More Than Two Guns

I knew I would see this movie when I saw the trailer and it felt like Mark Wahlberg was calling me his bitch. *melt* The odd thing about a movie with such big stars as he and Denzel Washington was that I don’t actually recall having seen the trailer in the cinema before last week. They pulled out all the stops this week, though, with Scene e-mails offering double points for seeing it and other such flogging.

I did enjoy it, probably despite all the shooting. One might expect a lot of shooting in a movie called 2 Guns, and there were considerably more guns than two, and a lot of other weaponry as well. No, I liked it for the banter. There were smartass comments, there was flirting, winks were exchanged. Everything that sold me on seeing from the trailer and more.

The story is a little odd: our two heroes are undercover for different government agencies and each thinks he is pulling a sting on the other. What they end up doing is stealing a surprising amount of cash from the CIA — via a bank — and having that agency as well as a Mexican drug gang out to get them. Not to mention that their own agencies turn on them and are gunning for them as well.

I did learn some useful things, like “Never rob a bank across the street from a café that sells excellent doughnuts” (I’m paraphrasing: mere hours after seeing it I am rapidly losing details!). The masks they use to rob the bank reconfirmed my clown fetish (it may have helped that I knew it was Mark Wahlberg inside the clown). Apparently, peeing on your hands will keep them from blistering as you beat your captives. Oh, and Denzel Washington can give as good as he gets (bad grammar, but I believe that’s the expression), and this applies to the verbal and the violent.

You could get lost in the intrigue and the confusion of who is on whose side, or you can get swept up in the developing relationship between our two heroes. One thing for sure is that you will laugh your way through it.

An aside on the topic of laughing: there was a child in the cinema who I thought was rather young for the content. He seemed to be with his family, and had the loudest and most distinctive laugh of all. I just wonder if he got some of the more adult humour. Strange.

This is…what was that again?

Oh dear! It has been almost five days since I went to see This is the End and I haven’t written about it. That it is rapidly sliding from my memory is more an assessment of my memory than of the movie (there’s that movie vs. film distinction again), but it does mean my account of it will be a little light on the content!

It was surprising to us that the cinema was a full as it was, since this has been out for weeks. Granted, it was a smallish room, but still well-populated. Lots of people laughing at the same things we were laughing at, but I’m not sure if they were as startled as I got at one point, as I was too busy clutching at my pearls.

Premise: Canadian actor Jay Baruchel is in LA, visiting Seth Rogen, who drags him to a party at James Franco’s house. Yes, everyone plays him- or herself in this one, and there is a cast of a whole lot of current and future Hollywood stars in it. Some party! I think I was most amused by Michael Cera, whose part was not huge, but who really played something completely different from most of his film characters.

Moving on… While Jay and Seth go out to buy something (cigarettes?), some big stuff starts going down. The earth shaking and beams coming down from the sky and pulling people upwards…I was sure it was alien invasion time but alas, it was Armageddon. They beat a hasty retreat to James Franco’s house, which survives the turmoil quite well, until a giant sinkhole to Hell opens on the front lawn, taking many of the party guests with it.

From then on, a struggle to survive against hunger (they are a little short on food and water) and demons. Demon-possessed Jonah Hill occupies their attention for a while, provoking Exorcist-inspired attempts to remove the demon, and then there are real demons, or A real demon, which seems to get bigger every time we see it. And all its anatomically correct parts get bigger each time, until one of them falls off. I’ll let you guess which one.

In any case, it was a fun watch, even if it is fading quickly from my memory. I really need to write these up faster!

Ugh! Telemarketing

I have a new reason to not answer my phone when I see one of those unfamiliar long-distance numbers on the display. I’m sure we all dislike having our lives interrupted by the call, trying to sell us something that we probably don’t need. How about the now-too-common proactive customer service call — you are already our customer, but how much better could your service be if only you bundled a bunch of services together?

