While I’m doubtless headed straight to hell myself, for those still in reach of salvation, check out Dr Kraw’s Guide to Better Living for Young Adults at Risk. As the good doctor says, “A ‘comdom’ [sic] (rubber prophylactic), is no protection of your morals!” And remember, “‘Rock And Roll’ is an enticing and exciting form of ‘Music’, BUT: It contains secret messages from the DEVIL HIMSELF!”
“What would your mother do if she knew you were giving your soul over to Beelzebub?” Mom?
To continue being a whiny bitch: yesterday, while at the gym, I threw out my neck. Mid-way through a heavy leg press, my phone rang; apparently, a sudden head motion while straining every muscle in your body isn’t a good idea.
On the plus side, I’ve now picked up a great set of Mr. Roboto-esque moves involving turning my entire body rather than simply my head any time I need to look to the side. Sort of retro ’80s breakdance chic.
Producing movies isn’t for the faint of heart. At least twice a week, I’m thoroughly convinced that I Love Your Work is going to fall apart horribly, to thoroughly deconstruct. And, at least twice a week, we miraculously cobble together a solution, keep cranking ahead, and continue to create scene after scene of beautifully shot film.
Yesterday, while viewing the footage from the third week of shooting, I suddenly realized that the efforts of our phenomenal cast and crew have been paying off, as we’re making a really, really good film. And I similarly realized that I might never be able to fully enjoy it, as the mere sight of some scenes might send me flashing back on the various disasters along the way.
Films, it seems, ought to be lumped into the old adage with sausage and legislation: enjoyable in the end only so long as you never watch them being made.
Since entering the world of film, I’ve been lucky to meet a fairly wide array of stars – from those in our own film, to the cast of Lord of the Rings, with a slew in between. And none of them, none of them, have made me half as excited as Leif Tilden.
I’ve actually known Leif for about a month, as he’s the location manager on I Love Your Work. But just this evening, over drinks, I discovered that he played Donatello in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie (and its sequel), as well as Robbie Sinclair in the TV series “Dinosaurs”.
Holy crap that’s cool.
While I have, on occasion, doubted the importance of what I learned in college, over the last 36 hours, at least one lesson has truly been applied: the art of the all-nighter. Having woke yesterday at seven in the morning, I found myself working nonstop until seven this morning.
Three blissful hours of sleep, and I’m ready to start the 24-hour cycle again.
The dangerous end result of a dramatically dipping readership in a previously well respected publication: exhibit A.
“All the conditions necessary for murder are met if you shut two men in a cabin and leave them together for two months.”
— Russian cosmonaut Valery Ryumin
Or if you shut three men in a cramped two bedroom apartment, force them to share one car, and have them work long hours together in high stress situations seven days a week.
It is truly a remarkable thing that neither I nor either of my two Cyan colleagues have tried to stab each other’s eyes out with a pencil. I believe it bodes well for the long-term success of the company.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by futurism – examining the state of the world and the trajectory of today’s emerging trends and technologies in an effort to map out a range of possible futures. So I have been particularly enjoying two books I recently picked up, The Next Fifty Years and What’s Next?
The first is a collection of essays from 25 of the world’s leading scientists, with each of whom looking ahead at the progress and impact of their respective field in the next fifty years. (I am particularly proud to say that two of my favorite Yale professors, Paul Bloom and David Gelernter, are included in the book; more importantly, they live up in their writing to the exceedingly high standard they set in their classroom lectures and discussions.)
The second is a slightly shorter-gazing attempt, looking ahead just ten years, but compiling the thoughts of 50 more broad-ranging thought leaders (economists, historians, inventors, scientists, artists) on a truly comprehensive array of topics (economics, geopolitics, culture and societies, belief systems, technology, science, environment and civilization).
While there’s plenty to disagree with in both books, either one certainly provides quite a bit of bang for the buck in terms of thought-provoking mental stimulation. If you feel as though it’s been a while since you thought as hard as you could, pick up both, and give your brain a jog. I’m certainly enjoying it myself.
As I was relaying the ongoing melodramas of shooting I Love Your Work to my parents via phone yesterday, my father observed that success at producing films, like in so many other endeavors, seems to very much hinge on knowing lots and lots of people. With which I whole-heartedly agree. I’m the first to admit that whatever small successes I’ve achieved in my life have almost invariably been the result of being able to pull the assistance of others at key moments.
As a result, I take my contact list fairly seriously. Which is why I’m particularly thrilled to say that I’m about to cross the two thousand contact mark. That’s right, two thousand contacts. Two thousand people I know well enough to trade emails with at least once every six months (my minimum requirement before pruning people from the database).
Which, I think, is pretty good. But it’s all relative – I’ve been told that Bill Clinton, while Governor of Arkansas, had a contact base of some twenty thousand people that he drew upon regularly. I’d better get moving on shaking hands and kissing babies if I ever intend to catch up.
As any of my friends would attest, normally, I am the very dictionary definition of commitment-phobia. So, it is exceedingly indicative of the strength of my previously mentioned crush that I am beginning to see actual long-term potential.
In fact, I suspect she is too, as between standard conversation and flirtation, she has been slipping in relationship logistics questions: What time do you like to go to sleep and wake up? or On a vacation weekend, would you rather head to the mountains or the beach?
Exceedingly promising signs, yet as neither of us appears to have the cajones to acutally make a move, we are trapped indefinitely in an ongoing relationship circling dance. Note to self: stop being such a pansy and close the deal.