» Fringe Blog – Writing on Film, Culture, and Things on the Fringe

Zombie Threat Rejuvenates In Merch Attacks

jelewis8 — Tue, 25 Apr 2006 00:48:43 +0000

Red State won the award for Best Sound at the Progeny Festival of Motion Pictures on Saturday, which was a surprise. If it was going to win anything, I would have predicted an editing or possibly directing award, but having not seen any of the other entries, and with my main representative having failed to attend most of the festival, I am left in the dark as to the competition. Oh well. I guess this means I can put the ubiquitous laurel parentheticals on future marketing materials.
Speaking of which, Red State is available for purchase on DVD! Only $9 (which includes shipping), this DVD features a heaping of undead special features and top notch artwork (newly updated with aforementioned laurels) packaged inside clear plastic, sleekly designed Jewelbox cases.
Interestingly enough, at the same time, I was busy being a “featured extra” in a zombie mockumentary called American Zombie. It wasn’t a memorable experience, except that afterward, I forgot to get reimbursed for parking costs. That’s five bucks I’ll probably never see again.
Check that, I just received an email confirming that if I bring my receipt in to the production office, I can get reimbursed. That’s forty-five minutes (with traffic) there, forty-five back. Gas expenditure cost: $3.25 (exaggerated estimate). Worth it? Maybe if I’m in the area. Otherwise, I might as well avoid buying a medium latte and a bagel for a day and call it even.
I’m trying to get an invitation to the MTV Movie Awards show, which will be occurring on June 3, to be aired on June 8. There’s a fairly decent chance I can get in, through my film review connections, and since it’s being held at Sony Studios next door, I won’t have to pay for parking. And that, my friends, is always a good thing.
Last week I had the good fortune of visiting Los Angeles Center Studios with Jeff Bartsch. We met one of the co-founders and head of the studio, Brian Brosnan, who expressed interest in working together on something in the future. Who knows what that might mean for us, but Jeff and I are working to get some content together and begin the process of developing some projects together. Not specifically for a partnership with the studio, but as a way to gather some key personnel together and to establish industry legitimacy on our own terms, instead of waiting for a bone throwing occurrence. We shall see how that plays out in the coming months, but it is enough to say that I am excited about the opportunities this opens up for me, not only because it is a chance for me to continue to write, but I also feel that I am slowly meeting the right people who will one day form my core group of co-conspirators.
All in all, good things are happening, and there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I received a phone interview this morning. Hopefully one of the dozen or so applications I’ve submitted will result in a well-paying position. So far, I haven’t been reduced to applying for work at the Rocco Club for Women’s Typewriter Maintenance Shop. If it does go down like that, you know I’ll be drinking another double and moaning about how much I regret not learning all of Selectric’s options.
Got some new links up on the sidebar. Check out Hot Air, Michelle Malkin’s new Internet television venture. I’ve applied to be a producer for them, though that’s unlikely to happen. Even so, check it out. And I will see you tomorrow.

Roving Update

jelewis8 — Fri, 15 Jul 2005 19:56:48 +0000

When you spend two of your worst days attempting to convince wildly anti-Rove detractors that maybe, perhaps, with a bit of moderation perchance, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions about the guilt of the aforementioned vampiric deputy chief of staff, whose nightly visits to the press have revealed two puncture marks in the neck of the White House, shaped like Valerie Plame and Joe Wilson, you tend to get a little nutty. I do, at any rate. It’s astonishing how easily I get caught up in these ill-advised debates. One minute I’m advocating a “wait and see” policy, at least until Special Prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald emerges from the bathroom to present the evidence that Rove really is the two-headed minion of a demon understudy named Billy Twanga, the next I’m arguing whether the Niger yellowcake story has any merit (it does–I’ve read the Niger report cover to cocyx). Before long, I’ve spent the better part of an hour researching the definition of “covert agent” and the specifics of the Intelligence Identities Protection Act–not that it does any good, since I’m arguing against someone who wins his debates by calling people names. Ten year olds aren’t this cute.
Eventually, you just have to end it, even knowing you’ll be accused of “running away”. I realized something though. What does it matter? They’re on the other side of the globe. As we know from Patriot Games, only extremist Irish sociopaths hunt down and kill those who piss them off. I think this one guy is from Australia, or New Zealand.
I’m on Day 4 of the infection, which will probably have people in droves suggesting I visit the doctor. I’m here to quell that little piece of advice. No. I have to admit to feeling a little like a walking science lab these past few days. My body has produced an inordinate amount of substances that would easily find a home on a slide or in a petri dish, and probably could be used to seed a distant planet for the growth of new life forms. I don’t know. It makes me realize just how gross things inside really are. Could I handle watching an operation, or an autopsy? I doubt it.
According to the calendar, I’m a mere 24 days away from turning a quarter of a decade old. I will be celebrating in Las Vegas, of course. Of course. There are few places in the country where debauchery and financial stupidity combine with wholesome family fun, but Vegas is remarkably cool about the whole arrangement. The minute you hit the Strip, there’s a sense that everyone’s not quite sure how they should act. And with the glitter, the lights, and the Bellagio fountain spectacular, it’s a clever arrangement, designed to disguise the fact that pornographic pamphlets float, wind-blown, down the street in reams. Sex sells, but it’s never quite as much fun when its being hawked by 15-year-old Hispanic boys. Regardless, Vegas is a town worth visiting at least twice in your life. Once, to get that visceral thrill, twice to realize how hollow it all is. Fun, but hollow.
And then it’s Push On to Los Angeles.
Can anyone tell me why Angeles spells its Los with an ‘o’, whilst Vegas spells its with an ‘a’? Is it a feminine-masculine thing? Just wondering. It’s something that’s bugged me for a long time, and I don’t feel like googling it.
I’ll be posting a review of Layer Cake later this afternoon. Not that it really matters at this late date. But you know me. Anything to substitute for a meaningful post.