Banzai!'s Blog Of Fantastic Terror!

prodigal

2006-07-18T22:36:00.000-04:00

Prodigal

Well, well, well. Someone out there does love me. I suppose that there have been many times when I thought that I had something to say on these pixels, but chickened out. You see, so much has changed for me that I wasn't sure that I could still pull this off - like it's such a challenge for the other millions of jerks, losers, and dorks doing it that I needed to live up to some expectation that only I was aware of - but the previous guest post, from the the most [and I mean this completely objectively - and abjectly] wonderful person that I have ever met, has inspired me. First, I must also welcome back littlemiss and tell her that she can use this space anytime she wants to, as she can use me in the same way. And thank her for jumpstarting me.

Let me address littlemiss' assertions:

I did get married. I did change jobs [more to come]. I do have a beautiful house that is new only to me, my wife, my little stepson, and our new puppy - and is the worse for 50 years wear in many frustrating infrastructural ways. I did appear [albeit in a cameo role] in DC's Pride Weekend gay pride parade, but I still insist to my wife that my most remarkable accomplishment was not the "I'm here, I'm queer" portion of that afternoon, but the feat of dashing off erudite and refined bon mots via text-message while on the run through the dense, drunken, debauched crowd. I have also exorcised television from my life [partially by attrition, partially by choice], and haven't picked up a vidogame controller since - well, jesus - I can't even remember when I last raced a hovercraft in WipeOut, watched Lara Croft's ass run through some haunted environ, or jacked a tweaked VW Golf in San Andreas. But I have to end as was suggested, by telling you all just how marvelous my wife is. She is everything to me [some of you may know her] and she is just absolutely perfect in every concievable way. She is the woman that I have always dreamed of, I knew it from the start. Would she request it of me, I would do my best to stay conscious while I tore my heart from my chest and handed it to her, gift-wrapped and scented with gardenia.

I will now feel free to drag her into these posts at will. She is not to be held accountable for the content, tone, context, or other vehement facets of this site nor any materials' veracity, originality or good taste. Unless she says she does. Which am sure that she will, she is a paragon of virtue and legality [her expired out-of-state license plates notwithstanding...]

I must also add my sincere condolences in the direction of Nowhere, Utah and the heartbroken Asia Carrera. I'm truly sorry for your loss. On a lesser scale, my best wishes on a smaller loss to Wil Wheaton. Hope that v2.0 is bulletproof.

2006-06-21T01:58:00.000-04:00

littlemiss takes over

Hey, Banzai, look what I managed to do! I figured out how to post on your blog. I think you don't realize how smart (& crafty) I actually am (albeit in a pedantic, donnish, only-person-to-beat-you-at-Trivial-Pursuit kind of way). Let this be a warning, give littlemiss enough caffeine and she could manage to take over the world, or maybe just your blog. Which ever she felt like.

I think we are all tired of reading the same outdated, depressing post (and I hope that I can use the term 'we'. Is there anyone else who even bothers to pass by here every once and a while to see if anything exciting has happened to you lately?). Really, Banzai, I think you could have found enough time in the last 8 months (!) to give us an update, your once loyal habitue' who indulged in the minutiae of your life. In case you have forgotten, allow me to adduce some rather significant events in your recent life, any of which would serve as excellent jumping off ground for a new post:

you got married
you changed jobs
you have a beautiful new house

Should none of those be to your liking, and a more oblique topic be needed in order to accommodate your witty repartee and sinuous ramblings, I would suggest musing at length about your recent appearance in a gay pride parade, your abandonment of all things television and video game related, or perhaps simply extolling the beauty and intellect of your wife (this last one is always appropriate).

Seriously, we miss you. Please come back.

~littlemiss

(This may even inspire me to resurrect my blog from the havoc inflicted by the sisterlittlemiss's guest post, blog-erasing debacle.)

2005-10-04T20:39:00.000-04:00

Quick Update

Hi, true belivers. Thanks for continuing to stop by through my long hiatuses. Let me give you a rundown.

Had a nervous breakdown [no shit]
Not worked since end of July due to extreme nervousness caused by even thinking of work.
Moved to a big city's immediate suburb which also happens to be the mutated remains of the town I grew up in with a wonderful woman who I am breathlessly in love with and her now 4 year old little boy.
Am now engaged to that wonderful woman with whom I am breathlessly, desperately in love with.
Am on Paxil to correct years of depression and anxiety [I guess I shouldn't get pregnant now]
Currently collecting disability pay.
Walked into another branch of the big book box and nearly fainted.
Desperately trying to regain some normalcy in my life and personality.

Love to you all.

plot

2005-04-19T21:19:00.000-04:00

Sometimes You Get What You Need

As evidenced by my long absence, and the guesses by the guests to my Tagboard* [correct by the way], you other poor bastards who continue to view this really-fucking-boring same old post [without scrolling to the bottom of the page to see the picture that used to be Castro and is now Saddam in a Jean Harlow blonde wig and mink stole (no, no, don't even bother, because when I post this, that particular post will roll away into the archive, never to be seen again) Eat your heart out Gwen Stefani!] What was I saying? Oh, yeah. I did get that PS2, just in time to really covet a PSP. But I digress. Grand Theft Auto held my attention for a while. I mean really-fucking-held it. Wow. I was obsessed. But pissed off. There is no single player rampage option on GTA: San Andreas! What do these bastards think I am, some loser who wants to share his PS2 time with another loser who wants to share his PS2 time? Nope, not me. I'm a loner, a rebel, just like CJ. Who's CJ? CJ is the name of the idiotic character that I have dressed to the nines in ghetto fabulousness, trying to bang some mechanic bitch who wants me to pack on some flab so she'll like me. Bullshit. I ain't changing for her. I'll go grab some flowers and take the divorced white cop out to the diner. She goes for me. She thinks I'm all that.

But I got bogged down once I got to the Vegas-y city. I'm bored with it. Sorry Rockstar, I guess it's not violent enough. Actually, it's probably the fact that I can chainsaw a FBI agent to pulp and see every bloody detail, but I can't watch the polygonic whores go down on me...er, I mean the character? What is that?

Sorry, sorry. Residual testosterone. Let's talk about real things, like religion. I got a call today at the big book box from some crazy lady asking when we were going to have mugs with photos of Pope Benedict XVI available. I am not kidding. She called a book store, no more than 3 hours after the new pope was elected, under super-secret conditions that you would have had to be James Bond or Batman to hack [even a Jedi couldn't have talked his way in there], to ask if we had mugs that were emblazoned with cheap pixelated imagery celebrating the 237th successor [some might say 265th, but I'm a purist] to St. Peter. That's right, Peter - the guy who walked around in jute-soled sandals with Jesus. The woman then scolded us for not having such icons. Just for the record, the guys who make the above pictured object will not have to alter their mold too far to get the new guy's infallible likeness.**

Why am I, an avowed arch-eupraxophist so concerned with the Holy See? The pomp, of course. A bit of the circumstance. And the gilded lilies. The fatted calf will of course be consumed in private. Is it true that the cardinals each get a small portion of the previous pontiff's brain to eat, so as to absorb his wisdom and strength? Did it taste of keilbasa? No and no? Damn. Then I guess Dan Brown's next novel is complete bunk-encrusted lies. For more commentary on the election of the pope see littlemiss's Tagboard [link to the left].

