Oh boy. Another one?
I already know that if any of my friends reads this they’ll probably demote me to “acquaintance… and that’s a stretch,” but I feel like I need to get this out of my system before I explode words on some cape-wearing, fake-wand-waving fanatic.
This movie looks bad.
There… I said it. It’s done. Granted, I’ll still probably end up seeing it. However, I won’t be amused. Harry Potter has become something far beyond what J. K. Rowling predicted— or ever wanted. I’m with everyone on the first few movies. Once the fourth one came out, though, I lost faith with Harry Potter on the silver screen.
See, the first and second movies were faithful to the books and didn’t try to be anything but Harry Potter. The third one was pretty good too. The fourth movie was a disappointment:
1. It was way too short. In fact, it was only a few minutes longer than the first one, and when you put the books next to each other, it becomes apparent that it should have been split into two films (like the seventh movie is). The very least they could’ve done is make it the length it needed to be and give us an intermission. Heck, most of us need to empty our bladders two hours into a movie anyway.
2. It introduced to the world Robert Pattinson, and we all know what he went on to do…
I rest my case.
The fifth movie was on par with the fourth one (is that a compliment?); it still left out quite a lot of material. Overall, not very memorable.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a fan. Just, a disappointed one. The director of the new film said it was the “sex, drugs, and rock’n'roll” Harry Potter film. Even Daniel Radcliffe showed remorse for that comment. Obviously, the books have changed a lot since The Sorcerer’s Stone was first published, but I’m convinced the quality stayed around the same.
This new installment seems set on creating what Harry Potter fan-fiction writers drool over and not what it is actually supposed to be portraying.
Despite all the fancy special effects the franchise has become well-known for, I’m still left amazed at how easily a book can be ruined. And, despite this rant, I’m still going to buy tickets and sit through the twenty minutes of previews it takes to see the Half-Blood Prince…
Something interesting caught my attention the other day as I was watching Attack of the Show. Generally this show features things I’m not capable of acquiring, achieving, or assembling (aka anything that costs more than twenty dollars). However, during this particular episode, there was a segment that gravitated around making money—not spending money! Joyous cries echoed throughout my cranium as I realized I could generate an income without taxes or bosses or the general stress of an hourly job. Yes, indeed, my head is hollow and acoustically modelled after the roman amphitheatres, which creates quite an amusing pastime when I’m bored. I digress…
So I was pointed in the direction of a site, ShutterStock, which allows you to upload photos and reap the benefits of 25¢-per-picture royalties. At first glance this seems like a rather tedious endeavor, especially since the minimum amount of money to be sent via check is $300. But if you delve into the logistics, you’ll find that if one really good picture gets downloaded 1000 times, that’s $250. And hey, maybe it’s not so good a picture and it only gets downloaded 50 times. With maybe ten of that quality pictures you’ve got $125. Easy money, right?
Well I was under the impression that it would be…
…and boy was I slapped in the metaphoric face!
After creating an account, clicking on confirmation emails (in order to confirm that I am, in fact, the same person who entered in the information 26 seconds ago), and scanning my ID, I was rejected admission in an ultimate and annoyingly polite fashion.
“The ID you uploaded for the ShutterStock Submission program was rejected because:
Unfortunately, you must be of legal age to create an account”
*Face-palm*
(funny side-note: there’s a website devoted to stories deserving a face-palm/pictures of people face-palming… and yes, I looked up face-palm to ensure it was actually a word…)
Anyways! When ShutterStock asked for an ID, I was under the impression it was to verify—yet again— that I was still Nicolas Valenzuela because it said something along the lines of “We need a valid ID to make sure plagiarism doesn’t occur, since plagiarism sucks and all,” to which I said in my head, “Thanks ShutterStock! You sure are a nice website, website, website….”
As the word “website” echoed through my cavernous skull (that would be a callback, thank you very much) I placed my practically new driver license in the scanner and uploaded it to the computadora. By the way, I’m kind of annoyed that it’s driver license and not driver’s license, but I guess it makes sense when you think about it. *Contemplates deleting previous sentence. Conscience says “You’re already in too deep”* <—[waste of time]
I get the email quoted above the next day. Frustration ensued. Defeat: bitterly accepted.
I just wish 17 was “of legal age.” I mean, I’m old enough to get arrested and tried as an adult but not old enough to register for a photo stock website? This is just one of the many things that a perfectly intelligent, mature seventeen-year-old cannot do, and I wrote this expansive blog entry to articulate my anger, since this is really the only thing I can do to lash out at “the man.”
Oh well. I can wait 247 days I suppose…
Turns out I’ve decided to not put up the novel or the play. Reason? Mostly because I haven’t gotten around to writing them. Partly because… well no, that’s basically it. Anyway, it’s summertime! Yes, and I’m finding out that I’ve done pretty much all there is to do around the house and I’m bored senseless. So much so that I’m finding it incredibly difficult to even write something cunning here… [insert clever anecdote/joke here]
NV
