All high end drinking chocolate powder is produced from crushed Moon rock brought back by the six Apollo landings. It is becoming very scarce and, as such, is the most valuable substance on the planet.
Its market value is such that follow up Moon missions are becoming financially viable.
Saturday, 8 October 2011
Friday, 29 July 2011
Acting out of existence.
Actors, particularly famous ones, do a curious extra thing when acting.
The whole acting thing is quite odd. To my mind, very few actors are genuinely good. Even a huge percentage of those lauded as 'great's are mediocre and generally typecasted into greatness, in my opinion. Since I'm not a film buff, I don't think my limited pool of favourite A classers is much of a proof group. So I won't name names.
But, the extra special thing that they all do I think is verging on paradoxical. It's not, of course, if you think in depth about it, but then if you think in depth about the whole movie business, it's all a bit weird.
Kids stuff. Very, very expensive kids stuff.
But what they all do, to a lesser or greater degree depending on their famousness, is to act themselves out of existence. But it's not a thing they try to do, it's a bi-product.
When they are existing as the character they are playing, unless the character is themselves, that character is existing in a contemporary universe which does not feature themselves, the famous actor.
You don't get Robin Williams acting a fairly standardly naive, pleasant, kind hearted, teacher/little boy growing up too fast/robot, constantly having to fend off autograph hunters:
"Say!...aren't you Robin Williams?"
"Nope, I'm Jack"
"You are!...You were Mork...I loved that. What ever happened to Mindy?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about, contemporary human"
"Aren't you Tom Cruise?"
"Tom what?! Look...I'm a little busy here saving the world from tripods/being a bar tender/fighter pilot"
"...I am a survivor living in New York City. I am broadcasting on all AM frequencies. I will be at the South Street Seaport everyday at mid-day, when the sun is highest in the sky..."
"Hello?....hello?!...I got your mes....FUCK ME! Aren't you Will Smith?! Sign my tits!"
They can't exist, or the story would be ruined.
And the thing is that this is an invisibly sliding scale. Unknown actors would not reasonably expect to be autograph hunted or paparazzied. But as their fame profile expands, however, their ability to act themselves out of existence increases linearly, presumably with no extra effort required. I don't think it takes effort, because I'm not convinced that they don't know they don't exist in their movie.
"I'm not me...I'm someone else. I'm there somewhere."
They're not.
It's like how, very often, the people on Eastenders are watching something on TV, but it's never Eastenders.
Eastenders does not exist on Eastenders.
...or maybe they recognise it for the crock of shit it truly is.
The whole acting thing is quite odd. To my mind, very few actors are genuinely good. Even a huge percentage of those lauded as 'great's are mediocre and generally typecasted into greatness, in my opinion. Since I'm not a film buff, I don't think my limited pool of favourite A classers is much of a proof group. So I won't name names.
But, the extra special thing that they all do I think is verging on paradoxical. It's not, of course, if you think in depth about it, but then if you think in depth about the whole movie business, it's all a bit weird.
Kids stuff. Very, very expensive kids stuff.
But what they all do, to a lesser or greater degree depending on their famousness, is to act themselves out of existence. But it's not a thing they try to do, it's a bi-product.
When they are existing as the character they are playing, unless the character is themselves, that character is existing in a contemporary universe which does not feature themselves, the famous actor.
You don't get Robin Williams acting a fairly standardly naive, pleasant, kind hearted, teacher/little boy growing up too fast/robot, constantly having to fend off autograph hunters:
"Say!...aren't you Robin Williams?"
"Nope, I'm Jack"
"You are!...You were Mork...I loved that. What ever happened to Mindy?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about, contemporary human"
"Aren't you Tom Cruise?"
"Tom what?! Look...I'm a little busy here saving the world from tripods/being a bar tender/fighter pilot"
"...I am a survivor living in New York City. I am broadcasting on all AM frequencies. I will be at the South Street Seaport everyday at mid-day, when the sun is highest in the sky..."
"Hello?....hello?!...I got your mes....FUCK ME! Aren't you Will Smith?! Sign my tits!"
They can't exist, or the story would be ruined.
And the thing is that this is an invisibly sliding scale. Unknown actors would not reasonably expect to be autograph hunted or paparazzied. But as their fame profile expands, however, their ability to act themselves out of existence increases linearly, presumably with no extra effort required. I don't think it takes effort, because I'm not convinced that they don't know they don't exist in their movie.
"I'm not me...I'm someone else. I'm there somewhere."
They're not.
It's like how, very often, the people on Eastenders are watching something on TV, but it's never Eastenders.
