L o b a B l a n c a {dot} c o m

Happy Ides of March, denizens! Watch your back and don’t trust your BFF Brutus today. Actually, don’t ever trust someone named Brutus. It’s a weird name and sounds too much like Bluto. Don’t trust people named Bluto either. Only trust Loba.

So I’ve been having a bit of a resurgence of horror love as of late, thanks in part to my DVDregs project as well as the discovery of a new podcast (let’s see how well my denizens pay attention to their surroundings; this new podcast recently made the list under “Sounds Sweet” to the right).

I love horror movies. I love the coronary jolt, the acrid tang of fear and adrenaline. I’ve been a horror fan since I was a wee pup. Back in the day, it was all about gore for me. I was mad into slasher flicks. Freddy Krueger was my all-time favorite at the time, simply because he was all about the gore and camp, two things that when combined provide an unstoppable tsunami of entertainment for those so inclined to enjoy such a combination.

Actually, Freddy is still pretty high on my list of favorites, but I think I’m far more apt to choose the original movie over any of the sequels. That first appearance of Freddy was so very dark and grotesque and disturbing. The guy was a child killer when he was alive, which is one of the darkest of all the criminal acts one can choose for their villain…something that I think is completely glossed over in sequels, which trade in the disturbing truth of this burned boogie man for the camp of one-liners like “Welcome to prime time, bitch!” or “Better not dream and drive!”

As much as I enjoyed watching Robert Englund chew the scenery like a pit bull on steroids in all the sequels (and, really, there is no other reason to watch most of the sequels than Englund’s performances as Krueger), it’s that first appearance of Krueger that keeps pulling me back. That’s the defining Freddy movie, the one that most deserves its place in the horror pantheon.

[I'm still flipping a razor-sharp middle finger to the remake, though. I'd rather be forced to watch one of those craptacular sparkly vampire movies than have to endure watching Hollywood botch up another of my favorite horror movies a la Zombie's Hallowhathafu.]

So what scares me now? Atmosphere. I think I pretty much pushed this idea home significantly in my Halloween posting from last year. Almost every single movie on that list was frightening because of story rather than how much red dye and corn syrup they used in the making of the film. Even the gorier picks from this list depend more heavily on clever writing than on the gore factor (okay, so Billy from Black Christmas isn’t the most eloquent obscene phone caller…I’ll give you that).

It’s atmosphere. I remember my first realization of this truth came when I was about 12 or 13 years old. I was well entrenched in my horror phase by this point thanks in part to cable television and the local Nightmare Theater movie presentation every Saturday (followed, of course, by Freddy’s Nightmares and Friday the 13th: The Series). That Halloween, the community newspaper ran a contest in which they asked their younger readers to submit a scary story that would be judged for inclusion in their special Halloween section. Prizes were involved as well, but I don’t really remember what they were.

I also don’t remember what exactly I wrote for my submission. However, it was something horribly slasherific, something trite and predictable. Something that to me, at that point in my life, possessed all the trademarks of great horror. Needless to say, I didn’t win. But to this day, I still remember the story that did win that year. It was about a harlequin mask. No blood. No gore. No death. And it was scary as hell. Why?

All together now: Atmosphere. Something like that crawls under your skin and sleeps there, not jolting you immediately, but slowly releasing its venom through your blood, where it seeps and trickles until it’s permeated through to your very core. That’s the kind of horror I find myself loving most now. That doesn’t mean that I don’t like cheap scares as well…but the cheap scares are transitory. It’s the deeper scares that stay with you, make you squirm over and over.

Know what one of my favorite examples of this type of horror in recent years is? 2008’s The Brøken. It’s all the things that instantaneous shock seekers abhor: slow, brooding, surreal, and stylish. Would I recommend this movie to most horror fans? No, not really. It’s a bit too avant-garde for a lot of people’s tastes, and there are admittedly several WTF moments in which it seems as though something integral was cut too close for editorial comfort. However, I still very much enjoyed this film.

Same with 2005’s The Skeleton Key. Again, not a movie designed to slam you with constant jumps and starts. But I found that it crawled into my brain and hung around for quite a while, bothering me with its simple premise and simply creepy ending.

