We definitely don't use the prefix "giganto-" enough

Semester ends in a week and I can't force myself to buckle down and get these last few assignments DONE. Good lord, it's ridiculous.

Orange is coming along. It's slow going, because I've just got all this shit I have to wade through, but soon enough I'll be sending my stuff along to Alex so we can get this show on the road.

Inspiration strikes: I've started hanging around with someone from Agents, someone who dresses like a 19th century middle-class gentleman, top hat and all. His real-life actions brought to mind an amazing scene for Lord Thaddeus Stillwater. It'll be great.

Dec. 22 approaches; I grow mildly apprehensive as Alex grows calmer. Are we, perhaps, inversely proportional?

While velociraptors were a disappointment, I was recently informed that there existed a relative of the little guys who stood 12 feet tall known as Gigantoraptor. That made my day like you wouldn't believe.

I've fallen into the trap again of perpetuating the geek stereotype on myself. Yes, it's probably the category I fit into best, but I definitely can't be considered a full-blown geek. I tried joining the video game club here, but I was intimidated by the superior geekiness of everyone there. I think that's a good enough indicator that I may be able to interact somewhat normally with society. That is, assuming I can stop sitting people down and making them listen to the "All Your Base" meme, and speaking in LOLcats. At least I managed to shake the smart kid attitude, for the most part.

Does Occam's Razor apply to religion? It kind of makes sense that it would, in an idealistic kind of way. That'd be really nice.

Cruisin' Mos Espa in my Delorean

I WANT TO LEARN THE LYRICS TO "FETT'S VETTE" IN THEIR ENTIRETY LIKE I HAVE WANTED LITTLE ELSE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.

I'm a devious degenerate
Defender of the devil
Shut down all the trash compactors
On the detention level

I love how I keep expecting my homework to do itself. One of these days, maybe.

And now for something...

My roommate and I have very different sleep schedules (he's almost always in bed by 12, it's nearly 1:30 and I still have a good deal of work to do). Normally it's fine, because I'm quiet as I do my thing- went out and bought headphones and everything. Only right now I'm having a sneezing fit, and they are becoming increasingly explosive. I may have to evacuate my room, lest he kill me when I finally fall asleep.

Ever notice how sometimes every song ever seems to apply to you? I'm not generally real fussy about lyrics, but sometimes it gets eerie. Is there some psych term for twisting things around so it seems like it applies perfectly when it's actually all in your head? Probably.

I learned recently that velociraptors were only 2 feet tall. You have no idea how bummed out I was. Also: as cool as it is that dinosaurs may have evolved into birds, I've come to the realization that feathered dinosaurs look mad stupid, yo. I want Jurassic Park, dammit.

Orange for William is not moving along...my bad. Once I finish once and for all with Bohr, E. Coli strain 0157:H7, and Terry Eagleton, I really want to get back to it. I revisited the introduction this evening and loved it so much that I was ready to jump back into writing mode, if there wasn't 35% of my grade hanging over my head. Gross. Anyway, soon, hopefully. MARMALADE!

Happy birthday to Bill Nye the Science Guy! Woohoo!

I'm going for my masters in Velociraptorology

As nice as Physics is, it's a tough subject to be passionate about. I wouldn't really say that I am. Some people say you won't really be happy in life unless you do something you truly love, something that really speaks to you (thought: if that's the case, why do so many artists/writers commit suicide?). Unfortunately for me, that's not likely to happen, since the only thing I could find myself getting THAT excited about are velociraptors.

If, in the next 2 years, they were to discover a way to clone dinosaurs a la Jurassic Park (topic for discussion: Crichton or Spielberg? I choose the latter), I would instantly swap to a double-major in animal science and archeology. Don;t even tell me that wouldn't be the coolest thing in the world, raising and studying velociraptors. C'mon.

Even writing, which I consider to be one of my more passionate interests, pales in comparison to the awesome that is the raptor. My second passion is science fiction, and while it obviously ties in with the subject matter, it could still not trump a true blue velociraptor.

But I just admitted that I do have things I am passionate about, and while they don't measure up to velociraptors (nothing, perhaps not even True Love, can do that), they could be better than something like physics. While this is certainly true, and I would love to write science fiction above all else, English classes suck; I'm pretty sure that upwards of 80% of all the material they give you is bullshit. It's kind of like majoring in Art (not art history, just art): if you can do it, you can, and if you can't, you're screwed anyway. You can take classes on how to construct and organize a novel or something, but the majority of what you need kind of has to be there from the start. The moral of this story: no way in hell would I ever major in English, despite what I may have written in the yearbook.

So if anything, I would pull an Asimov: get all the science training (only in physics instead of chemistry), then screw it all and go write scifi instead. I think, subconsciously, that's what I've been planning to for a while. Whether I'll have the balls not to actually embrace the scientific community when the time comes is something else entirely.

In the meantime, I'm just going to hope that they discover how to clone dinosaurs. It'd make everything a whole lot easier.

Who run Barter Town?

I think this is a clear sign that I watch/play/read way too much post-apocalyptic stuff.

My current situation:

• Mad Max 3 on the TV


• Laptop on, Firefox up:
  
  • Tab 1
  
  
  • Tab 2
  
  
  • Tab 3
  
  
  • Tab 4

The reason I'm going all-out right now is something my Chemistry teacher mentioned in a lecture. He seems particularly concerned about the impending gas crisis: not the rise in prices, but the inevitable complete usage of all the world's oil. Apparently according to some study he read, the whole planet will peak around 2030, meaning it's all downhill from there. The responsible thing to think, of course, is that we have to do something about that, and soon. A new source of alternate power, or some short-term solution like more efficient engines that can keep us going until we develop one.

Of course, my first reaction was instead to do a quick calculation and think "okay, I should be about 40. Not too old to survive in the post-apocalyptic wasteland."

I'm not completely deluded. I realize that if we were to pull a Mad Max (Road Warrior: no gas, everything comes crashing down) it would seriously suck. Not to mention the threat of nuclear war: who's to say anyone would survive with all the destructive crap we've got sitting around? Given the unlikelihood of anyone living, my personal chances for survival are minuscule. Take into consideration, then, my odds of living in a Darwinian environment: somehow I don't think I'm well-enough adapted to compete for my right to survive. An obviously it's ridiculous I'm humoring this whole apocalypse idea at all.

Still, think about it. I have no big plans for my future. There's nothing I'm particularly looking forward to. Physics is cool, but I don't like even thinking about getting a job in the field. Is it so hard to imagine that someone in that situation romanticizes something really big coming along (e.g. apocalypse) and forces a purpose on him?

I should, uh, probably fix that. You know your priorities need a little shifting around when you find yourself thinking a little apocalypse along the road of your life would be neat.

But really, read that webcomic I linked to up above. Pretty fan-fucking-tastic.

Damn physics

So how about I spent so much time studying for my physics exam and working my physics homework out to perfection that I am now behind in everything else, and it's just gummed everything up entirely? HOW ABOUT IT, man?!

Seriously, plan for tomorrow (since chem lab got canceled) is to clear up this genomics business, write this damn english paper, and get down and dirty with Orange. I need to get a lot of writing done before Alex and I lock ourselves in a room and get high off the oxygen deprivation. It will be the most productive night ever, and you will all marvel in the glory of our final product. The judgment day is approaching...the point where we either realize our own genius, or realize what sad, deluded children we are. Best get crackin.

I realized that I never listen to the radio anymore. The only time I really did at home was when I was driving (which was a substantial chunk of the day, bear in mind), so it feels weird to actually sit down in front of Lappy 2.0 and listen to The Rock 106.9 streaming live, when I already have a playlist of my all-time favorites waiting for me. Who knows what wonderful new jams I may be missing out on?

Tangentially, my brother got into an accident the other day (totally not his fault) and while the other car was pretty much totaled, the Beast was more or less unharmed. Makes my heart burst with pride, it does. Anyway, we got money from the offender's insurance company because of the tiny dent the Beast suffered. It's a testament to the bestial-ness (note that I did not say bestiality) of this vehicle, though, and minor compared to, say, the mark of the hit-and-run of last year, so it's staying, and we get money. Yay money!

I'm realizing now what an awesome idea it was to become a libertarian. While originally I just felt like I identified with the party more than I did the others, as my own beliefs solidify they move closer and closer to those of the party. I identified as a libertarian in a class discussion on Plan B, then felt bad about my lack of concrete knowledge of their platform and looked it up. The result?
"Holy shit! This is me!"

Awesome.

RAWR

So the improv show tonight went pretty pretty awesomely, despite me being in it! Seriously, though I did screw up a little, people did
(we interrupt this blog to announce that Broken Sunday by Saliva is a fantastic song. it just came on my playlist and blew my mind. That will be all)
laugh, so that works for me. I did a lot better during the meeting afterward, so at least I know I can do well. Just a matter of making it happen on stage.

I've noticed, and apparently so has the MC of the group, that when I make a character it tends to be either a) an unsympathetic guy or b) a very loud person. While it's not a good thing at all for an improv person to fall into a rut like that, it's curious that in an instance of quick thinking, I would choose those characters to fall back on. Does that say something about my subconscious? It'd be pretty cool if it turned out improv was a reliable method to discover your true self. I could dig it.

Come to think of it, is that why dead kittens and child abuse tend to play a far greater role in our performances than they should? Yeesh.

We want to write!

I'm supposed to be writing for Orange, since I do all my class crap in the first half of the week and pretty much just screw around for the second half. Problem is, everything got all screwed up when a Physics exam decided to occur this coming Friday. Normally this would mean nothing; I mean, I haven't studied for any exams yet and I've managed A's for all of them. This one, though, is something else: all kinds of stuff I've never encountered before, and I WILL fail if I don't sit my ass down and get in gear.

Then the weekend was originally slated for writing-time, but I will probably be entertaining company from my high school in the form of one of my close friends who is looking at UConn. Sunday night there is a possibility of writing taking place, but probably during breakdowns between calculating the number of subatomic particles the Enterprise's antimatter thrusters create (actual physics assignment). Then comes the work half of the week again...so, Orange may be delayed. I guess I can understand why webcomic peoples don't always meet their deadlines.

I'm sorry I doubted you, Chris and Kent!

This happened.

STUDENT: What percent of our grade is this worth?
TEACHING ASSISTANT: A BILLION.

What an awesome guy.

Equal opportunity? Apparently not.

I was asked to go to an art show, and vehemently declined. I'm not a fan of art, especially art with a thinly disguised social commentary. Only thing is, if someone else had asked me instead of this person, the answer would have been drastically different. So am I not truly as anti-humanities as I fancy myself to be, or am I just far too easily influenced into doing things I don't want to based on the company? And if it's the former, what the hell am I doing producing art films?

