Netflix

  • 27 Dec

    Chip of Love

    A company comes out with a chip you implant on the inside of your wrist, and when your true love gets a chip as well, a clock on both begins ticking down the time until you first meet.

    That’s the premise of the movie “Timer” which examines the struggles of people navigating a world in which a computer is basically telling them whom to love.  The results vary widely, from one woman whose clock shows she won’t meet her man until she’s in her 40s to a 14-year-old kid whose chip reports he will meet his future wife almost immediately.

    The movie (available on Netflix instant) brought up a lot of questions, mainly would you want to know? How much of that experience is the search, the trials and errors, the hopes and disappointments that make you appreciate someone in a way you wouldn’t without that journey? (Of course speaking entirely hypothetically since as a single guy I can’t actually attest to that.)  Those failures shape us, and make us the person we are when new people come into our lives, and when that “one” person shows up, it seems like we should aspire to have been affected in ways that crystallize that self.  To quote an Adele song, “Regrets and mistakes, they’re memories made.”

    If there’s a display on your wrist that says you have four years until you meet your match, you might be inclined to close yourself off and eschew any relationships.  But that’s another question — should you?  Is it “cheating” if you carry on a relationship knowing that your true love has been identified and is not that person?  Does it matter if the clock says four days instead of four years?  The characters in the movie are mixed on this one, but the ones with longer countdowns are more inclined to date other people.

    Another issue is that not everyone has a chip.  At $79.99 to install plus a monthly fee, it’s not possible for everyone to get one, but there are also plenty of people who willingly choose to do without one.  They hate the idea of turning over that bit of humanity to a computer, or don’t trust that the system is actually producing the result it claims.  After all, how much of the “success” is that people want to believe it works?  If you get a chip then you are predisposed to buying in, so when the chip says the person you just passed in the grocery store is your future mate, you aren’t going to question whether that should actually be the case.

    At best, it’s a comfort knowing that there is in fact someone out there who will love you.  At worst it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy that ultimately alters the entire future of the world by pairing together people who would otherwise never be in a relationship. 

    For the characters with no reading on their clock, and even some with many years left to wait, the reactions they face are actually much the same as those experienced by people in real life whose friends and family have all gone off and gotten married.  There are the platitudes of “it will happen one day” and “they’re out there somewhere.”  The main character’s mother can’t help but try to set up her daughter with man after man in hopes he’ll be the one.  They are more likely to be the doubters, whether through frustration of seeing no results or not wanting to believe in a system that would make them wait so long to find love.  And yet at the same time, they’re faced every day with people close to them espousing the benefits of the same system and showing how happy they are with their love.

    Then there are the couples who got married outside of the system — the old-fashioned way, with no technology telling them which person was right for them.  What if they get chips?  Is it worth the risk of the incredibly low odds that you actually picked the right person, or is it imperative to know whether there’s a more-right person out there?

    I guess it just comes down to the original question — would you want to know?

  • 09 Sep

    That’s Sick, Yo

    Sick days were much cooler in elementary school.

    Back then it was downright exciting to get to stay home and spend the day with your good friends the couch and cable television. It wasn’t every day that I got to catch up on my Gilligan’s Island, Andy Griffith Show or Wings.

    Though judging by the list of shows I remember, it is clear that even in the era of the burgeoning cable universe there was not much for a 10-year-old to watch during the day. Fortunately, Mom must have understood that because multi-day sicknesses sometimes featured some sort of video rental to help us pass the time.

    I remember being entertained on one sick day by the classic film “Hot Shots! Part Deux.” Thanks to the wonders of technology (mainly Netflix streaming) I was able to once again utilize such an amazing tale to get me through a less-than-healthy day.

    It is odd what small details from your life you remember. I recall another sick day (maybe the same one, who knows) that involved drinking some Sprite. For some reason I had my “baseball books” on a table next to the couch as I recovered from some illness. The “books” were three-ring binders filled with my baseball card collection. Most were just plain-colored binders, but one had a snazzy baseball-specific design and a plastic cover on the outside.

    There was some kind of stain or mark on the plastic, and being the genius I have always been, I decided to use some of the Sprite to get it off. Apparently getting up to get some sort of wet paper towel was out of the question for this operation. The result, of course, was a sticky film where the mark used to be and I had to get the paper towel anyway to get that off.

    I had something else to add here, but can’t for the life of me remember. I blame/credit Nyquil, nectar of the cold-having gods. It also gets credit if none of the above made any sense.