I guess what I’m saying is that I very much enjoy scary films that tamper with my senses and my sensibilities. Cheap thrills are just fine, but give me a movie that’s going to leave me afraid to open a closet (stupid Ring) or make the natural settling noises of a building set my teeth on edge, and I’m one happy wolf.

That’s all I really wanted to write about. Sorry if you were expecting something a bit deeper. How about this? I promise a book review soon and possibly even another DVDregs review. Ooh, ‘citin’!

A Star Trek/X-Men crossover? Wouldn’t that be the most awesome thing ever?

Actually, no it wouldn’t be. Okay, sadly, I own this book. It’s sitting on my bookshelf right now. Mocking me with its blatant mediocrity. I have nerd shame about very little, but this book sends nerd shivers through my spine. And not the good kind.

Anyway, I whipped this up after random afternoon geek-dreaming in which I tried to figure out a way of fixing the X-Men movie franchise while crossing it over and tying it in with the aftermath of the TNG episode “The Host.” You know, the episode that introduced us to the Trill…and also introduced us to the uncomfortable realization that Beverly and Riker did the nasty, Trek-style (but only after Bev made sure Deanna was down with that).

No one checked with Professor Xavier…er, Captain Picard, though. I suspect he might have been a bit miffed, don’t you?

Like I said…silly geek-dreaming. Of course, this actually sounds better than that shit bog of a third X-Men movie that they actually made.

White Wolf in Snow by Acaciacat (click for link)

One of my ImagiFriends^TM, the multi-talented Tony, wrote the following sonnet for La LobaBlanca.

The white wolf waits in her cold winter cave
protecting her hoard of wet paints and pens,
knowing the stench of her insipid prey,
biting the vein of what they believe in.
Back in the woods where pollution can not
blacken and spoil the crystal-white snow,
she smiles at the stars children have sought,
litters the ground with perfect pinecone prose.
Other creatures scurry close just to hear
phantoms and fantasies worth embracing.
The delicious tone of her call so clear
giving voice to the continued beating,
the worldly pull of our Mother’s heart,
so full of life, reminiscent of art.

Needless to say, the White Wolf is both pleased and honored. I’ve had a lot on my plate and a lot on my mind as of late, some of which I have kept buried deep inside (the White Wolf is inclined to keep things mostly to herself, which even she knows is a questionable approach at handling life’s rockier terrains). To have received this at all was a delight, but it came at a particularly needed time. So, thank you, Tony. Thank you for thinking that the insanity that I help propagate through various online settings is worthy of such equally “perfect pinecone prose.”

How can one series hold such a wealth of happiness for one little geekling that just watching this video makes me all teary with nerd joy?

Watched this last night OnDemand and it’s been stuck in my mental theater ever since. I think this is one of the most wonderfully weird music videos ever made. All thanks to Christopher Walken.

Yes, dear denizens, it’s time once again to play “Where In the World Is Was Loba San Diego?”

(Thank you to those two Carmen San Diego fans who still laugh whenever I pull that one out of my hat.)

Snow wears you down, denizens. Wears you down and wears you out. If I have to haul another shovel-full of sludge, I might snap. So I packed up a ditty bag and rolled out for “The Happiest Place on Earth.”

North Platte, Nebraska.

I keed! I keed! I’m not even allowed in the state of Nebraska ever since that horrible corn husking accident back in ‘87.

…

Where was I? Oh, yeah…Orlando! No, not Bloom. Florida. Home of Disney World, which ironically I completely circumnavigated the entire time I was there. Any place that allows the congregation of that much “little people” energy is as scary to me as a crib notes-free palm is to Sarah Palin.

POKE THE BEAR!!!

I was a work stowaway, sneaking in under the watchful eye of others who had to work while Loba was there to play. It wasn’t quite as warm as I had hoped it would be, but anything above the freezing mark is going to be a marked improvement. Plus…I saw grass! And sunshine!! And I now randomly emphasize my words to sound more like William Shatner!!!

There’s something so comforting about Florida. It’s home to so many childhood vacation memories. All I have to do is get a whiff of that sulfur-scented water and I’m right back at 10 years old, brushing my teeth at the latest Days Inn we’ve stopped at for the night (because at Days Inn, Kids Eat Free!), getting ready for bed but too wired to sleep because I know in the morning, we’re going to ___________________ (insert any random Florida attraction name in blank)!!