So apparently I don't hate all forms of art. Then again, who's to say art has to exist solely in Art? You can easily find aesthetic value in a particularly efficient computer program (not that I'd know...yet) or a well-executed web layout (while bleachfilm.com is not ideal, there are aspects I am exceedingly proud of). Most of all in writing...turns of phrase that just give you a chill, or roll deliciously off your tongue when you read it out loud...but that one's a little more commonly recognized, methinks. This is why I love xkcd: the guy obviously knows what I'm rambling about a lot better than I do. Maybe once I delve a little deeper it'll get clearer.

You know what sucks?

Bureaucracy. That's what sucks.

Spent hours wandering around campus, getting directed every which way, to sign up for a class I already have credit for, because I know my AP score was a fluke. It's only thanks to an awesome guy in the math department that I'm going to remain a full-time student: I otherwise would have had to email someone, get redirected to a building I'd already been to, talk to a faceless person with the registrar's office and not end up getting the class anyway. Thanks, math guy.

Science majors totally get gypped. Normally a class's credits are roughly equivalent to the number of hours you spend in class a week. I have 3 1-hour sessions in my English class, I get three credits. Easy enough.

I spend 7 hours in Physics a week: 3 in a lecture, 1 in a discussion section, 3 in lab. Worth 4 credits. What? Lab classes take far too much time, totally screw up your schedule. My second semester schedule had me in class for 17 hours a week, but I wasn't even counted as a full-time student. Not nice. Why do we not complain? Apparently if you're a physics major you're expected to suffer, while people have an easy time with things like education. Bullshit?

Is it the attitude people take towards science, the same reason people cringe or wince whenever I mention my major? Or perhaps it's self-inflicted, some masochistic qualifications of the scientific community itself to prove its superiority above the other academic subjects? To keep back the encroaching "lesser" majors like literary theory, minority studies and music? Maybe this is why we get that major division between left- and right-brained people. Thoughts?

So yes, bureaucracy sucks.

Can't wait until I get to start producing (read: "until we get a script") and red tape pops up EVERYWHERE. It's gonna be awesome, only not.

Uhhhhh...

Someone sent us the following message on the Bleach myspace account:

"i thought that u might have all ready
knew me because i did jrink bleach.
it was one of step moms bleach actidences
so she tells people.and lol i don't wish for no one to ever
jrink bleach it hurts u and makes u not be able to breath.
oh i was 4years old when that happened.
to make a long story short i thought someone
was playing a joke on me . lol"

Freaked the hell out of me.

Which reminds me of another random note:
I recently gained access to a whole lot of movies I meant to see but never got around to. So I've been working by way down, mostly Tarantino at Alex's advising, and I have to say they're fantastic.

So, the point:
I rewatched "I, Robot" last night because it's one of my favorites (yes, I am indeed aware that it was most decidedly not a Tarantino film. Extra Credit assignment: what would it be like if it was?), and I never realized how creepy Sonny sounds through the entire thing. It gave me the jibblies.

"WHAT...AM I?!"

An orgasmic auditory experience

Video doesn't matter. Just listen.

Phobia is without a doubt my favorite album ever, and my copy is currently in the possession of a crazy Polish girl. Boo.

Are you responsible for this head-blood?

Not much new movie-wise...expect exciting things exactly one week from now. I plan on getting shit done. Word.

I managed to mangle myself recently...I was heading to get food with some people and since we are lazy bastards, decided to wait for the bus to the other side of campus. We threw a frisbee around a little, to pass the time, and since I'm not the tallest person ever, and it was dark, they tended to go way overhead. I almost caught up with one while running backwards, but before I could connect with the disk I connected with a tree. I laughed, they laughed, the bus came, we went to eat.

We got to the Union, were walking towards the food court, when I put my hand to my head and felt blood.
ME: "Haha! Would you look at that? I barely felt that, but apparently I'm bleeding! Check it out!"
JEFF AND CHARLIE: while examining my head Uh...dude...you need to go to the hospital. Right now.

So I went to the infirmary where I was informed I needed to go to the emergency room. Sweet! Only instead to save time the nurses there, rather than stitching me up, braided my hair together to close up the wound. Wrapped my head up fairly intensely, and that was that.

I've been recently torn about who to spend time with. South Park with the 6th floor people, or Rocky Horror with Improv people? (In case you couldn't tell how difficult it is to be me. Look at what I have to deal with! How can I ever survive this?!) Spent this past weekend doing nothing but playing games with people from other floors, including the Improv people (Tall and Short: worst codenames ever). Missed out on much Starcraft and nearly some frisbee: worth it? I'd say so.

I was Bill Nye the Science Guy for Halloween. Then, since the Agents were all being Batman characters, I converted to Professor Milo. Lame, yes, but convenient.

Quick thing: I used to be all sullen and moody. Now I'm all not, which I definitely enjoy more as a whole but...did I lose my "sensitive" side? That would kinda suck.

So, to sum up:
-Nothing to complain about
-My head bled, but it was an overall positive experience
-Science costumes

Bleach: no changes
New movie: no changes
Orange: Yes changes, but nothing you need to know about. But get excited.

All Your Booty Are Belong To Us

Before I say anything else, hear this:
ALEX: "I don't know calculus. I don't think that's erotic."
Bet you really want to know what we talk about, don't you?

Now, on to the SPACE PIRATES.

So I just rewatched Alien Resurrection, and I think it's a strong candidate for "Best Scifi Movie Ever". Consider these convincing points.
WARNING: serious spoilers. If you want to be surprised by one of my favorite movies, watch it RIGHT NOW, and then continue reading.

• It features SPACE PIRATES, as the good guys.


• Their ship is named the Betty.


• Ripley 8 finds the lab where they keep the horrific failed experiments that are Ripleys 1-7. Few things in movies have creeped me out more than hearing #7 gurgle "kill me". I'm all a-shiver. Wooah.


• The lab gets torched.


• They throw the usual scifi order-of-death to hell. The pirate captain (also the only one with a romantic interest!) hacks it right at the start. The random security guard with no character development (his name is Distefano! Cool!) is the last to go.


• The cripple, and the hired muscle(Ron Perlman): awesome.
  JOHNER: "If we wanna make any decent time, I say we ditch the cripple. No offense, buddy."
  VRIESS: [flips Johner the bird] "None taken!"
  
  JOHNER: "What's burning?"
  VRIESS: "Us!"
  JOHNER: "Shit! You're right!"


• The alien getting sucked out the viewport through a hole one inch in diameter: best movie death ever?


• The civilian going ape on the evil doctor, and the alien fetus busting out of his chest into the doctor's skull: second best movie death ever?


• An underwater fight scene where you could actually tell what was going on!


• A fight scene on a ladder above a tank of coolant.


• "You are...a beautiful, beautiful BUTTERFLY!"


• The general was hilarious. I don't even know why.

The only other movie vying for first place at the moment is, of course, Serenity. Is it coincidence that the two best movies of all time prominently feature space pirates? I THINK NOT.

SPACE PIRATES RULE!

WOOHOO!

Sweet Jesus!

I don't think I've mentioned this here before, but I firmly believe that a man must have his heroes.
My personal heroes come in two varieties: major and minor. A minor hero is someone who does some pretty awesome stuff, but who has not necessarily led a life worthy of awe. Examples include Richard Dean Anderson (as much as I love MacGuyver and Colonel O'Neil, and that he was in Fallout, I've yet to be suitably impressed) , Justin Long (I loved Live Free or Die Hard, and Dodgeball, and he does an awesome job of making geeks look cool), and Jeremy Bullock (yes, he was Fett, but we need a little something more).

A step above these are my major heroes. While I can (and do) add people to the minor hero list all the time, I am far more particular when it comes to picking my major heroes. Only those who have lived the most awesomely of all, and who have ventured where no sane man dare venture, can make this elite list. For this reason, only three men to this day have earned this prestigious standing:

• Bruce Campbell


• Bill Nye


• James Cromwell

Bruce Campbell is a B-movie actor who awesome beyond belief. He has been friends with the Raimi brothers (Sam, the director of Spiderman; Ivan, a writer for Spiderman; Ted, who played Hoffman in Spiderman) since childhood, when they all started out making movies together. DESTINY! Bruce is "famous" for his roles in the Evil Dead trilogy, the glorious Bubba Ho-Tep, and his self-produced film The Man With the Screaming Brain (among various campy scifi movies such as Alien Apocalypse and Terminal Invasion. Glorious). He had a TV show back in the late 90's called Jack of All Trades, which was hilarious; he was in a comedic western, Brisco Country Jr.; and was a recurring character in Hercules/Xena as the King of Thieves. He has a unique acting style that is there in all his roles, which is simultaneously why he's a B-actor, and why he's got such a devoted fan base.

Bill Nye the Science Guy is probably the reason I'm a physics major. Was it his bow-tied goodness that led to my predisposition towards math and science altogether? Debatable. But he's just so damn awesome, besides my history with PBS. Who else gets married at a scientific convention to a world-renowned oboist, and exchanges watches instead of rings to "symbolize man's eternal struggle with time", while a mathematician plays the wedding march on the piano? Nobody does, that's who. Only the Nye. I plan on being him for Halloween, once I dye a lab coat and find a bow tie.

James Cromwell is the most recent addition to this list: I added him after staring in awe at his IMDB record. You will know him best as the farmer in Babe, but he has appeared in "I, Robot" as Dr. Lanning, in that horse-based Disney movie as The Colonel, in "The Longest Yard" and "The Green Mile" as prison wardens, and in "Rudy" and "'Salem's Lot" as priests. He was in "Revenge of the Nerds" 1-4. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Name pretty much every show ever, he's in it. He appeared in every Star Trek series except the latest one (remember the clip I posted last night? SWEET JESUS? That was him in "First Contact"). He was Jack Bauer's father in 24. The West Wing. 6 Feet Under. ER. Home Improvement. Magnum PI. The Twilight Zone. Knight Rider. Diff'rent Strokes. Barney Miller. A Little House on the Prairie. Three's Company. M*A*S*H. All In The Family. The man is a MACHINE. He is also an active member of PETA, appears in some of their commercials, is a vegan, and is(was?) the treasurer for the Screen Actors' Guild.

The reason I bring this up is I was talking with Alex tonight, and James Cromwell came up in conversation. I believe it went something like this:

ME: SWEET JESUS!
ALEX: Haha, is that your new thing now?
ME: Thank you, James Cromwell!
ALEX: Want to put him in the movie?

When people choose their heroes (or when I do, anyway) they don't generally plan on meeting them in person. They plan on living out their lives, worshipping the hero in secret, and letting him or her die blissfully unaware of their existence. Never did the thought of actually HIRING James Cromwell enter my mind. It sounds far too good to be true.