My Dad has his way of dealing with those calls. Every call a screened call, unless he happens to be next to the phone and it’s a number he recognizes. It gets easier over time to resist the urge to answer that ring, I suppose, but I’m someone who only recently stopped rushing dripping from the shower to answer the insistent ring of my phone, so that urge runs deeply in me.

My strategy has been relatively simple and two-pronged. First, an unlisted number. That eliminates the unsophisticated random calls working from lists. Second, I have registered my numbers (home and mobile) on the federal “do not call” list (Canada • USA), so there are negative consequences for telemarketers calling me if I don’t already have a relationship with them or if they don’t fit into the various exceptions (notably charities, not bound by this list).

The gaping hole in my strategy is not so much what it is for my Dad. He gets TONS of calls from charities, which I avoid by giving largely to organizations I know really well that will not trade their lists with others. I’m also armed with my answer to those requests that generally frightens them away: “I give most of my money to AIDS charities because I have it.” That really shuts them up. No, my strategy fails more on the people I have business relations with. Telecommunications and TV: everyone wants to be my sole supplier, while I resist that for the simple reason that I don’t want everything to fail at once! (I deliberately got my mobile phone from a different company when I was having trouble with my home phone line.)

So what’s my new reason to not answer the phone when an apparent telemarketing call is incoming? It’s me. I don’t like what I turn into on the phone with these people. I might be in a relatively good mood, but the call transforms me into a short-tempered rude person who interrupts and eventually hangs up when the poor underpaid telemarketing person fails to depart from the script to answer my “get to the point” questions.

I’m writing this because it just happened and I’m not feeling very proud of my behaviour. I don’t see any prospect of becoming any more tolerant, so I think I’ll just have to avoid answering from now on.

Cartooning for Capitalism

It’s a sad state of affairs when the demise of a once-major American city is laid at the feet of the wrong people. If Detroit is seeking bankruptcy protection, why is no finger of blame pointing at the companies which have shipped jobs to places where labour is less protected, fueled calls for lower taxes, and taken big bail-outs from government when their own decisions have driven their businesses downward, all the while compensating their executives at a level that allows them to earn in the first few hours of a new year the equivalent of what they pay their workers for the whole year?

There may be some level of blame to be reserved for politicians who seem to cave so easily to those corporate interests, but the unions trying to establish and protect a reasonable level of income and other essential benefits for those creating the value? I can’t accept that.

That editorial cartoonists, likely working for major corporate interests themselves, should blame those who will most suffer the consequences of a dying city while the company skips off to earn huge returns on investments for its wealthy shareholders by lowering labour standards and evading taxes, is not so much unexpected as it is disappointing. Shame on them.

PR12E02 Can’t a Model Catch a Break?

I’m getting a late start at my coverage of this season of Project Runway (not that I have written about any of the other seasons), but I wanted to see if I could write something that would complement the coverage I read voraciously on the blog I Should Be Laughing. His post on this particular episode here. Let’s see if I have something else to offer…

We started this week’s episode with the delivery of millions of dollars’ worth of jewelry in an armored car with armed security guards. You just knew that was going to impress Timothy (Mr. Sustainable Designer), and all went as predicted (not impressed by money or jewels). While I tend to agree with him on that particular point, he might be in the wrong line of work if he thinks he can be a top designer and continue eschewing those things. Maybe they are keeping him around for the entertainment value alone?

More ranting on Timothy. It was quite funny to see that when the designers chose their models for the week Timothy got last pick. This allowed someone else to choose Timothy’s model from last week, and she seemed relieved to not be facing another trip to the runway without makeup, hair…or shoes! Her relief may have been misplaced, though, as we shall see later. Timothy’s thinking about makeup seems to have changed this week, based on the very convincing affirmation of the l’Oréal guy that “l’Oréal is wonderful with sustainability.” Who needs more evidence than that? Not Timothy. Hair products, however, will have to wait for next week, I suppose.

