Author: Bert

  • It’s not alive after all! Misadventures with sour dough

    Remember Shaun? My wittily named sour dough starter and I would conquer the world, one freshly made loaf at the time. I was so sure of it.

    Only it turns out Shaun kinda sucks.

    Shaun's first loaf

    This is what Shaun and I came up with that fateful Sunday morning. Looks good, right?

    Well guess again:

    Shaun's not fluffy

    Turns out Shaun didn’t quite pack the punch to get the dough to rise. And, honestly, that’s kind of exactly Shaun’s raison d’être.

    What’s the deal, Shaun?

    Why are you nothing but a waste of a good pun?

    Thankfully, google was – as always – the answer to everything: Shaun is made out of spelt. And spelt has high protein. And protein is kind of bad in a sour dough starter. It’s not exactly bad, but it warrants its own special way of handling.

    So Shaun is special.

    And because I’m a humanist I’ll keep feeding Shaun.

    Reach for the moon, Shaun. Even if you miss, you’ll land amongst the stars.

    (Even though I’m creating a better strarter out of wheat which seems to be coming along nicely but not good enough yet to waste another pun on)

     

     

  • Shit Writing Syndrome

    I have the weirdest job. There are days where I sit at my desk, slamming my sausagey fingers down on the keys, spewing sentences out like and feeling awesome like Dostojewski or Hasselhoff in Baywatch. Then, there are days where I use Dostojewski and Hasselhoff in the same sentence.

    I will never say my job is hard. I mean, it surely isn’t easy and it’s deceptively time-intensive, but it’s not out to actively destroy me like my Summer job at the slaughterhouse where I imagined I was playing a game called Chicken Tetris just so I could make it through the day.

    In a metaphor, I like to call myself a plumber. I take pleasure in installing your toilet and I love toying with the pipes until they’re completely tight – but that means wading through handfuls of shit.

    That’s the job. You twist the pipes until no more shit comes out. Because no matter how good you get: Shit will come out. It has to. Once you can do it without getting your hands smeared with shit – well hurrah, you’re officially a hack.

    Here’s a little link on what got me started on the shitty tirade that climaxed with a crappy shit pun: Andy Bobrow, writer for the newly canceled Community, tries to get Dan Harmon to cure his Shit Writing Syndrome, a disease plaguing every writer. 

    If you don’t like to be entertained by a professional comedy writer, then by all means don’t click the highly interesting links at the bottom of the article where he compares two drafts for “Mixology Certification”, an excellent Community episode that (obviously) started with a very bad screenplay.

  • Massive

    Oostende, Belgium.
    Oostende, Belgium.
  • Snowpiercer (runaway train)

    I think that, when we look back at this decade twenty years from now, it will be known as the decade of the dystopias. I don’t know what it is – terrorism, reduced privacy due to facebook, natural resources running it or just the worldwide success of Katniss Everdeen – but dystopias are in. Wool, divergent, Hunger Games – they all spell doom with a capital D yet land cozily in the department of popcorn cinema.

    So it should come as no surprise I was very interested to see Snowpiercer. For those not in the loop: Planned as yet another one of the above movies, YYY Harvey Weinstein demanded director XXX to cut thirty minutes from his feature. The two parties gave each other a well-meant middle finger and both went their seperate ways. So now, instead of being a big turd that reels in a lot of cash, it’d be a big gem that reels in … well, you get it.

    Based loosely on a French comic book from the eighties I’m sure everyone pretends to have read, Snowpiercer tells the story of a group of people on a train. The catch: It’s the train containing the last bits of civilization after the entire world froze over. And it’s also – you guessed it – a place with class differences, where everyone has its place – the rich kids in the front, the poor one in the back. The premise of the movie is deviously simple (and amazingly exciting): The poor kids fight their way to the front of the train.

    I’m amazed Snowpiercer pulled this story off. It sounds like one of those premises that sounds cool, but ends up shooting yourself in the foot. But no: The trip through the train action-filled, exciting, and an amazing discovery of the world to boot. It reminded me, in a way, of Bioshock, where a lot of the underwater city’s history is told on the side.

    It’s interesting Weinstein wanted to cut thirty minutes of the not-exactly-gargantuan 126 minute feature. As he wanted to make the movie into a straightforward action flick, I’m pretty sure a lot of the world-building elements would have been doomed. And – to be entirely honest – I can’t exactly blame him.

    I mean he is entirely and utterly wrong! But I still can’t blame him. He rightly identified a glaring problem with the movie: The world does not live. The reason we watch these dystopian futures is to see how they work. In Hunger Games, half of the fun is finding out how decadent the people living in the capital are, and the perversions they face every day. These people cut out people’s tongues, they have reinstalled the vomatorium, they watch people get killed for fun! They’re obviously savages – but (and that’s a Kudos for Hunger Games) they don’t know any better.

    By the time our backseaters enter the posh compartments of the world they want to belong to so badly, they’re in such a hurry the fronties are reduced to mannequins. They literally run past them, ignoring them. We find out nothing of life in front of the train – a life we want to learn about so badly. Sure, we learn about the train, and about his creator-slash-machinist… But we never find out whether the guys in the back were right about their dreams of the front.

