Persevere Court, Leith.

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I was pointlessly waddling around Leith and Newhaven again this afternoon in search of existential equilibrium. Sadly, I did not find such a level of spiritual enlightenment. I did, however, locate another treat that adorns the view from Ocean Terminal. They tell me the bad boys go by the name of ‘Persevere Court’. The first thing that popped into my head was: are sprinkler systems installed? The second: the colour scheme must have been designed by someone who has frequented far too many Ryanair flights.

Outrageous scenes.

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Leon (1994) is one of the best shot (no pun) movies ever made.

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Leon (1994) is a Sergio Leone aesthetic with a chunk of Lolita chucked in the works. The dodgy-as-fuck paedo spectacle aside, its images are pure art, Widescreen as perfection. Luc Besson is an aficionado for the inchoate screenplay, but as a pure thriller this really reaches the summit. And seldom has a movie set in New York City had literally nothing to do with New York City; it could be set in Marseilles, Edinburgh, Reykjavik. There’s something to be said for that, such are filmmakers’ obsession with the place. Personally, I don’t get it. I’ve been twice and wasn’t overly impressed; it felt like a cauldron of reprobates. And loud people roam the streets clutching fast food. Awful.

It’s just a cool-as-milk film, visuals off the scale. It doesn’t matter that the ‘Italian’ assassin sounds like Charles de Gaulle on methadone; it’s all about the framing. And Gary Oldman off his tits.

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Further reading/viewing:

https://www.empireonline.com/movies/leon/review/

https://www.tumblr.com/search/movie%20leon

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Bringing Out the Dead (1999).

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Scorsese’s last movie of the ’90s is curiously his weakest work. It’s a lazy narrative that seems enamoured with MTV standards/trends of cinematography. It also suffers from ‘The Affliction’: the liberal use of popular music tracks to paper over deficiencies in the script.

It’s a promising concept: Nicolas Cage’s paramedic, physically and emotionally drained, drives around an early ’90s Manhattan – by all accounts a crack-strewn cesspit at that time – in search of the high of saving a life, and a broader redemption as he’s haunted by those he couldn’t save.

By the one-hour mark the picture sadly has nowhere to go. There are a few moments of transcendence, particularly the final shot, but it’s all rather boring, from the cartoon character supporting roles to Cage’s … bored performance. One suspects it could have worked better as a small-scale picture, Mean Streets (1973) with a defibrillator.

The life of an ambulance driver has never looked so torporific. One of the very few Scorsese pictures I’ll pass on should it ever crop up again.

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Gorgie spring.

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It’s official – spring has hit Gorgie. Cue shirtless chavs, the foreboding jingle of ice cream vans, rammed buses, and a general increase in noise levels. I prefer the ghetto in winter because it sends these things back into the woodwork where they should remain. Happy Easter.

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Scaled Composites Stratolaunch.

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13 April, 2019 – Mojave Air and Space Port, time unknown to this writer.

The world’s largest ever plane by wingspan embarked upon its two-hour test flight, reaching an altitude of 17,000ft, coasting at a relatively underwhelming maximum speed of 189 mph. It’s just the beginning, though.

This is no Ryanair stinker. The Stratolaunch shall, as Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen envisioned, lift rockets to 35,000ft before launching them into orbit, an air to launch alternative to a traditional rocket launch.

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A higher launch point = less drag, and less cash pumped into proceedings, sub-orbital spaceflight the archaic aircraft carrying the Sputniks of the future.

Aesthetically, I don’t know what to make of this titanic bastard of an airplane. The Wright brothers were faffing around as universally mocked numpties in 1903; I’d like to think this, however ugly, was what they had in mind.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.businessinsider.com/paul-allen-stratolauch-biggest-plane-2017-6?utm_source=msn.com&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=msn-slideshow&utm_campaign=bodyurl&r=US&IR=T

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Lost in Translation (2003) is garbage.

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Saw this in the cinema when I was 16 and thought it was incredible, my generation’s bit of peak Bertolucci or something. It’s been a long hiatus but I caught it again the other day. My god, it’s fucking appalling, an arty-farty piece of silly, trivial gibberish, and unbelievably racist. The characters are one-note, self-obsessed twats, and the picture depicts the Japanese as a mass of hysterical idiots. About 20 minutes in I couldn’t believe what I was watching. It’s concocted anthropology à la Nanook of the North (1922). Never again. Sad!

 

 

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Newhaven Quay, Edinburgh.

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Snapped from Brewers Fayre. There’s something of the Americana about this chain of venues, with the free soft drink refills and Hooters-esque staff uniforms. I was in Dunfermline’s version of one of these ‘restaurants’ a decade ago and found the experience most distressing; come to think of it, this might have actually been a Frankie & Benny’s. No matter, they’re all interchangeable: tacky décor, borderline violent eaters, screaming kids running amok.

Newhaven itself is a curious mix of the old and new; flats are *always* being developed, little ships will always have their presence, and eateries such as Brewers Fayre will continue to splatter the waterfront.

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Shell Garage, Dalry Road. Memories.

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This used to be the home of the infamous Shell garage, a post-3:00 a.m. drunken haven. There was nothing quite like their chicken stuffing sandwiches, especially when one was off one’s proverbial tits on a Smörgåsbord of £1 voddy and cokes from Rush Bar in the Cowgate. And how I miss the mangled chat with the bloke behind the glass. He clearly wanted to die but I still bombarded him with my life thoughts. 2005-2013 was a good fucking time in my life.

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Greenpeace protesters are protesting at Shell garages in Edinburgh as a result of Shell exploring in the Arctic 16 July 2012

Now it’s an empty space. Sad. The land that is; not my existence. These days I get free Wi-Fi at work. 24/7 Clockwork Winning.

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Boris does yoga.

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A very odd cat. That’s his exercise done for today.

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Modern living.

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Basking in the glory of an e-cig USB plug-in on the No. 16 bus.

Doing this grandiose act in Newhaven, I felt as if I had summited the bus experience, charging and vaping on the peasant wagon the apex of the commute.

#Rebelwithanecig.

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