This is only the most hypothetical of plans, of course. There's no way to know if we can get James for even a day at the time when we're going to film. There's no way of knowing if we'll even be able to afford a single day of filming with the man. All I know for sure is that my producers instinct (save money!) and my fanboy instinct (pay a million dollars, if you have to, just get the man close enough to smell!) are in serious conflict right now.

More on this as it develops. Meaning, you probably won't hear anything more for another year or so. Doesn't matter to me; even having entertained this idea is enough to make me light-headed. Now I need to see Bill Nye give a lecture, and I have no idea where to find Bruce Campbell. Oh well.

I CAN'T STOP MY BRAIN FROM SCREAMING

So, yes, third post in a night, but I can't help it. This memory was repressed until JUST NOW and I need to get it out, lest I explode.

So I was helping out at the Agents show on Tuesday night. The performers were warming up, so I was sitting just outside the theater, chatting it up with our campus newspaper's head photographer. All was going fine until two venerable men hobbled on past us.

We did not give the occurrence a second thought until one of the elderlies, deftly spying the camera in my companion's hand, thought it amusing to drop his pants and give us a full-throttle Old Man Moon. "Take a picture of this! he says, before hiking the pants up again and continuing on as though nothing had happened.

In terror, the photographer and I looked at each other, exchanged glances of mutual internal hemorrhaging, and fell mute for the longest time.

They wonder why I hate old people.

(In other news, I just now discovered that they have icons on the posting window for ordered and unordered lists. I'll still do it manually, but it won't seem as cool anymore.)

It just owns SO MUCH!

Whenever I get the feeling that a band may supplant Breaking Benjamin as my all-time favorite, I watch this video and my fears are dispelled.



Hot damn, Ben Burnley. Hot damn.

So, how about that Ebola?

It's been a week, technically, since the last post (which is bullshit; it should not become a new day until it's light out! It is NOT Friday yet, dammit!), so I figured I should say something about other things.

We've (Aneta, Alex and myself) come up with a name for our production company: Miniature Carousel Productions. Doesn't it just summon up all kinds of images of tiny plastic horses, tiny tinkling music, and tiny screaming children throwing up everywhere? Love it.

"An Orange For William" is coming along nicely. We've only got the first drafts of a few pages so far, but it's already hilarious. This is going to be something you will want, let there doubt about it.

That's it for us news. Now to me news.

The beginning of this week was less than ideal, since I was up through entire nights doing work. Not cool. It was all made up for, though, by a 10-hour powernap today. I have been in an indefatigable mood ever since; I'm so content it almost hurts.

I discovered about a week ago that the entire guy's wing of our floor plays Starcraft. (It's curious; most of them aren't what people would normally consider to be geeks or anything, so banish the thought from your head. BANISH IT.) Since then, we've been doing little else. Really, the other people in the building are wondering what the hell happened to the entire 6th floor; "Where is the 6th floor?" they say as they sit around doing nothing in the lobby all day. "We've got people here from every floor but that one." It's because our women are busy baking (seriously) and all the guys are playing Starcraft over the school network. My whiteboard is currently inhabited by a running scoreboard, and every other board in the hall is covered in scrawled drawings of futuristic war machines and alien terrors.

Glorious.

In other news, I'm getting a little more into improv. I joined the Agents just because someone approached me with a mailing list, and since I "have laughed in the past, are laughing now, or plan to laugh in the future", I qualified to sign up. I didn;t go to any meetings since improv? Not my thing. But I happened to run into someone on their way to a meeting, tagged along, and laughed harder than I ever have in my life.

So I kept going to meetings, participated a little, and really enjoyed myself. So people ask if any new people want to learn some basics? of course I go. I could see myself getting at least good enough to perform in the free shows we put on monthly. I find it a little weird that I tend to get on better with these theater-type people than with the video game geeks. I felt a little threatened when with the VGA, as though I constantly had to prove my geekiness lest I be shunned as an outsider. Maybe I'm not quite as geeky as I thought. Oh well.

Last news: Dimitri Martin is a very funny guy. He performed here tonight, and it was an enjoyable experience. He made a song about one of the Agents members who was working the show. Pretty great.

EDIT:
An important note:
If I got a million dollars, I would probably spend most of it on geeky tee-shirts. Only then would I remember that rather expensive movie we're making. DAMMIT.

EDIT #2

Handlebar Moustaches!

Okay, dig it. I like to write, Alex likes to write. We've been trying, off and on, to pull something together for probably 6 years now. It started with Nowhere, which was a delightfully hilarious fantasy story, but it was a premise made for middle schoolers. Which we were, so it was ok. Now that we're big bad college students, we're got a new one going, and it
is
Fucking
AMAZING.

Here's the deal.

An Orange For William is the story of an extremely British expedition of olden days to an uncharted island. I don't want to say much more, other than that we love olden-times British people, and we have faith in their potential for hilarity. The characters are something only two crazy people with a fondness for off-beat humor and access to psychotropic drugs could create. Combine that with our idea of adventurous encounters with the unknown, and you've got something amazing.

The best part is, it's really happening. We've got the whole story planned out (Nowhere has nothing but the most primitive of a plotline, which would be one reason it died), and we've already begun writing this, our crowning achievement (or was that Bleach? hard to keep track these days).

You know what's even better? Publishing companies be damned! Why go through all the bother of getting signed when you can just publish it yourself? We hope to have this mother available for purchase online in only three months, but don't hold us to it. Still, the odds are good that you can have it in your hands before Bleach. Funny how that works.

And there's one thing that just takes the cake: since we just happen to have all this fancy sound equipment lying around from Bleach, why not create a book on CD? Narrated by none other than Alex and Myself, and perhaps a few actors from Bleach for their stellar voices. Excited yet?!?!

If not, just you wait.

Flicker flicker, intermission is at an end

Lots of stuff happened this past weekend. Very little of it was Bleach-related, but you should still care. Believe me, you should care. I shall explain why...in a bit.

First off: Played Halo 3, at long, long last. Hot damn! An amazing ending (or IS IT?!) to a classic scifi series. And that's all I have to say about that.

Next: Saturday evening found us (Alex, Aneta and myself) once again in Barnes and Noble, about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime. Woohoo!

With Bleach in the wrapping-up stage, we've begun to move on to a new project. We're doing it correctly this time. Be afraid.

Bleach was a spur of the moment thing: conceived in June of this year, Alex and Aneta's twisted love-child of a film was entirely written, filmed, and edited in 4 months (June-September is 4 months. I learned that in school!). We filmed when the actors had days off from work. It did not have a script. It did not have a budget. It had a cast made of our closest high school friends. Fun, yes, and effective, but decidedly unprofessional. It's a film by high school students.

Our new film (yet untitled) is slated to be filmed in 2010. Aneta has two years to write/rewrite/rerewrite/perfect the script; filming will take three weeks (working all day, every day, for those 3 weeks); editing will go on through our senior year in college. It WILL have a script. It WILL have a budget of approximately $50,000 (more on this later- keep in mind that you're reading the producer's blog. Much bitching will undoubtedly occur). It will have a cast of paid actors (with actual acting experience!). The bottom line is that we're being very, very professional here. It's a film by college students, directed by a genuine film major.

Holy crap, it's gonna be big!

Of course, that means we actually have to do shit now.

• I was given the title of producer in Bleach because I drove people around, bought lunch once, and was around a lot of the time. Now, I have to manage a budget (of a lot of money). I have to manage a goddamn production company to keep us from getting sued and losing all the money we don't, as college students, have. I have to come up with a way of getting us $50,000 to start with. So much for the Physics degree.


• Aneta has to write a script. Bleach had no script; Aneta was given the title of writer because it was her twisted fantasies that gave way to Bleach's story. There's a big difference between telling someone your ideas and writing a whole script. Is this gonna work? Aneta says it won't be a problem, and Alex has faith, so I guess that's good enough for me.


• Alex is filling in our gaps. A good film, apparently, has 4 people at the top: 2 creative ones, and 2 money-minded ones. Since Aneta and I are one each (take a stab at which ones), he has to be two drastically different people. I think the purchase of several hats is in order: a beret and a bowler hat. He could wear them one at a time, or perhaps both at once (assuming, of course, that the effects don't cancel each other out. If that is the case, a new beret-bowler hybrid may need to be created. I don't want to play God).

So back to my part as producer. Our estimated required budget is $50,000, split up roughly into:

NEW EQUIPMENT: $10,000 (The low-quality look worked well for Bleach, but it won't for this one)
CAST: $10,000 (according to Aneta, it'll be a big cast. I just wish I could instill the fear of god into her)
EDITING: $20,000 (since we're filming in digital, Alex assures me that much converting must be done to get it festival- and DVD release-ready. This could easily go up)
OTHER: $10,000 (such as food, festival entry fees, gas, location fees, costumes, makeup, etc.)

Our supposed plan of gaining this money:
Profits from Bleach: $100
Donations: The rest of it

I spy, with my eye, something that is ENTIRELY IMPLAUSIBLE!

We have a few alternative, if not entirely dependable, methods to reduce the amount of donations needed.

1. Grants: Alex is a film major, and colleges love giving kids money to make themsleves look good. Hope?


2. Book: Alex and I came up with a FANTASTIC idea for an easy-to-write book that only we could possibly ever write. It has a great amount of appeal, so we're optimistic about raising a few hundred by selling it online. This project will serve the dual purpose of making us money and keeping us busy while we wait for Aneta to do her thang. I'll be talking about this later, I know it. (Here's a little something for the present: our title is "An Orange for William". It will be the stuff of legends)


3. Various illegal activities: proposed fundraisers have included muggings, burglary, bank robberies, and illegally collecting on property insurance. This is perhaps the most reliable source of income.

That's everything for now. Will post more as these budding projects take a little more shape.

When the world gets in his face, Bon Jovi says:

Today was totally awesome. Seriously.

Have you ever had a day where everything just went right? That was totally today for me. I would hesitate to call it the best day of my life, because nothing extraordinary happened. It's just that everything went right. Spot on.

Started right away:

1. I woke up in time to finish my homework. It was very easy to complete. There was zero frustration involved.


2. Found my watch which has been missing for weeks. Woohoo!


3. Got my physics exam back. I have been sucking at physics this year, so I had low expectations, especially after talking with Blue Haired Kid. But you know what? ACED IT, BABY. Totally awesome.


4. Got out of physics with enough time to get to bio. I walked a little slow, so I didn't quite make it, but they were only three mins or so into our weekly quiz. I step into the classroom and go to my usual (late) desk, and lo and behold, there's already a paper! I look around in confusion and the grad student TA catches my eye. He gives me a nod, and I understand. We had a moment. It was a nice moment. Also the quiz was exceedingly easy this time around.


