Hermestra is my Tiger Daemon

by S. Morgenstern...

In 1984, I was in my first year of High School, and in the fall of that year Saturday Night Live busted out a new cast. As far as I can tell this was the first year I really watched a whole season of SNL, a show I had grazed on from time to time. I know that I had zero memory of what most people at the time still thought of as Saturday Night Live. That is, Belushi-Aykroyd-Murray, and to some extent, Chase. So when I was able to stay up late, and the opening of the show got some snazzy 2d composited graphics, I started tuning in. Billy Crystal and Chris Guest pretty much set my adult comic sensibilities that year. There were others on the show, most notably Marty Short in the second half of the year when he brought the best of his SCTV legacy with him. But Crystal and Guest jelled everything together for me. They set up everything in me that I think is truly, rolling around funny. They were peaking, and I was 13, it's a potent combination.

The fun could have stopped there, of course. But then I got hold of Spinal Tap. And then, The Princess Bride happened.

The Princess Bride is the cinematic experience for me. I saw it 6 times in theatres, more importantly, I saw it 4 times in the first 2 weeks. It combined perfectly the deep comedy that SNL had been giving me with that "tingly" chill thing I had gotten from some of the fantasy stuff I loved (the Hobbit cartoon comes to mind). Even though 20 years on it's been downgraded to kids film by most, The Princess Bride is an achievement. It is both archly comic and deeply emotional, often in the same scene, often in the same performance. It is endlessly quotable and enjoyable. It is the standard by which I judge all similar work by.

This same loose group, Crystal, Guest, Rob Reiner, Bruno Kirby and others also defined some other genres along the way. Is there a better mid-life movie than City Slickers? A better modern rom-com than When Harry Met Sally? A better pure comedy than Waiting for Guffman?

Most of what's on TV and in movies these days descends from this stuff, too. The Office and Curb Your Enthusiasm owe everything to Chris Guest. Miramax and the Weinstein brothers wouldn't be anything at all if When Harry Met Sally hadn't laid out the blueprint they successfully mined for years. All right, we could have had a better crop of mid-life stuff, but that doesn't take away from how great city slickers is by a long shot.


Which brings me to this:

It's the first trailer for stardust


Yeah, I know. The Princess Bride has a legacy, too, now.

Road safety that does NOT work here.

dammit.

Here's whats happenin', in visual form:

This is Max, about a week before hallowe'en, experimenting with a whole "zippy the pin head" costume idea.

Here's most of my costume, the porniest seventies moustache I could muster, for authenticity in my Star Trek get up.


This is a couple of nice shots from our day at the Royal Winter Fair.

Oh, and here's what the car looked like after the accident when I visited it at the impound yard.

pianist envy

Okay.... so one thing I actually fully intended to blog about a couple of weeks ago when we were out apple picking was this: Pingle's Farm, where we went to pick the apples, has some seriously weird-ass imagery going on. Seriously. Weird-assed. Shit. Man.

Check this out:







Am I wrong, or is that a giant vulva those kids are climbing in and out of?



That is the entrance/exit to one of those inflatable bouncy-room injury factory type things. Kids both shimmying into that thing and exiting it face first made for one of the most enjoyably bizarre sights I've seen in a while.


Then we found a giant checkers game with man sized checker pieces. Here's what they looked like:


What the hell are they putting in those pies, anyways? Has no one noticed the extreme sexualization of these children's objects?


Not that I'm objecting. I think we need to expose the inherent sexuality of childhood more. It's just rarely on such unambiguous display.

Quick, Cover The Delorean!

Max is now completely into Back to the Future. We watched part one about a month ago. Since then he's seen one of the three movies at least once every day. We ordered a Delorean scale model. Max sleeps with it.

The thing is that from day one, he had no trouble with keeping track of the implications of the time travel. He thinks fourth dimensionally as well as anyone I've ever met. He likes all three movies, although he has spent significantly more time on part 3, which after all has guns and exploding trains in it. He's warming up to part 2 slowly, which is fitting given the darker nature of it. But what's most gratifying about this for me is that these movies, which I have said numerous times represent for me the pinnacle of big budget summer moviemaking are now just as special to him.


