s n a p p e r h e a d

Illicit Has Three Eyes

Honest misunderstandings are often grounds for future sexual intercourse -- Snapperhead misquoting H. D. Thoreau

digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005

Napoleon Dynamite (2004) directed by Jared Hess (Peluca, 2003); starring Jon Heder and Efren Ramirez: Snaprating=WFD, CHARACTER-theme. Fans of Bad Santa will be less ashamed of laughing but may not understand why this deadpan movie makes them giggle so much.

The Jacket (2005) directed by John Maybury (Love Is the Devil: Study for a Portrait of Francis Bacon, 1998); starring Adrien Brody and Keira Knightley: Snaprating=Cheaper, PROBLEM-theme. Fans of Vanilla Sky will enjoy this cryptic-pic and walk away with a theory about what happened when.

Constantine (2005) directed by Francis Lawrence (directorial debut); starring Keanu Reeves and Rachel Weisz: Snaprating=WFD, RE-ORDER-theme (secondary MILIEU theme). Fans of good vs. evil battles will like this movie more than Van Helsing because the supporting characters are outstanding.

The Forgotten (2004) directed by Joseph Ruben (Sleeping with the Enemy, 1991); starring Julianne Moore and Gary Sinise: Snaprating=WFT, PROBLEM-theme. Fans who really loved the two WFT movies: Signs and The Village, will jump off their seat a couple times as long as they overlook the extremely bad editing.

Garden State (2004) directed by Zach Braff (directorial debut); starring Zach Braff and Natalie Portman: Snaprating=WFD, RE-ORDER-theme (minor secondary Character-theme). Fans of quirky ironic depictions of everyday-people acting out an interesting script will like this 'Clerks meets Napoleon Dynamite' film.

Alien Vs. Predator (2004) directed by Paul W.S. Anderson (Event Horizon, 1997); starring Sanaa Lathan and Raoul Bova: Snaprating=WFD, PROBLEM-theme. Fans of all the Alien and Predator films will discover nothing new or unsuspected as this story successfully pokes fun at itself and it's predecessors.

The Grudge (2004) directed by Takashi Shimizu (Ju-on: The Grudge, 2003); starring Sarah Michelle Gellar and Jason Behr: Snaprating=WFC, PROBLEM-theme. Fans of the original shouldn't sully their memories with this Americanized re-make which won't scare a 5-year-old (too much).

Saw (2004) directed by James Wan (Stygian, 2000); starring Leigh Whannell and Danny Glover: Snaprating=Cheaper, PROBLEM-theme. Fans of The Cube will notice strong situation and dialogue similarities, but even with flawed acting and directing the plot will keep you in suspense.

The Yes Men (2003) directed by Dan Ollman (directorial debut); starring Andy Bichlbaum and Mike Bonanno: Snaprating=WFC, RE-ORDER-theme. Documentary fans may not enjoy this unless watching extremely detailed, embarrassing pranks is entertaining.

September Tapes (2004) directed by Christian Johnston (directorial debut); starring George Calil and Wali Razaqi: Snaprating=WFT, MILIEU-theme (weak PROBLEM secondary theme). 'The Blair Witch Project meets The Killing Fields' in Afghanistan with poor directing, no plot, bad special effects and terrible actors.

Armbytrarie

"Most people are other people. Their thoughts come from someone else, their lives are a mimicry, their passions a stupid quote like this one." --snapperhead misquoting Oscar Wilde

digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005

snapperhead history and a poaching

A 'SNAPPERHEAD' search revealed my site name is also the name of bands in New Jersey as well as Southern California, software which allows you to receive 'snapshot views' of IP addresses, and--among other less interesting things--a sentence in a now-defunct blog where the author used my title as a noun, '...all I could say at the time was only a snapperhead could stoop...' (last entry in 2003). That blog included this fantasmagoric pic-poster, which I poached.

HISTORY: I bought a black cap from a restaraunt in the early years of the last decade. It had a large red lobster on it. Years later, trying out a managerial tool on my office; playfully with an undertone of but-no-really, I began referring to specific actions as: Snapperhead, Dingleberry, or BMFSA (badmotherfuckin.. 'indoors' and bestmostfinest.. 'outdoors'). The office jumped on the band wagon with both feet. There was a tally board. If you did something snapperheaded you got 'awarded the hat' and displayed it in your office. BMFSA got awarded a very comfortable leather office chair.

Ten Things I Have Done That You Probably Haven't

This meme came from Eve Tusnet, to Terry Teachout, to Old Hag, to Bluepoppy and now has my addition as the fifth in this thread.

Shot three under par (a double-eagle) on a par 5.
Traveled through 36 countries on six of the eight continents. (I aspire to visit Antarctica and South America).
Performed euthanasia on an unfortunate dog using a kennel, a vacuum cleaner hose, a plastic drop cloth and car exhaust. It took less than two minutes.
Hand fed stingrays while scuba diving in the Caribbean.
Attended a show where--among other things--a woman painted with a labially clenched brush. I have it framed.
Viewed movies in 9 countries. In Australia, a ring around a ceiling light fell and cut the head of the person sitting next to me. We had exchanged seats just before the movie started so she could see.
Obtained a lithograph of an obscure Slovakian artist, which a Croatian Prime Minister previously gifted to the SACEUR, my boss at the time. His wife hated it and threw it away. Their cook recovered it from the trash and took it home. His wife also hated it and gave it to me.
Got a paper cut riding on the running board of a Suburban behind (then Secretary) Cheney in the ticker-tape parade up Wall Street's Canyon of Heroes, for returning Gulf War troops.
Investigated an allegation of American WWII soldiers murdering POWs fifty-one years after the fact.
Watched a Bald Eagle in the wild.

