Avatar; Max's review

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

May contain spoilers!

In two words, the thing was darn good. Given that the original thought processes for the film first came about about 14 years ago it could hardly have been an epic flop. Being headed by James Cameron is always a plus, and the $310m budget probably helped it along too. I had the pleasure also of seeing it in 3d at the IMAX cinema (for the clarity of those not in the know, IMAX is a cinema with a screen the height of a 9-storey building; lots of people have just gazed at me blankly when I've mentioned it in the past). The combination of a world that stretches into your peripheral vision with lots of flying 3d things at 10 in the morning is possibly the worst hangover cure in existence. Its a credit to the film that I still enjoyed it so much.



The plot: The year is 2154 and humans are building a heavily armed mining colony on a planet called Pandora, presumably lightyears away. They face resistance from the humanoid natives, the Navi, who are the blue guys from the trailers and posters. The story follows Jake Sully, who's name for me is sadly still synonymous with the big blue guy from Monsters, Inc, which can be offputting at times. He's a paraplegic ex-marine who takes the place of his dead twin brother on the Avatar programme, which places a human mind into a Navi body, allowing them to make contact with the natives and try and win hearts and minds. Unfortunately for the humans, Sully goes rogue after being rescued by a native called Neytiri, and he goes under her wing to learn the ways of the natives, in kind of neo-Tarzan-and-Jane-esque sequences that were one of my only very minor criticisms. She is also weirdly attractive given that she's effectively a combination of Pocahontas and Jar Jar Binks.

On the left, for sexually ambiguous clarification

That's a pretty major point actually. Nothing in the trailers gave away the fact that the Navi are much, much bigger than the humans, yet again tall and ridiculously skinny to the point of appearing anorexic occasionally. Why are we still glorifying aliens who are tall and skinny; the plotline could have had a huge amount of comedy value added if they were a race of short, fat lumbering things. They'll probably make it onto the cover of Vanity Fair with their current appearance. So they're the good guys. The bad guys are first and foremost the humans; more specifically, the military, whose believeable portrayal ought to have a few resounding effects among military circles. The soldiers are led by the batshit crazy Colonel Quaritch, who looks and acts like a psychotic GI Joe doll, and the twattish bureaucratic corporation leader played brilliantly by Giovanni Ribisi, who was such a villainous bastard that you just want to slam his head into a desk over and over.

Gunships and floating mountains. Sweet.

The final third of the film is taken up pretty much entirely by a single action sequence, much like District 9, except with less fookin' prawns and more dragony creatures. The big mech suits are still there though. Ultimately, the whole thing is very effective; not only is it a great finishing sequence, but you don't find yourself wondering when the hell its going to end. Everything that appeared previously in the film - vehicles, plants, animals- all come out and display their wondrous capabilities. The latter 2 are cool because they seem carefully considered - nothing feels weird for weirds sake, like the Star Wars cantina. Being James Cameron, theres inevitably forbidden love, but not even that bothered me, because this time around its weird and beautiful - its not dictated by time difference like in Terminator, or by class like Titanic. Its inter-dimensional love and it makes you fuzzy inside.



Its well worth seeing. The posters may look like a live action Ferngully, but its actually very, very good. Get down to your nearest IMAX.

Recent Terrorism

Because you're mine,

I walk the Line ..

It struck me recently how international terrorism is going down the tubes since the 9/11, bar the London bombings. I say this in light of the failed bombing of the Amsterdam-Detroit flight on Christmas day, by some Nigerian bloke, who also happens to be the son of some major Nigerian banking figure; probably the one who keeps emailing me for my sort code and PIN number so my money can be more secure. This guy seems to be the latest of these Al-Qaeda wannabes - we started out with a bunch of hardline Islamists, preaching in the name of Allah, gradually descending into people seemingly just jumping on the 'blowing stuff the fuck up' bandwagon.

Yeah! Jihad and hijacking and .. stuff .. Allahu Akbar?

The difference is, the amateurs are shit. There were those 2 blokes with the jeep and the butane can and their miserable attempt to bomb Glasgow airport, ultimately ending up being beaten up by the Scots while on fire, followed by the story of the poor sod who walked into a coffee shop in England somewhere (was it Guildford? I forget), went into the toilet to prepare his nail bomb .. and then accidentally shredded his leg with it. Ha. And now there's this guy, explosives cunningly stitched into his underpants by someone from the Al-Qaeda tailoring department in Yemen, who was beaten down by passengers and crew, much like that guy with the shoe bomb a few years back. You've lost your touch boys. Let's keep it that way.