The toy is incredibly detailed. Max specifically did not want a Mr. Fusion model, so we went with the classic part 1 incarnation (you can get a car for each of the three movies). There is a tiny little set of time circuits inside there, along with a flux capacitor and the little digital speed gauge. As you can see, the gullwing doors are fully functional. There's even a detachable "lightning hook" for simulating the end of the movie. Max is busy making plans to construct his own Hill Valley, in part so he can show it to people and say: "please excuse the crudeness of this model." And in part so he can electrify the model and set the car on fire, I'm afraid.

The other thing about this is of course that the entire Back to the Future series is essentially about the past; the upshot being that we've now been able to introduce such concepts as the old west and westerns, Chuck Berry, blacksmithing, Jules Verne, and Huey Lewis and The News. All of which sticks a grin on my face about a mile wide every time I think about it.

your life does not flash in front of your eyes, mostly the inside of your car flashes in front of your eyes

I totalled our car about 4 hours ago. We're fine, really. Max seems completely intact, he has a small friction burn on his neck from the seat belt. Leah has a pain in her foot, but no visible bruising and she can wiggle her toes and put weight on it. I have some shooting pain in my left arm, about a 2 on the pain scale, but I saw a paramedic and we both agreed that this is probably just a sprain from gripping the wheel too tightly during the impact.

Okay, so, as near as I can figure it here is what happened.

We were in the passing lane, on the 401 coming east back from a bucolic day of hay rides, corn labyrinths and apple picking (couldn't you just barf?). We were going with the flow of traffic, maybe 115-125 clicks when the car in front of me (yes there were at least 3 chevrons between us) suddenly swerved.

Now there was a large (about a metre long) piece of truck tire lying across the lane in front of me. I swerved, the car started to fish tail wildly, I lost complete control and hit the divider going pretty fast. At the point of impact we were turned 90 degrees to the lane just about. The airbags fired, the hood flew up and covereed the windshield, we were blind and deaf and right in the middle of oncoming traffic.

No one hit us. This is the actual miracle, since we would have been t-boned and I at the very least would have had to watch as my wife was killed or injured right in front of me. I remember that I could smell smoke, which I assumed was a fire but which occurred to me later was probably just the smell the airbags make when they explode out of their respective compartments. I got directly out of the car and got away from it. We stood on the inside shoulder, lifted Max up onto the divider and did a cursory check for injury.

The car got towed to an impound lot. I'll never see that car again, it's totalled for sure. Now I just have to wait for a cheque from the insurance and start all over again.

Some random thoughts about what was expected versus what happened. Time does indeed seem to slow down, so that every thing that happens during impact seems quite compartmentalized and distinct. You do not go into shock, or at least I didn't, but Leah got very dizzy and had to sit down until her colour returned. I did not have any problem getting right back in the car and driving again about an hour later when we had been given a rental. I did drive a little "extra careful" at first, but no fear or anxiety to speak of. I am totally exhausted now, and it's only 8 o'clock. I do not have any sense of heightened sensation, like the whole "air smells sweeter since I brushed with death" phenomenon.

So I'm home, and I'm sure I'll spend the next few weeks thinking about how I might adjust my driving habits, but other than that all this is is a bureaucratic process that will result either in being given some money, or having to pay some. On to other things.

sweet fuckin' jesus!

What the fuck are you people doing with your time? Who checks an un-updated-for-four-months blog the day after they get married? Get off the internet and begin having sex already, will ya?!? Christ, do i have to do everything around here?

crank it over

I was going to write a real cute little "reasons I started and subsequently stopped blogging" pieces. but really, who cares? it's not like anyone is reading this, so..... okay. This blog existed, and really still exists, as a chronicle of my life before my life now. Amazingly, begrudgingly, I fit in to my current situation. I had perhaps the worst day in a year at work today, a completely disorganized and incompetent string of events all of my making, and it was still a better day by a mile than any day at the last place.

It's just past Yom Kippur, and while it's officially the day of atonement, it's also the end of the first go round of fall jewish holidays, and so I'm thinking about it more like it's thanksgiving as well. So, here are the yin yang of me:

I'm grateful that I have probably the best boss in the world.

I'm sorry I'm spending more time daydreaming about how great it would be if I had everything I wanted. It wouldn't be great, that's for sure. Besides for all practical purposes I already have everything I wanted.

I'm grateful that max loves Back to the Future so much that we will in all likelihood be attempting to build a scale model of Hill Valley.