OK. I'm rambling here. I've been away far too long and my old Banzai persona is emerging. The one who tried to compete with Grandma & Grandpa Leperskin [that goes waaayyy back!] I have a new computer and I'm not afraid to use it! Well -- actually I am -- I thought having the free tech support would be great, but when every word I say to the "help" that isn't a technical word like "java" or "cookie" isn't understood due to the conflicting dialects of the Punjabi region, I get kinda wary even when attempting to load Myst 4. Which I still haven't figured out how to do yet. And it's not for me, honest. It's so my aged father won't just play Free Cell. Honest. But that's far from my mind tonight I get myself psyched for the time-honored passage of man to boy - standing in line for ROTS*** tickets! Yes, yes, I bought some online already, I'm not stupid, but this theater near me that doesn't even take credit cards yet will actually be selling opening day seats starting tomorrow. I can't wait.

Anyway. Love you all. It's good to be back. I'll try to do this more often. It's not that hard.

*Thanks to littlemiss and Sachka for keeping the faith.
**This witty aside was inspired by the all-too-briefly-appearing image of Pope On A Rope soap. That product was originally suggested by St. Guido of Sarducci on SNL a lifetime ago. The current image is just plain cool, and you should all realize that this is merely a giant squid, not the Cthulu-esque collossal squid.
***Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith

About Time

2004-12-11T17:20:00.000-05:00

Time & Being

So, it's been a while, eh? Yep, sure has been. I know that I have, for the past 2 years had a tradition of Thanksgiving posts of higher quality than the usual pablum that I spew. Well, this year was pretty damn sedate, with nothing of note to report. I had been stalling, hoping to have a spark of creativity, to turn my benign little holiday experience into the bizarre. But to no avail.

The holiday shopping season is upon us, and therefore my time is limited, especially since my dial-up connection and computer are conspiring to make my Internet life miserable. I live so far into the sticks that the only other option open to me is satellite connection, and I really can't make that kind of investment until spring. A computer on the other hand, might be do-able. Or vice versa, it's about the same. But what I really want is... That's bullshit. I'm not going to publish my wish list here. OK, really just a PS2. I want to play GTA: San Andreas and Metal Gear Solid 3: SnakeEater. That is all.

This is a quick post. I'll be more in-depth later. Maybe tomorrow. Our holiday hours mean that I'm not due in until 4pm. Whoopee.

Blog Therapy I

2004-11-22T01:05:00.000-05:00

Complete Systemic Crap

I feel awful. I have such a strange and wonderful mixture of symptoms that I can't even classify what this might be. Tightness in the throat and sinus congestion could [and will] be chalked up to allergies, but where do the jittery nerves and nervous tics come from? Stress, I suppose, but today was completely stress-free, unless you count neglecting a rather mundane phone call stress. Do you? Jesus, if you do, you're in worse shape than I. Frankly, I think I'm dying. I'm positive that I am suffering some vague modern malady like Gulf War Syndrome, or Seasonal Affective Disorder. Or some crap like that. Of course it will be impossible for me to keep a doctor's visit this week, so will I even try to make one? No, clearly not.

FUCK! Stop it will you! Sorry, I had to scream at the tic in my left lower eyelid to cease and desist. I feel like I've been popping ephedrine all day. I swear I haven't. I hate that shit. I imagine cocaine being like ephedrine on crack, and how awful that would be. Then I imagine crack like ephedrine on crack on crack. And I can't even realize that image in my mind. If I was ever to start using substances, I think I'd be a barbituate kinda guy. Not that I'm really aware of the clinical names of any. Here, I'll Google some. Ooo...Nembutal, Seconal, Phenobarbitol! OK, I just learned that barbituates are only one family in the greater spectrum of downers. Also included are the tranquilizers: Quaaludes, Halcion, Thorazine; and the Benzodiazepines: Valium, Xanax and Ativan. Filling out the family are the lighter touches of meprobanate [Miltown, Equanil] and sedating antihistamines [Vistaril, Atarax -- Benadryl?!]. See, I am so fucking naive. I should just have said heroin and had done with it.

Actually, I could really use a Benadryl right now. With a Sudafed chaser just to stay icy. Great, I am a fucking junkie. Anyway, I could really stand to relax right now. I just feel...wierd. Seriously. And with the time-honored surreal experience that is my family's Thanksgiving coming up, I don't need to feel more wierd.

Semi-Current Events

So, how 'bout those Indiana Pacers, huh? If I may, just a brief sports-related commentary... Spoiled babies. There. No, seriously, that was some repulsive videotape. I woke up Saturday to that, and it put my day in perspective. Humanity sucks. First you've got your hero-worship bullshit. Then you've got the "I'm a fan of the team, so I'm on the team." mentality, then the absolute gall to toss a beer at a player, then the sociopathic response from a multi-millionaire playing a child's game, then the got your back mentality of his teammates, etc. The worst thing however, was the complete lack of a security presence at the Palace at Auburn Hills. Where was the event staff, the ushers, the fucking spirit team?! This was awful. This kind of adreneline/testosterone fueled behavior is exactly why intelligent people have to enjoy American sports in the closet. So here's what the NBA needs to do. Cover 2-3 rows of seats immediately abutting the court with some taut, but not weight-bearing material thus eliminating a sturdy jumping-off point for incensed players. Stop alcohol sales at the end of the 3rd quarter or maybe halftime. Impose manditory minimum suspensions without pay for all players involved in physical altercations. If I was doling out suspensions here's what I would have given:

Ron Artest - Remainder of season or 84 games, whichever comes first. Plus indictment on assault charges.
Stephen Johnson - Ditto.
Jermaine O'Neal - 42 games plus indictment.
Anthony Johnson - nothing, the guy was really trying to break it up.

The rest of the supensions are for game misconduct, those are fine. Here's the rub, those players should not only be suspended without pay, but be prohibted from earning any monies in that time for basketball-related endorsements. That might be tough to do legally, but it's worth a shot. Frankly, if I see a single commercial featuring O'Neal during his suspension, that's a slap in the NBA's face. Are you listening post-Phil Knight Nike?

