Monthly Archives: March 2012
The Equinox Yoga ad
Parisian Women
I was in Paris last week. You hear a lot of things about Paris – City of Lights, Romance, food, and all that jazz.
And don’t forget the famed Paris women! Haughty, beautiful, knowing, with that mysterious je ne sais quoi for which they are famous. Everyone thinks that the French manner is a puzzle, as if they might possess something that is ephemeral and undefinable. At least, this seems to be the case in Paris.
I used to think this, until I read the little booklet that came with our apartment. This is was just a little primer for tourists: help with language, directions, and some tips on culture. One particularly strange thing that was in no other guidebook: it explained smiling.
“Parisians aren’t necessarily rude,” the guide explained. “They are just a little aloof. And they don’t like to smile. If a woman smiles at a Parisian man, he will likely take that as an invitation and perhaps follow her home. If a man smiles at a woman, she might be angry when he doesn’t invite her out for a drink.”
I think that explains the allure of Parisian woman. That reluctance to smile has made them unintentional fashion models. Have you ever seen a runway show? Those women look like they’re at a funeral, or studying for an exam. They look unattainable, and part of beauty is unattainability. I just wonder what happens if you’re from a culture that encourages smiling. Do Phillipina women run into a lot of trouble when they travel to Paris?
As for the diet thing – how women can remain slim despite eating fatty foods – that’s easy. It has nothing to do with moderation, and everything to do with exercise. Most people in Paris don’t drive cars. If you have to walk to the store, carry your groceries to the subway and up and down all those stairs, you’re using calories. It’s pretty easy to stay thin if you’re carry all those bottles of cheap wine. And nicotine is an appetite suppressant.
That Laugh – Gianna Michaels
When I first saw Gianna Michaels on screen, I first thought: Zowie, what a set of hooters! Then I thought: finally a woman who can replace that almost immortal porn star, Christy Canyon. Then I thought: that laugh could bring an army to its knees.
Yes, she is 5’10’, has beautiful pale skin, luminous sapphire eyes, and she has the sort of body that accidentally knocks over the knick-knack stalls at the flea-market when she walks by. But that laugh! It’s a fabulous, relaxed guffaw that she doesn’t use in every scene, but when she does the effect is devastating.
To me anyway, that laugh means she’s bringing the viewers in on the joke that is porn. She knows that she’s naked on camera doing these wild things, she knows that there are a whole lot of guys frenetically choking their chickens as she’s doing it, and with that laugh she’s telling us: “Hey, let’s admit this whole thing – this imaginary, panoptic relationship between me and thousands of people I’ve never met – is intrinsically silly.” That laugh tells us that sex is both simultaneously serious and ridiculous.
Then there’s the colour issue. Or should I say the colouring? Gianna is indisputably a brunette, not a primped blonde. She’s pale, with barely a hint of a tan. There’s an Irish Rose vibe to her that’s rare in a business that’s all about surgery and fakery.
I don’t expect Gianna Michaels to be around as long as Nina Hartley (although they do share a similar and relaxed manner), but while she is, I’m going to thankful. She’s something special.
Nine Zombie Novels you might (or might not) want to read
So here are some Zombie books, in no particular order. This is not a top ten list; this genre hasn’t been around long enough for someone like Stephen King to come along and write a definitive version. Hell, no one has written the worst zombie novel either (although some people make an honourable effort). I’ll just tell you if they’re good or not, and tell you why I think so.
PS. For the record, I don’t think this book started the zombie craze. Max Brooks released The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection for the Living Dead in 2003. The Rising was came out in 2004, and it has only a third of the reviews and a lower overall rating on Amazon than the Brooks book. I think Max Brooks started the Zombie craze, and with this movie he might be the last man standing when it ends.
Piranha(2010) is terrible at first. Richard Dreyfuss, channelling Hooper from Jaws, is fishing in a lake. An earthquake opens up a massive fissure to another subterranean lake, a terrible whirlpool forms, in which Dreyfuss looks like a photoshopped bikini top on a teen girl’s facebook page, and prehistoric piranha surge up and eat him. I almost stopped watching.