    By cjhannas home Netflix Uncategorized
  • 14 Jan

    And the Oscar Goes To…

    We are about two weeks away from the Oscar nominations, a chance to debate the year that was in movies.

    Thanks to Netflix, I think I saw no more than two movies in the theater this year. But also thanks to Netflix, I will be able to catch up on all the best films once they hit DVD.

    The other day I watched The Reader, one of the five films nominated for Best Picture last year. The others, in case you have forgotten, were Frost/Nixon, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Milk and winner Slumdog Millionaire.

    Having seen all except Benjamin Button, I can say I am glad I didn’t have to cast a vote in that category. I still agree with the Slumdog pick, but any of the others are a great way to spend a few hours. Throw in Changeling, Rachel Getting Married and The Wrestler and we’re talking about a stellar year in film.

    The previous year was also strong with Best Picture nominations going to Juno, Michael Clayton, Atonement, There Will Be Blood and winner No Country for Old Men. There weren’t as many top flight films, especially compared with what we got in 2008.

    Then again, 2007 did bring us The Simpsons Movie and Superbad.

    The latter I saw at 10:45 a.m. in a theater that featured myself, my brother and three other adults. Before our show, they had some sort of discount children’s movie day. The place was packed to the gills with little kids and their parents.

    As soon as they filed out of the theater, we started to go in just as everybody does when the previous showing lets out. We were downright yelled at by a theater employee who said we couldn’t go in yet. He even went as far as putting up a little rope to prevent five adults from disobeying his verbal warning.

    Then again, he did have to clean up tons and tons of spilled candy/popcorn from all those damn kids.

  • 21 Oct

    If You Say So, Netflix

    Netflix is my friend.

    At least, it’s trying to get to know me and give advice to improve my life.

    That’s what led to today’s recommendation — The Crow — which Netflix served up to me in a category called “Visually-striking independent films.” How very specific of them. Of course they had to base that recommendation on something, and in this case it was my high rating of Rachel Getting Married and Slumdog Millionaire.

    I would make more fun of them trying to guess what I would like, but they happen to be right a lot of the time. Even when it comes to movies they don’t think I’d care for, they have those ranked appropriately.

    Take for example the list of movies released in the last month. Netflix says I would give 5 stars to 30 Rock: Season 3, 4.25 stars to both Man vs. Food: Season 1 and Waltz With Bashir. I can confirm that I thoroughly enjoy the first two, and I’m pretty sure I’d like the third.

    But the system isn’t perfect. It puts Best of SNL: Amy Poehler (3.25) far too close to The World According to Miley Cyrus (2.75). Barney Fun on Wheels (2) isn’t all that far behind, though Netflix is correct that I’d be much more likely to watch a singing Miley than a singing purple dinosaur at this stage of my life.

    It even gives a suggested rating for movies that haven’t even hit theaters yet. I’m happy to report Netflix thinks I would really enjoy Boondock Saints 2: All Saints Day. Considering that learning of this movie’s existence was the highlight of that particular day, I’d agree.

  • 03 Sep

    You Look Like Someone I Know

    Thanks to my friends at Netflix, my Wednesday night was spent with a wonderful movie spoken exclusively in French.

    Fortunately, “The Class” had English subtitles so I could actually follow what was going on. It also had a lead actor who looked far too much like my roommate from freshman year of college.

    For those of you who didn’t live in at Susquehanna University’s Smith Hall room 315, here’s what my roommate Shawn looked like.

    Of course, that Shawn is not to be confused with the other kid named Shawn I lived with for the other three years at SU. For clarity sake, I’ll refer to them as Shawn R. (freshman year) and Shawn L. (sophomore, junior & senior years).

    Life with Shawn R. was definitely an experience. When we first talked on the phone a few weeks before we moved in, I quickly figured out we weren’t really running in the same circles. He asked what stuff I was planning on bringing and I mentioned my Sega Dreamcast.

    “What’s that?” he asked.
    “It’s a video game system.”
    “Oh.”

    The biggest thing you need to know about Shawn R., he was very neat. I mean, I may be considered a neat freak by regular standards, but living with Shawn R. made me feel like a slob.

    He was also from Maine, which meant that on short breaks–the 3 and 4-day weekends–he didn’t go home. I got back to our dorm after one of those breaks and noticed my bed was made. I didn’t think much of it, though I probably made my bed twice the whole year. Then I got an IM from my friend Mindy, who happened to live just down the hall with Shawn R.’s girlfriend.

    “Notice anything about your room?”
    “Um, no….”
    “Look at your bed.”
    “My bed is made.”
    “He MADE your bed!”