Here's what should happen to the fans involved. They should be charged with terrorism. No, sorry, that's the remnants of John Ashcroft possessing me momentarily. More on that later. They should be charged with assault, everyone from the pasty geek who Artest initially went after, to the guys who threw rabbit punches to Artest and Johnson, they weren't being attacked! But the idiots who went on the court and got what they deserved for doing so should be charged with trespass, assault, endangerment, stalking, whatever! Throw the book at 'em. Then ban them from NBA events permanently. Enough. Apparently there was a brawl after the S. Carolina/Clemson NCAA football game that Clemson's coach blames on the Pistons/Pacers incident. That's funny.

On the wholesale changes to the Bush43 Cabinet: While Ashcroft is certainly the most satisfying, Ex-Commerce Sect. Don Evans was really creepy in a 50's B-movie evil svengali kinda way, so it's good that he's outta there. Everytime I see Condaleezza Rice's name, I laugh at her parents.

On the death of Yasser Arafat: I guess he couldn't get a flu shot either. No, seriously [and I don't suppose that a million other blogs have made that joke before me], he was a flashpoint, nothing more. As a symbolic leader, he sucked. As a real leader, he sucked. Perhaps the Palestinians will have a less devisive [and more photogenic] personality in charge now. Perhaps a semi-independent Palestine will be realized on the West Bank. Perhaps all those trees that were planted in Israel in my name when I was a kid will now be Palestinian, and bear bitter, bitter fruit. Really, I'm torn over this. Being of Jewish stock, I empathize with the struggle to maintain a Jewish state, but being a person of conscience, I have a hard time with the tactics being used on the Palestinians. Their anger toward Israelis must be frightening, but must they be reviled as they are? Of course, I'm like 10,000 miles away and completely disconnected, so my opinion counts for bubkus. Shalom.

That's it for now. Enjoy, o' grand and wonderful 7 daily page visitors. I'm going to go tape down my left eyelid and try to get some sleep.

2004-11-09T18:41:00.000-05:00

Finally! A Movie!

YES! I have finally been able to see a film in a theater for the first time in 2 months! Sadly, not since Alien Vs. Predator have I experienced the thrill of the house lights dimming. Unless you count that time at Denny's when I passed out. Boy, I tell you what, did the house lights dim right then! Anyway, I went to see The Incredibles. Not only for the movie itself, which has been getting rave reviews, but for the Star Wars Episode III: The Revenge Of The Sith trailer in front of it. And here's my report.

If the movie had sucked, I would have sat in my seat for the entire-fucking-thing just because Lucasfilm attached the trailer to it. That's how cool the trailer was. It starts with the scene from A New Hope, which has Alec Guiness as Obi-Wan lying to Luke about his father's fate. Intercut with this are brief glimpses from epIII. Then, the real ass-kicking begins. The Emperor's voiceover begins it. "Lord Vader," he speaks.

Darth Vader's glistening newly-minted armor rises into frame. James Earl Jones' voice fills the theater as Vader responds. "Yes, my Master."

Vader's armor rises into view, giving us a complete head and torso shot. The wrists of his gauntlets are shackled to a table of the sort found only in Dr. Frankenstein's lab. More images from the new episode blink on. There is a mammoth ship being destroyed, blasts of lava, Yoda preparing to unsheath his lightsaber. In the shadow of a black cowl, Anakin's evil yellow eyes peer out, fully immersed in the Dark Side. The Emperor's voiceover concludes with one word. "Rise."

I was blown back in my seat. I didn't breathe. This was great trailer editing. The editor is a genius.

Did you know that there are 2 or 3 guys out in Hollywood who command million-dollar contracts merely to cobble together trailers? Yep.

Then I endured several trailers for other animated films. Robots looks good. Cars, not so much. Chicken Little, OK. Winnie-the-Pooh's Heffalump Adventure? Geez. There was a short before the film called Bounding. Some clever phrase work and a cheap laugh or two, nothing special.

10 years ago, Brad Bird left the Simpsons to develop some projects at major studios. The only one that got made was The Iron Giant. Which tanked because the studio didn't put any muscle behind it. It was a great movie. Full of ethical quandries and great cel and computer animation. It was 5 years before he got another chance. Pixar [a former Lucasfilm company] gave him a budget to make The Incredibles. And did he disappoint? Not one bit. What a great film! Very funny, very clever, very human and very superhuman. Great characters, great settings, great animation! Great story.

Great! Go see it. That is all.

Personal Pan Voting

2004-11-08T11:35:00.000-05:00

I Can't Believe It's Not Cheesecake!

OK, the title has nothing to with the topic[s]. So listen up. First of all, I spent a wonderful afternoon and evening yesterday accompanied by my good friends leaf mold, cat hair and drywall dust. This morning I woke up with a cement block for a head. There was also doggy poop, but I won't go into that.

Like the rest of America, I have been watching Desperate Housewives. TiVo'ed, of course. I haven't yet had a chance to discuss it around a water cooler, as the water cooler in the big book box is stuck in a corner, and very hard to stand around to discuss anything. But if there was a television show best designed to be talked about near a water cooler, it's this one. It is very funny. There, that's that, discussion over. More to the point, the set is what fascinates me. If I'm not revealing too much here, the show is shot on the same backlot street that one of my favorite movies was filmed on. The 'Burbs took place on the same pastoral cul-de-sac on the Universal backlot. Probably a million other things as well, but I think that the directors of the show are actually using the same shots that Joe Dante used when following the zany antics of Ray, Art, Rumsfeld and Corey Feldman. Speaking of Bruce Dern's character, he was a rabid Vietnam vet with a penchant for Soldier of Fortune and all things martial/camoflage. "Rumsfeld"? Sound familiar? Anyway, it's a good show.

There, my first reference today to the newly validated administration. Oh! I'd like to apologize to Michael Moore, who I accused of being silent in the face of abject failure. Since I wrote that post, I have received no less than a missive a day from Mr. Moore. One was a curious "Top 17" list of reasons not to slit your wrists, then the next one was a roll call of the US servicemen and women who have died in Iraq [I think that one was more to sell books than anything else]. Now, he's back on track with enthusiastic, "good job, people" type inspirationals. Here we go again...

But, speaking of election-type things, did anyone hear all the coverage of the "values voters"? Sure you did. May I say to those who vote their conscience, you selfish prigs, that you are the reason humanity is bogged down in this current stage of evolution! I'm not gonna Google it right now, so I don't know if there's a more profound source than Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, but Spock's valiant assertion that "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one." Should be posted above each polling place in America. The country needs your vote, not you, not your family, the nation! And I think that the burden of the national conscience is the one that I definitely carry. When I vote, I certainly vote in line with my beliefs, but I do so with the best interests of the nation in mind, not my wallet, not my safety. That's what local elections are for. The President really doesn't affect those issues. It's a smoke screen. The candidates would like you to think that they can, but they can't. Not in any kind of profound way. And don't start talking to me about the military response to 9/11 being part of my safety. Bullshit! My safety is what the Executive Branch can do to revamp intelligence and federal law-enforcement to bolster local police. Has the Bush administration taken any of the 9/11 Commissions recommendations to heart? Have they made any changes? Even the Dept. of Homeland Security [which still sounds odd, and faintly Nazi-ish] wasn't done correctly! And tax breaks didn't make me any more well-off, they just allowed me to pay down my debt by that famous $300.