Post-christmas euphoria

Hast du Etwas Zeit fur mich?
Dann singe ich ein Lied fur dich
Von 99 Luftballons,
Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizant ..

It's been a while since I updated this, and have recently been facing criticism on many fronts concerning my poor punctuality. Thus, this entry will try and encapsulate the major things that are/have been going on that you've had the misfortune of missing. This blog also has PICTURES. That's one for you, Daniel; I shan't be outdone on the internet.

As you can see the mood is appropriately German after my short break in Berlin, a trip that can only have affected my liver, kidneys and cholesterol levels over my language skills. The thing to say first and foremost is that it was FUCKING AWESOME. The whole mini-holiday can only have been heightened by the distinct lack of being searched at every public building, airport, and train station that we went into; vast improvements from Russia 2008. Apparently I no longer have that "Chechen Rebel" look that I was described as having a year ago. So - heres a mini breakdown of 4 days with the Germans.

It should be noted at this point that it was ruddy freezing the whole week, though inevitably the snow only really kicked in once it was too late to really appreciate. Some of us still enjoyed it when it first started though. Well done, Kellie. Well done indeed.


Its also worth me passing on an important piece of advice that I failed to heed this time round - no matter how many pairs of socks you're wearing, do not wear converse in the snow. Jazz, I'm sorry mate. You even texted me to tell me that. I'm sorry I didn't listen.

It seems the Germans have come across ingenious ways of doing food, ones that seem to take conventional European light snacks and say "fuck that, lets try it this way". Ladies and gents, I give you the coveted Bratwurst. Like a hotdog, but epic and half a foot long. Damn I miss those things. The other culinary wonder was deep fried potato, in a pancake shape .. with sugar? It sounds weird, but they were oh so tasty. I forget what the Germans call them.

One of the more general things that struck me was the similarity between Berlin and St. Petersburg and Moscow. Us being in East Berlin, crappy former communist haven of the Gods, a lot of the architecture was very similar. The main difference was that it had the vibrancy of a city like London, which makes for a strange combination, a very subtle contrast of European dynamism in depressing Commie surroundings. Having said that, some places we went look like the shit bits of Huddersfield or Wakefield except with more tram lines.

See, its a very very nice place.

The photos show a gradual change from 'British students on cultural journey around Berlin' to 'generic group of British tourists'.

Us storming the Bahnhof at Alexanderplatz. Note Dora (right) failing at the "East side" hand gesture and looking more like a mong than anything else.

Undoubtedly one of the coolest parts was the East side gallery; a preserved part of the Berlin wall where all the old artwork has been repainted. Its a fantastic thing to see.

The wall stretches away on the left hand side.

One of the crapper aspects of the trip was the journey back. It took the Germans 2 hours to realise that lots of snow makes a plane all icy and unflyable and shit. So we waited another half an hour to taxi about and be de-iced, and played 20 questions with a south african bloke, which was nice. The flight was spent mainly avoiding Pippa and Dora flailing, before we got woken up by earache coming to land at Stansted. Stansted reminded us of the reasons that Ryanair is cheap; it seems you don't get one of those fancy extending tunnels going from the door of the plane into the terminal. No, you taxi to about 100 metres from the terminal entrance, so we had to run through the sideways flying snow, past those diddy little trucks that carry all your luggage into passport control, flanked as ever by a pair of psychotic bastards with the rifles. There would be another picture, but experience has taught me that men with guns don't like this.

The return from Berlin heralded the return to long hours at work, where the hours are long and the tips can be shit. Christmas Eve was one of the most balls nights of the year. We worked flat to the boards, the place absolutely rammed for 6 hours and we had £3.50 in tips to show for it at the end. Having said that, most pints are in excess of £3 themselves, so a tip on top of a round of drinks at the Woodman Inn would probably put you out of pocket for the next 6 months. The monetary problems will no doubt be rectified with hours of Modern Warfare 2 or Nazi Zombies, geek that I can be, as they are the most frustrating and fun filled hours outside being back in Leeds without uni. Speaking of which, I have impending exams which I really ought to be working towards.

No resolution for crap .

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing,
Roman cavalry choirs are singing,
Be my mirror, my sword, my shield,
My missionaries in a foreign field ..

Fuck bureaucracy.

It seems new developments are afoot in the ongoing saga of Max's financial crusades. We've already established the current money situation, or lack thereof, and yesterday provided another kick in the teeth for the whole situation. It seems that Leeds University require a £25 fee for not being able to take my tuition payment on the day that they'd have liked. "Why was the money not in your account on said day?", I hear you cry! Because it wasn't ready, was it Leeds? Remember, like I told you it wouldn't be? When I trecked down to and navigated the E.C.Stoner building, labyrinthine hellhole of the Gods, to find your office and tell you that my money would be unavailable on this date? Did this slip your mind? You bastards.