For this trip, I went back to one of those attractions that my dad took us to that I don’t think I truly appreciated at the time: the Ringling Museum. Yes, the Ringling of Ringling Brothers circus fame. John Ringling, to be precise, and his lovely wife Mable. It’s a strange destination, I know, but my family has a special relationship with the circus (anyone cracks a bearded lady joke here and your ass is grass). Plus, in addition to circus museums, there’s a huge art museum, beautiful gardens, and the Ringlings’ house, Cà d’ Zan, which translates as “House of John” in Venetian. This house is gorgeous. You’ll see what I mean in a moment.

So bright and early on Tuesday, I packed up the rental (nowhere near as cool as Sammy, but it sufficed), and headed off to Sarasota. I love long drives, so I was definitely up for the 2-hour trek from Orlando. Besides, how can you not love a drive that takes you past Dinosaur Land? I wish I’d had my camera out to snap some shots for you of the giant imposing dinosaurs posed along the highway. It’s that kind of kitsch that lets you know without a doubt that you are indeed in the Sunshine State.

I started my tour of the Ringling grounds around 10ish and didn’t leave until around 3ish. And I still didn’t see everything. I don’t think it’s actually possible to see everything there in one visit though. Of course, I am also the person who has yet to see everything at the British Museum, yet I’ve been there three times.

This was also the first snow-free time I’ve had a chance to try out my new “Big Girl” camera. I used it mostly to take an architectural study of the house itself. But I took some photos around the grounds as well as around the outside of the art museum. I’ll refrain from boring you to tears and simply post my absolute favorites from the day:

Isn’t that horse head shot awesomely disturbing? Or disturbingly awesome? Whichever, I absolutely loved it. Oh, and the second image? That’s using the telephoto lens to get a shot of the design that goes around the top of the Belvedere Room, which is the very tip-top room of the mansion. Not a bad lens. I took about 70 shots in total throughout the day. So choosing was a difficult task. I have several others that almost made the cut. Maybe I’ll set up a Flickr account for the overflow…

After my three-ring circus afternoon, I headed back up the interstate, swinging by to visit with my ImagiFriends^TM at Castle Marius. Lightsabers and phasers may have been involved. As were cats. And possibly blood wine. I’m not allowed to say anything further by orders of the Admiral. Needless to say, it was the perfect ending to an awesome non-snow day.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end (so sayeth the final episode of TNG). So away we went yesterday afternoon, leaving on a jet plane that brought us back. To snow. I was strangely surprised to see so much still on the ground. I guess I was hoping/wishing it would all just melt away like the Wicked Witch. Instead, I’ve heard rumors that more is on its way next week.

Think I can get a flight out to somewhere else warm before then?

I’m foregoing Flashback Friday this week, denizens. Today was hella busy at work (it was the first day back in the actual office since last Friday), and the more I thought about writing a flashback, the more irrationally irascible I became. So instead I’m posting my latest Gates McFadden/Beverly Crusher-inspired PhotoShop trickery.

Do I really need to say how much this poster delights me? If only this had been the movie Cameron made…

Oh, and you can see ZomBeverly here, in case you missed her the first time around.

Uh…so I have a lot of spare time on my hands lately. First, it was Puppy Bowl on Sunday. Why did no one tell me about Puppy Bowl before? I now randomly yell “Puppy Touchdown” for no apparent reason and now have something to make Toilet Super Bowl Sunday more palatable.

And today, while scrubbing listservs and updating code, I streamed this:

Streaming live video by Ustream

Could there be a cuter Webcam? I’m sure it’s got quite the short shelf life, but I’m enjoying it while it’s here. You should, too!

PUPPY TOUCHDOWN!

Remember all the times that I’ve talked about the English singing sensation known as Craig Bevan?

No?! Why not? What, do you think I type things here for my own personal amusement?

Okay, don’t answer that. Just go here and here so you can catch up with the conversation.

Finished? May I continue now? Okay, good. So this is what’s happening now with the Fabulosity Known As Bevan:

Local talent shines in the UK’s biggest original music competition.