Oh, one more politic-related question, and this comes 2nd hand, but I can't remember from where. If liberals are engaged in a vast conspiracy, why are they all so poor? Barbara Streisand can't finance that much of the country, can she?

Anyway, this post was a bit disjointed. I'm feeling out fo sorts because there was no episode of the Venture Bros. this Saturday night! Cartoon Network renew the Ventures NOW! Don't make me start an online petition. I'm e-mailing Adult Swim tomorrow, as this post has sucked away all the time I have today.

AAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!

2004-11-04T12:24:00.000-05:00

Where's The Nearest Blue State?

The reason that I wasn't blogging during and all day yesterday isn't that I'm content [and a big FUCK YOU to anyone who even thought that], it's not that I'm resigned [which I rapidly am becoming], it's not that I'm even tired. It's that I'm doing my part to "heal" the country.

Yeah. Like maggots are used to heal a wound, I'm trying to heal the country.

I turned the TV off once my moment of Zen had ended, and I switched back to ABC only to hear Peter Jennings exclaim, "And we'll be breaking away to your local stations for more election coverage". Then, my local news led with the newly elected Marion Barry interview. Yep, DC has seen to readmit the corrupt crackhead back into city politics as a city councilmember. But they did vote for Kerry 91% to 9% for Bush. So that's something, I guess. I gave CNN a try, but Jeff Greenfield was telling, "Anybody who tunes out in the next 30 minutes is really going to miss something!" Bullshit. Nothing happened for 12 hours!

Here are some actual quotes that I have overheard from our fine Virginia voters [55% red, 45% blue] over the last 24 hours since Kerry conceded:

"I would have voted for Kerry, except that he wasn't going to do anything against the gays."

"Bush is a complete dick, and lies like hell, but he's going to fight the terrorists more effectively."

"Mr. Bush is a fine man, and I'm glad that Jesus is still in the White House!"

He is? Damn, that's news!

Here's Michael Moore's response to the election. ... Nothing. Over the past 4 months, I have received dozens of missives and entreaties from Mike going on against Bush in one way or another, but now that we [he and I, of course] have lost, not a word. That seems to be the mood. Shocked silence. Sen. Charles Schumer on the Daily last night was resigned and conciliatory. He had no idea what was wrong with his party that not only couldn't they get their man elected, but lost 4 seats in the Senate including the long-incumbent Minority Leader! Ridiculous.

I woke up with other things on my mind. I did not run to the TV, I had to shower, shit and shave for work. The CEO was coming in after all. Boy did the Big Book Box look fantastic. The entire staff did so great in prepping. I've never seen the place more thoroughly presented. On the way to the store, I tried to listen to the radio, but the only thing our all-news station was saying was that some dickhead low-level Bushite had declared victory at like, 5 in the morning! Then there was something about a Metro accident and Marion Barry again. Who the fuck cares about Marion Barry!

So, I got the news that Kerry had conceded from a delivery driver at about 1pm. "At last." I believe I said. "At least the lawyers aren't going to be getting involved." As you can see, my rage is pretty subdued.

In the end, while I am disappointed in America for again buying the GOP fake issues above the real ones, I am actually relieved. It's over. Nearly 2 years and it's over. Now, we can go back to the business of ridicule and nervous laughter. I, for one, am wondering how much more material I can get from this guy and his cronies. I'm not exactly a comic genius, and any comic who keeps doing the same schtick for more than 4 years is only going to go the way of Jeff Foxworthy. Yeah, yeah, Bush is a fascist, Bush is a dictator, "President for life", Darth Cheney, Halliburton, etc. Pretty soon, it's not going to be funny. Actually, pretty soon is now. It's not funny. 4 more years is now, people. 4 more years. Sigh. Well, as one particularly well-prioritized emailer to my DC newsradio [WTOP] wrote "This proves that James Thrash illegal motion penalty was bogus!" That's a football joke. See, the Redskins... Aww, who cares.

Kerry's concession speech was heartbreaking. That big lug sure can get to a guy. Bush's victory speech was nearly presidential. Aside from the giant 'W's everywhere.

I'm disappointed that the Kerry daughters are going to be out of the limelight now, I'll miss their long, patrician legs and tales of reanimated hamsters. Here's to the 2 of them becoming media darlings! I won't miss Teresa though. Never really liked her. Here's to John Edwards, that adorable Southern albatross. Get back into Congress, fool! Why couldn't you have ran concurrent campaigns like Lieberman did, huh?

Well, my thanks to Ohio for making it a tight race. Many props to little miss and friends for their contributions in getting out the buccaneer vote. To those true believers who campaigned/voted for Nader [note the correct spelling, Cap'n] good for you, but bad for the country. Imagine if your work had gone into a cause that would have done some good. Like the Libertarians.

I'll leave it at this for now, and just remember, CLINTON/CLINTON in 2008! Yeah.

2 down

2004-11-01T12:19:00.000-05:00

It's In the Bag! No, Wait, That's a Snickers Bar.

OK. First, the Red Sox won. Fantastic! Congratulations to the generations of Bostonians and their descendents across the globe who have suffered and died with the BoSox only to miserably realize that "There's always next year." is the mantra of the damned.

Second, the Redskins lost. Big surprise. Joe "Christ on a Raquetball Court" Gibbs has got 'em going in the [mostly] right direction, but they need to bolster some offensive talent before they go to the playoffs. Mark Brunell is one washed-up QB.

So, that means that we're 2/3 of the way to a statistical Kerry victory. Only 36 hours from now we will have the results of the pre-recount election. I heard last night of some old biddy here in my town that has a 100% track record in predicting presidential elections. Apparently, she sells candy. And has accurately out-predicted the pollsters by measuring the quantity of the bubble-gum cigars she sells with each candidate's name appearing on the band. Great. Is that like predicting the weather with bear fat or what? I'm not even going to look up the veracity of this claim, not even the results, because like everything else in this burg, it would only be disappointing.

Anyway, this election is a toss-up. Every vote counts and all that. My Tuesday was going to be solely dedicated to voting and visiting voodoo priestesses to hex Bush43. Those plans are now on hold for the next election, as I must go into the big book box to prep for a majesterial visit from none other than our illustrious CEO. I suppose it is an honor, but c'mon! An honor that we have to put in overtime to enjoy isn't really an honor, is it? And in the state of flux that our store is in right now, this is going to be a loooong couple of days wait. All that, and my cold is still hanging on.

I hope that all of you had happy and delicious Hallowe'ens. That you both tricked and treated, and that you were aware, even briefly of all the poor Pagans that had to die way back during the Roman conquest of Britannia for you to dress up like idiots and drink. Thank you.