We had some fin with Sandro this week. English is not his first language, as we can all tell from the accent and the word choices, and that leads to some funny expressions as he tries to communicate. I particularly loved “Does anybody have a pin? I need to sew my hookers.” I believe he was talking about hook fasteners, but I did laugh out loud. Not so cool, however, was the snarky “Speak proper English” from Ken when he and Sandro were having a verbal fight in the sewing room. Sandro does seem to be on the verge of a breakdown, flitting between anger and tears at the drop of a … hooker … so I’m a bit worried about how that will play out. I like how he hasn’t really bothered to learn everyone’s name, though, as exemplified in his calling out to Alexander while in line at Mood: “Hey, Red Hair….”.  Too funny.

Oh, one more Sandro thing. A horrible leopard print shirt he was wearing on sewing day. Not what you think, but the print depiction of a leopard hide stretched out for drying, or whatever one does with hides. Okay, two things. His pants on runway day were horrible: too high and beltless at the top. I’m expecting a lot more tacky coming from him, until he explodes and storms off, alternately shouting and crying as he walks into traffic outside the hotel or the work space.

Favourite critique lines of the week:

• Tim to Dom: “You don’t want her to look like a gold-digging floosie.”
• Tim to Timothy: “One hot mess. It has ticket home written all over it.”
• Zac to Sandro: “…it goes a little trashy.” (Michael Kors he isn't: MK would have had a lot more amusing things to say.)
• Still on Sandro’s creation, a sentence begin by Nina and completed by guest judge Eric Daman: “It walks the line between…” “…stripper and chic.”

So back to our unfortunate model. Last week, Timothy sent her down the runway in a dress he had “textured” by burning the nylon with a lighter (a very sustainable process, I’m sure), no makeup, no hair products and no shoes. He, however, wore some sparkly high heels for the occasion, which is just unkind toward his model! This week, she had the great fortune of having been chosen by Helen, who spent so much time offering unsolicited advice to her co-contestants that she ran out of time to finish her own look. Helen learned how not to do cups on a gown, which she had never done before, so a one-day competition would be a good time to learn, right? And her special technique on the sides ended up looking like “hairy hips” (as one judge put it), with some unintentional ruching on the back (Helen’s own words).

The so-called anonymity of the runway show was a little compromised when Helen burst into tears at the arrival of her model, causing an interruption while Heidi sent Tim over to calm her down. So our lucky model went from her accident victim look of week one with Timothy to a gown with deflated boobs, hairy hips and riding up in the back with Helen. She must be thinking that the model prize is a bit out of reach for her.

Maudit Blip de m****!

(This article is also published in English on PositiveLite.com here)

Lors de mon plus récent rendez-vous trimestriel chez le médecin, l’infirmière a commencé en me posant des questions inquiétantes. Est-ce que j’ai arrêté de prendre mes médicaments? Avais-je manqué plusieurs doses? Après ces deux questions, j’avais des questions à poser à elle : est-ce que ça signifie que j’ai une charge virale détectable, et qu’est-ce que c’est?

La réponse à ma question impertinente (d’habitude, on attend le médecin avant de discuter des résultats de mes tests) a rétablit ma sérénité, ou presque. La charge virale détectable que j’avais était de 125. Le test que j’ai pris toute de suite après va nous dire si c’était un « blip » quand je vais téléphoner après les trois semaines d’attente pour le résultat. Comme la terminologie ne va pas être familière pour tout le monde qui va lire ce billet, je pensais que ce serait intéressant d’explorer le sujet ici.

Sensibilité du test

Quand on discute le résultat d’un test de charge virale, il est important de le mettre dans le contexte du degré de sensibilité du test. Au début de mon traitement, les laboratoires au Québec utilisaient des tests sensibles jusqu’à 500 copies du virus par millilitre de sang. Tout résultat inférieur à ce niveau était « indétectable » par le test. Que cette désignation ne signifiait pas une charge virale de zéro a toujours été souligné par la manière dont le laboratoire me communiquait le résultat. Pour eux, « indétectable » était « 499 » — un rappel pour moi qu’il était toujours possible que le virus soit présent, et peut-être juste au-dessous du seuil de détectabilité. Impossible à mesurer, en effet.

