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I suppose that in the end, someone has to review movies, I just wish that it could stop being Mick LaSalle. It says a lot about a movie critic when he can't even use his real name when reviewing films for fear of death threats. On some level I know that he gets off on people thinking he's an ass and I wouldn't even be wasting the space to talk about it except that web blogs are cheap and this is taking up about 10 minutes of an otherwise lazy evening to write. Also, someday, I hope that the Chronicle will just give him the boot. They have a great many other reviewers that while I may not agree with them all the time, don't insult me as a reader. And it's this point that brings me to his latest "genius" opine:       Agnosticism has killed the horror genre in the United States. Take away the afterlife, take away a belief in the spirit world, and horror becomes about nothing but the fear of death and stories about sadism.       Those are the opening lines to his review for The Orphanage. What the hell is that? Just tell me if it's a good film. It's his bungled, misplaced attempts at an intellectual diatribe in his reviews that drive me crazy. You wouldn't see Michael Bauer (whom I also hate because I love) writing about the philosophy behind the steak that he's eating. In my book, food is just as much an art form as a movie, yet someone LaSalle keeps getting away with this.       He had been rather quiet for awhile and I had hoped the Chron had silently done away with him, but then no, up he pops like that smartass kid in school who keeps mouthing off at you while you dunk his head in the toilet. Someday, somehow, he will stop reviewing and that will be a joyous day for cinema the world over. It really is uncanny how he has the same annoying smirk that Jeff Bezos has.

A little while back, I had one of those realization, bright light over the head, moments of just how different we all are. It was at a contract gig I had for a little bit for a dot-com that was pre-IPO. I was merely doing web development for them and so I came in, did my thing and went home. The downside was that I of course got no benefits, nor did I get any shares in the company. But, when I saw that most folks there put in 10-12 hour days or even more, I realized that I just did not want to do that. I did it in the whole Web 1.0 craze and it was for nothing. I still have to work like most folks, and to be honest, the youthful, early-twenties stupidity that was driving all that has long been tempered by quasi-Buddhist pondering on the whole nature of, just what is a career?       This is of course all well and good. Of my friends and even those who aren't friends, a great majority have thought about things like this from time to time. What happened to make this a bit different was the fact that at one point, some high up fellow in the company was walking by the spot where I did my thing and said, "Yeah, keep driving profit like that and it'll make our options go through the roof."       That pretty much clinched it for me. Despite the fact that this all didn't work for most people the first time around, here were a group trying it again. Maybe it will work for them down the road, maybe not. Maybe they'll all just be working like crazy indefinitely and maybe the company will disappear overnight as what happened to another place I was contracting for. All I know is that in the end of it, while I may not be part of the millions that they might possibly get (and really, it's just the upper 5% of management that seem to score that), I'll only have worked eight hour days, paid my bills and ultimately have been a lot happier.       I'm just different than all this I guess. The promise of riches means nothing to me. If I'm busting my ass for something, that means I'm interested in it and not just because of monetary compensation. Just look at my film (yeah, I know, I said no more, but hey, it was cool...) That gave me a splitting headache for two weeks, costs me a dump of money, and took up massive amounts of time. But guess what? I loved it. I loved each and every minute of it. I guess this is the double-edged curse of having artists for parents. You're happier than most people in the long run, but you're never really rich. Of course, I'd never have it any other way.

For the last two weekends, I've gotten up much, much earlier than I really would have ever wanted to. The weekend previous to last was to get up for my film shoot I won't stop talking about. This last weekend was to go to a friend's wedding which I had an onerous time of reaching due to renting a car and a whole bunch of other zaniness.       Despite the overall busy strife and pace that both days set before me, I realized something I had forgotten about; San Francisco is very peaceful in the early Sunday morning. You get the feeling that minus a couple of dog walkers and early morning joggers, the city is yours. There's something nice in that, as this is a very beautiful city that I enjoy having to myself at times. And if the fog has rolled in overnight, sometimes you get this moment just as the sun is lifting and burning it away that makes you pause and breath in the damp air before it vanishes to make way for the day.       The catch in all of this is of course getting up early on a Sunday. Some might be thinking that you can get up early anytime of the week and see this. Not so unfortunately. There are folks going to work quite early around here and it seems that Sunday is the only day where everyone really takes their day of rest and if you're lucky, you'll get that space between the long breaths of this urban land.

Man, it's like some grand twister of fate out there goes, "Hey, this one's kinda busy, let's dump some more on him." and the next thing you know you're just trying to stay afloat with everything going on.       This is a pretty lame post, but I just felt like I should put it up and assure the public at large that Flamenco_Singer shots are on the way (that page is being updated as well.) I've just been too busy earning money to pay off the film shoot to really get to them. What's up with this money thing anyways? It's just like so annoying and all that. Life needs to be free.

Seriously, when does it go from something moldy that you can eat to something moldy that you can't eat? This was the question facing me as I looked down on a good chunk of it I've kept around since my little wine party a week and a half ago. Regardless, I did end up eating it, since it's soooo good.       I don't really know that there is an answer though. I suppose when you can sit down and have a conversation with it, that might not be a good time to eat a chunk of blue cheese. Other than that, I suppose... enjoy?