Cough, Sneeze, Wheeze

2004-10-30T13:07:00.000-04:00

The Nasal Discharge Post

I think to write today. The mucus has taken over the higher brain fucntions. Yep, I'm sick for the first time in seriously, a year and a half. Bleah. If you're expecting any more from this post, get over your illusions immediately.

Enjoy your Hallowe'ens [or for you more serious folks, Samhains and All Saint's Days] and your hangovers. Don't get too blitzed to vote for Kerry on Tuesday.

I'll be back in this space as soon as the zinc kicks in.

Squeaky Wheel

2004-10-26T17:57:00.000-04:00

Triumph of the Spiteful

Nearly 3 years ago I signed up for Netflix. Back before the IPO, back before casual DVD renters had found them, back before they could afford to advertise anywhere but "aintitcoolnews.com". And while I'm not really what you could call an early adopter, I do like novelty. And paired with the sloth factor involved, Netflix sounded like quite a banzai-rific service.

Well, aside from a few flawed recommendations that I've actually tried out [unlike TiVo recommendations which are 100% wrong] and a brief battle over which of my credit cards actually could be billed, I've been perfectly happy with Netflix. That was, until this past May when I reveived an email that insulted my intelligence, took my patronage for granted, and basically pissed me the fuck off. It said something to the effect of

"We have poured loads and loads of money into the organization, and since we don't want to touch our IPO profits, we're going to raise your rates significantly [10%] and send you this ridiculous excuse that we think you're going to believe."

Fuck that! I almost immediately [as soon as I could find the goddamn link] tore off a scathing response that went kinda like this,

"Fuck you trying to get one over on me! I know where your vaunted re-investment is going! To the fucking commercials that I see every 2 minutes on cable! Were I so lucky as to have an competitor of yours to jump ship to, I would beat the fucking rats off this tub! As it stands, I value your service and if I have no choice in the matter, than I will go get some cooking grease and lather up my rectum for the reaming that you're about to give me. Thank you, Netflix, for continuing the American traditions of corporate greed and lying to your loyal customers. We much appreciate it, as we were beginning to think of you as too good to be true. And we certainly couldn't have our cynicism tainted with that sentiment, could we?"

Days, weeks, months passed. I continued my grudging, and now-tenuous relationship with Netflix, waiting for the day when the price gouging would begin. But then, a beacon on the horizon winked on. On Sunday, I received this message. [The following is a real quote, unlike the above]

Dear [banzai],

Over the last five years, we've grown the Netflix community to over 2.2 million satisfied members. We appreciate your business, and our goal has always been to provide you great service.

Since our price increase in June, some of our members have expressed concerns about the new pricing. We've listened to this feedback and are pleased to inform you that we're lowering the price of your Netflix 3-at-a-time program from $21.99 per month to 17.99 per month.

You don't need to do anything. Your membership will automatically move to the lower 17.99 price. The lower price will appear on your next bill on or after November 1, 2004. You will still get the same great service and convenience, but now you will pay less for it. So please sit back, relax and enjoy your movies!

-Your Friends at Netflix

Holy Shit! That's less than I was paying originally! And they're so, so contrite! My diatribe was NOT the only voice in the wilderness after all! I feel so vindicated and, and valid! I feel joy and wonder at this thing called complaining. I feel, I feel... Goddamn it, now I feel ashamed of some of the things I wrote. I was a bit harsh. When indignation would have been enough, I believe that I actually resorted to insults. I think the word 'leech' was used. But unfortunately, I can not locate the text of that email. For fairness sake, I certainly would have posted it. I am not so weak as to not admit when I am wrong.

Chalk one up for the little guys! This can only be a good omen for the election, right?

Out of Sync

2004-10-25T13:18:00.000-04:00

Loveable Losers

Yesterday, I was discussing statistics peripherally connected to Presidential elections with Jenn and Jason. Well, only marginally with Jenn, because the statistics were, for the most part [Oh, who am I kidding, entirely, entirely!] sports related and Jenn has way too much important stuff in her head, such as laser measurement of sub-atomic particles, to be concerned with sports crap. I applaud that. I do. On the other hand, Jason pulled out a doozy. If the Washington Redskins win the weekend before a Presidential election, the incumbent has been elected 100% of the time, going back to the team's inception as the Boston Braves.

Great. Now I have to root for my team to lose. Not that I'll be watching anyway. Even with a rejuvenated interest, and a stalwart, messsianic coach [Heresy, Joe! Heresy!] at the helm, I'm still doing other things with my Sundays. I'm proud of me.

Anyway, back to the original point. I recounted a stat I had heard that stated that during Democratic administrations the Redskins overall record was under-.500, and no championships were won. Too bad for them, as not only will my 'Skins lose this week to the Packers, but will continue to be mediocre for the next 4 years.

On the other hand, I said to Jason, if the Red Sox win the World Series, no statistical comparisons could possibly apply. The world of coinciding numbers will have entered a new epoch. The Post-Curse Era.

Anyway, to sum up: GO SOX!! GO PACK!! SORRY, JOE!

Fight the power.

*Essential Media updated. Yeah, I know it's not the weekend anymore! Fuck off!

Icons

2004-10-23T11:39:00.000-04:00

Icons

Whaddaya Know

Einstein was right! A couple of Italian dudes, working with NASA, have used evidentiary data from 2 satellites to prove a portion of Albert Einstein's Theory of Relativity. The effect, newly christened "frame-dragging" [most likely in a shrewd marketing move by Microsoft to infiltrate physics. Coming soon, Windows for Mars Rovers!] and describing the gravity of a planetary body as it rotates distorting space-time. Way to go, Al! You da man!

Cap'n Bill

Yes, Shatner is finally getting to live out his Kirk fantasies. And it's only costing him $210,000. Yeah, he's been recruited by "Renegade Billionaire" Richard Branson as one of the first passengers aboard his new Virgin Spacelines [or whatever], formerly known as SpaceShipOne. Branson himself has pledged $100,000,000 to the X-Prize winners to expand their program. And has paid $20 million to license the name and design for marketing spin-offs. Well, if you want the commercialization of space, you're getting it. It's all for the best, just keep repeating that to yourself. Until McDonalds gets involved, then start lobbying your congressman.

Son of Krypton

So, some guy named Brandon Routh has been cast as Superman. Bryany Singer, who has defected [traitor] from the X-Movies [well, who knows when the next one was going to happen, the cast is all too busy making bad movies] to helm this floundering Warner Bros. project that has been in the works since 1989. That is not a good sign, people. So this 6' 2" actor has some top notch cred, man. Yeah, let's take a look. Umm... Wait, is this the right file? One Life to Live and Gilmore Girls?! Those are his credits? Touchy feely melodramatic crap?! Great. Well, it's not like he can make Superman an interesting character. Supes is too perfect, too super. He's boring. We'll see if the story, effects and other casting make this a worthwhile ticket in 2006.