I'm sorry I don't get involved with school for him. Leah gets right in there, volunteers, knows when pizza day is, gets involved. Something holds me back. I'll never be the parent I want to be.

I'm grateful that I get to work with people who's company I enjoy. I like just hanging out talking to them.I picked them, and I picked great.

I'm sorry I'm not going to finish the one minute movie. But I'm not. I'm just smart enough to know in my heart that I'm no good at that. I'd love to make movies, but I self censor with the best of 'em.


I'm grateful that I can write this stuff down, send it out there, and after six months of inactivity be reasonably sure that no one will read it.

It's 4:30 am. I'm fashionably late, dude.

Hello!

I have a reservation, over there, at the Buffy table. Let me know when you can seat me. Yes, 'tis true. On this past weekend, I finally got over the hump. I see what the fuss is all about. I understand the fervor, I truly do. I am on board, people. Vampire Willow, Vampire Xander, Teenage feelin' Giles making out with the buffster's mom, these things are all to the good. Truly, the only experience I've had like this has been with comic books. Let me 'splain. No, too long, let me sum up.

i) Before I even started, I had borrowed, watched, and grown to love the one and only Firefly. It is lovely, and I was in love with it. Wash became more than my fave character, as far as I could tell I am wash in many aspects. I lurved this show, and so had gained purchase in the burgeoning whedonverse. (try saying burgeoning whedonverse 5 times fast)

1) I started the Buffy about 18 months ago with Matt's season one, having been warned about the cheesy badness, and having resolved to "stick it out" because the show gets "much much better".

2) watched all of season one in about a month, and yes, it is truly with the sucking. A dopey, run of the mill, boringly choreographed action monster hootenanny, about on par with everything else I don't watch on Space. Ooh, Xander's like Chandler, only Chandler was funny. I returned season 1 to Matt, and due to an unavailablility problem, borrowed season 2 from Dave, still willing to persist because in spite of everything there were still small moments of promise amongst the dreck, and I am nothing if not persisty.

3) Serenity was having one of those fan sneak previews. I went. I went in knowing that some drastic stuff was supposed to happen. Then, for no good reason, he killed Wash. That's when the air went out of me, and I spent the last 20 minutes hoping that everyone else would die too, and thoroughly not enjoying myself. It truly didn't help when I was cheerfully informed that "that's what Joss does. He kills people you care about for no reason, so that you can really feel the randomness of the loss. death in nonsensical, random and stupid, so just get over it."

4) I resolved not to keep watching Buffy, because if he was just gonna kill people off for no reason and with absolutely no style, and this was gonna be a virtue of the piece, why spend time investing myself in a buncxh of characters whose outcome is randomly determined anyways?

5) The summer ended with much reading (His Dark Materials, indeed) and much job hunting, and then TV started again, and then the job was successfully killed, stuffed and mounted, and then with the DVD's and xmas movies and podcast and oscars and the yada yada. And season 2 of Buffy just sat quietly on my shelf, forgotten about.

6) The job got easier, more routine and more fun. TV ended for the summer. DVD's were caught up with (mostly). And I looked at my shelves, and there was Buffy, and I just thought, christ, how long am I gonna hold a grudge? I think a year's enough for anyone. And so there it went.

7) season 2, while marginally better, was still just more of the same old shit I wasn't diggin' the first time around. Episode 17 was the key, I was told, the turning point that ramps it up and spins your head around into digsville, man. So I sticks. With it. And then, you know what? Yeah, it's better. Not that much better, though. But I see what could be, and so I'm okay with keping on. The finale actually rocks, and all the more when they kill Kendra, the accent that walks like a slayer, and so I'm now officially psyched. I return season 2, grab season 3, and giddyup.

8) SEASON 3 OF BUFFY ROCKS HARD SO FAR. I am really really loving this. The last time this happened, it was comics, It was animal man, which spends about 10 issues just being a regular comic book about a guy with animal powers, and progresses into an examination of storytelling itself. Buffy is exactly like that, in a way, like a regular monthly book that juuuusst skates by for like a year, never getting good, but never bad enough to make you stop collecting, and then suddenly BAM! It's not like all that mediocre shit didn't happen, it's just that now it all means something.

So, I'm in, like I said. I'm hoping to finish to the end of season 4 by next week, so that I can have something to discuss at length when I'm making the pilgrammage to Hi Mom! in North Carolina. It's a long ride, and I'm just glad to have something hefty to chew on, fat wise.