5. Got my bio lab assignment done right away. Normally I start on Monday and don't finish until Wednesday, but today breezing occurred and the whole thing was done (before the engineering lab closed. Sweet, sweet BLAST-database and global base pair alignment. (NOTE: I totally had to do work on the Eyeless gene today. And you know what? It was the eyeless gene in FLIES. That's messed up, man.)


6. I was heading to dinner when I was SWALLOWED UP, Jonas-style, into a group of people from the 5th floor. The experience was both hilarious and life-threatening (do not, under any circumstances, try to laugh while eating rice. You will die). Met several people and good times were had by all.


7. Our wing of the 6th floor ordered pizza, which was exceedingly delicious. Win!


8. Alex and I have come up with an outstanding idea for a new movie (don't worry, Bleach is still happening. It is now entirely impossible to stop it now. It's out of our hands), one that is too fabulous for words. It won't actually happen, of course; it's entirely implausible for us to film it. But a screenplay is both a possibility and an inevitability! It's being written right now! Here's an example of us brainstorming names:
   
   ME: Bruce?
   ALEX: Too homagey.
   ME: Kyle?
   ALEX: Too metrosexual.
   ME: Ralph?
   ALEX: Gay.
   ME:Derek?
   ALEX: Gay.
   ME: Max?
   ALEX: Fat.
   ME: Ernie?
   ALEX: Stupid.
   ME: Owen? Zack? Austin? Tyler? Mason? Clitoris?
   ALEX: WHAT!?
   ME: Nothing.
   
   It'll be great. You can already tell.

So, yes. Best day ever? Strong candidate! (Ron Paul? What?)

Dart.

You know what awesome is? You're giving a tour to the parents of prospective Honors Uconn students, and you walk by someone's room. The sole occupant of said room is wearing nothing but boxers and boxing gloves, and is singing/dancing to "eye of the tiger". That, my friends, is awesome.

Da HELL is THIS?

I was taking exams from 4 to 8 tonight. I finish the last one, head on over to the dining hall...and apparently they all close at 7:30 on weekends? PHOOEY ON THEM!

Chem was amazingly easy, and I am all the happier for it. Physics seemed easier than I expected; Blue Haired Kid had to go and explain, on the walk back, why everything I put was wrong. Oh well. I was able to understand all the questions perfectly clearly, which is more than I could say at the beginning of the semester.

SO, genetic engineering. Are you aware how severely we can screw with stuff? Oh yeah. I always thought it'd be pretty cool to be able to mess with genes, play God a little, that sort of thing. There's the negative side, of course; remember that scene in Alien Resurrection when Ripley 6 sees Ripleys 1-5, horribly deformed and monstrous, and one of them gurgles "please...kill me"? That was awesome, yet it gave me the jibblies.

So in MCB we were talking about a certain gene, called "eyeless". Contrary to what you'd expect, it's the gene that gives you eyes. More specifically, since all cells have all the genetic code in them, it turns on the eye genes in places where there should be eyes, like...you know...your face.

What does this mean? You can stick "eyeless" in any cell group and, you guessed it, you get eyes.

Would they really...no they wouldn't...

OH YES THEY WOULD

There are pictures of flies...flies with eyes. Eyes on their legs, on antennae, on wings, wherever the hell you want them. There are also pictures of flies with legs stuck in strange places: let's replace the antennae with legs! How about a couple legs on the wings? Seriously.

I don't care about the flies; flies suck. It's crazy, though, how much control we're starting to gain as a species. Used to be we could build things, we could destroy things, but we couldn't really manipulate them. So much for that! Looks like genetic biology is going to be the place to be in coming years. I might want to get in on it, but I might fancy that I hear little fly voices asking me to kill them, and then torch the lab. Got napalm?

No, I guess I don't really care that much about it. Yay science! Just...keep it away from babies. Oh, and kittens.

WE INTERRUPT THIS QUASI-MORAL DISCUSSION TO BRING YOU AN OUTRAGE.

I took all my and my brother's CD's and uploaded the music to Lappy 2.0 this past weekend, so I could hear a playlist of more than 8 songs. ANYWAY

I love Breaking Benjamin; they've been top of the list for almost a year now. However, they subscribe to that minor annoyance that I mentioned earlier: each album comes with a sucky slow song, the most egregious of which is "Stay in Love Forever". Gross.

That one's a "hidden track", but not the normal kind. It comes on if you wait 2 minutes or so after an AMAZING song, "Shallow Bay", meaning...it's on the same track. I did not know this until just now. So my least favorite song ever is BIOLOGICALLY ATTACHED to one of the best. WHAT DA HELL, MAN? No food, and now THIS?

...At least I only have 2 eyes! SORRY FLIES!

MAKE UP YOUR MIND

Either study your damn science, read the damn Melville or go to SLEEP, stupid! Make up your mind instead of sitting here watching episodes of Scrubs, thinking about all the crap I should be doing!

Bleach news: none? But we're about to embark on an epic journey. You may hear about it later. Perhaps.

It needs to be tonight, badly. I have 2 exams this evening and a brief paper due, and I just want them over with so I can tear up the campus in a crazy game of Capture the Flag, featuring the Insufferably Pretentious Guy From High School Who Is Actually Kind Of Cool! Oh, and Halo 3. I'm a huge fan of a) scifi, b) epic battles and c) shooter games, so naturally I adore the Halo series. I hear Halo 3 is the best yet, and I want to finish the bastard before someone leaks the ending to me. Hooray for having friends with next-gen systems!

I HOPE THIS WEEKEND WILL FEATURE GOOD TIMES. I SUPPOSE THIS DEPENDS ON HOW THOSE EXAMS GO, EH?

Holy crap, I forgot to eat today.

And now for some burrito-flavored humor.

There's a burrito place on campus that I frequent (contrary to popular belief, I am a big fan of burritos in general, and spicy burritos in particular), and today it struck me: how awesome would it be to sell a burrito to myself?!?! I suspect the conversation would go something like this.

BURR= BURRITO-PLACE EMPLOYEE VERSION OF ME
HUNGR= HUNGRY BURRITO-CONSUMER VERSION OF ME

BURR: Next?
HUNGR: Yeah, can I get a chicken burrito?
BURR: HELL YES you can.
HUNGR: Well that's just fantastic!
BURR: Sauce?
HUNGR: Uhhhhhhhhqueso.
BURR: Queso...alriight...vegetables?
HUNGR: Lettuce, jalapenos, and hot salsa.
BURR: Oookay, lettuce...salsaaaa...HEY! get over here, ya jalapenos.
HUNGR: Little bastards.
BURR: Damn right. Have a burrito.
HUNGR: Sweet.
BURR: Hey, you look a lot like me.

To make this fantasy come true, I am prepared to a) work at a burrito place the rest of my life and b) clone myself. Ethics be damned! This is just TOO AWESOME to NOT happen (ZOMG split infinitive).

(Speaking of morals and clones and stuff, I want to talk about genetic engineering one of these times. I won't now, because I don't want to harsh my burrito-induced buzz. One of these days...PREPARE YOURSELVES!)

Part 2 of the burrito ordeal:

I want to reach a state of semi-fame one day, for a very specific reason. I figure this will be easiest if I am a) an actor or b) a sports player, so I plan on dropping my physics major and pursuing something I a) don't enjoy doing or b) suck at. It's all worth it, and you'll know why.

One day, when I am semi-famous, I will be walking around in some city, and I will buy a burrito. I will take this burrito out on the street with me, and find someone waiting at a crosswalk (note: he does not recognize me, since I'm only semi-famous. Otherwise, this would not work). I will stand there nicely for a few seconds, before taking a big ol' bite of the burrito, and turning to my pedestrian companion.

"MMMMMM" I will say, to his great alarm. "This is one TASTY burrito."

In my imagination, he gives the slight smile you normally reserve for crazy bearded men handing out bibles, and turn away, hoping the light will change. It could, but it doesn't, and it shouldn't. He is trapped there with me, so I continue.

"Seriously, this burrito is grade-A delectable. Someone went out of his way to make this treat extra-tasty, just for me. In all honesty I can safely say I have never encountered such a delicious Mexican meal in all my years of eating burritos, and contrary to popular belief, I am a big fan of burritos in general, and spicy burritos in particular. Would you like a bite?"

I shove the half-eaten burrito toward his face, and he turns in alarm to see my face RIGHT THERE, the eyes burning with madness. It is a fearsome visage that will haunt his dreams forever more.

He blabbers out some refusal of my offer, the little white crosswalk-guy turns on and he hurries across the street before I can lunge at him again.

A week later, he sees a movie with me in it. His eyes bulge with incredulity; unable to contain himself, he gets to his feet, points to the screen and shouts "that's him! That's the burrito guy!". In the back of the theater, I laugh softly to myself: now I can die happy.

Too bad physicists never achieve states of semi-fame; the only guy anyone can identify by looks is Stephen Hawking, and I think it'd have a different effect coming from him.

But you know what? I bet Bill Nye could pull it off.

Write what you know, dumbass.

So I came to the realization that the blog has been sucking as of late. The obvious explanation would be that I stopped writing about Bleach and went on about...me...which is never a good idea. I doubt there is a thing in the universe that I know less about than myself (girls are the obvious exception)

Minor Bleach update: final cut has been...cut. At long last, we have a finished product. Leap for joy, just not all at once, because you might throw off the earth's rotation.

Maybe I'll add something later. Maybe. After I get back from kicking ass at a Starcraft LAN with the video game club. Proper.

EDIT: Number of asses I kicked during the LAN: zero =D

-Chris

You know how jellyfish are really flexible, and have no bones?

So I think it's required for every quiet, thoughtful teenager to go through an identity crisis at some point. That's a lie; I have no idea whether that would be true, having never been another person before (not to offend you Hindu's out there. It's just that if I was another person before, and I don't remember it, it doesn;t exactly count). All I know is that I had a minor one today. Yes, that's right, a minor crisis. Why not just say an identity issue, you say, as crisis implies something major? I say to you: shut up.

So I realized at one point today I have trouble being "myself" around people at school. I generally know when I'm being "myself" because I have a tendency to be somewhat witty, and when I hear myself I think "damn, I'm cool." I remember vividly, because it doesn't happen often.

Thing is, it's not just a matter of becoming comfortable. I'm pretty well adjusted, and I've made friends with a few very cool people, yet I still have been unable to make much of a personality come out (I try, believe me. Once you start having to try, though, you might as well give up. I don't think you're supposed to).