Son Of The Revolution

Uncle Fidel took a header off a dais a few days ago, broke his knee and arm. That was some funny fucking videotape. Not as funny as Bob Dole's spill off the platform in 1996, or Bush41 puking in that Japanese guy's lap, but pretty fucking funny. But he was never out of commission, folks! No, not Comrade Fidel. He refused general anesthesia and was still large and in charge. Seriously, what's going to happen when he kicks? He's 78. There's an invasion for the next generation of Bushes, I suppose.

Match Point: Or, Not So Iconic, More Like Fluff

So, the end has come for the 2nd most visible all-tennis couple ever*. Kim Clijsters and Lleyton Hewitt have split, messily. Well, would you really have expected 2 people with such stupid names to stay together? Too many 'L's [and they're not even Welsh!]. Their PR folks must have been going crazy. Spellcheck doesn't really help with names, y'know. They were never going to be as happy as Graf and Agassi, anyway. That commercial with their kid beating the hell out of the tennis pro is pretty funny.

*This should really be the 3rd most visible all-tennis couple. Jimmy Connors and Chrissy Evert dated for a while, didn't they? That was a much bigger deal.

CSI: The Addiction

2004-10-22T23:45:00.000-04:00

All Gone...

I've done it. I've watched all 5 (6?) seasons of CSI in 1 month. Thank you Spike TV! Whoo-hoo! Since it's the only decent thing that channel has, they play the shit out of it, and now, it's all mine! I can recognize episodes by their plots, titles and synopses. Those of you who can recite poetry or great literary quotations, be gone with ye! Those of you who engage in adventures to broaden your experience be damned! I know my TV. However, as with all great discoveries, there is a down side. My thirst for CSI is unquenched. I must try to slake the thirst that is only increased by the bitter salt water of CSI: Miami with the promising, but not as funny [in a bad way] CSI: NY. I love CSI so much that I bought The Who's Greatest Hits so that I could listen to the theme songs so graciously licensed by Pete Townshend. Who Are You?, Won't Get Fooled Again & Baba O' Reilly, these are all great songs, but once remixed and set to punctuate a dramatic teaser or a really poor pun, they are miracles, small miracles. Ahh. I love CSI so much that I bought Manhunter starring William Petersen, again! There is a DVD that has a director's cut that I hadn't seen before. Since Petersen [our Grissom] is better, and 25 pounds lighter, in the superior crime drama directed by Michael Mann, I couldn't resist.

You know what? All the CSI rip-offs out there, from Cold Case, to Crossing Delancey, to the blatant NCIS for chrissakes, are all pale shadows of the original the mouthwatering, the pop science and pseudo-detective work of the men and women of the LVPD Criminalistics Dept.

Don't get me wrong, I critique the show. Just why do the CSIs do all the investigating? What do the cops do? How can Marg Helgenberg look better now than she did on China Beach 15 years ago? Do the producers really think that Jorja Fox is a attractive character? Why did George Eads shave his head? There are some mysteries for the team to tackle. But I nitpick, I really do. CSI, thy name is nectar on my tongue. Mmmm...

Election Erection

Do you hear that? That is the sound of -- inevitability. Ah, yes, my famous Agent Smith impression.

Less than 2 weeks from now, this country will either be able to begin recovery from this long national nightmare, or we Americans of conscience either flee the country or become raging alcoholics. Actually, a new fear has risen my gorge. What if, his lame duck status cemented, Bush43 [and won't it feel good to never type that name again? You betcha.] "cowboys up" and invades Iran for good measure. Or nukes someone? Have you ever seen the demoralizing effect of a hydrogen weapon on a populace? I'm telling you, those insurgents would curl up and go away toot suite.

Bush43, in a speech on Tuesday, told the duly signed and notorized assembled throng, that a vote for him was a vote for hope. Have you ever heard such laminated horseshit in all your born days?! Jesus, it made me want to take a chainsaw to my own neck! That is until Jon Stewart showed me that it was OK to laugh. Well, that and the Yankees choking worse than 10 years of Washington Capitals teams combined! Goddamn I love Jon Stewart! And not in any kind of pansy-ass, cutesy, "hearts and flowers" way either. I love Jon in a prison love kinda way! Love Oz-Style! Salad-tossing love.

Well, it's off to e-mail littlemiss to see if she's been able to find video of Jon's appearance on Crossfire to download and illegally copy for me, then send through the US Mail, constituting a Federal offense. Or e-mail it to me, I suppose, if she wants to do things the pansy-ass way.

Thank you and good night!

*New Essential Media this weekend.

THX1138

2004-09-19T11:09:00.000-04:00

The Storm Before The Calm

Man, it it be-you-tee-full here today. And I have a serious moral quandry to consider. Do I stay home and watch the Inappropriately Named NFL Franchise [which I love] play their silly game [which I love], or do I go on a drive into the country with my dog? Letting her ears, jowls and tongue flap in the crisp [now offically] autumn air, or sit at home with a plate of ooey, gooey nachos and cold beer cheering for a rejuvenated team? I don't know. I suppose that the game may be on the radio, and I could listen and enjoy the sun, but dammit! Football was made for TV, and do I want to spend the money on gas when I have such important purchases to make on Tuesday? See, a quandry if ever there was one.

Surreal Life

I got a call on my cell last night from my mother, who, over unintelligble noise in the background, and in her usual drawn-out manner, told me what time and date it was, then said "hold on". There were the usual shuffling sounds of the phone being handed over to another person. A voice then screamed "YOU'RE WILD!" Like Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing [I'm presuming this was my sister, who only quotes 2 movies, Dirty Dancing and The 'Burbs, and who was quite probably hopped up on goofballs]. Then the phone was handed back to my mom, who very calmly said, "I've got brownies for you! Call me!"

Have my mother and my sister become Saturday night drinking buddies? Are they on a Thelma & Louise-esque escapade across the commonwealth? What in the name of all that is holy are they doing together and calling me to get their kicks? I am slightly frightened.

Conspiracy

2004-09-18T21:23:00.000-04:00

Bother & Blather

At the big book box today, a customer came in and immediately struck up a conversation with me regarding the pittance of 6 copies of Unfit For Command that I had rebelliously put out for sale instead of calling another pain in the ass 6 customers who wouldn't be home and wouldn't come in and pick up their book. As you will all know, I hate this book. However, I work at a retailer where sales are everything. I need good sales to drive employee staffing, which drives morale, which drives customer service, which drives sales. Which maybe, just maybe would result in our base wage going up next year. Which would hopefully mean "cost-of-living" raises for a bunch of deserving employees. But I digress.

This customer opened the conversation nicely, "I see you finally have some copies of Unfit For Command on the shelves."