En mi-1999, le Québec a adopté des tests de charge virale sensibles jusqu’à 50 copies par millilitre. Ce changement a été accompagné d’une campagne d’information pour les patients pour expliquer que les premiers résultats des nouveaux tests n’étaient pas nécessairement comparables à ceux des anciens. Mes résultats d’indétectabilité étaient maintenant marqués « 49 » comme vous auriez pu deviner. Ensuite, en 2010 et sans préavis, nous avons passé aux tests sensibles jusqu’à 40 copies par millilitre (indétectable = 39). Il paraît que le changement de 50 à 40 ne justifiait pas de grosses explications.

Suivre les résultats

J’ai démontré dans le passé ma faiblesse pour les chiffres traduites en graphiques (un vrai « geek » moi). Ceci me permet de les suivre mieux de de mieux apprécier les tendances sur le long terme. Les résultats de charge virale se suivent sur une échelle logarithmique, où chaque étape vaut dix fois l’étape précédente, comme vous allez remarquer de la graphique reproduite ici. Quand on la regarde, on voit clairement quatre des cinq « blips » que j’ai eu au cours des quinze dernières années (en effet, quinze ans et demi!). Le moins perceptible était celui d’un « 40 » quand indétectable était 39, et celui-là aurait pu être une erreur de rapport par quelqu’un moins habitué à la façon de faire du laboratoire.

Vus dans le contexte de l’ensemble de mes résultats, mes « blips » ne semblent pas être si dramatiques. Nous avons toujours fait un autre test toute de suite après un résultat détectable, et ces tests de suivi sont toujours revenus indétectable, me permettant de respirer normalement. La première fois que j’ai eu un « blip » j’ai presque paniqué, certain que ça signalait le début du développement de résistance et un chemin vers des médicaments de sauvetage qui seraient plus difficiles à prendre, et ensuite la mort en peu de temps. Une chance que je ne m’adonne pas au drame, non?

La deuxième fois, le « blip » était mon plus grand et dans le contexte d’un test sensible jusqu’à 50 copies par millilitre 1169 me semblait assez important. Un autre anomalie, je suis revenu à indétectable. Celui de 187? Rien du tout. Je suis devenu assez blasé par rapport à ma capacité de revenir à l’indétectabilité et j’avais beaucoup de confiance en moi et mon record d’adhérence. Comme j’ai dit, le 40 était si probablement une erreur de rapport que nous n’avons même pas fait un test de suivi.

Et maintenant 125. J’ai confiance que celui-ci sera aussi un « blip » et non pas l’indicateur d’un échec de traitement, mais nous verrons avec le résultat du test de suivi. Je dors tranquillement en attendant.

Qu’est-ce que ça veut dire?

Il y a plusieurs possibles interprétations pour une augmentation ou un « blip » dans la charge virale. Ça peut indiquer le début de résistance qui mènerait à un échec de traitement, mais il faut avoir la patience d’attendre pour voir le résultat dans son contexte de résultats avant et après. Si l’augmentation est très marquée, il y aurait de quoi à vous inquiéter, mais même là les choix de traitements aujourd’hui sont multiples et l’indétectabilité n’est pas nécessairement plus loin qu’un petit changement de médicaments.

Aux niveaux assez bas, j’ai toujours compris que c’était soit la manifestation des variations quotidiennes dans la charge virale, soit l’imprécision des mesures laboratoires ou des erreurs. Dans le cas des variations, il est toujours utile d’avoir un rappel de temps en temps que la charge virale peut varier dû à un nombre de facteurs, dont l’adhérence et d’autres infections, et le « blip » sert d’appel à la vigilance pour ces facteurs. Dans le cas d’imprécision ou d’erreurs de laboratoire, il est également utile de se faire rappeler que notre science n’est pas aussi précise ou facile à interpréter que l’on peut penser si on écoute trop de télévision (en particulier les émissions impliquant des sciences forensiques).