However, Jon was accompanying me back up to my dorm when I was coming back this Sunday, and I passed several people from my classes, and there it was: "damn, I'm cool". What can we conclude? It depends on the person I'm with; not just my relationship with them, but on their personality in particular. Either I copy it, or complement it, which would mean I'm really different depending on who I'm near. Dynamic!

(Q: That is by no means the only explanation, nor even the most obvious one. What makes you think this is the case?
A: Shut the hell up.)

So, final thoughts:
1) I'm making a big deal of nothing, because that's what you do in blogs. That's what I do in blogs, anyway. I'm only half-serious here. Maybe four-sevenths-serious.

2) I'm probably perfectly normal, personality-wise, and am only abnormal because I gave this observation this much thought. Irony sucks!

3) What does this mean overall? How will I fix this problem and give myself a more concrete identity? Absolutely nothing! It's worked well enough so far.

4) The spice must flow.

5)When the choice comes down to doing homework and posting meaningless crap on your blog, you know what the right answer is. What the right answer always is.

You're quick. No one's ever beaten the SNAKE before!

I've been calling myself a 'geek' for a few years now, but as painful as it is to admit it, I had not seen the Mad Max trilogy until tonight. I had every reason in the world to do so: it's one of the most famous and oft-quoted of all geek movies. Deveau, my calculus teacher last year, counts it among her favorite movies ever, and she loved both The Stand and Firefly. Fallout is based heavily off it (to the point of including the character Mad Max in both games). I've meant to see it for a long time, but only got around to it tonight. Better late than never, I guess; that's one more item off my Geek List I can check off.

GEEK LIST:

• Name a Star Wars species other than Wookie or Ewok


• Work on a robot


• Play Starcraft, Diablo, and Fallout (the classics!)


• Have an Isaac Asimov collection


• Wear a USB flash drive at all(most) times


• Either own a mac or run Linux


• Have a folder on your computer entitled "LOLcats"


• Publish a website


• Become fluent in C++


• Repair an electronic device that appears to be irreparable


• Hack something. Anything.


• Go to the midnight release of a non-mainstream game (Fallout 3 Fall 2008!)
  
• Attend a LAN party


• Join a D&D group


• Watch Firefly, Star Trek, and BSG


• Watch The Thing


• Watch the Star Wars Holiday Special


• Watch the Matrix Trilogy


• Watch/play the Chronicles of Riddick Trilogy


• Watch the Mad max Trilogy


• Produce an independent film(Not really.)

Note: this is what is required for me to consider myself a geek. Don't be all "YOU CAN'T JUDGE ME! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ME!" on me. Although if you're the type of person who would do that, I will never ever consider you a geek. Haha.

If you feel I missed anything crucial, add it as a comment. I will a) boast that I've done it, b)say it's a stupid criterion, or c)lament my state as a poser-geek.

This is why we're hot.

Words from the Yan man. Read, enjoy, and keep in mind: those numbers there? They don't really exist. Doesn't that just blow your mind?

ANECDOTES FROM THE PRODUCTION OF
“DON’T DRINK THE BLEACH”

Chris Caporaso, our erstwhile web administrator, has asked me to write something for the Bleach website, so all of you fine people can get a glimpse into my sleep-deprived mind. However, instead of tackling the assigned topic (the wonder that is Aneta Klusak), I’ve decided instead to list a few of my favorite anecdotes from the production of this “film”. Don’t worry, the orgy of gratification that is the “Aneta Tribute Essay” will be coming eventually (maybe), but due to the fact that I’m hours away from locking the final cut of this movie (more or less), I only have time for these brief anecdotes. Enjoy, with my compliments.

-AY

1. One day, production was halted for three hours and forty-five minutes as Aneta desperately tried to solve a puzzle where you have to place a golf ball on a tee enclosed in a snowglobe (don’t ask). This was the first time I contemplated firing her, only to realize that this film would be dead in the water without her. (A human being can live with one kidney, but this movie could not live with just one half of the creative team. Still, that day was a pain in the ass.)


2. Another day, production was halted for an hour while Aneta did a spontaneous rewrite and I played the song “Umbrella” by Rihanna over and over again off of Nick’s laptop in an attempt to find the underlying sexual subtext. (I found it, by the way. That song is dirty.)


3. One day I chastised Ian for going to the bathroom during his break. So, on the first shot back, he kicked the tripod.


4. Note: I called Aneta fat approximately 1000 times during the course of this shoot. Nobody verbally agreed with me, but I knew they were all thinking it.


5. During one shoot, Joe Pisani and Mike Diana got the brilliant idea of dangling Nick Mastracchio off of a second-story balcony for a scene. We decided against it, but they did it regardless. Nick was angry, but calmed down eventually. We ended up cutting the scene anyways.


6. I threw a total of about 35 bitch-fits during the shooting/editing of this movie. I’m sorry for most of them; they were all undeserved. This isn’t really an anecdote, but dammit, I love my cast, and it’s about time they knew that.


7. While stopped at a gas station to buy batteries, I was verbally assaulted by a pair of rednecks who were fascinated with the furry wind-screen I had placed over the shotgun mike. “Is that a fuzzy thing?” One of them asked. I said that it was, being careful not to make eye contact. The other redneck heard this and promptly flipped out. “It might be a weapon! Put DOWN the weapon!” Dumbasses.


8. Mike Diana has an unbroken one-take record. However, the fact that he had no lines may have had something to do with this.

DAMMIT

Here it is, the promised post, mere hours after the original, and even this several hours after actually receiving the stuff. Let it be known throughout the land that Alex sent me his FAQ (which will go on bleachfilm.com tomorrow afternoon, since I'm tired as hell), while Aneta has yet to send me the promotion pics (EDIT: I feel bad now, apparently Aneta's computer was KIA). Ha, only kidding, there's obviously a reason (despite the fact that you have no classes yet =P), so I ain't judging (especially since my cast essay should've been done weeks ago); I'm not trying to be an ass, I swear. Anyway, this here document is what you really wanted anyway, right? Brain-food, not eye-candy?

...DAMMIT!

Anyway, here, have some facts. Enjoy.

THE TOP TEN MOST FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS OF ALEX YAN ABOUT “DON’T DRINK THE BLEACH”

1. THE AGE OF THE ACTORS YOU USED HAS BEEN THE SOURCE OF SOME CONTROVERSY. HOW HAS THIS AFFECTED YOUR WORK ON THE MOVIE?
Well, it’s pretty obvious that this film was made by a bunch of angry teenagers, and with angry teenagers comes the societal belief that teenagers shouldn’t be involved in anything dangerous or explicit. While this is true to an extent, people don’t seem to understand that this movie only simulates dangerous/explicit situations, and posed no threat at all to the safety of the actors. Still, whenever you have a movie with uncomfortable situations involving teenagers, people will always have problems with you.

2. DO YOU HAVE ANY FEARS PENDING THIS FILM'S RELEASE?
It’s a major fear of mine that some people will try to stop me from releasing it. Due to the somewhat graphic nature of the film (or at least the perceived graphic nature), we’ve had some issues with release forms as well as numerous debates over what footage I can and cannot use. I’m not talking about any issues with the actors, however; they were all very understanding. Some other people, however, have gotten themselves involved and are posing some troubling questions. While I think the movie is telling an important story, some people in the production can’t seem to look past the surface.

3. I'VE HEARD RUMORS THAT ACTUAL DRUGS WERE USED BY THE CAST DURING THE SCENES WHERE MARIJUANA AND HEROIN ARE TAKEN BY THE MAIN CHARACTERS. IS THERE ANY TRUTH TO THIS?
I love these rumors. Of course they’re untrue! Where would I get heroin? Again, this goes back to the concerns over the age of the actors. These rumors are sensationalist, and possess little substance or basis in fact.

4. WHAT ABOUT SEXUAL EXPLICITNESS? HOW FAR HAVE YOU PUSHED IT DUE TO THE UNDERAGE ACTRESSES?
There has been a lot of talk over this as well, and it is important that we all be objective and mature about this content. While I personally think the sexual explicitness is rather tame by today’s standards, the age issue has again come into question. However, while a lot of footage was shot, only the takes that were legally usable appear in the film.

5. IF THE MPAA WERE TO RATE THIS FILM, WHAT WOULD THEY RATE IT AND WHY?
I have neither the respect nor the money to have this film rated by the MPAA, but if they were to evaluate it, I’m sure it would obtain at least an R-Rating, due to the smoking, profanity, violence, sexuality and disturbing content. However, it is my intention, at least for the moment, to keep this film unrated, with a noticeable warning to inform any sensitive viewers of the content.

6. JUST WHAT IS IT THAT MAKES THIS MOVIE THE HEAD-TRIP YOU CLAIM IT TO BE?
Well, head-trip may be the wrong word, but watching this movie will definitely be a strange experience. The story line includes, among other things, a rape, an abortion, the dismembering of a person’s tongue with a pair of scissors, multiple occasions of drug use, a montage of various sexual encounters, and a profanity-laden rant delivered by a would-be religious activist. You know. The usual stuff.

7. YOU'VE CLAIMED THERE'S BEEN AN ISSUE OF CREDIT ON THIS FILM. WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT?
Well, I’ve been credited as the director due to my handling of the technical aspect, but Aneta Klusak, the writer and lead actress, was heavily involved with the production as well. In fact, it was about a fifty-fifty effort between the two of us, so much so that you never see just one of our names in the credits at any time; we are always credited together. Even though there was a definite division of labor (she handled the creative aspect while I handled the technical), it really was a mutual effort, and we hope that people will understand that.

8. WHAT IS IT YOU FEEL SETS BLEACH APART FROM OTHER INDIE FILMS MAKING THE FESTIVAL TOUR?
Well, the age of the creators, for one. As I’ve said, almost no one involved in the production of this film was over the age of nineteen. However, I hope this doesn’t hurt us by denoting a sense of non-professionalism. Also, the fact that the entire movie was shot on low-grade Digital Video is something that will also make it stand out, for better or for worse. Not very many narrative filmmakers do this, and it is more or less unthinkable in today’s movie industry.

9. DO YOU BELIEVE LOW-QUALITY DIGITAL VIDEO TO BE A LEGITIMATE STORYTELLING MEDIUM?
Absolutely, as long as you understand what digital video can and cannot do. It’s an inherently rough, edgy medium, and the quality is nowhere near high-definition. However, as long as the movie-maker understands the limitations, DV can absolutely be used to tell a story, and, with some stories, may be the only medium that should be used.