Just a very few sir, the vast majority are still being held for customers who reserved copies.

"So it's not true that the [big book box] Employee Union has been influencing you to hide and destroy copies of the book?"

There is no [big book box] Employee Union, sir. There are a few [big book boxes]who have chosen union representation, but it is not a company-wide movement.

"Oh. But on CNN, I saw an article that said on the big book box union website that there were strategies being distributed to sabotage that title."

I haven't heard that particular rumor, sir. But I can assure you that we are a retailer, we're here to make money. Destroying our product, or hiding it until it's no longer in demand costs us money. I'm sorry, what media outlet did you hear that on?

"It was on CNN. Did you see the interview that Wolf Blitzer had with the CEOs of [big book box]and [big book nook] where he got them both to admit that their companies were conspiring to keep this book out of the public's hands until after the election?"

No, I didn't.

And neither did he. This guy was so full of shit that I could smell it.

I have done some digging [well, Googling] and found that there were indeed postings under a string on [bigbookbox]union.com that encouraged censorship by sabotage. The site intelligently removed that string and placed a statement in its place. I'll summarize: "The posts were bogus, we don't advocate this behavior or censorship of any kind, and were this happening we would support the low-paid managers in disciplining the low-paid booksellers for destruction of company property." Hasty Next Day Addendum: For completeness' sake, I found no trace anywhere on the net of any Blitzer-Josefowicz interview. Not even on CNN's programming guide for the last week. Again, more bullshit from a an apparently imaginary conspiracy theorist. Sir, you give us all a bad name. Stick to the facts, then twist. That's the way of good paranoia.

Can I possibly express the disdain I have for anyone who is this wrapped up in one book? Can I possibly express the frustration that I am feeling regarding issue after issue that is foisted upon me as a book store manager, as if somehow I am involved in this fiasco personally! Look, I just sell 'em, folks. Call the goddamn customer care line if you wanna make a point! Hey! That's not a bad idea. Maybe I'll call customer care to get some helpful hints in defusing [diffusing?] these situations. Hmm...

Holy Shit. Something just occured to me. What if this was a subterfuge? What if this was a bullshit Free-Lance Star reporter digging for info?! Goddamnit! He sure had a lot of questions! And he didn't get upset like most of the zealots usually do! Oh, FUCK, if that's the case, I'm going to become physically violent. I'm not kidding. I'll not be lettin' the local rag off easy on that kind of chicanery. Small-town newspaper, avast! Ye' be facin' the fury of Cap'n Banzai now. ARRR.

Naw. It wasn't really a ruse. The guy was a legit right-wing nut. Y'know how I know? Here's a bit more of the exchange:

"But I don't blame you guys."

Well, sir, I don't think that there's any blame to be placed here, but thank you.

I blame Jimmy Carter.

What?!

"Yeah, Jimmy Carter. Didn't you know that Carter changed the tax structure to tax books that publishers warehoused. That's why books go out of print so quickly now."

O-K. Thanks for the information. Have a nice day. Loser.

Tommy, Markey, Richie and C.J. Better Watch It

Johnny Ramone died on Thursday. Do they have a memorial wall at CBGB's? There is a bunch of Ramones tribute stuff coming out this fall. Good. They deserve it. I don't have much more on this other than to say, 3 Ramones are dead, but Tony Orlando and Dawn are still kicking.

New Clash

2004-09-09T00:05:00.000-04:00

Legacy

On September 21st I will not be working. But I will be at work. I will be there for one reason. To re-live 1983. That was the year that Return Of The Jedi was released, in May. That meant the culmination of the [still] most influential media work in my lifetime, the holy trilogy. It was also the year that contained the Febuary when I remember hearing the Clash for the first time. Realizing that it was [still] the second most influential media work in my life took a decade more.

In October of 1982 my lab partner in 7th grade biology would become my best friend over a reeking dissected frog. He was a radiohead. He introduced me to The Clash. I had heard "Rock The Casbah" on the radio myself, but I didn't get it at the time. "Should I Stay Or Should I Go" was the tune that caught my ear, and then London Calling came into my perspective. I have been listening to that album for 20 years. On it's 25th anniversary, a new edition of London Calling will be issued. It will contain 3 discs: The original 19-track album,

London Calling - 3:20
Brand New Cadillac - 2:08
Jimmy Jazz - 3:54
Hateful - 2:44
Rudie Can't Fail - 3:29
Spanish Bombs - 3:18
The Right Profile - 3:54
Lost in the Supermarket - 3:47
Clampdown - 3:49
The Guns of Brixton - 3:09
Wrong 'Em Boyo - 3:10
Death or Glory - 3:55
Koka Kola - 1:47
The Card Cheat - 3:49
Lover's Rock - 4:03
Four Horsemen - 2:55
I'm Not Down - 3:06
Revolution Rock - 5:33
Train in Vain (Stand by Me) - 3:09

a disc called The Vanilla Tapes with 21 additional demos, featuring 5 previously unheard tunes,

Hateful
Rudie Can't Fail
Paul's Tune
I'm Not Down
4 Horsemen
Koka Kola, Advertising & Cocaine
Death or Glory
Lover's Rock
Lonesome Me
The Police Walked in 4 Jazz
Lost in the Supermarket
Up-toon
Walking the Slidewalk
Where You Gonna Go (Soweto)
The Man in Me
Remote Control
Working and Waiting
Heart and Mind
Brand New Cadillac
London Calling
Revolution Rock

and a DVD with a NEW! 45-minute documentary by Don Letts called The Last Testament.

This edition has been compiled by Mick Jones and Paul Simonon. The film has interviews with Jones, Simonon, Topper Headon and the late, great Joe Strummer. I will be buying this 3-disc edition. It is called the "Legacy" Edition, but it's not the legacy of the band, it's my own.

The Star Wars Trilogy will also be released that day, duh. I will be buying it at the big book box, because we don't only sell books and I know there will be one waiting, then I can go home and watch it in a sitting. Lucas is making more changes to these editions. Greedo will no longer shoot first, Jabba the Hutt appears in Empire, and Boba Fett may not necessarily die at the end of Jedi. At the big book box we are also offering a special, 25% off any other DVD box set when purchased with Star Wars [This is not a commercial, I don't do that!]. That means that a +$100 set that I've been coveting will be mine.

This is also the day that Count Olaf has been waiting for. The Grim Grotto, the 12th in A Series Of Unfortunate Events will be released.

Let's see, that's approximately $50 for Star Wars + $8 for The Grim Grotto + $80 for the as-yet-unamed box set [Probably HBO's Band Of Brothers it's expensive!]+ about $20 for London Calling = @$160, with tax. That's pricey. Maybe I'll wait on the book.

