No Commercial Potential: Now that I'm saved, I wish I was damned.

Things about Stuff (Also: Stuff about Things)11 July 2007

My God. It’s full of iPhones.

On this point I tend to agree. Just below my desire to own a little black slab of sexy of my very own after June 29th, was my desire to stop hearing local news reports about said slab, and especially all the internet noise about it. But people seem fairly determined to continue to hammer this into the ground. But now the triumphalism is giving way to the too-cool-for-school anti-iPhone backlash. Which was inevitable, of course. So any of you out there who want to be this stratospheric kind of cool are welcome to it. I will continue to love my iPhone and below I will offer some reasons why it is better than a four-door banana split with crack sprinkles made by Jesus:

1. I was out with Brenda and it became necessary (yes, necessary I tell you) to know if Endless Love was made before or after The Blue Lagoon. Rather than trying to remember to look this up later I was able to settle the entire issue on the spot because the Safari browser is able to correctly render the code abomination that is IMDB. (Pardon me getting nerdier-than-thou, IMDB, but have you ever heard of a DOCTYPE?) I’m sure you can see that the potential for settling bar bets is staggering.
2. Similarly, at an actual bar, rather than being forced to explain The Big Lebowski – Fucking Short Version I could just show it to the interested parties. This is progress, dammit!
3. I can expect a call, and have my headphones on without worrying about missing it. And the ‘bring down the music, pick up the call, end the call, bring up the music’ works just lovely.
4. I have a cell phone camera I’m actually interested in using again. And I don’t give a damn that it doesn’t have a flash. Who needs a flash on their phone? If you need a flash or a zoom, get a real camera. But if you need to make a lolcat or record the sunflowers eating your back yard the iPhone camera is just perfect.
5. These wallpapers.

Five Word Review of ‘Ratatouille’

Go see it. Now. Run.

Slightly More Elaborate Thoughts on ‘Ratatouille’.

Like my pocket monolith, it is so nice that Brad Bird is perfectly capable to living up to any billing however lofty. And ‘The Incredibles’ was a high bar to be faced with, no question. Pixar has developed such unbelieveable skill in rendering every conceivable detail in a scene… well just goddamn is all I can really say. I could happily watch it without sound just to look at detail of absolutely everything. Just the different ways they can render hair: human hair, rat fur, wet hair, wet rat fur, scorched rat fur… and the water, and the pavement, and the sheen on fancy cheese, and tears in the foil on the neck of a bottle of wine for fuck sake. Just bloody amazing.

And none of that detail comes at the expense of also telling an interesting, funny story. Brad Bird makes bringing it all together seem so effortless. I am already in line for whatever his next movie is.

(On the flip side of my gob-smacked wonder, of course, is me sitting in the theater thinking ‘I will never make anything even a fraction this good. Kill me.’)

Elsewise

Did you hear that The Decemberists are playing a free concert in Millennium Park complete with orchestral accompaniment next Wednesday? Well it’s not true. No sir. Don’t waste your time going down there because nothing’s happening. It’s a dastardly lie. And even if they were going to be there, they’ll only play Eagles covers. Stay away. Because I don’t want to be stuck at the ass-end of the lawn, goddammit.

Although the weather today is pleasant to the point that I am wondering why I am inside looking at a computer just now, over the weekend Chicago was Satan’s chafing dish. Which finally pushed me over the edge to install my bedroom air conditioner unit. However the little accordion-extender-bits which occlude the part of the window not occluded by the actual unit itself sort of fell apart in my hands. So I have stopped up the extra window space with some very neat and festive cardboard covered in blue recycling bags and transparent duct tape of which I am inordinately proud. But it doesn’t mean I don’t still want to move to Iceland until October or so.

Bishop Allen has a new record out. If you order the CD, you get a digital download immediately. I did. Even though my scofflaw ex-roommate already stole it off some torrent for me. I would buy it twice more if necessary. And the download comes with artwork for each song. You must love Bishop Allen. Yes. You.

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