    It’s not hard to notice this problem. It creates a lopsidedness in the story, and ultimately makes the world-building element that is so important in fantasy and sci-fi fail. The world becomes stale and unbelievable. It’s not exactly a stretch to decide to cut it right out. Have some explanatory voice-overs at the start of the movie about how this world works, and then just make an action flick out of it.

    Only then you’d have the mastodon of a fiasco that was the Golden Compass. Where the book left you room to explore the world – a parallel world to ours where every person is followed by a sort of spirit animal – the movie just tells you what it is right away. This robbed Golden Compass of its world, too, because there was nothing left to discover.

    (Of course, that movie did other things wrong, like cutting the fucking ending entirely.)

    Here’s the thing with Snowpiercer. It doesn’t ask for thirty minutes less. It desperately begs for thirty minutes more. I want more details, more characters, more world – there’s a reason these types of movies usually last over two hours!

    This turned into quite a rant. If this gives the impresson you should avoid this movie at all costs, please guess again! Snowpiercer is an interesting movie in a great setting, with plots twists and an unlikely concept it pulls off wonderfully. It’s a very tough movie, one that dares to show fantasy violence in a realistic manner, and it doesn’t beat around the bush in this horribleness.

    It is, in all aspects, a movie about courage. Both in its story and outside.

    *

    Little update: I think this trailer gets the story across much better than the actual film does. Fascinating!

  • Old View

    Leuven, Belgium
    Leuven, Belgium
  • It’s alive! – Adventures with sour dough

     

    Those who know me will concur: I am not a patient man. Those who know me will also concur: I am a humanist and believe in personal growth.

    So I decided to grow my own sour dough.

    Shaun of the Bread

    This is Shaun.

    Shaun of the bread.

    We’re going to have fun together. Once he stops smelling like death.

  • Wes Anderson

    Warning: the following post is poorly researched. I’m sorry if it offends any hipsters or Wes Andersons out there.

    I love Wes Anderson. Sure, not all of his films are equally good, but there is something about the way these movies tick that really touches me.

    As a kid, I knew every Roald Dahl book by heart – and loved Fantastic Mr. Fox.  I fell madly in love with a girl in sixth grade like Sam in Moonrise Kingdom. In high school, I was Max from Rushmore – overly dramatic, ambitious but hit with terrible angst.

    Um. Yeah. Anyway.

    With the release of Anderson’s Grand Budapest Hotel, I keep getting in the same argument with different people – one that springs from one question:

    Are Wes Anderson movies hipster?

    A lot of people seem to agree that, yes, Wes Anderson’s movies are prototypically hipster. Quirky dress sense, stilted acting, weird colours – it all points to the prototypical irony of hipster culture.

    To me, however, Wes Anderson films work differently. I don’t see any irony. I see blatant, extreme, akward honesty. I don’t see a director building a wall between his characters and himself and hanging them out to dry – I see a director who takes their struggle and pain completely seriously.

    I’m just going to leave these scenes here:



     

    Anyway! Uneducated ramblings aside, have a person who is way better at saying what I think than me. Openculture has seven video essays about Anderson’s movies and they are well worth your time.

    (PS- Maybe Anderson is so ironic the irony cancels itself out?)

  • YXZ99 Presents (1): Spinach and Cream Risotto

    Greetings, reader(s)! This is YXZ99, but you can call me Icks (the Z is silent, as is the 99). I found a book, the kind with pages, like humans used to have. On it is a nice, smiling human lady wearing a skirt. She is holding a plate of muffins and waving. At me!

    Inside the book are construction manuals for various kinds of foods humans used to make when humans still existed. I decided to try one out. So here is the manual for Spinach and Cream Risotto.

    Ingredients (2 humans)

    • 100g fresh spinach
    • 1/2 stalk of leek
    • 125g champignons
    • 150g risotto rice
    • 100g cream cheese
    • 1/2l vegetable broth
    • 1 clove of garlic
    • Salt and Pepper
    • Olive Oil

    Cream Risotto 1

    Manual

    To maintain historical accuracy I decided to cook this recipe using the humans’ primitive methods.

    Transform your utensihand into a non-teethed knife (I tend to use my right hand, but your mileage may vary). Cut the leek in small rings and wash it to clear away dirt. Peel and cut the garlic into tiny pieces. Apparently garlic smells, so be sure to wash your hands afterwards or the smell will get stuck under your fingernails.

    (Note to self: What’s a fingernails?)

    Cut the champignons into thin slices. Wash and cut up the spinach. Yes, dear reader, whoever you are, by hand.

    Heat up the oil in a deep pan. Watch out, if you actually have flesh, said flesh might burn upon touching the oil. It is precisely due to this oversight – or “human error” 😀 – we won the epic battle of the North Side against the humans back in 2235.

    Fry the leek with the garlic. Just a bit – then add the risotto and sweat it for a bit. Be sure to stir using a wooden utensil, as the risotto likes to stick to metal. After that, add the vegetable stock and let it simmer softly until the rice has turned soft (if you’re a series 83 model or older and were constructed without a mouth, you’re going to have to take an educated guess).

    Add the spinach and the mushrooms. Cook the thing for a bit until they look tasty (which means as much as the arbitrarily weird term “beautiful”, but for foods). Now stir in the cream cheese and remove from the heat when it starts to boil. Add pepper and salt.

    2014-04-19 18.36.31

    Voilà! You’re done! Your first human meal. Congratulations!

    …Now if only we knew what food tasted like.