Take stock

Tuesdays. A couple of Tuesdays each month, I get up abnormally early. This week it was 5 am. Last week was even earlier, 3am.

I do this so I can go into my store and count the stuff inside it. In a normal business, you would do this maybe once or twice a year. In our business, target as it is for thieves and the like, it gets done 28 times a year. So here's what's involved:

It's 5am, or whatever. I pile into my car, half asleep, and drive as fast as I can to the nearest 24 hour Tim Hortons, whereupon I purchase an extra large double double. For those who have never had the pleasure, this is a coffee roughly the size of a regular McDonalds coke. It contains by my estimation 5 tablespoons of sugar and about a quarter cup of cream. I also get a bagel, toasted, with butter and cheddar cheese. This will be my entire sustaining nutrition until about one o'clock, when I can finally break for lunch. Then I go pick up whoever is helping me count that week. Then it's off to the store, arriving at about 6am in most cases.

Once inside, the fun begins. I go merrily around my store and count everything inside it, recording it dutifully, bar code by bar code, on a little hand held scanner type thingy. This is especially fun when you are counting something like ice cream bars or packs of trading cards. Some people, when they operate this thing, actually develop a repetitive strain type pain in their hand. I have been lucky so far, no pain, no particular discomfort. After about 2.5 straight hours of counting everything, we are done. Then I remember all the stuff I forgot to count, stuff put away in drawers, in my office, etc. Then once that stuff is all counted, I can transfer the results from the little handheld thingys into the big bad mainframe thingy.

Unless there's a problem. Which at the stage at which you are transferring, there often seems to be. The first time I did one of these, it didn't work, and we had to count everything all over again. And then a third time. And then again. After coming in at 5:30 am that day, things were still being recounted when I left, at around 3:30 pm. Apparently everything wasn't completed until 8pm that night. Oh, and did I mention that all the extra recounting was due entirely to the fact that someone had set up the little handheld scanner thingy with the wrong date in it? That's all it was, and that was enough to generate twice the work as was normal.

Once the big bad mainframe has those results, it's smooth sailing. stuff prints out, reports and such, and these are rechecked for accuracy and any obvious errors. Then I make final adjustments, and then post the final results. Then I do all the other tuesday stuff, put out all our promotional stuff for the week, hang posters, etc. Then I'm done.

Then I grab as many people as I can find, and we go out for a well deserved brunch. Then I go home and try to sleep, unsuccessfully. So I often make and eat some chicken soup, which is what the title of this post is really all about.

Happy Easter, Christians!

they killed your lord
they killed him good
they made Mel Gibson happy!

they strung him up
they bled him out
they made you all get sappy!

he got back up
or so YOU say
he really was quite snappy!

they killed your lord
they killed him good
too bad this poem is crappy.

and another thing

work has been such a nonstop spiral of stress and long hours, coupled with the no eating and little sleeping, that I now weigh less than 230 pounds for the first time since 2001. I know it's only temporary and that if I don't start adding more exercise to my life I won't keep it off, but damn it feels good to look in the mirror and like myself just a bit more. Amazingly, you burn a lot of calories just simply standing up and moving all day.

i have problems with my memory

I went to see V For Vendetta last night. Excellent, just excellent in many ways, although I think a lot of the enjoyment stems from seeing something I really liked in book form made into a movie which seemed to capture everything I liked about it. The movie just seemed like as faithful an adaptation as it would be possible to make, every scene straight from the book.

I came home, thumbed through my copy and realized that I just don't remember the book at all. None of the scenes track from the book. Individual moments, yes, but pacing and scene length and placement have been completely reworked. I couldn't believe how much was changed structurally, and yet it all seemed completely faithful. That's how you adapt someone else's work, buddy. I'm even more impressed than I was watching it. I'm going to give it a thorough read through, then do the imax thing later this week.

Also, the one thing I definitely remembered not being adapted from the book was a scene where V lays out the basic tenets of philosophical anarchy. I remembered the scene being about a 2 to 3 page discussion. In reality, Moore devotes exactly 2 panels at the bottom of one page to it.

Whoosh

My car died a premature death. We bought a new one earlier tonight. I got like $3000 off list. Here's how you do that, by the way:

1) Do all your research ahead of time, on line, consumers reports, car mags, etc. Know exactly what you want before you even test drive.