    Apparently, after a day or so of sitting in our room and looking at my unmade bed, Shawn R. just couldn’t stand it anymore and had to make it. That’s what I call neat. Though maybe I should have expected something like that from a freshman male who mopped our floor on several occasions.

    That made the Sprite incident all the more interesting.

    Mindy and I frequently ordered food with Shawn L. and ate down in her room. After one of our meals arrived, I went back to my room to grab a plastic bottle of Sprite from our fridge. It was the last one, so I opened my closet and grabbed two more bottles so there would be a cold one for later.

    And then it happened. I used my left hand–already holding two bottles–to close the closet door. Like the genius that I am, I also left part of my hand in the quickly closing door. The door and my hand tried to occupy the same space, which resulted in quite a deal of pain. It also caused my hand to forget it was holding two plastic bottles, sending them crashing to the ground.

    One of the bottles was unharmed. The other exploded. Actually, I’m not sure exploded is the right word. There may not be a word for what happened to the contents of that bottle. The second–and I mean iota of a second–the bottle hit the ground, a slit the size of a splinter opened up in the bottom. In an instant, Sprite mist coated every corner of the room. I barely had time to blink. My eyelid started to come down, my eye looking over a perfectly clean room. By the time it closed and reopened, the clear, sticky mess was everywhere.

    The ceiling was covered with little dots of soda. The mirror on the other side of the room looked like I had just sprayed it with some sort of cleaner. My shirt looked like I had just been hit in the chest with a water balloon. Shawn R.’s CD rack looked like I had dumped the bottle all over it. His computer screen…his desk…you get the picture.

    I had to make the long walk back to Mindy’s room with a sense of utter dread. Not only was I not going to be enjoying my food, but now I also had to borrow all available cleaning supplies and spend the rest of my day scrubbing.

    I’d be willing to bet there’s still a fine mist of Sprite on the ceiling in Smith 315.

  • 09 Sep

    The First Penguin

    Two in one day? I know you’re asking yourself how you could possibly be so amazingly lucky. Well, thanks to some vacation days from The Local Station, I have been able to sleep like a normal person for several nights in a row. Somnia=productivity. Check that. Slumber=productivity. Apparently “somnia” means “a sick man’s dreams,” not the opposite of insomnia. I definitely don’t have that.

    When I was in grad school we watched a fair number of movies in our grand apartment on Tulane Drive. Since I was in control of the Netflix account, I could definitely field the blame or credit for the choice of discs that ended up in the DVD player. That’s the period where I became aware of a tendency to end up with a string of not-so-uplifting entertainment choices. I’m not sure of the exact lineup of movies we went through, but I do remember one of them being the poignant yet utterly depressing “Elephant.” (If you haven’t seen it, there’s a Columbine quality to the storyline).

    After this string of movies one of my roommates, Jason, said something like, “Wow, another extremely happy tale.” While they were all good movies, I definitely saw his point. I don’t intend to string together “downer” tales, but sometimes it just ends up happening.

    Such is the case with the reading project. I just went from Machiavellian words of do whatever is necessary to achieve what you want, to a discussion of game theory where in many cases the altruistic and benevolent end up being “suckers” in the outcome. Whenever I catch on to these trends, I do my best to add some more comedies to the Netflix list or grab a happier volume from my bookshelf.

    Which brings me to “The Last Lecture” by Randy Pausch. Granted, it isn’t exactly a “happy” set of circumstances, but that’s exactly the point.

    If you’ve been living with dial-up in a DSL world, Pausch recently died of pancreatic cancer. He was a computer science professor at Carnegie-Mellon University. Pausch was asked to give a “last lecture,” a chance for professors to really focus on a talk as if it were the last they would ever give. But Pausch was told he had just months to live shortly before he was going to give his lecture. It became a widespread hit on the Internet, and he eventually expanded upon the idea with this book. More at TheLastLecture.com.

    Pausch is a man who certainly wasn’t wallowing in the dire nature of his diagnosis. He really wanted to go out the way he had lived his life, as a fun-loving person who demanded a lot from himself and those around him. But at all times, he writes, he wanted to have a sense of what was really important.

    One of the best illustrations comes from late in his cancer battle. He writes that he went to the grocery store and used the self-checkout. By mistake, he swiped his credit card twice, racking up a double charge for the $16 worth of goods. He says he could have spent time tracking down the manager and waiting for the extra transaction to be reversed. But then it hit him, “Is this really how I’d like to spend this 15 minutes? Is 15 minutes worth $16 to me right now?” The answer was no, and he just left the store. Think about that the next time you ask for a Coke and get a Dr. Pepper, or you get italian dressing instead of the balsamic vinagrette you ordered. Is that really how you’d like to spend that time?