Eastenders does not exist on Eastenders.
...or maybe they recognise it for the crock of shit it truly is.
Saturday, 21 May 2011
...to rapturous apples
...so it transpires that whatsisface got it wrong.
The day after Raptor day, I'm clearly still here.
Typing.
Wondering who gives a flying jesus wept.
John Hurt.
Thing is, despite the number of followers - those that sold up and travelled, entirely of the understanding that they were spending their last hours on Earth - or the lack of followers thereof...it got the world discussing it. The futility. The impossibility. The unlikelihood.
What is entirely certain is that the world will come to an end. It simply will not exist for all time ever. The human species and its futile, impossible, unlikely beliefs will cease to exist, be it in synchronicity, or otherwise, with the end of the planet. You may or may not choose to agree, in the same way that you may or may not have chosen or chosen not to click the link and/or continue to read this. Whether it involves: jesus, earthquakes, angels, salvation, butterflies, dragons, black holes or ultra-dimensional super-astronauts is entirely irrelevant. There will be an end, and someone, a-split-second/day-or-two before hand, will claim to have predicted it. And they'll be right, because you won't have long enough to produce the evidence that they were guessing.
It was put to me the other day that the protagonists might have failed to factor in the days lost during the Julian/Gregorian calendar change. On a similar basis, there are doubts about the actual birth date of jesus, or even the existence of such a character at all, as well as the ability of previous humans to measure the passing of time accurately. Assuming the great flood happened at all, who on Earth is qualified to assert that it happened on the 21st May 4989 BC?! We can't even get the weather forecast right.
..but on the flip side, who's to say that the believers are wrong? I'm not in receipt of any specific proof that they're right, for sure, but what if you're right and they forgot the 11 days Julian/Gregorian slip?...or if jebus was born in October?....or those that chronicled the great flood didn't go on the piss for a week and forgot a day or two?...and did the great flood, if it occurred at all, only happen on a single day?...and if it's the planets aligning with the very core of the galaxy or universe, what is this?....to the nearest what? light year? Millimetre?
Who is more right to say it's happening today, yesterday, next week, or never?
You?
Me?
It's irrelevant.
Keep doing what you are doing, even if that is predicting the rectum of the apocralypse. Just don't be so sure that you're right, don't be so sure that someone else is wrong, and don't spend as long complaining about both parties as it took me to type this, a little worse for wear.
The day after Raptor day, I'm clearly still here.
Typing.
Wondering who gives a flying jesus wept.
John Hurt.
Thing is, despite the number of followers - those that sold up and travelled, entirely of the understanding that they were spending their last hours on Earth - or the lack of followers thereof...it got the world discussing it. The futility. The impossibility. The unlikelihood.
What is entirely certain is that the world will come to an end. It simply will not exist for all time ever. The human species and its futile, impossible, unlikely beliefs will cease to exist, be it in synchronicity, or otherwise, with the end of the planet. You may or may not choose to agree, in the same way that you may or may not have chosen or chosen not to click the link and/or continue to read this. Whether it involves: jesus, earthquakes, angels, salvation, butterflies, dragons, black holes or ultra-dimensional super-astronauts is entirely irrelevant. There will be an end, and someone, a-split-second/day-or-two before hand, will claim to have predicted it. And they'll be right, because you won't have long enough to produce the evidence that they were guessing.
It was put to me the other day that the protagonists might have failed to factor in the days lost during the Julian/Gregorian calendar change. On a similar basis, there are doubts about the actual birth date of jesus, or even the existence of such a character at all, as well as the ability of previous humans to measure the passing of time accurately. Assuming the great flood happened at all, who on Earth is qualified to assert that it happened on the 21st May 4989 BC?! We can't even get the weather forecast right.
..but on the flip side, who's to say that the believers are wrong? I'm not in receipt of any specific proof that they're right, for sure, but what if you're right and they forgot the 11 days Julian/Gregorian slip?...or if jebus was born in October?....or those that chronicled the great flood didn't go on the piss for a week and forgot a day or two?...and did the great flood, if it occurred at all, only happen on a single day?...and if it's the planets aligning with the very core of the galaxy or universe, what is this?....to the nearest what? light year? Millimetre?
Who is more right to say it's happening today, yesterday, next week, or never?
You?
Me?
It's irrelevant.
Keep doing what you are doing, even if that is predicting the rectum of the apocralypse. Just don't be so sure that you're right, don't be so sure that someone else is wrong, and don't spend as long complaining about both parties as it took me to type this, a little worse for wear.
Sunday, 8 May 2011
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