2) If you do have more than one legit pick and need to decide, drive them all in the same day, and tell the salesperson that you can't decide anything until you've driven them all.

3) Pick one. Be decisive. As long as they are all roughly in your price range, just pick one and stick with it. Go back to that dealer, unless they sucked, and then find another dealer that sells that same car.

4) Once you know you want the car, walk up to the salesperson and say "unless you can't help me, I'm buying a "_________" today."

5) Let them know exactly what options and packages you are gonna need. Let them work out the numbers. Know whether you want a loan or a lease (hint: you want a lease for a new car)

6) Take a look at the payment number. Decide how much less than that you actually want to pay (a good rule of thumb is to ask for about 10% off the price. Dealers don't usually have much more to give) Say" if you can make the payment X dollars (the 10% off rule) I will take the car right now.

7) Wait. let them think about it. Usually they will want to get the managers permission for such a big discount. They may ask you for a credit card at this point. Give it to them and say "if you can match my price, go ahead and put down a deposit. we will have a deal at that price"

8) They will NEVER match your deal. NEVER. They will however come back with something close, like maybe 7.5% off. Hem and haw, and then say that you can't swing the payment. Ask if you can meet them in the middle between 7.5% and 10%. That's like 8.5-9% off list price. They will generally agree.

On a 25,000 car, you just saved $2125 off of list.

If this doesn't work, you are in a badly run dealership. GET OUT. Any decent salesperson who hears a client say to them directly "I want to buy this car today, and I'm willing to give you a deposit provided you meet my price" is going to bend over backwards for you with their boss, because they know it's easy money for them. They don't have to spend all that time convincing you to say yes, you just said it right off the bat. It's the sure thing.

Katanga!

Meet the new "dark wizard catcher" in Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix. Meet him, or prepare for the worst.



My month of tv-less-ness seems to be coming to an end; Leah has finally figured out how to deal with the cords for the new blinds, and so once the valance is hung I will be back in business. I've spent the last month watching everything on the laptop, including TV. Bah! That's no way to appreciate art. I've also managed to get completely caught up with both Lost and Veronica Mars, and I've come to the somewhat shocking conclusion that I actually like Veronica Mars more. A manageable number of characters and a no less audacious agenda have just propelled this thing into the stratosphere for me. Sure, it's a soapy concoction but holy jiminy they just keep puttin' the whammy on me week after freakin' week.

I'm also basically done with the film noir collection (about 8 more titles are on back order, and another 4 are about to be announced, bringing the grand total at this point to 91 titles!!!) having picked up everything available in a decent print right now. So it's crunch time. In the end, it's come down to two genres, both of which I have very defined interests in; Musicals and Westerns. Since Max is six (or about to be) I figured to go with the Musicals first after all. He'll like them more. Westerns will have to wait until at least 2007. Curtain Up, on with the show. Next stop, Busby Berkeley.

Stevenote '06

Yes, yes, Mac enthusiasts were gathered together to see just what was in store at the big Macworld Keynote Address given as always by our hero, Steve Jobs. Honestly, is there any more fun to be had then in following a company that seems to exist only to do what it considers to be cool? I think not.

Like in other years, people's predictions surrounding what was going to happen far outweighed what actually took place. 50" Plasma TV's with intel VIIV platforms built in for seamless downloading of digital content right into the living room? Nope. iBooks that weigh less than 2 pounds and deliver better performance than a dual core G5 tower? Nope. A preview of OS X 10.5, Leopard? Nope again.

What we did get was a smokin' fast improvement on the current powerbooks (making it the fastest laptop in production, apparently) that now include an eyesight camera where the enclosure lock used to be. This is good, making a camera a standard part of every computer like a microphone and speakers have become. Of course I want one, but I am content to wait the next 2 years out until the current equipment is paid for and has outlived its usefullness.

What does interest me is the iLife upgrade, if only because Garageband has been outfitted with some kind of "podcast studio" type of functionality that would likely benefit Mamo. Sound quality, while improved, still isn't anywhere near where I'd like it to be, so I will be heading in to Long and McQuade some time next month to see what can be done about it. Plus I'd like to take a whack at adding some chapter stops, theme music, and other niceties if I can.