    I expected 200 pages of poignant messages about living your life to the fullest and achieving your dreams. What I didn’t foresee was the absolute carefree attitude in Pausch’s writing that is really humorous at times. He gives tips for making sure you waste as little time on the phone as possible. These include standing up while you talk and having something you want to get to next sitting in front of you as a reminder you need to hurry up. The best is when you need to call someone, do it just a few minutes before lunch. “They’ll talk fast,” he writes. “You may think you are interesting, but you are not more interesting than lunch.”

    He’s also a man after my own heart. I hate being asked a question, or thinking about something to which I don’t know the answer. Thankfully we live in an age where most of the time that information is just a few keystrokes away. Paush says that his family was integral in instilling those same traits in him. “‘If you have a question,’ my folks would say, ‘then find the answer.’ The instinct at our house was never to sit around like slobs and wonder. We knew a better way: Open the encyclopedia. Open the dictionary. Open your mind.”

    One of my favorite of Pausch’s message is to let kids be kids. He rails against the notion that we should be protecting kids from everything and holding them all up as “gifted.” Kids should be able to make mistakes, strike out in Little League, get a B- on a test and scribble on their bedroom walls. In fact, that’s just what Pausch’s parents allowed.

    He asked his parents if he could paint things that mattered to him on his walls. They said OK. His mother may not have been totally for the project–Pausch writes that she hovered out in the hallway during the process, while dad sat in the living room–but they came to show off his work proudly.

    When I was about 12 I was allowed to paint my own room, including a giant replica of the Major League Baseball logo on one wall. That was one of the coolest parts of my childhood.

    But Pausch put my creative work to shame. He had the quadratic formula and a rocket ship. There was his version of Pandora’s box. A submarine lurked around his bed with a periscope sticking up above the headboard. And the best item: A replica of elevator doors complete with up and down arrows, and the lights over top with floors numbered one through six. “The number ‘three’ was illuminated,” he writes. “We lived in a ranch house–it was just one level–so I was doing a bit of fantasizing to imagine six floors. But looking back, why didn’t I paint eighty or ninety floors?”

    What parents would allow that type of freedom today? I picture the mother from the show “Jon & Kate Plus 8”–she’d have a simultaneous massive heart attack and stroke.

    When Pausch was teaching, he brought that same “try and it’s OK if you fail” attitude to his students. After all, that’s when we learn a lot. At the end of the semester, he says he would give “The First Penguin Award” to the group that failed the most while taking the biggest chance. He says he named it as he did after the first penguin to dive in the water in the wild, who is taking the chance that a predator could be waiting for lunch. Of course, after he dives in, the rest of the penguins can make a more informed decision. But that’s exactly the point–if nobody is the first penguin, we all stand on the shore forever.

    “Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted…Failure is not just acceptable, it’s often essential.” — Randy Pausch.

  • 25 Jul

    Oh Computers…

    I just finished watching Apocalypto, which I highly recommend. I went to my Netflix list to set up my next string of movies and to browse for some new selections.

    You can rate movies, and based on what you’ve liked they’ll give you some suggestions. The best part is that they’ll tell you why they recommend a certain title. And that’s where the fun of computers made my day.

    Suggestion: Cocaine Cowboys- a documentary about cocaine smuggling in Miami in the ’80s.
    Because you liked: The Office (Season 2)…and my favorite- Blow.

    Ok, I can sort of understand Blow. I liked a movie that was all about cocaine trafficking. That doesn’t necessarily mean I like cocaine or want to see more movies about its distribution, but at least there’s a connection there.

    But The Office? Maybe this is the season where someone finds a blunt in the parking lot and everyone in the office has to go through drug testing to find out the identity of the company pothead. But how on Earth does that mean I’ll like a documentary about cocaine trafficking?

    The other picks make a bit of sense. I liked The Simpsons Season 6, so I might like The Simpsons season 3. It gives me Toy Story because I liked Monsters, Inc.

    And then there’s this gem: All Deliberate Speed. It’s a documentary about the Brown v. Board of Education case, and frankly one I actually am interested in seeing. But the three movies I rated that led to this recommendation are Glory, All The President’s Men and Bowling For Columbine. Not too sure what those have to do with Brown v. Board…

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