Fade In...

1944 - Gaslight
Without a washing machine in the building, Kat and I are forced to look elsewhere for our laundry needs. The easiest option is to take advantage of our local laundromat's highly convenient wash'n'fold service. Perfect for lazy husbands everywhere. You simply drop off your clothes in the morning and, just like magic, they are clean smelling and neatly folded when you pick them up in the evening. Now and then, I'll use the self-service washing machines to save a bit of money. Since the machines only take quarters, there is a handy change machine in one corner of the room. Pop in a dollar bill and out pop four quarters ... or so you would expect. Recently, upon operating this simple piece

Best Picture of 1984
One more collection of nominees out of the way and, as I've come to expect from this project, not a dud among them. However, this decision proved to be a little easier than recent verdicts, for which my tired brain is grateful.The nominees for Best Picture of 1984 are:Amadeu

1984 - A Soldier's Story
As I write this, the sun is almost below the horizon and it's only a quarter past four in the afternoon. Having lived my whole life, save the last six months, in Sydney, I'm used to daylight until at least well after five, even in the dead of winter. Here in New York City, however, I'm beginning to think, come January, it'll be dark by noon. I've never quite understood why Daylight Savings time isn't simply employed the whole year round. I mean, if it's okay to screw around with the time zones for the summer, why not for the rest of the year as well? In fact, why don't we just adjust the time zones themselves? Then we could dispense with Daylight Savings altogether... One day, I'll change t

1984 - The Killing Fields
One of the many benefits of living in New York City is that you can discover a new eatery every night (if you were so inclined) without ever having to dine at the same place twice. And there are restaurants specialising in just about everything. Yesterday, after a quick Google search for a place to eat near the location of our later plans that evening, Kat and I dined at S'MAC, a quaint little establishment whose menu consists entirely of variations of macaroni and cheese. Artery clogging, I'm sure, but delicious nonetheless.Before that culinary delight, I watched another nominee from 1984's Best Picture line-up...

1984 - Amadeus
I know I'm a week late to be discussing baseball, but has it not occurred to anyone in upper management at the MLB that it's possibly a bit of a misnomer to be calling the league's final battle the World Series. With only one team in the league that hails from outside the United States (and they're in nearby Toronto), it seems somewhat farcical to acclaim the winning team as the world champions. I guess when the MLB began, no other country was playing baseball, but even so, a bit of humility wouldn't go astray. World Series. I mean, really.Right, now that I've insulted America's pastime, which, incidentally, I enjoy watch