Thursday, October 28, 2004
Just a quick update from a local web caf
Blah. I’m in a funk at the moment. It’s a combination of things, really: Last week’s cold is still hanging on with a few skeletal fingers, just enough to keep me down a little. I haven’t exercised in nearly a week. I’m not going to sleep until 2–3 a.m. every night, and the alarm goes off at 8:30, so I’m tired. Work is uninspiring. I’m in the midst of figuring out taxes for Otherspace Productions, and keeping all the employees informed. Ick.
And here’s where the VR story started to get really fun to write.
Doodlehopper stepped back, completely nonplussed, her jaw hanging open in shock.
“You couldn’t tell me that you wanted to go along, could you? No, you had to protect me from myself, like you’ve been doing all along. I had to be rescued from my own apartment. I had to be dragged to Safe House. I’m sick of it! I’m sick of being treated like a baby.”
Doodlehopper spun to face the door and Thomas grabbed her shoulder and said, “Don’t you run away—” But she was not running away; her every sense was attuned and pricked and straining. She turned and launched herself at Thomas, taking him down in a heap.
The shelves exploded in fireworks of
The glass drink cases began to shatter and the bottles inside exploded in neon fountains of overpriced sugar water, flooding the floor in a sticky rainbow. The lights went next, each one shattering and sparking at random. Then, finally, the thunder of gunfire ceased.
On the street outside, three men stood in a line facing the store. Kino, the one on the left, looked nervously at the man in the middle. Karl, the one on the right, looked with awe at the man in the middle. The man in the middle wore a trenchoat which billowed in the wind, and in each hand he held a machine gun one foot in diameter. His muscles bulged, and his nasty grin twisted the nasty scar that ran from his right eye down to his chin into a serpentine shape.
The man in the middle stepped forward, his weathered military boots crunching on the shattered remnants of the convenience store’s windows. He took a deep breath and yelled to the blasted wreckage of the store, “I am Grey Hackle the
I finally finished watching the animated Soul Music (one of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld stories) Monday night. Oh boy was it bad.
It was particularly bad for me as a nascent animation director. So much of it was good that the bad aspects jumped up and down screaming, spoiling the rest of the show.
The character designs were some of the worst I’ve ever seen, managing to be both plain and ugly at the same time. Worse, many of the shots were drawn in a terribly conventional manner. How to portray an emotional argument between two professors at Unseen University? Animate one guy from the waist up, talking to the camera. Cut to the other guy animated from the waist up, gesticulating at the camera. Repeat until the scene is over. Ick.
Worse, the characters are animated in a stiff, wooden way that I can’t think of a way to accurately describe. They often look like puppets, their legs and arms gesticulating akimbo as if barely connected to their brains.
But there were great aspects. It’s a story about rock music, and the music was amazing — perfectly capturing the spirit of The Beatles or the Stones at various times. The direction had some good moments. And most of the cast performed perfectly, particularly Christopher Lee as Death (no surprise there).
So really it’s a mixed bag. Some aspects of it are
If only I’d had the opportunity to make it…. <sigh>
Normally, I enjoy Presidential elections. I find the
But this is the first year in which I’m honestly sick of the elections. I’m tired of reading political screeds on TNH’s otherwise informative writing blog. I’m tired of folks ranting about Bush. I’m tired of people going nuts about every detail of Kerry’s time in Vietnam.
I want to know four things:
That’s all I want to know. Why are folks so focused on screaming about the other guy, and not praising their guy?
Feeling sick. Launched a new Otherspace Productions website and a subsite for Summer Storm. Actually getting a lot done because I don’t have to go to work.
Yes, this orange to which I’ve temporarily set my journal is kinda ugly. But it celebrates Hallowe’en, and that makes me happy.
Hmmm. Forgot to write a journal entry last night.
Yesterday was a bit of a blur, actually. I made some
I’ve been rather frustrated with my lack of productivity lately, actually. I have a few major things on my
Maybe I’m just ignoring my need for relaxation. Maybe I need to give myself some
And now, more VR story.
He heard the scuff of boot on concrete and looked to one side to to see Doodlehopper walking towards him. She gave him a smile and leaned on a large rack of servers, her hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket.
“Do you ever let me out of your sight?” he said, returning her smile.
Her face clouded and she nearly blushed. Her eyes went to the floor. “Gotta keep an eye on you,” she said apologetically. “I’d be a pretty lousy bodyguard if I didn
Hmmm. Forgot to write a journal entry last night.
