were in the wrong place and almost stopped the cabbie before he'd gone too far. However, to the entrance we went and, inexplicably, entrance was granted. The rest of the evening was a complete whirl of mega-famous people (including at least three absolute idols of mine...and I do mean idols), lots of free booze and generally feeling like being in an anonymous David-Blaine box with the best view to the weirdest party on earth. Sat at our reserved table, watching this mad, nonsensical award-ceremony unfold before us, I couldn't help thinking "how on earth did this happen?"...home felt a long, long way away. Still, happen it did and I am proud to say that our crew were the last to leave the venue by at least half an hour and we managed to steal multiple bottles of wine, bouquets, menus, programmes and food. Class all the way.
I've been attempting to find some meaning to this whole affair, if only to provide a conclusive paragraph to this post. Yet somehow I can't find the words. Maybe there is no meaning. Maybe sometimes you've just got to sit back and consider yourself a lucky boy to be part of the absurdity. That I do, my good people. That I do.
Peace and love.
Juan.
My life of leisure has come to an end, unfortunately. Meaning, to anyone who doesn't know or doesn't care to, that I have had to get a job once again. The pleasure of living off a commercial has dried up and I am back in the world of the working man. To be fair, the transition hasn't been half as painful as I feared it might be - largely due to the fact that I have a really fun job. Basically I edit reels for actors (see: mainly REALLY attractive women) which is most rewarding and has helped my editing chops no end.
More important than that though was the very recent Hollywood Film Festival which was yet another dose of absolute insanity for yours truly. It began with the screening on Sunday, which was fine. However I find it absolutely unforgivable that a cinema as prestigious as the Arclight could get away with such colossally shite projection. I'm not talking about "oh, it's a bit loud" here, either. The poor people involved with the first film in my program must've felt absolutely dreadful afterwards. Half of their entire film was off the screen - literally the lead actress was cut out of half the film. I would have thrown a major tantrum if that happened to us. Luckily it didn't. What did happen to us was that they began by having it cranked way too loud (which I was secretly loving as most films benefit from such volume), they then realised their mistake and turned it down too fucking low! This coming after there was a problem with every single film before ours. Shocking form. As if it isn't hard enough to clamber your way up the industry ladder...I digress.
That said, I must say that seeing my film screening at my (now former) favourite cinema was an absolute treat. I felt minor nerves, if any at all, and actually managed to watch my film for the first time without an impending sense of doom coursing through my veins. Instead, as we sat there watching it unfold, I felt a tremendous sense of pride and excitement the likes of which I haven't felt before. When your film is playing in a massive darkened room full of people, it suddenly takes on a life of it's on. You can feel the atmosphere in the room. Friends, it is truly a fecking amazing thing to experience and I can't recommend it highly enough....if you're into that sort of thing. Lot's of people came and offered well wishes afterwards so all in all it went rather well, if I do say so myself. I certainly handled the whole thing a lot better so that is a victory in itself, surely?
Now, as Director of a competing film in the festival, one is privvy to certain benefits. The best one being four VIP Tickets to the next evening's Hollywood Film Awards Gala. I didn't really know what, or indeed who, to expect at this event. Indeed I didn't know what it was until some producer told me that a very rich man essentially wants to be part of "the club" so he throws an annual awards ceremony at the Beverly Hilton for celebrities to bask in their own glory one more time. From that description, I predicted a bottom-feeder Kardashian-fest and began plotting ways to spoil everyone's evening (note: all of my plans involved fecal matter)
However, when we arrived at the Hilton, nothing prepared me for what happened next. Screaming fans. Paparazzi flashes. Velvet Ropes. Red Carpets and general mania engulfed us. A proper Hollywood Event, for want of a better phrase. The peasant in me instantly thought we were in the wrong place and almost stopped the cabbie before he'd gone too far. However, to the entrance we went and, inexplicably, entrance was granted. The rest of the evening was a complete whirl of mega-famous people (including at least three absolute idols of mine...and I do mean idols), lots of free booze and generally feeling like being in an anonymous David-Blaine box with the best view to the weirdest party on earth. Sat at our reserved table, watching this mad, nonsensical award-ceremony unfold before us, I couldn't help thinking "how on earth did this happen?"...home felt a long, long way away. Still, happen it did and I am proud to say that our crew were the last to leave the venue by at least half an hour and we managed to steal multiple bottles of wine, bouquets, menus, programmes and food. Class all the way.
I've been attempting to find some meaning to this whole affair, if only to provide a conclusive paragraph to this post. Yet somehow I can't find the words. Maybe there is no meaning. Maybe sometimes you've just got to sit back and consider yourself a lucky boy to be part of the absurdity. That I do, my good people. That I do.
Peace and love.
Juan.
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