"Gravity is a motherfucker."

It's not what you think it is, this reference.

We're talking about time and space, those intangibles that occasionally manifest themselves in the strangest ways, in this case a bag that, left alone, changes shape. How did we discover this? Well, fix a camera on something, subract some frames from the middle of it, and then see how much that static object has changed.

We're having a good day editing. Always get a lot done when we have big chunks of time to work with. We always get a lot done when we have little chunks, as well. I wonder if the three lunches I ate have slowed down my mind.

On reflection, no justice

I was just thinking about how the bet I made with Meredith two posts down and then clearly won in the previous post, well, that was a one way bet. Meaning, and please excuse all this horrid writing going on here, but I am tired in old South Carolina, meaning that she didn't actually agree to the bet, so why should she pay up?

Well, here's why. Because I am exercising my 50 percent shares in a proxy vote and the tie-breaker, Elko with his single vote, is silently voting with my bloc of shares to enforce the legality of this bet.

Now, I think I'll go watch the Yankees suck in Baltimore and drink some Ultimate Meal crap for dinner.

Man, that Pasita pizza is sure going to taste good.

Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm....

Ha!

Tuesday night, Big Mer.

You owe me a pizza from Pasita whenever you read this.

I am in Columbia, South Carolina tonight and cannot wait to get home and bit.

Meredith is going yachting this weekend, but we'll manage to get some work done, anyway.

To the top!

And I'll take half Champignon and half Margherita, along with a Cremosa salad and one of those little Venezuelan chocolate cups.

You can get whatever you want on the other pizza.

From Abilene, Texas

Elko, the 13Bit tailgunner, is on the bed. I am, too, after a long, hard day slogging through Texas. Going to take the secondary highways from Dallas on through Louisiana tomorrow in search of the photography thing, kind of thing, you know, dig?

In the meantime, Meredith said she was going to post, but I'll bet I make it home before she posts a thing. In fact, even though she still owes me about 27 13Bit meals in return for film festival entry fees that I paid, I will bet her at least one meal that I will be making the next post here.

We shall see. It is now Sunday night.

"We're on to something..."

"In brightest day, in blackest night
No evil shall escape my sight.
Let those who worship evil's might
Beware my power - Green Lantern's Light!"

©DC Comics

Does This Look Like A Camera Bag or a Suitcase?

Do you really want to know about my day? I will not go into the whole tortured process of how I came to spend half my day indulging in my camera bag fetish - I actually needed this one, though - but I will say this:

The Pelican case looked too much like it was filled with tons of photo equipment. It worked well and fit in the truck seat, plus I'd be able to float away on it if the car ran into a flood on my upcoming road trip, so airtight are Pelican cases. The point is, I didn't want to be checking into 20 crappy motels in a row with a Pelican case, even a Pelican case that looks vaguely military.

So I went in search of a bag, but it had to be a very specific bag, one deep enough to accomodate a very deep still camera. See, I have the perfect bag, but not for the venerable D3.

Long story short: I found one that really works. No wheels, but that's why it works, size-wise. I had a moment of doubt, though, and held it up just now and asked Meredith "Does this look like a camera bag or a suitcase?"

She said "That's a blog post" so, since we hadn't posted yet today, here I sit. This is what we do while we edit.

The Third Click

It all comes down to fractions of a second. Tiny fractions. Teeny rhythms and changes. Deep into the cutting here and we had a small technical discussion - it was not a dispute or an argument or anything like that - about when a cut should happen. Someone grabs a mouse and then we cut to a shot of something else. The details are unimportant beyond that.

I had a very specific idea on this one. Meredith didn't really care much either way. Sometimes it's the other way around but, in this case, I felt more strongly about it than she, so I told her to cut in on the third click. That's where the actual dispute started. I don't know what planet Meredith learned about clicking on, but I heard five and a half to her three. Anyway, I relented and realized that it was not about what her perception of the click was, but where I thought it ought to be, so I took the ball briefly on this one.

She'll probably have a strong opinion about the next cut.

It's going well.