10. THE NARRATIVE STYLE OF THIS MOVIE IS VERY UNUSUAL, AND IS SOMETHING THAT HASN'T REALLY BEEN SEEN BEFORE. DO YOU THINK PEOPLE WILL BE ABLE TO FOLLOW THE STORY?
It’s difficult to say. We try to respect our audience’s intelligence, but the film is knowingly confusing. It’s not blatantly weird for the sake of weird, but it is rather cyclical and even paradoxical at times. So, my statement on the movie is this: The first time you watch it, it will seem like chaos on film; a mass of unintelligible images and sounds. The second time you watch it, it will still seem that way. On a third viewing, however, it should all click for you, and make perfect sense. At least, it will if you’ve been paying attention. However, unlike other films of this nature, there is an answer to the puzzle. I guarantee you that.

-AY

There you have it, the man, the myth, the Chinaman in all his glory. Interesting tidbit: final (and this time we really mean FINAL, no if's, and's or but's) cut is happening RIGHT NOW. History is being made in a hotel in Massachusetts as you sit and stare at your computer screen. How does that make you feel?

Beware the clippers of doom

Hi. I tried to wait as long as possible to do this post, because I was hoping to coordinate it with a bleachfilm.com update, which obviously didn't happen. Expect another post in the next day or so (or, with my luck, an hour from now) about that. Until then...I dunno. Masturbate or something.

I'm probably not going to be at all amusing at the moment (well, less than usual anyway) because I'm tired, dammit. I learned why they assign these problem sets for chemistry a week in advance (answer: because when you start at 9 the night before, it takes you until 2:30*).

Finally bought myself a mouse for the VGA LAN tonight, using money that I owe my friend Nick. It's for a good cause, Nick, I promise. Anyway, this is the first (of probably many) computer accessories I've purchased since being at school, so it was only once I returned to my room that I realized I had entered into an ongoing battle dating back the years of yore (that's the year Yore B.C., or B.C.E. for those of you anti-Jesus baby-eating satanists). This battle is, of course, that of MAN against ELECTRONIC EQUIPMENT PACKAGING. You know, that obscenely thick plastic.

Most containers with products in them have an easy way of being opened so that you, the consumer, can get at what's inside, the object you actually paid for, with relative ease. The obvious exception here is canned food, but there exists a device whose sole purpose is to open said cans, so that makes it okay (food for thought: without cans, a can opener has no purpose. Without a can opener, a can cannot realize its destiny. What we have here is a symbiotic relationship, one that deals in the very meaning of one's existence. It's a metaphor, man. A metaphor for life.)

So the nigh-impenetrable fortress of canned corn can be breached by a can opener, but there exists no such siege weapon for electronics-packaging. No matter what tool you use for the job, be it scissors, a razor blade, a machete, or a flame thrower, the matching is imperfect at best. You can usually get it open eventually, but only after some severe struggling, and sometimes after taking some fairly serious wounds from the heavy plastic's natural self-defense mechanism. It is a spiteful beast.

So, I bought my mouse and returned to my dorm. Only then did I realize the size of the task ahead of me: I had to penetrate this defense, and as a minimalist the only things I keep in my dorm room are the necessities of life (laptop, assorted personal hygiene crap, and Slim Jims). I realized after some analytical thinking that my best bet was my nail clipper, and ten minutes later I arose victorious. Hail to the king, baby.

In other news:

• I started learning PHP despite what I said last time, because I was not looking forward to rewriting the whole site twice, because this was the next logical step after CSS. I just skipped one rewrite, we'll see how that goes.



• I'm thinking about taking a minor in computer science, because as I think about becoming a physicist, the work of a theorist seems to appear to me more than that of an experimentalist. It would also make me into less of a poser, since 90% of the crap I know, I only think I know.



• The fact that I'm using an unordered list here makes me wonder just how much HTML blogspot is able to utilize. Hmm.

F	U	C	K
Y	E	S	!

*The fact that Alex regularly goes for days without sleep does not make me a pussy. Anyone who implies otherwise will receive a punch in the face in the mail. Not a fist, just the punch. Badass.

CSS? What is this magic?

When I was first given the duty of designing the Bleach website, I spent a lot of time on a number of different sites detailing how to get into web design. With a few tutorials and a lot of practice, I felt I had learned enough HTML to get the job done. The original site sucked, but a few weeks later Pedro, Alex and I sat down and cranked out the masterpiece of usability you all know and love.

Recently I had some time on my hands, so I figured I would go back and learn a bit more about the trade, maybe spruce things up a bit, clean up the mess of code I created and make it so that anyone viewing the source code wouldn't have their internal organs liquefied.

So I check out a few Intermediate and Advanced sites, and it turns out the entire idea behind this site is wrong. Huh.

Here's the idea: bleachfilm.com is made entirely with HTML, the backbone of traditional webscripting. This code doesn't provide many answers for layout problems; it's supposed to contain the content, and only the content. Layout is then handled in an alternate file, a CSS file (there may be other types, I don't know. CSS is the one I'm learning now), that then assigns presentation properties to the HTML that makes up the page.

Since I did not have this language at my fingertips when creating the site (note: this is why we never half-ass big things like learning web design), I jury-rigged the layout by using tables. Tables are generally used for presenting tabular data (please refer to table 2.1 in your text), but I stuck tables within tables within tables to accomplish such feats as 1) putting things next to other things (normally impossible in HTML), and 2) creating borders (that whole grey-square-inside-darker-border that all the content lives in? That's a table in a table in a table).

If you were to look at the source code of the site (not that I'm saying you should), you would see little more than table tags and font tags. Only today, reading up on advanced techniques, did I learn that you should "never ever ever use a font tag, because a slow and very painful death will undoubtedly follow". Hmm.

Armed with this newfound knowledge, I can go back and do everything correctly...again.

I'm also doing things correctly in the hosting part, this time. What you're supposed to do is keep a copy of the site on your hard drive, modify it there, and upload every time you make a change. This requires an FTP program that I didn't have. What I did in lieu of that was use the WebFTP server the host provided to upload and edit files. This is great, except that it makes it impossible to keep an accurate backup on your hard drive (it only deals in archives, and seemed reluctant to upload ones I made myself. Therefore, I could only go one file at a time). This worked fine, but if anything had happened and we lost data, our backup files would be weeks old. Additionally, if anyone was to try to log on while I was making changes, all kinds of crazy shit might happen.

So now I went out and downloaded my very own FTP interface, so I can update on Lappy, and then upload everything to the server, ensuring that my backups are always perfect. No crazy shit will now happen. All is well.

So, most of this week is going to be rebuilding bleachfilm.com, based on my newfound knowledge, to look exactly the same. If all goes as planned, none of you will have any idea that I changed anything, unless you looked at the source code (were you to do that, your eyes would bulge out of your head and the words "ZOMG OPTIMIZED" would appear in enormous letters, forever burned onto your retinas, so I don't recommend it).

Of course, ideally I would use PHP for the site, but no way in hell is that going to permeate my brains before this movie comes out.

Oh, something relevant to your interests: new Media content on the site, my cast interview. Not nearly as amusing as this here blog, but still, enjoy.

New improved Bleach- now with 500% more sound!

Okay, I just got a sampling of the musical score for Bleach. While I don't want to spoil what is bound to be an orgasmic auditory experience, I will say this: it's both oboe-licioius and xylo-tastic. Any man who uses these sounds when writing a soundtrack is fine by me.

At this moment, the more astute among you are losing your heads over the information I've just provided. "WHAT?" you undoubtedly utter, unable to comprehend. "I never saw a thing about music in the cast list! Not a mention in the cast-bashing frenzy 6 posts below! Who is this mysterious fellow who has prepared a tasty treat for my ears, hmm? I simply must know!" You then proceed to tear out your own hair by the fistful in your anxiety.

Calm down, ya freaks. Seriously. There's a story here.

So when we put Bleach together, we realized that we could handle most of the major technical stuff (shit) mostly through our own power. Alex is experienced behind a camera, and knows his way around editing software, while Ian has worked sound, lights, etc. before. I was able to whip up a website, with help from Pedro's graphic editing.

The only thing we didn't have was someone to make us some sweet, sweet Bleachy music. Among our friends and, indeed, all our acquaintances, not one can play a decent instrument*, let alone write and record an entire musical score.

Alex basically decided that if we were going to have some decent music without paying record companies an exorbitant amount that we didn't, you know, have, he would try for music from independent songwriters, who tend to be a little less exorbitant in their askings. Music was a major part of our budget, and it was going to be tough to make the numbers balance, but it didn't seem like there was another way.

And thus our hero quested for many days, braving the terrors of the internet and all the awful bands that are out there trying to whore themselves out. He searched for days, finding nary a decent singer, and was on the verge of despair when...

Alex came across a guy named Chris Caulder. He listened to some music, decided he liked (or, for all you young hipsters out there, "dug") the sound, and sent an email:

ALEX: Hey, I liked this one song of yours. Can I use it in my indie film? How much are you asking for the rights?

Not long after, he received a reply. The Reply of Ages.

CHRIS(not me): Sure, I love indie film, no charge. And actually, I'd like to score the whole thing for you, also at no charge.

So I cannot stress enough the following things:
1) How good the music is
2) How generous this offer is
3) How badly you need to check out Chris's websites. They are as follows:

www.themixtape.net
www.beautysconfusion.net
www.oustedproductions.net

Give the man your patronage, and remember when you finally watch the film who made it possible: the pleasant noises entering your ears, and the lack of red numbers in our budget.

ALSO: if you have any questions or comments about the film, leave a comment on this here blog, or a message on our Myspace.

*Note the modifier here. In the group, we had 1 trumpeter, 1 sax, and a trombone. So...if worse came to worse, we could create a movie with a Big Band soundtrack! Wouldn't that be GREAT?

Storytime!

It's been, what, 4 days since I've written about Bleach? The main reason being...there's nothing happening with it. Nothing big enough, at least, to require informing a) you guys and b) me. I guess Alex is heading back to Connecticut yet again this weekend (he's yet to actually have a college weekend) to finish up "stuff" (that's technical-speak for "shit").

It's extremely aggravating that at the moment I make a blog about this film, stuff (remember: shit) stops happening. If I'd made this, say, in July, or even the beginning of August, I could have regaled you with myriad fantastic and exotic stories about our wacky adolescent antics. Instead, you get fire drills and gummy worms.

Join me, then, on a journey. A passage through space and time, to a "when" that was considerably more interesting and a "where" that was considerably more ghetto-fabulous. I refer to our city of Waterbury, CT, and it was the end of June, just before our movie's first sex-change rewrite. I believe it was a Thursday.

The cast: Alex, Aneta, Nick, Ian, myself. Setting: cruisin' the streets of Waterbury in the Noble Green Beast (note to self: write post about car on a later date). Our intent: finding the ideal location in which to film the rape of Aneta's character. The first location we decide to examine: under the overpass by the high school.

