Where I End and You Begin
(Final Post)
My dear friend, my collaborator, brother-in-faith, fell asleep in death on December 8th, 2009. The end of this blog was imminent, and now assured, with the passing of Brock H. Brown.
I will leave it up for a time so that anyone who wishes to peruse through Brock's insightful quips and diatribes may do so. I wish there was a way to banish all of my nonsensical posts, for more manageable Brock reading. When I'm ready I'll archive this blog as a memoir and close the chapter of this blog.
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The Story of Brock and Me
I cannot remember the exact day, the exact year even, of when I first met Brock. My best guess is '93 or '94. My friend Alex, who eventually became my brother-in-law, introduced me to him and his brothers. At the time Alex's sister, Rebekah, was sitting for them. They hailed from Salt Lake City, Utah. A friend of the Brown family, Grider Howton, who had known them from Salt Lake introduced Rebekah to the family when they inquired about a sitter. Grider knew Rebekah from being in the same congregation. The rest, is history.
Alex and I would go over to hang out with the boys, Brock, Chase, Parker, then eventually Hudson. We would just rough-house, watch TV, play games, and skateboard in the driveway/street. Once in a while we would pull out their parents' camcorder and make stop-action shorts, or other movie shorts, usually of the Kung Fu variety. Hopefully, a few of those will make their world debut.
In October of 1997, Rebekah and I got married and Brock was our ring bearer. He fulfilled his assignment admirably.
We naturally had an influence on Brock in regards to movies and music. However, just as you can teach someone to ride a bike, where they go is determined by their own ambition. Brock and I often rode on the same paths in regards to music and movies. We had great times taking road trips together to California to catch favorite bands such as Braid, The Casket Lottery, and Mew.
Matter of Chance is Born
We had a lot of fun making home movies. So much so, we talked often of doing more with it. After Brock graduated High School and contemplated secondary education, he figured "why not do something with filmmaking?" I decided to live through Brock, wishing I could've done something as cool and fun for secondary education. I told him we should get him ahead of the curve, start making films now, and he readily agreed. We kicked around a lot of ideas, and around this time it so happened that the Phoenix Film Project was putting together their first ever 48-hour film contest. This was June of 2004.
I suggested to Brock that we try our hand at this contest, which upon giving all the teams three guidelines on Friday evening, had to turn in a completed film on Sunday evening, 48 hours later. He was all in and we gathered Alex and his friend Kevin to assist us in shooting our "first film." To ensure we'd go through with this endeavor, I filled out the paper work and paid the fee. Stealing a line repeated three times in the opening of Magnolia, I named our group "Matter of Chance," and it stuck.
We had a lot of fun filming what became, "I'm Not Crazy." We even partially filmed a second option the same weekend with the working title of "Work Crazy." We didn't make the top 20. We knew that for a first effort it wouldn't be great, but we thought the other films must have been really great. They weren't. Sure, there were some good ones, but just seeing what films made the top 20 gave us motivation to rock a better film next time. Then came along Joshua J. Provost.
Josh helped take our films to the next level. At the same time Phoenix was starting to see the beginnings of the local film movement. With organizations such as The Phoenix Film Project, and The Almost Famous Film Festival, came many opportunities for filmmakers to compete in numerous contests. With that, we churned out film after film (http://www.matterofchance.com/films.html). Brock also started getting into his core classes, making some quality student films.
Many of our films won awards, but the most cherished result of them all was the camaraderie, and fun times we all had making them. They will provide fond memories for years to come. I hope to continue making some films. Starting back up may prove difficult, and I'm sure Josh would agree. Brock was our writer, and the reason why we continued to make films. Our new reason, will be to continue in his honor.
Reflection
Brock's passing only means the end of a chapter, but the beginning of a new one. A chapter, upon first thought would seem rather bleak, and probably not as engaging. Stick with it, though, and the payoff will be so worth it. In a satisfactory twist near the end, Brock rejoins the cast of characters in the thrilling climax. The book shortly ends, but it's only the end of one story in an ongoing, eternal series.
Know that if I were to unexpectedly die, where I end, you begin. Make it a good one.
Slowly fade to black.
(Originally written...2014? Finally published)
Yes, Teller and other scientists often had a number of things in common with the fictional weapons chieftain. Many scientists who gained influence in the 50’s and 60’s had fled Nazi rule in the 40’s. Although history never recorded it, many might have been divided up piecemeal with other countries once the Nazi regime had come to an end. These weapons specialists were quickly put to work in their field of specialty.
They massed power, whispered unknown words into the ears of leaders, and influenced the air of animosity that characterized the Cold War. And Kubrick asked why.
Jeremy once pointed out that Dr. Strangelove did not even show up until halfway through the movie, despite the fact that it was named after him. And yet, he is clearly the centerpiece of this darkly comical opus. Strangelove was a mockery of everything Teller and other influential scientists were. He was an unabashed jab that was masterfully carried out by Peter Sellers (and the seething edge of his sting is still felt to this day). Years went by, wars began and ended at the advice of people like Teller, and Strangelove remained the cruel joke of retaliation.
Every doomsday weapon must have a brilliant mind behind it, you see. And Strangelove was among the very first of such minds to be characterized in motion pictures. He’s the quintessential mad scientist who is tinkering with the fate of mankind to achieve his own ends. At the end of the film, when depression sinks in for the loss of humanity, Strangelove rejoices at the resurrection of his beloved fascism. His forced, yet restrained speech when he utters the word “slaughtered” is a glimpse into his psyche. And his rogue Nazi hand, one of the few things about Strangelove’s persona still pledging allegiance to that bygone evil, seems to have more control over him then even he has.
As such, Strangelove is a commentary on the very nature of weapons scientists and their influence. Strangelove seems to barely maintain an inkling of control over himself. Ironically, the President never stops taking him seriously.
The waroom where Strangelove dwelt