Craig Bevan from Leeds has wowed the judging panel and sailed through the audition stage of Live and Unsigned. Craig will now be competing against the other most talented bands and artists in the country at the live shows of Live and Unsigned 2010 – all in a bid to be signed!

Craig battled against hundreds of auditionees to secure a spot in the live shows and now has the opportunity to prove that he is the best in the region. Acts that have made it through auditions will now take part in a live head to head battle in front of thousands of spectators and a professional judging panel to progress to the Live and Unsigned Festival at the 02 in London.

Live and Unsigned is the biggest original music competition in the UK for unsigned bands and artists. Attracting over 30, 000 entries in the past three years, it has set itself apart from its predecessors by offering and promoting originality. It’s now established as the definitive music competition for original acts and is open to all genres of music from Heavy Rock to Rap.

Chris Grayston, Events Director of Live & Unsigned explains “This competition really is worlds apart from X Factor and other TV talent contests – we’re all about originality, Live ability and credibility. We don’t accept demos or submissions and everyone auditions live. We’ve got some fantastic prizes up for grabs this year in a £60, 000 prize pool so there’s a lot of opportunity for everyone entering and not just the winners – that, along with the Festival means 2010 will be the biggest competition yet!”

All the acts that audition in the competition are battling it out for the chance to play at the Live and Unsigned Festival at the 02 in London! Which gives acts the chance to perform at the ultimate live music venue in the country. The overall winner of the competition is offered a recording and management contract with Future Music with an investment of up to £30, 000 to release their single. The winners will be crowned the UK’s best unsigned act in front of a capacity crowd on the main stage of the festival. A&R and celebrity judges last year include former Sex Pistols Manager Malcolm McLaren, pop RnB star Dane Bowers and Radio 1’s Annie Nightingale. Radio 1 DJ Greg James has already confirmed for 2010.

Acts will of course be competing for two main prizes, which include a management contract with Future Music and the opportunity to design and develop their own clothing range with Extreme State. On route the competition offers a comprehensive winners prize pool and acts will have the opportunity to win some fantastic prizes including Marshall state of the art amps, development through recording studio time in some of the UK’s finest studios and seminars and courses with ICMP. Other goodies up for grabs include an Extreme Element experience day, a year’s worth of Extreme State clothing and MUZU.TV will be contributing an all expenses paid trip to Dublin to film a music video and play at a festival.

Previous winners of the competition include Kiddo 360 who went on to pick up a Vodafone Live Award, B-Kay and Kazz who broke into the top 30 charts and last year’s winners from Glasgow The Detours who have just signed an exclusive clothing deal with Extreme.

The winners of 2010 will be thrust into the media spotlight through television, radio and the press and will have the opportunity to tour the UK. The tour involves as many as 100 gigs across the UK including the chance to perform live at some well-known festivals. One contestant who has caught the judge’s eye this year is local talent Craig Bevan, now competing in the Regional Final. Craig made it through the auditions at The Willows in Salford, Manchester amongst hundreds that queued for their turn in front of the judges. Craig is now preparing for the live show on the 7th of March at The Willows for the opportunity to progress towards the Live and Unsigned festival at the O2 in London.

For more information go to the website www.LiveandUnsigned.UK.com. Or better still come down and support local talent; you can purchase tickets on the door or from Craig personally.

See? I told you that Craig was destined for wonderful things. I have unwavering faith that he is going to rock this contest like it has never been rocked before. His voice is pure wonder and his soul is pure gold. He’s going to give incontrovertible proof that nice guys can and will finish first.

So what can you do, dear denizens? If you’re across the pond where all this excitement is going down…well, first off, the white wolf is an unflattering shade of green right now. Since I can’t be there to support Craig, I’m putting it to you: Go, get your tickets, and watch him perform. Scream for him like the groupies you know you are. And if anyone tells you to pipe down, you tell ‘em LobaBlanca sent you. That and a 20£ note will hopefully get the bouncers off your back (I’ll pay you back later, I promise).

Seriously, though, if you can support Craig when he performs on March 7, please do. He is all-around amazing in everything he does, but especially when he sings. And he is one of the kindest, funniest, sweetest guys out there. If anyone deserves this, it’s Craig.

So sayeth Loba. And you know Loba would never lie to you when it comes to Bevan.