Yesterday was a bit of a blur, actually. I made some
I’ve been rather frustrated with my lack of productivity lately, actually. I have a few major things on my
Maybe I’m just ignoring my need for relaxation. Maybe I need to give myself some
And now, more VR story.
He heard the scuff of boot on concrete and looked to one side to to see Doodlehopper walking towards him. She gave him a smile and leaned on a large rack of servers, her hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket.
“Do you ever let me out of your sight?” he said, returning her smile.
Her face clouded and she nearly blushed. Her eyes went to the floor. “Gotta keep an eye on you,” she said apologetically. “I’d be a pretty lousy bodyguard if I didn
Sometimes, I feel like I’d be a lot more productive if I threw out my projector and was unable to watch any DVDs.
I planned to do many things last weekend—paint more of my townhouse, read, bake—but, on Saturday, I popped in the Star Wars: A New Hope DVD into the DVD player and noticed a commentary track. Neat, I thought, I’ll watch some of it.
By Sunday night I’d watched all three movies all the way through, with multiple pauses to think about what I’d just heard. Heck, Irving Kirshner’s (sp?) commentary on The Empire Strikes Back was worth the price of the DVD set. Everyone involved reveals many fascinating aspects of storytelling. They explain their approach to the stories, how they resolved plot problems, neat moments that were though up while filming. I was entranced, and it was all very useful information.
But I got comparatively little done this weekend as a result. And, yes, it’s good to have more information, but information without action is useless. Perhaps if I’d only watched one of the films….
I did meet with the animators on Sunday, and things are moving nice and quickly. I think we should be done within the next month or two. I’ve already begun
I did have a problem: I’m kind of out of money. I paid up all my bills this week, but it tapped all my cash, and I had forgotten to fill up my Otherspace Productions account. So I had to hold back my credit card payment (I had planned to pay off a fair chunk of it; now I’ll only be able to pay a little more than the minimum) and transfer enough money to cover this week’s work. I hate being in that position.
But at least it’s working. I am getting animations made.
Okay! Okay. So I forgot to post more of the VR story on Wednesday, and then completely forgot to update this journal yesterday. I’m a moran.
A brief aside: Some of my readers may have noticed that I regularly refer to this thing as a ”journal,” not a ”blog.” I do this because I’m 0ld sK00l; when I first thought about an online diary, “blog” was a contraction of ”weblog” which meant a log of the web, literally a site where somebody would post links to new and cool things around the web, with minimal commentary. Plep is still like this. Sites that were primarily commentary or personal in nature weren’t blogs.
However, the term “blog” has now come to mean “any site where people post updates in a
Anyvay, back to things. I’ve been watching a fair amount of anime lately, out of a desire to get through the several dozen discs that I haven’t finished (or, in many cases, started). I watched the first disc of Chrono Crusade, which started out merely good and ended up quite impressive (as anime tends to be very good at doing). It’s a fun series set in the Roaring Twenties, but with demons and nuns that pack heat. Underneath that, though, glimmers a heartwarming story in Rosette (the protagonist) and the kind demon that she’s tamed.
I also watched the first episode of Gungrave, which is pretty much what I expected—slick and violent with a mysterious backstory, but nothing much beyond that. I don’t enjoy violence the way I once did. That said, it was nice to see that the series copies Yasuhiro (“Trigun”) Nightow’s manga style more closely than Trigun did. Nightow has an almost dreamy, intricate style to his artwork that relies on incomplete lines and an almost sketchy feel that is lost when TV character designs go for simplicity.
Another aside: When an anime is made of a manga, typically a character designer is hired. The existing manga designs are almost always far too detailed to be drawn over and over again by animators. The character designer takes the existing manga designs and simplifies them, using fewer lines but retaining the essence of the artwork. This can compromise the artistic style somewhat.
I also popped in my disk of
And now, more VR story.
He turned to her, lowering his voice to a whisper, and said, “That wasn’t an act.”
Her eyes widened. “What’s the problem?”
“I don’t know. Big guys keep coming after me. With guns. They’re trying to kill me.” He winced at himself for that, but even if Doodlehopper wasn’t willing to trust anybody, Thomas was. “I’ve managed to get away from them so far, but my luck will run out eventually.”
“Why?” she said, her voice perfectly composed but her expression intent on him.
“I don’t know.” She cocked an eyebrow and he said, “Honestly. My nose is clean.” That made him uncomfortable, too. He was pretty sure this had something to do with Client D, but what good would that do for Bright to know?
“And you want me to look into it?”
He couldn