petronia: (fine time)
[personal profile] petronia
Kristin: the CDs came. ^_^ I was listening to them on the bus, two and a half hours out of Montreal and two hours back, though a more precise way of putting it would be that I fell asleep to them. ^_^; Tracklisting o kudasai!

Paintball. It's not that I profoundly hated it per se, but the activity combines basically everything I'm bad at into a single package, and has a steep learning curve besides. ^^; The first round of capture-the-flag we started at the bottom of a muddy slope and had to climb to get to the other base. It was raining in sheets, the visor was steamed up, my glasses inside the visor were steamed up, visibility was literally zero. So of course I rolled all the way down, fell into the creek and was promptly shot by one of the UML integration specialists. (Just writing it out like that makes it sound much more orderly than it felt at the time. I couldn't actually see anything other than a blur of green and brown, or feel anything other than wet. Wet mud, wet creek, wet logs in the creek that offered no footing. Combine this with the fact that I'm incapable of climbing any 45-degree slope or tree at the best of times, let alone while schlepping a rifle-thing that I can barely lift with one hand.) The second round it had stopped raining - it stayed sunny the entire time, by the by, one of those beautifully psychotic rainbow-filled summer days - but it was still hard to see, like wearing swimming goggles. This time we got the base at the top of the hill, so I just crouched behind a tree while everyone else crawled down the trail (and the Russian guy made a suicide run for the other team's flag). By that point I'd remembered that I react very badly to intentionally inflicted physical pain, even if it's on the level of getting flicked with a sharp pebble. By which I don't mean I get scared; what happens is I get extremely angry, am basically incapable of laughing it off, and what's more will hold a grudge wholly disproportionate to the level and context of damage involved. ^^; Thus, for the sake of workplace peace of mind, no more getting shot. ^^;;;

(I guess this can also serve as a sideways warning for RL friends, huh - no "joking" finger flicks or anything like that. The reflex reaction is something along the lines of a forceful kick.)

The third round we just tromped into a grassy field and essentially shot off the remaining "ammunition" at each other. (Paintballs have the exact size, appearance and consistency of bath beads, except they contain water-soluble paint instead of bath oil. I mention this because I can't be the only one who had no idea what the things looked like.) That was actually sort of fun, mostly because it was a lot of rolling about and crawling through hip-tall grass and wildflowers. I like to lie in the grass in summer, but my enjoyment is always ruined a little by the neurotic fear of getting grass stains on my clothes and ants up my shirt. However I didn't have to worry about the state of the camouflage suit, and it was a one-piece. ^^;

Sooo... damage incurred, a bruise or two here and there, and only one that's really paintball-induced. No black fly bites - that's the most fortunate part, as black fly bites make me swell up like a balloon, and they were buzzing around constantly in the Canadian summer humidity. But they couldn't get through the canvas-thick camo, haha. XD~ Slept all the way there, slept most of the way back, went to Fantasia in sopping wet shoes and socks. Got in forty minutes late and sat in the last row, next to a girl who (rather alarmingly) I now suspect of actually being Fujitani Ayako, as she disappeared halfway through to be replaced by Anno Hideaki's producer dude. o_O;

The movie was very art-house. Very auteur. Very intended audience of approximately five people, and by that I don't mean you, otaku-guy in the third row sheesh. Very pretentious voiceover narrative, extreme meta casting (Iwai Shunji's a real director - the guy who did Lily Chou-Chou in fact, a project itself not foreign to meta - and Fujitani Ayako wrote the novel from which the film is adapted), juxtaposition of video techniques, animated interludes (with creepy childlike voices courtesy of Hayashibara Megumi, natch)... In fact I'm not sure it had a theatrical run as such in Japan; it appears to have played at a visual arts museum(!). It's even got one of those patented "this is my reality! *applause*" Anno endings to which we've all been scarred into harbouring hostility. XD So I guess I have to take my hat off to Anno as a live-ac director now, because it had the potential of being so much bad wank, and instead was a beautiful and eerie film, with some truly haunting visual set-pieces and performances that pushed the envelope. The more I think about it the more I like it, even though the ending was way too pat (I liked the ending of End of Evangelion. I mean, taking it as the frustrated experimental art-house wank it is, in lieu of the giant robot anime it's supposed to be. Could you point that pitchfork somewhere else?). I'd watch it again, even if it's the kind of thing where missing the first forty minutes meant nothing at all. Even better yet, I'm going to see Cutie Honey tomorrow, which has the potential to be anything but experimental art-house wank. We'll see how that goes.

Question period had mostly Fujitani fielding in her very serviceable English (better than the handler lady's. Well, she is Steven Seagal's daughter supposedly, though dashed if I can see a resemblance ^^;;;). Producer dude took the mike for five seconds in order to announce (cheerfully, in English) that he didn't speak English, and that he would rely on the ladies to translate for him. One guy at the back asked a question about train lights, in - what else? - a French Canadian accent. Sorry, but would he repeat what he just said?

"There are these flashing lights--" guy waves his hands, visibly gives up. "Est-ce que quelqu'un peut traduire en anglais pour moi?" Rueful laughter. Another guy a few rows forward takes it upon himself to translate, like playing linguistic telephone down the length of the room. The question, paraphrased, is:

I notice that flashing red train lights often recur in Mr. Anno's work. They appear in Evangelion, in KareKano, and this film also begins with that image. Do you have any idea what their appearance might mean?

Actress and producer confer for a few seconds. Fujitani turns back to the mike. "Mr. Anno has said," she says, "that the motif of the flashing light represents the human heart."

(There was also a line in the film - in the novel? Where the girl says, "I like train tracks because the two rails never touch. Yet they are together forever, and are parts of one whole.")

Date: 2004-07-17 09:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] typhoid-mary.livejournal.com
Sounds like you'll never need this, but you could tell your co-workers: for foggy masks, start by cleaning them with toothpaste, then use a drop or two of defogging solution and rinse with water. You can get defogging solution at dive shops, or borrow some from a scuba diver.

On foggy masks

Date: 2004-07-17 10:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smurfmatic.livejournal.com
When I go diving, they teach us to spit on the mask, and spread it out. o_O So, apparently, it *does* work to keep the mask un-fogged (which is _quite_ inconvenient down the sea, rah).

-Ced

Date: 2004-07-18 09:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] canis-m.livejournal.com
Sorry for not including with the CDs, but if I have to write Japanese tracklists longhand, it adds another several weeks onto mailing time. =_=;

http://www.livejournal.com/users/canis_m/101690.html#cutid1

Date: 2004-07-18 02:50 pm (UTC)
dipping_sauce: (pretty but stupid)
From: [personal profile] dipping_sauce
Oh! Poor Sabina.

(There's a paintball place on the way to the library in LaSalle, so on occasion when I walk there I'd see these burst paintballs just scattered about the streets and sidewalks. Weird.)

You missed the court metrage, though, before the film. it was about a salaryman who was a champion at always finiding a seat on the Tokyo subway. He was challenged by a woman named Automatic Maria who was just as skilled in seat-finding (though she got the seat because she would jiggle her arse in peoples' faces until they made room for her). And then it was revealed that he was really former j-rock glam star Marilyn Denjobi (sp?). It was hilarious. I wish I could remember what it was called. (Ced? Tu te souviens?)

And the French->English->Japanese->English translation bit killed me. I meant to mention it in my review, but forgot.

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