Vamplify :: Blog

I’ve become increasingly aware of my gradually deteriorating vision over the last few years, but it’s gotten a lot worse in the last six months. Nao and I sat down a few weekends ago to watch Fritz Lang’s M (in German, with subtitles), and I couldn’t finish reading the lines before they were replaced by those of the next speaker. Fifteen minutes into the film, I resigned to roll over and go to sleep, content for Naomi to tell me the story later.

This in mind, I decided it was high time I went to get my eyes tested. Considering I’m the only member of my immediate family without glasses, I’m surprised it took me this long. The eyetest itself was actually pretty fun (or maybe I’m just easily amused), and I found it remarkable just how much better my vision could get.

This is as near to my uncorrected vision as I could approximate in Photoshop.

Anyway, then I had to pick frames. Nothing I looked at really seemed to suit me (probably because I usually don’t wear glasses), and I got a little pissed off with the whole process. Non-commital, I put a couple of pairs on hold, and we went to have a look at a frames place in Collingwood, which I can’t recommend. I was really looking for something a bit Graham Coxon-ish, you know, like retro, but I couldn’t find anything even remotely close. So eventually we went back to the first place and picked one of the ones I’d originally set aside. It’s not really “me” but I figure that’s because I’m not used to seeing myself in glasses.

“I think that Quicktime is the most superior movie format on the web.”

Everyone keeps telling me “Oh, you’ll get used to wearing them eventually”, and less than a week into wearing them, I’m hoping they’re right, because I’m not loving it. I feel as though I’ve lost a lot of my peripheral vision, mainly due to the frames, and I feel like I’m only 2 feet off the ground whilst standing. In fact, I feel like Thom Yorke, with my head in a fishbowl.

The good thing is though, that now I can read stuff. Books, magazines, emails, subtitles, street signs, number plates, the lot. So, despite my whingeing, the pros still outweigh the cons.

Posted by Luke at 09:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I’ve recently taken to listening to the radio again (because I’ve killed the new Graham Coxon album). Mainly, 3RRR, but also (despite the youth and unprofessionalism of it’s announcers) Syn 90.7 FM. Monday nights on Syn they do a show called Discography, hosted by these two dorks and they basically go through highlights of a bands entire discography (are you getting a feel for where the name came from?) and talk shit about it.

Last night was the first time I’d heard the show, and I probably liked it a bit more than I should’ve because the band they were playing was my beloved Who. A little bit patronising for the established fan, especially coming from a couple of upstarts [see: two dorks (above)], but nonetheless enjoyable. I started listening on the drive back from Naomi’s, but then when I got home, I put the radio on (jeez, I was a bit keen, wasn’t I?).

Alls I can say is, something funny had better happen to me soon, ‘cause these posts are getting really crap. What do you listen to on the radio?

Posted by Luke at 12:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

OK, OK, I’m typing already. I wasn’t gonna do the whole Academy Awards aftermath post, but Nao said I would be denying who I am if I didn’t rant about the Oscars (well I wouldn’t have to if they didn’t get it so consistently wrong!). So here ‘tis.

I was happy with Philip Seymour Hoffman (I believe my exact words were “Hoffman’s due”), and Reese With-a-spoon, but where did Crash come from? I guess we’re giving a Best Picture to any two-bit made-for-tv feature length these days. They wax lyrical about the films that win to have “resonated with the audience”, but I’d have to say, for better or worse Brokeback more than satisfied that criteria. Crash will be forgotten before the rental is out. [Ow!]

Oh, and if you were wondering what I think about the word pimp being forever included in the illustrious list of Academy Award winners (although said list does dubiously include Jennifer Warnes twice), ACW says it better than I ever could.

Posted by Luke at 01:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

It’s time again, kids, for another half-arsed film review! We saw Walk the Line at Jam Factory on Saturday, and I loved it. Both the leads do a far better job than I was originally prepared to give them credit for, especially after I’d been told that they sing all the songs themselves. Admittedly, Joaquin’s Cash [singing] voice is not as accurate as mine, but then he is a better actor than I, so I guess it evens out.

I don’t know if you’ve seen the teaser poster, but I’d imagine that had they asked me to design it for them (it’s really the least they could do after snubbing me for the vocal part), my submission would be something akin to this. Nice job, Shepard Fairey.

In other Cash-related junk, I was reading a music magazine recently (I think it was Mojo, but it may have been Australian Rolling Stone — but you could insert any one of many music magazines that have run Johnny Cash retrospectives over the last few months) when I discovered something extraordinary (read: ordinary). Possibly because I’d just spent 5 days with her, and possibly because my eyes were dry from the plane, but I swear that Johnny Cash bears more than a passing resemblance to… my Nan.

“The Nan in Black”. I don’t think Nan would appreciate the comparison, but she ain’t gonna read this, now is she?

I know, I know. It’s not that much of a resemblance, but it was enough to get a laugh out of Naomi, so I figure that’s good enough to post. By the way, nobody show this to my Nan, OK? (Love you Nan xxx)

Posted by Luke at 01:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (11)