But in another minute, it’s Spring Break in Lake Victoria, Arizona, and the water is covered in douchey motor boats and girls in bikinis. There’s a plot somewhere: the Sheriff’s son(Steven R. McQueen) gets out of babysitting his younger siblings so he can work as a guide for a hyper-asshole pornographer (Jerry O’Connell, yes, that one). Meanwhile, said sherriff (Elizabeth Shue) has to control the drunken Spring Breakers and lead scientists onto the lake so they can investigate the quake. The son, his love interest (Jessica Szohr), the pornographer, and two super hotties (Kelly Brook and Riley Steele) head out on the lake to shoot a movie, and the Sherriff brings the scientists to the place where the earthquake rift formed. That’s the plot, but who cares?
What happens next is… astounding. It’s soft porn, exploitation, and pulp, all done on a good budget. People spent money on this thing, and it shows.
Before most of the gore, there’s the nudity. Both Kelly Brook and Riley Steele don flippers and nothing else and frolic underwater like two Sapphic mermaids. Porn star Gianna Michaels is dragged chest first through the water on a parachute ski, and the camera watches the action from below so the viewer can be instructed on the effects of high-pressure water dynamics on an F-cup. Then there is the initial gore: people getting chewed up and sinking below the surface; the odd body being discovered; and the scientist divers getting eaten when they explore the underground lake.
But the showstopper is the attack upon Lake Victoria’s harbour. It’s an astounding ballet of creative gore. The piranhas attack one thousand partying, sin-committing, half-naked and drunken teens. A square mile of water turns bright red. A woman gets scalped by a boat propeller. A beautiful topless girl gets sliced in half by a strung cable. Halves of people wash up on shore. And that’s not all! In one absolute treat of a scene, Jerry O’Connell’s character and his girlfriend are eaten. She falls to the lake floor, completely skeletonized as her breast implants float to the surface. His dick is eaten, and then regurgitated into the camera.
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The exploitation formula is faithfully observed. Only chaste caucasians survive. Anyone remotely slutty gets eaten, but the good news is that the actors portraying the sluts look like they’re having the most fun (Jerry O’Connell in particular chews up the scenery). Black characters die whether they are slutty or not, but they die nobly. The hero is always virginal, and saves the life of his beloved (who in this case tries to be slutty for a few minutes before vomiting overboard, as if she’s allergic to sex).
This is a great movie. I suggest anyone looking to watch a movie with friends while drunk should watch Piranha, hopefully in 3-D.
Review – Ted Bundy (2002)
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During his final interview before his execution |
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The movie goes into Hostel mode at times: during a musical montage number that chronicles his killing spree through the state of Utah, in a scene in which he carries a body wrapped in a sheet to his car as a group of students walk by with their dog, and while stalking and killing two women during one sunny day at the beach. At one point he is shot putting make-up on a severed head, in another he is seen relaxing in a sleeping bag with two rotting bodies.
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Michael Reilly Burke as Bundy |
The end is just as sensational as the rest of the movie. The writer and director departs from reality and throws in a posse of guards right out of Deliverance who hold Bundy down, shove several pounds of cotton up his rear end (“So’s you won’t mess yourself. They all do. You will too.”) and fit him with an adult diaper. Throughout, Bundy is so paralyzed with fear he appears crippled. The moment of execution is quiet – merely a hum of the transformer as his body strains against the leather straps of the electric chair. In a final stroke of pulpy rudeness, the executioner takes off the black clothe mask to reveal a stunningly beautiful woman with long raven hair parted in the middle. That was Bundy’s type, which he always sought when hunting his victims.
‘Incubus,’ the book and movie, and Scotch
WEDNESDAY, 28 SEPTEMBER 2011
Incubus, the book and movie, and Scotch
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Welcome to Devil in the Flesh!
The title of this blog has many meanings.
One, I suppose, is the movie Diavolo in Corpo, or Devil in the Flesh, an Italian movie that had a rare hard-core blowjob in it. These days that doesn’t mean a lot, but at the time it did to me.
The other meaning is me. Devil in the Flesh refers to the demon in me. We all have a demon in us. Why do you think Dexter is so popular? Viewers identify with a man who who feels he has to hide from a world that would never understand him. The trick is to realize that other people are just as strange.
We’re all strange. There’s nowt as queer as folk. People are strange when you’re a stranger. Look around you, and most of the media you see will somehow involve alienation.
So a little about me: I’m a man, a husband, a father of boys, a writer of horror, a reader of pretty much everything. I had a blogspot blog for a little while, but the meta-constraints I’d tied to myself were to constraining. I’d like this blog to really reflect how I feel inside. A bit of anonymity is very liberating.
So to start, a few images that really tickled me of late. Christina Hendricks, that Everest of redheads, and an incredible and anonymous young woman with an ass that would stop a missile.