Est-ce que ça veut dire que j’étais plus infectieux à ces moments? Oui, légèrement, mais cela mérite un peu de contexte aussi. Je n’était pas très heureux de la décision récente de notre Cour suprême sur la criminalisation de la non-divulgation du statut sérologique, mais leur standard de charge virale basse, permettant la non-divulgation avec utilisation du condom, dépasse le plus grand de mes « blips ». La Cour suprême a identifié le niveau de 1500 copies par millilitre comme étant une charge virale basse, et plusieurs croient que cette décision était trop conservatrice.

Donc, nous verrons ce qui va me dire mon test de suivi (je vais partager le résultat dans les commentaires). En attendant, je tiens à assurer mon adhérence avec une vigueur renouvelée.

Way Way Entertaining

There’s nothing quite like a sullen, introverted teen to add life to a movie. Or depth to an acting career, perhaps? All you have to do is maintain a lifeless expression, mumble briefly in response to comments that are directed your way and go off on your own a lot. On the other hand, there is nothing quite as uplifting as seeing such a sullen, introverted teen come into his own, if only a little, and start to be a part of something.

This is that movie. Parents divorcing, the boy gets dragged along on a summer vacation away from his familiar setting, to what one of the other characters described as “Spring Break for Adults”, a New England beach town. It didn’t help that they were going to the summer place of his mother’s new boyfriend, played like a total dick by Steve Carell.

From telling him he was a “3” (on a scale of 10) on the trip there to making him the only one to have to wear a lifejacket on an outing on a friend’s boat, Carell’s character thoroughly alienates our sullen teen. It doesn’t help when the teen sees him in compromising situations with the wife of the boat friend (i.e. cheating on his mother).

One little thing that I will have to learn to get past is my identification of Toni Collette with her “United States of Tara” character. I kept expecting her personality to change, especially during moments of stress! I know that’s not fair, but it will only wear off after I get to see her in more and varied roles. In this role, I don’t particularly like her character until she finally sides with her son.

There’s a way out and a way forward, however. Finding a little girl’s bike in the garage, our teen rides forth to explore and discovers the local waterpark. It’s the kind of place that you spend all your time at when the beach is not an option for you, and the staff is as laid back and welcoming as you would want them to be.

Sam Rockwell’s character, owner of the waterpark, is a smooth operator and probably sees his own awkward youth in our teen. Or he sees any number of awkward teens who frequent his waterpark day in and day out through the summer. Whatever his motivation, he makes a place for our teen to be a part of something, and you can see the positive effect on him. More confident, even happier, he’s almost able to talk to the neighbour girl in a way that stimulates her to continue the conversation. But, like I said, it is always a joy to watch an outcast find his place and blossom.

I won’t spoil the ending so much as I will describe a couple of my favourite parts. First, the relationship between neighbour Allison Janney and her lazy-eyed son River Alexander. Janney plays the kind of brassy party girl of a certain age that I would normally not warm to, but some exchanges with her son on the subject of where he is looking (eyes pointing in different directions making that difficult to discern) are laugh-out-loud funny.

The other one is the warmth of Sam Rockwell’s character. It helps that he’s easy on the eyes, but his character shows warmth and friendliness for all kinds of misfits — pretty and not — and he has a couple of serious moments that will make you want to cry. Intervening between Steve Carell and Liam James (have I gone on this long without mentioning the name of the actor playing the sullen teen?) is one of the best of those moments.

It isn’t the film of the century for sure, and the plot might be somewhat predictable (when you’re focused on a sullen teen, there are pretty much only two ways to go with it, and this was billed as a comedy, not a tragedy), but it was good fun to watch. Even in my freshly rain-soaked state, despite the odd too-loud laughing of the guy down front (sometimes he laughed for no apparent reason) and in the face of the menacing thunder outside that we could hear all the way into our cinema. Go see it.