On the way there, a conversation along these lines occurred.
ANETA: Let's go visit Marissa. Doesn't she live by the high school?
ME: Well, yeah...
ANETA: Then let's go.
IAN: But...
ALEX: Underpass...
ANETA: NOW, dammit!

And away we were.

(Important background information: Marissa is an ex-girlfriend of mine; forget "an", she is the ex-girlfriend of mine. We dated for nearly two years throughout high school, breaking up right at the end of senior year on relatively good terms. I will refrain from saying anything disparaging about her to total strangers, but suffice it to say that Aneta and Alex are both not big fans.)

We arrived at Marissa's house only to find that she was at work. Prepared to admit defeat, I moved to pull away from the curb, but was met with cries of protest from both director and writer.

ME: What?
THEM (humorously paraphrased): It's...beautiful...

And thus it was discovered that the ideal place to film a rape scene is Marissa's back yard, in front of her garden shed.

Before I realized just how serious they were, Alex and Aneta were out of my car and trespassing on Marissa's property, fully immersed in a conversation about just how to shoot this particular scene and keep Alex out of jail.

The problem is, the house wasn't empty. Marissa's mother had had an aneurism some 5 months earlier, and had just recently returned home full-time from the long-term care facility. I know this because her family and mine have a long, entwined history (note: explain this later too, maybe along with the car), and thus anything that we did that was seen by said resident (e.g. trespassing, illegal filming, raping a teen girl) had a direct route back to los parents. I also knew that it was impossible to get Alex and Aneta to turn down this perfect set that Providence had provided them (the hell do they care if I'm found dead in my bedroom after a particularly nasty bit of domestic violence?). What to do?

I had the car, so the remaining passengers and I took off.

ME: There. Let's see what they do now. Morons.
IAN: Yeah...what do we do now?

Naught but a minute later we were back, negotiating a compromise.

NICK: Now about we just go check out the overpass?
ANETA: How about we go to Cheshire and pick up some prostitutes?

And away we were.

And thus it was that we found ourselves on our way to Cheshire, the Connecticut equivalent of Mayberry (except much richer, and with a few more murderer/rapist/arsonists), looking for hookers we knew didn't exist, in broad daylight. It also helps that I had the most knowledge of our group about the geography of Cheshire, and even that is sketchy at best.

NICK: Why don't we stop for lunch?
ALEX: Know any good places, Chris?
ME: Let's just wander around downtown and see what we find.

IAN: This definitely isn't downtown.
ME: Wait a sec, Meriden? How long ago did we leave Cheshire?
ALEX: OH GODDAMMIT!

We eventually found a place to eat, a horribly obnoxiously painted pizza parlor (the entire exterior was a vibrantly striped red, white and green) with no other customers, a single waiter wandering around, and absolutely no light besides that which could find its way around all the drawn shades. The food, however, was excellent, and pretty affordable. Too bad none of us remember the name of the place, or have any idea where it actually is.

So after a full day of "location scouting", we decided to return to Waterbury and film the scene in my backyard.

All kinds of crazy stuff (shit!) like this happens while we're filming, and I wasn't even there for half of it. Maybe it's karma, which has it out for Alex for being an overall jackass. Maybe it's just the high concentration of crazy-people-per-square-inch ratio we maintain. It just never seemed to stop.

This is why you should be as excited for Drinking The Bleach: a Guide to Household Suicide* as I am: It's all about the anecdotes, baby.

More stories to come. Maybe I'll get a guest writer to tell about some of the better times I wasn't around for. Cheers.

*Once again, not the title of our book. Until you tell me, Alex, I'm gonna keep making up new ones.

EDIT: If you're liking the blog, if you hate it, if you just want specific Bleach info, feel free to post comments and ask questions. I'm itching to know whether we actually have readers or not.

Gummy Worms = Speed

What the hell? I have class early tomorrow, so I was trying to get to sleep for 1 at the latest. I ate one gummy worm around 12:30, and I'm flying high from the sugar at quarter to three. That sure ain't normal. I suspect that my confectionery annelids have been tampered with.

Halo 3 comes out in, what, 6 days? And Fallout 3 not for another year. Yet I'm so much more excited for the latter. Perhaps because I have no 360 within my reach? Perhaps.

Video game club met tonight- woohoo! College has been a greatly humbling experience for me, and I love it. Turns out, most of those things I thought I was good at? Mediocre, at best. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining: all the pressure's off, man. What that has to do with video games? I thought I was a gamer; the people I met tonight, 1000% freakier with respect to any and all games. I sure as hell didn't know any super-secret combos in SSBM, and I can't tell Street Fighter from Mortal Combat. I guess I'm not as big a freak as I thought.

The best part: Mr. Valedictorian, famous (not really) around Waterbury for having a brain; up here? Anywhere near top of the class is an impossibility. Even in physics, I'm definitely not the top guy anymore (freaky blue-haired kid has that one covered). There's a kid on my floor who taught himself multivariable calc while he was a sophomore in high school. No way in hell am I that dedicated. It's the middle of the road for me, for the first time in memory. I'm looking forward to it.

I guess I don't have any particularly special talents. Fine by me. Why'd I get involved in Bleach? It sure as hell wasn't because I'm an experienced producer, or even a halfway-decent actor. The best I had was a rudimentary knowledge of computers and an interest in web design just strong enough to get me to learn basic HTML. Nothing any normal person couldn't do, given a few hours and access to the internet. Yet it's probably my most significant contribution to anything to date, because it's something I actually give a damn about.

Who needs talent when you've got dedication?

The fact that I started being all subcutaneous (EDIT: I'm leaving that word in here, because it's just so hilariously wrong. I think I meant to say that I was being abstract. Nice one, Sheeks.) without even attempting to be funny signifies the detoxification of the deviant gummy worm. Time to go to sleep, so I can read this in the morning, make a stupid face, and erase it wondering what I was on.

I wish I had an alarm clock that wasn't a deaf-mute. If I had another alarm clock that was loud and retarded, they'd probably wind up as best friends, or gay lovers, or something. Name the book/movie. Hint: it's not Bleach.

Woohoo! Evacuation!

If I was in the fire department at Uconn I would probably kill myself.

Two days ago we had to evacuate our entire resident hall (at midnight) because someone's bagel bites burned and set off the fire alarm. I'd call him a dumbass if it wasn't a friend of mine, two doors down the hall. (I sampled the offending pizza bagels afterward. Slightly crispy, but otherwise delicious.)

Then this morning, in the middle of physics lab, the alarm went off and we were forced to evacuate the entire science complex, into the first downpour we've had all (2 weeks worth of) semester. Tiring eventually (3 minutes later) of standing drenched and unprotected in the rain, our class ditched and went to lunch. Woohoo!

Hence, how I came to my original conclusion. Being a firefighter, or a police officer, on a college campus has to be one of the worst jobs ever because of the sheer stupidity of some of the kids. I was annoyed at having to stand outside for half an hour when I could be sleeping (or playing Fallout); the fire-guys had to get up, get dressed in full battle gear, and get on over to our dorm only to find that the fire threatening the lives of students was actually a puff of smoke from an extra-toasty Bagel Bite.

And the science complex? It was also nothing big (though we never got a definitive answer as to what that nothing big was), yet the entire complex (which has, on an unrelated note, the WORST interior structural design EVER) had to be searched and secured, which would be why our 3-hour lab got canceled.

Not to mention the number of times kids who are either wasted or high do some seriously stupid shit. I would think that people in both departments have thankless jobs, and if I were in their positions, I would lose all faith in humanity (there's still a little left at the moment).

So here's my message to everyone who works on campus as emergency personnel: thanks for not leaving us to die at times when you probably should.

Thought for the day: You know you're a physics major if someone says there are 6 principle forces and the first thing that comes to your mind is "what a douchebag".

EDIT:
WHAT THE HELL?!?!
Mere minutes after I posted this, we had ANOTHER false alarm. While I was EATING. I was forced to leave behind some PERFECTLY FINE cheesecake. Is it me? It's got to be me. Three buildings in 2 days. That's not normal!

Minor Bleach Update

Okay, I was hoping for a fairly large Bleach update (Why? Because I'm a masochist, and I enjoy doing hours of tedious coding. You're not getting a better answer than that), but Alex didn't have much content this time around. Apparently things have been busy, which is understandable, I guess. Maybe I'm the only one bored out of his mind at college so far.

(Question: why do rock bands feel they have to include, in each album, a slow song? It's not like the people who go out and buy their albums actually want music like that. Grar.)

So the update is small, but still significant: we added an interview subsection to the Media area, and added a great essay by Nick Mastracchio about the nature of the "production bitch". Read it here. I think the plan is to add more such interviews as time goes on and Bleach: The Book* starts to come together. More to look forward to.

Speaking of looking forward to, I was IM'd yesterday by a fan living in Indiana by the name of Kyle, who is apparently intensely excited for Bleach. I have my screenname up on the blog for just that reason: if you have questions about the film that you don't want answered, I'd be happy to not know the answers for you. You can still IM me, in the event you want to meet someone who will never, ever be famous. It's encouraging to know we have fans devoted enough to actually make contact. (Note: if you actually have a question about the movie that you want answered, there's a Contact Us feature on the site that actually works. Feel free to use it, or leave a message on myspace, or anything at all.)

(SERIOUSLY, Rise Against, Breaking Benjamin and Skillet, my top favorites, are pretty hard rock bands, but they all have really slow, rather sappy songs that completely clash with the rest of their music. Rise Against is known for its songs about riots and bar fights, while Skillet's music generally has a lot of energy. Breaking Benjamin, who generally like to roar in most of their music, should never make a song called "Stay in Love Forever". I'm all for diversity, but...wait, no I'm not. Stick to what you know.)

In unrelated news, I hate Mondays, because I have class from 10 until 4. It truly sucks. On the upside, I've found that Engineering II, the building they never bothered to actually name, is a great place to hang out in those useless 1-hour breaks, especially when it takes you 20 minutes to get to your dorm from the science complex.

Halo 3 comes out in less than a week, and I find myself 360-less. Looks like it's time to make friends with that annoying kid on the 5th floor, who seems like he would be cool if he weren't too smart for his own good. He started talking about Alien today, and I felt a connection...until he compared it to a heterotopia, and the theories of literary critic Cesare Casarino. Don't you just hate that?

*Not the actual name. At least, it'd better not be. I'm rooting for Go On, Drink It, I Dare You.**

**Not really.

Give your babies SHOCKOLATE!

I'm the last person (with the possible exception of Alex) from my high school class that you would expect to see participating in college sports. I didn't play any in high school, because a) none of my friends played, and b) I sucked.