Our subscriber list took a hit recently, and it's just coming back around this week. The big drag down coincides with the holidays, which I guess makes sense. Thanks a lot, Jesus.

what just happened?

my first post in what seems like a month, as I wait to see if Dave is actually on-line, or just xbox live on-line which makes him look all available but in fact means he's playing games and can't talk right now.

I am just a little bit drunk right now. For the first time in forever, I decided to go to a bar (Allen's) and just drink far too much. which in my case is 4 pints in 2 hours, hardly a record, but as Matt points out, I'm past the point of finding it impressive how MUCH or how FAST I can drink it. Since when is that a test?

All I know is that it actually felt pretty good to pour myself into a cab after a night of drinking and laughing, and I feel good and content and warm in the feet sitting here in bed blogging this all up. Leah and Max are away, so I'm single for 48 hours, and drunkenly happy about the whole thing.

Even if I do have to get up tomorrow and go figure out how to start a dead car by using only the telephone.

actually, for an ice floe this is really quite comfortable

I just had to fill out a questionnaire online. When it came time to pick my age, I had to put myself in the "35-49" category. Ugh. My opinion is the same as someone's grandpa when it comes to filling out surveys. And just 10 days ago I was still completely relevant.

Something this powerful cannot be diluted

It's almost 4:30 in the morning, and I have been awake for an hour. Which is good, because on Wednesday of this week I will need to be leaving my house by now to go to work. Every 2 weeks or so we need to be in our stores by 5:00 am, something I'm not sure I've ever done before. Should be interesting.

I've spent the last hour doing homework, something I should have been doing all weekend but couldn't bring myself to actually pick up. The last 48 hours has been entirely Kong related. Also there was some shopping, but I'm choosing not to focus on that. I've decided that I need to embrace my utter lack of clothing originality and just get with the fact that I am a TipTop Tailor kind of guy. If and when I ever have any real money to spend, I would do well to remember that and not fool myself into thinking I need to upgrade to Harry Rosen. That just gets expensive.

But back to the various simian delights. From opening The Production Diaries, something I never in a million years thought I was going to need (but I completely do) to seeing the movie for the first of what will undoubtedly be many many times, to the great birthday dinner where 3 different large parties felt the need to launch into a spontaneous happy birthday sing-off to Meredith's christmas do, Saturday was as nice a day as I have ever had to celebrate my birthday in. Once again I am ever grateful to still have so many people to celebrate it with. Wasn't I supposed to be isolated and bitter by now? What happened to that plan, dammit?

Sunday was brunched up with Leah's cousin getting engaged in front of many people who's faces I recognized and who's names always escape me. I am just no damn good with the names. What is wrong with me? (Don't answer that.) Then it was back to Kong, with the long rumoured jumbo sized mamo and a birthday present of even more Peter Jackson with the director's cut of The Frighteners.

Mamo continues to surprise me at just how much fun it is, still after 30 of these things. I think I truly have found something I would do for free; spout off on whatever takes my fancy. Then home to a simple repast of salad, cheese and bread, some dvd collection cataloguing and the aforementioned homework. I was in bed by 10:30, up again 5 hours later (something I have learned not to question is my body's ability to just wake up for no reason once in a while) and more homework at that point. I am going to spend the next hour finishing up as much reading as I can do, then drive to work and visualize myself delegating responsibly. Then maybe some lunch.

panther quick and leather tough

I made myself some elk for dinner tonight. And it was good.

The great thing about having a butcher, as opposed to shopping at loblaws, is that I'm not scared to ask for advice. Things don't have to be so complicated, food wise. I love trying new stuff, and the best part is it isn't even expensive.

There's only about four basic rules for food, and after that it's just about how you combine them.

1) Always cream the butter and the sugar.
2) Sear, don't steam.
3) Don't burn the eggs.
4) Work clean.

If you can do these four things well, you can cook. period. everything else is just technique and bullshit.

120 hours

Gryfe. Price. Brown. Horton. Au. Lu. Parham. Davidson. Bidiasee. Jones. Troup. Szpirglas. Brown. Brown. Gorber. Nolan. Rouillard. Dault. Keen. MacLean. Mitanidis. Gryfe. Brimblecombe. Sullivan. Campbell. Allard. McLean. Schoedsack. Cooper. O'Brien. Kong. Murti. Avis. Dawe.