So now I'm forking out another weeks worth of money, which will probably end up in the pocket of the pencilpushers who drafted the scattershot money rules. Another condition of the first rule is that if I don't pay the original £25 fee, I get charged the same amount again. I've spent last night and today thinking about how I can turn this completely negative situation into something that slightly less resembles anal rape, but no luck as of yet. Open to suggestion. Email me.

Christmas is also steadily approaching, or has already arrived if you're unlucky enough to live in one of those places that sells christmas cards from mid-September onwards. Another ceremony to the plastic machinations of our consumer economy, which continues its spiralling journey downward ever more. God bless the ravenous devouring of unabashed shit and marked-down prices on plastic stuff that cost pennies, if not less, to make and import. So, will we all get what we asked for? Crappy miscellanea, that will blink and serve standalone functions, all of which perform at lesser quality than a multiple function item of the same purpose? I try my best not to be "Ebenezer Martin", in the words of a great friend, during this time. Maybe its just the money situation, or the fact that the weather is shite, or that there's yet more German to do. Modern Warfare 2, never have you looked so tempting as you do now.

I have another lecture at 4.00. Thankfully not more German, but my policing module. Interesting stuff, I'll tell you about it one day. One day.

The real issue

Quando sono sola
sogno all'orizzonte
e mancan le parole,
si lo so che non c'è luce
in una stanza quando manca il sole,
se non ci sei tu con me, con me ..

Recently I've been waking up and going to bed nearly every night wondering, "What if I'm making an academic mistake that will cost me £3000+ per semester? This follows on to "What if this is my rational foresight kicking in that I've since masked due to bravado and pride that was falsely created when I was deemed 'special' by means of selection?"

Could it be that my non-emotional side, free of the shackles created by the subtle and overt feeling that's accompanied me every time "further education" is mentioned, has spotted the obvious on the horizon and thus begun slipping in the warning bells, the worrying and second guessing? I've always been aware of the expense issues, and have long since ambled away from the monetary concerns, but now some of these things are back, reverberating within my mind. The really worrying fact is that the good old counterpoints to the financial clusterfuck that tuition/housing presents aren't really cooing me to acceptance any longer.

"But are they not paying the majority of the lions share?"

Theoretically yes, but unfortunately it's a massive fuck-off carcass on which the lion dines. Additionally, a happy sizable portion of monies is no longer checked off and taken care of, for one simple (or more accurately, non-existent) reason - no student loan this year. I am unable to "go to plan B" as Captain Mactavish would say. The black and white perspective paints the most accurate portrait available: for 3 years of education and boarding, it will cost me about an entire years worth of earnings that a family of 5 at the poverty line earns. Worry and self doubt swells within me like a rampant venereal disease.

I also fork out £62 tomorrow for the last payment of my christmas trip, a payment frequently and confusingly referred to as a "deposit" by my high-flying housemates. The irony being that we will never, ever get it back. Our trip is to Berlin, a journey that will finally take my Western-Europe virginity, and doubtlessly have another adverse effect on my liver and cholesterol levels. Will the trip turn into the cultural and 'educational' experience that so many have tried to disguise it as, or descend, as pondered, into bratwurst-fuelled debauchery? We shall see.

Argh fuck

Psychic spies from China
Try to steal your minds elation,
Little girls from Sweden
Dream of silver screen quotations ..

Our toilet and shower are on the fritz. The shower is sitting in 3 inches of water, with cloudy black and brown crap seeping out of the plughole. The toilet bowl looks like a vapourised poo factory. We now have one shower and toilet between 8 of us, which is going to make for happy times when we all fight over it. I've binned two towels eliminating the water that keeps leaking out of the pipes.

At the risk of sounding closed minded, I don't like Twilight. Too many people I know went along to the midnight screenings of New Moon for my liking. I recently read the plot(s) for the first time, and some extracts from it, to try and get an idea of what the hell all the hype's about. There is some godawful crap in there.

"Even more, I had never meant to love him. One thing I truly knew - knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the centre of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it in my empty chest - was how love gave someone the power to break you. I'd been broken beyond repair." - from New Moon

Seriously?

Twilight: New Moon - One girl's choice between Necrophilia and Bestiality.

Could this be another literary revolution? The beginning of a beautiful partnership between sun-fearing creatures of legend and the moronic whims of high school girls? Quite possibly - but wait. These are unconventional vampires. They go out in the daytime, they drink from animals and garlic and crosses mean fuck all. Is this where are the interest stems from? A quote on the subject of the Twilight vampires:- "Some vampires have no special abilities, and instead have a prominent personality or physical trait from their human life magnified." What does that encapsulate? Bipolar disorder? The ability to solve rubix cubes quickly?