Sidore Kuroneko

This rendering was inspired by Shouting to hear the echos and Kitten with a Whip! thus, the title of the piece.

digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005

cat humor

This is my kind of twisted humor. See more at a softer world.

The Invisible Underpinnings

Over at laughingsky, this tale about a story involving premonition and perceptions outside of our everyday ken, caused me to recall:

I rolled over as quietly as a Brunswick pin machine. There had to be an--as yet unfound--perfect position where my body would fit between the metal bar severing the nerves at the base of my spine and the one causing my scapula to chafe. Then I might feel like I was undergoing ordinary knife-torture-bliss and not at all like being impaled on a pike. This was our, well my, third night on the torture-rack that was my grandmother's foldout couch.

My wife didn't find sleeping here any problem, but Koreans sleep their whole lives on floors with pillows made from wood-shavings. This must be better. Maybe I should get down on the living room floor. My mind began to wander toward sleep.

Catching-up with relatives can be a whole different type of torture. And last night's dinner at Great-Aunt Myra and Great-Uncle Gerry's was proof that I can bite my own tongue for over four hours.

From the opening salvo:

"You sure gotcha one cute little china doll, there Veach. Only Korean. A Korean china Doll. Hah, that's a good one. Here, want a beer?"

"Hush up, you! And don't mind Gerry, honey. I'd say drinking brings out the asshole in him, but he acts the same way sober."

To the closing bell:

"I didn't make any rice. Is that OK?"

"Sure, I don't eat rice with every meal."

"Oh reeeaaly?" Aunt Myra's eybrows rose with her inflection in a that's-a-fucking-lie tone.

My back was no longer complaining when my wife shot up off the fold-a-bed with a gasp and flail. The sun was up. I must have slept. "What? What's wrong?" I said.

She relaxed and lay facing me. "I just had a terrible dream. We were in one of those large skyscraper buildings like we saw? But we were sitting in the center area where there was a kind of atrium with trees and plants and flowers and a large pond with a waterfall. We were kissing. Your sister, Nancy, came up to us and you turned towards her and she stuck a spear into your chest. There was so much blood and you died." Tears were in her eyes and her breathing was becoming shorter.

"It was a nightmare. I'm fine." I smiled. But I needed to get her mind off the memory, so I asked, "You've never met Nancy. Why do you think it was her?"

"Nana showed me pictures of her a couple nights ago. It was her." So we talked for a while longer about my sister and the dream and after a long few minutes we both went back to sleep.

The phone woke us. It was now mid-morning. Nana answered and after a hurried exchange came into the living room where I was returning the bed to it's less-painful form. Nana said, "Gerry's dead. It must have been a heart attack in his sleep. That was Myra, she found him on the floor about seven this morning after she heard a falling noise from his bedroom."

I recalled the dream. The spear through my chest. I commented on the coincidence that Uncle Gerry would have a massive coronary and my wife--who only met him for a few hours the night before--would have a nightmare involving a spear through my chest at about the same moment. We discussed it with Nana and then decided to notify relatives of the pending funeral.

"Hey, Nance. Haven't talked to you in a while."

"What's up bro? Are you visiting Nana still?"

"Yea. Hey, I can't talk too long, it's her bill and all, you know. But I was just..."

"It's weird that you would call today. I just had a dream about you this morning that woke me up. It was fucking strange."

"What?" I looked over at my wife sitting in the dining room talking with Nana.

"It was soo real. You know how those are? You and I were sitting on the grass in the park next to the duck pond. And--this is the strange shit--we were, like, kissing. I mean we were really going at it. Then your wife came up to us and you and her got in an argument about us makin out and she stuck a knife in your chest. It was fuckin waaay freaky. And I woke up all jumping out of my skin and shit."

"Nancy. You are...I need to tell you..." Again, I looked over at my wife. I was certain if this was a 'game on Veach' she would give it away with a look or a smile. No look. No smirk. "Nance. First off, the reason I called is Uncle Gerry died this morning. Of a heart attack."

"No fuckin way. Wow. Now you're gonna tell me it was around 5 a.m. and that my dream was connected to his death, right?"

"Why...was that when you had the dream?"

"Round then. This is a joke right?"

"You don't know the half of it yet."

Nancy lives two time zones West of Nana. You do the math. It gives me brain-hair-chills just to recount it. I certainly don't understand the invisible underpinnings. I do know they're there and that some people see a shadow of the edge in their dreams.

Anger, Angst and a Jalopy

"Where does the violence, sanity, and insanity end and the orange tint begin? Distinctly we see the difference of the colors, but where exactly does the one first blending enter into the others?" -- Snapperhead misquoting Herman Melville

digital rendering by veach st. glines, creative commons license 2005

self portrait, ears intact, no tongue

"I tell you. The more I think, the more I feel certain that there is nothing more truly artistic than to completely despise people." --Snapperhead mis-quoting Vincent van Gogh