Now, first week of class I was approached by one the 3 kids up here that I knew and asked if I wanted to play intramural softball. I thought, "great! Now I'll have people that I know on the team, and get to know others, and I can get some amount of exercise to boot! Sounds like a winner!". Thus, I signed up.

Only this morning, before our first game, did I remember that although problem a) was solved, I still sucked. Well, crap.

I met up with the rest of the guys on the team (all of whom are at least a foot taller than me), and we walked over to the field. All the while, I was remembering traumatic sports-related events from my childhood: striking out in tee-ball, tripping over my feet playing soccer, and, most recently, taking a softball to the eye, just last year (and driving home afterwards, boy was that fun!). I realized the best I had to hope for was looking like a doofus who had no idea what he was doing.

Then we arrived at the field to find that we were 2 minutes late, and we were kicked out of the league. That fixes that!.

Whatever, I'll still go once we rejoin. I can always pray that by being around the rest of the team, osmosis will occur and their water-like talent will diffuse through our respective membranes, balancing out the concentrations (food for thought: does talent move via passive diffusion, or active transport?). If that doesn't happen, I can always burn my roommate alive as an offering to the softball gods.

Oh, aiming for a bleachfilm.com update tonight, assuming Alex ever sends me the damn content. Grr.

So yeah, this geek now plays on a sport team. My horizons! They've been broadened!

The Cast of Bleach

I wanted to devote this post to Aneta and Alex, the co-directors, co-writers, and co-whatever-else-have-you (co-parent? co-chief-resident? co-conut?), but the other cast members tend to get offended if we leave them out of anything, so here it comes: EVERYBODY, EVERYTHING. I no longer live in Waterbury, so if any of you want to kill me you'll have to go through the trouble of driving all the way out to Storrs. Totally not worth it.


Working off the cast list, which is posted here.

Joe Pisani is a thug. There's a reason all of Alex's movies up to (and including) Bleach have featured the mafia, and that reason is Joe Pisani. I first met Joe when he was a freshman, I was a sophomore; he was three times my size, and I was terrified of him despite his assurances that he would never harm a priest (Priest class ability: 100% resistance to all mafia-type attacks). Three years later, I can see that he's a big teddy bear, one that constantly smells like tobacco and wears a relativistic amount of gold chains (equivalent to .65 Mr. T's). Still, he does fantastic impressions, is the best improvisationist I've ever seen, and is overall a great person to have at parties, if not at, say, a poetry recitation. Joe's the other half of my co-producership, due to his contributions to the (what else?) mafia-related part of Bleach.

Annie Capobianco kind of sticks out among the cast because she is, essentially, a normal person. You see her and you don't think "yikes" or "what a nerd" or "what a pretentious bastard", you think "this is, undoubtedly, a teenage female. yup. no doubt about it" (note: this not the case if she is asleep on the hood of your car). Annie's into theater, having acted in every school play ever, which would be why she was drafted into Bleach. She tends to have a love-hate relationship with just about everyone I know, including me, which is a real trick. She was also a real sport about what we made her do for the movie, as far as actually doing it. Letting us use said footage is a different story. There might be something up with her, something dark and terrifying right beneath the surface, but far be it from me to worry about it until it surfaces.


Nick Mastracchio has a very nice dad who does not mind giving complete strangers pairs of his own pants. I'm wearing them right now. Nick used to be an enormous fan of Chile's, but we ate there so much during production that I think we snapped him out of it. He got into acting in Alex's last movie (which will never ever be coming out), and carried it into the school plays, where we discovered his perfect career: voice-over guy. Anything he reads (a script, a road sign, love letters, etc) becomes the sonorous version of hot sex. Yes, that is a perfectly normal and heterosexual way to describe another guy's voice. Nick can be a little whiny (sorry, gotta say something bad about everyone. It's The Rule), and moody, and obsessive, and he is far too good at Guitar Hero.

Shane Ferraro goes to Uconn with me. I have seen him twice since we've been here. I sat next to his roommate in chemistry. Shane is very tall. He likes Bruce Campbell, which is very cool. I dunno if you can tell, but we don't interact much.

Mike Diana is shaped like a pear. He is asexual, as well as ageless: 4 years ago, when I was a freshman and he was a sophomore, he looked like he was 40. Now, at age 19, he still looks like he is 40. My guess is that in 300 years he will still look like he is 40. He is every bit as Italian as Joe Pisani, and just as mafia-rific. No one knows what his distinctive accent is, himself included, but it is decidedly unreplicatable. His chief goal in life is to get me drunk, and he is a heavy cigar smoker. Nowhere else on Earth is there another Mike D, with good reason, and it's impossible to fully express his essence in written word. It can, however, be expressed in song, so keep a look out for the Mike D tribute album.

Mark Urbanski is someone I would never have wanted to talk to, had we not met while wearing the same doofy boy scout uniform. He's a, uh, 'straight-up gangsta from da hood', and his role in Bleach is basically how he really acts. He claims to be a miraculous skateboarder, but I've yet to see anything that someone with basic motor skills (not me) could not perform with ease. He starred in Alex's movie Shoes, the film that got him into a fancy art school that he doesn't go to anyway. Oh well. I saw Mark the other day in Gamestop, while I was in full geek mode and he was at his ghetto-est. We really broke a couple laws of nature when we became friends in scouts. However, I really like his car.

Emily Roy is a very nice girl that used to bum rides off me all the time last year at school. She's exceedingly tall, frighteningly so, but given (even more than Nick*) to spontaneous and violent mood swings. It'd be against the rules to have anyone normal on our cast. Low self-esteem? Overall insecurities? Something like that maybe, I don't know. Oh, Emily did a very nice job acting; she had to do a lot of improv and did it exceedingly well. She also named Jim, for which we must all be grateful.

*I've been informed that this is not true. Nick wins the mood swing contest, forever.

Jon Caporaso: I know absolutely nothing about this person.

Pedro Ondrush works a lot, so he was never filming on the same days I was around. Still, he's a cool guy, as far as I can tell; we were in the same classes for 4 years and all. He's like Annie in that with basically everyone he knows, it's a love-hate relationship. People tend to get pissed at him a lot, I'm not quite sure why. Despite the whole working thing, he's a supremely lazy ass when it comes to doing school work, but he's good at connecting with the teachers, which always helps. He did the graphic designing for the website, and while we were working on it at his house he gave me a rather tasty cheeseburger. I think that about sums it up.

Chuck Thompson and I were best friends when we were about 4. Now I'm closer to his younger brother, which is maybe a little weird. Chuck is the quintessential (yeah, I said it) underachiever: just barely graduated, huge partier, kicked out of college, lives with his parents and does a lot of drugs. Excellent. Of course, as people like that tend to be, he's also probably the single funniest person I've ever met. Unfair? Most definitely. What's even more unfair is that I know if I went that route, I'd wind up stuck as the creepy drug addict, who is no fun at all.

Joe Carusello once walked up to my mother and told her that she had a lovely son. He named our calculus teacher "Pucci". Evidence abounds that Joe is gay (Mike D tells us so), but there's something about him that suggests he is, in fact, a heterosexual (it's probably the guitar obsession. Note that Liberace and Elton John both went for the keyboard). He does have a predisposition to "gaily flitting about", but it is precisely this quality that made Joe the only logical choice to play Emily Dickinson in Bleach. We're all taking bets to see how long he lasts in college.

Paige Carusello is not in this movie, and we like it that way.

Leanora Megura isn't really part of the usual movie bunch, but she's a close friend of Aneta's, so we worked her in somehow. Bonus points if you can actually pick her out in the movie. She's definitely an odd one: I was quite honestly scared of her for the longest time (and to be completely honest, still am, a bit), which may have something to do with her multiple piercings and disastrously aggressive attitude. Just a guess. She has some kind of unhealthy obsession with my dog, not quite sure what that's about. Her favorite pastimes include drinking heavily and then calling my cell phone. Knock it off.

Jim is too good for my words.

Ian is a close friend of my brother Jon, and his role in the production of Bleach was chiefly technical. He did the sound for most of the movie, and he joined me in the crucial job of "showing up all the time". He worked hard to earn his title of "production bitch" (note: are he and Nick co-bitches? Or does Nick claim the title absolutely? We should hold a bitch-off.); you have to put up with a lot of shit before you get it in writing. He's a bit of a gun nut, which is understandable with his secret agent father, but becomes worrisome when you consider what an angry kid he is. I mean, his rage meter* is almost always shoulder height or higher, and that's just not safe.

*Located on your HUD, next to your HP. Foot-level is reminiscent of a sleeping kitten, while head-level transforms the player into a mindless berserker.

Aneta Klusak is in a whole new league of bizarreness (bizarritude. bizarritivity. bizarrisence). She's gradually evolved from your average goth into something simultaneously less demonstrative and more frightening (and animal-friendly), and we're still not sure what that is. All we (who the hell is we, anyway?) know is that she's made Bleach into the supremely screwed up (seriously) thing it is now. Think about it: this movie was originally your average crappy mafia action movie, and she went and added all kinds of freaky shit in there. Not normal, man.

But it's probably all the abnormality that gives her the certain something that lots of guys, apparently, want (either that or it's some pheromone she exudes). The vast majority of the males in the cast (all but 2, in fact) fell for her at some point or another. Yes, I was included, I'm not going to lie. Whatever her power is over men, it's not normal. It's not...human.

I should probably mention that she is the writer, and co-(or maybe sub-?) director with Alex, for Bleach, in addition to being the lead actress.

I'm not even going to bother with the psychological aspect here. Seriously. Not worth it.

Alex Yan and I have a really weird history that I honestly can't even remember most of. We were inseparable for most of middle school and the first year of high school, then I flipped out for reasons unknown (well, the only ones I remember are so completely lame I'm going to just assume that I'm not pathetic and there were better ones hiding in there, somewhere) and we didn't talk (seriously) up until the last week of school. Basically, this summer, we just picked up where we left off.

Alex appears to be really pretentious, but I don't think he actually takes himself all that seriously. A lot of the time he just doesn't care, about anything, (must be all the transcending, what's that about) which oddly enough sometimes makes him come off as haughty. On a probably unrelated note, he's one of those people that parents tend to hate. He once exclaimed "what the fuck" upon hearing a knock on his door that turned out to be my father. He managed to get himself more or less banned from my house, which is extremely impressive.

He tends to get away with some pretty outrageous shit, but one of these days charm and luck might not cut it.

Alex directed, edited, and actually shot the movie (John Wilkes Booth-style), and he's heading the post-production efforts, since he's the only one among us with any real idea of what we're doing in relation to the real world. Oh yeah, and he's a magician. Like...seriously.