We've all seen the hordes of screaming teens and their long-suffering mothers whenever Robert Pattinson makes an appearance - a new age freak show, where a delusional crowd flails for their Edward. Having taken a gander at the deep 'subject matter', I can only wonder why. "AAAAH" They write in their diaries, "WHY CAN'T I HAVE A BOYFRIEND LIKE EDWARD?". Ah, maturity.

In non vampire-related news, Modern Warfare 2 is amazingly amazing, if a little disturbing occasionally. Incredibly realistic in the sense that the Russians are killing everyone and everything, the Americans kill the Brits, the Brits are single handedly saving the world, and the French are nowehere to be seen. If you haven't bought it yet, then try and pawn your Twilight tickets on eBay and save up for the game. Chasing Russians on snowmobiles is more fun than chasing the love of a fictional vampire.

Whoops

And if she asks you why,
You can tell her that I told you,
that I'm tired of Castles in the Air ..

I've started seeing more of these handy 'suggestions' for want of a better word, in the top left corner of facebook, encouraging one to 'reconnect' with those I have no desire to be reconnected with. What's its goal? To help you seek out people you couldn't be arsed to keep up with in the first place?

Its November (No, its not christmas yet dearies) which heralds the arrival of the German Kristkindelmarkt in Millenium Square, which a few of my housemates are off to. If the past 2 days and nights hadn't already been filled with more German than you could shake a stick at, I'd be well up for the idea of walking around in the cold of a city centre to look at frankfurters and giant pretzels in their quaint flat-packable stalls. I fear that yet more exposure to German culture in its most distilled form could induce some unconditional Tim-Kretschmer-esque spree, and that might put a strain on my close relations.

I went to a screening of a German film this evening for one of my modules; rather, I went along and slept through 70% of it. Theres a faint biro outline of a cock on my forehead, apparently Max sleeping was a chance that just couldn't be passed up. The film was 'Der Blaue Engel', the film that apparently boosted Marlene Dietrich to global stardom overnight. I tried really hard to appreciate it in the first 20 minutes I was awake for, but couldn't. If you ever have trouble sleeping, tune in to german radio. Its the most sleep-inducing language I've come across.


The brunt of the German work seems to finally be coming to some sort of conclusive end, after a 53 hour-straight work bender. There are still things outstanding, but I have no choice but to sweep them under the rug. Sadly, the oustanding things include grammar, a subject which I've been severely lacking in since post GCSE-euphoria. If only I could inspire myself to learn it.

I feel a bit bad, having devoted so much time to mouthing off about it and then dropping it all of a sudden, but such is life. All things are transient, and so we too must be, lest we become stagnant.

Hence my current hairstyle, which should come to fruition soon.

Pastures new

If I told you things I did before,
told you how I used to be,
Would you go along with someone like me ..?

So, a new blog.

If we're lucky, this one will reach the magnitude of my old myspace one.

Starting a new blog is an idea that was suggested to me by a few people a couple of months back, but it's taken me a while to actually grasp the initiative and start doing it. I guess the main reason for this is the transition from '4 months of nothing' to '2nd year of language degree course', a change that I'm still only getting used to. The second very good reason is that I forgot. The latter reason works for numerous handy things, such as not doing important seminar work and missing out that oh so boring social event that you're expected to go to out of politeness.

I didn't actually plan on kicking off an opening entry with any kind of 'post' as such, but I've spent so much time faffing about over it it seems stupid to leave it just floating in the ether now. That and it's just gone 5am. I have a lecture at 10. Sleep is not an option.

I have a strange inkling that these sleepless work benders are going to become more and more common as the year heads on. I've just finished an essay on globalisation, a topic that quite frankly can find a hole and drown in it. The fact that it was in German hardly helped the general feelings towards it. That has to be submitted tomorrow, god help me if the printers go on one of their 'lets fuck up at the most inconvenient time humanely possible' rampages.

A final item worthy of ironic mention is the stuff thats popping up on and around my facebook page. Not only are there now sexy singles in the Leeds area, I also have 3 friend requests. It seems I've either become insanely attractive to 20-something American women, or I'm being spammed. Me being a scruffy waste of face, i'm settling for the latter. And theres also one of the most wonderful updates I've seen in a while, so without mentioning any names: "[insert name here] feels like shite so im gunna get in bed n watch a nice dvd after iv had a wee." If you're reading this, you know who you are. You make me sob.