Everyone Blogs on Sunday

2004-09-05T20:26:00.000-04:00

Everyone Blogs on Sunday

I have been trying to publish changes for the past 7 hours. And just now, it finally worked. It still took 12 minutes to republish my entire blog, but it worked. Wow. But this happened only after I emailed Blogger help about it, and another stupid question that I figured out on my own. So, should I email and say "forget about it", while Blogger puts forth that sort of relaxed attitude, would the actual IT guys appreciate it? Seeing as how they are most likely more caffinated and frustrated than I am on a regular basis, I would say no. So here's my blanket apology. Sorry, people. Won't happen again.

TiVo Revelations

Having a TiVo has brought about interestingly arcane viewing habits in me. I wouldn't necessarily have discovered The Cartoon Network's The Venture Bros. for many months, and by the time I started watching, I wouldn't get the jokes. Much as I haven't ever really enjoyed Aqua Teen Hunger Force, due to the lateness of my arrival on their scene. This sense of distain is quite a defense mechanism, designed in my subconscious to keep me from seeming "uncool" or "square" for not having been on the bleeding edge of television.

But let me expound on the force that is Los Bros. Venture! This is a cartoon, that while mocking Jonny Quest, also pays it the highest compliment possible. Trying to be as cool as it. The creators, who I can't recall right now [Eric Hammer and Chris McCulloch], got help from one of the all-time greats in obscure cartoons/comics, Ben Edlund, who invented The Tick and supervised his metamorphosis into, first cartoon, then live action adventure/comedy. The characters are fantastic, the humor is appropriately scatological, situationally ribald, and frequently violent. Brock Sampson is the man who would result if James Bond and The Punisher had babies.

New Essential Media!!

Distinctly left-leaning and avant-garde this week [wishful thinking on all counts]. My favorite find was the collection of Christopher Walken appearances on SNL. YES!
Oh, my revamped comments apparently won't let me comment myself. It's a work in progress, people!

Frances

Rain! Wind! Thunder! Lightning! Christ on a crutch, idiots, you'd think that this didn't happen every friggin' August/September. Let's hope that my front yard doesn't wash away in all the rain we're expecting later in the week.

A Refutation

2004-09-04T23:16:00.000-04:00

A Refutation of J. M. Tyree's On The Implausibility Of The Death Star's Trash Compactor

In the collection, Created In Darkness By Troubled Americans: The Best of McSweeney's Humor Category (Eggers, Shay, Epstein, Warner & Kleid, ed.) , J. M. Tyree writes a wonderfully funny, albeit misguided dissection of one of the seminal moments in American film. The agonizing [and rather pungent] scene in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope in which the newly rescued Leia and her erstwhile rescuers, Luke, Han and Chewie are trapped in a trash compactor of ridiculous size. This was a nod to not only the serial adventures of which Star Wars creator George Lucas was fond of, but to a current (in 1975) fad in kitchen appliances that died out in the nineteen-eighties. This antechamber is inhabited by a dianoga [the slimy creature who attacks Luke] and hunks of metal slag, insulation not unlike our styrofoam, and foetid water. I have reprinted this essay below, my rebuttals to Tyree's arguments are in bold. While I realize that my republishing of this work exceeds any fair-usage agreement, it is hoped that the additions that I have made are substantial enough to render this a new satirical work, not improving upon but merely appending the original. Enjoy...

I maintain that the trash compactor on board the Death Star in Star Wars is implausible, unworkable, and moreover, inefficient.

The Trash Compactor Debate turns on whether the Death Star ejects its trash into space. I, For one, believe it does. Though we never see the Death Star ejecting its trash, we do see another ship [a] so-called Star Destroyer [the Executor, Darth Vader's personal transport], ejecting its trash into space. I therefore see no reason to suspect that Empire protocol dictating trash be ejected into space would not equally apply to all [Imperial] spacecraft, including the Death Star. [The writer would do well to dismiss his assumption that the many thousands of different models of spacecraft designed by many thousands of engineers from many thousands of distinct societies would all resemble one another. While the Empire most likely specifies certain basic design parameters, to mandate this system or that system would stifle innovation and progress.]

The Death Star clearly has a garbage-disposal problem. Given its size and massive personnel, the amount of waste it generates--discarded food, broken equipment, excrement, and the like--boggles the imagination. That said, I just cannot fathom how an organization as ruthless and efficiently run as the Empire would have signed off on such a dangerous, unsanitary, and shoddy garbage disposal system as the one depicted in the movie. [The writer has only witnessed only the ruthlessness and efficiency of the Imperial Navy. The Empire itself, as with any vast governmental body, most likely has its share of corruption, graft and sheer ineptitude. And with the Empire's decidely malicious political stance, their share of these is probably more than fair.]

Here are the problems, as I can ascertain them, with the Death Star's garbage-disposal system:

1. Ignoring the question of how Princess Leia could possibly know where the trash compactor is, or that the vent she blasts open leads to a good hiding place for the rescue crew [As with any prisoner intent on escape, the Princess has merely observed her environment, looking for any advantage. She has also probably established ties with detention block procurement agents and the nearest detainee making schnapps in their toilet.] , why are there vents leading down there at all? [Plumbing systems always require a vent to remove potentially explosive gases. Venting these to the detention levels purposefully would make any detainees all the more uncomfortable.] Would not vents leading into any garbage-disposal system allow the fetid [sic] smell of rotting garbage, spores, molds, etc., to seep up into the rest of the Death Star? [These vents were most likely only opened when it served to torture prisoners, in the melee preceeding the escape down the chute, they could have been forgotten, and it is also reasonable that, in such a complex machine as the Death Star, some wiring connection was missed that would have closed these vents in the event of an alarm.] Would it not have been more prudent for the designers of the Death Star to opt for a closed system, like a septic tank? [Perhaps the architects used a combination of many systems. The station is so large that it may have even been designed to employ differing "eco"-systems. Also see addendum to argument 2.]

2. Why do both walls of the trash compactor move toward each other, rather than employing a one-moveable-wall system that would thus rely on the anchored stability, to say nothing of the strength, of the other, nonmoving wall, to crush trash more effectively? [This is again a question of engineering. The most elegant design is not always chosen. Less perfect designs are sometimes installed to further research into included technologies. For instance, this "ineffective" design may have spawned 3 new patents in hyraulics, or in the case of the dianoga, bio-engineering.]

3. Why does the trash compactor compact trash so slowly, and with such difficulty, once the resistance of a thin metal rod is introduced? Surely Death Star pieces are among the main items of trash in need of compacting. It thus stands to reason that the trash compactor should have been better designed to handle the problem of a skinny piece of metal. (And while I hate to be the person who says I told you so, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that a
one-moveable-wall system would have improved performance.) [To what resistance is the writer referring? In the film, the compactor is clearly not hindered by the ersatz bracing that is attempted.]

4. Why does the trash compactor only compact trash sideways? Once ejected into space, wouldn't the the flattened, living room-sized, and extremely solid panes of trash that result from such a primitive, unidirectional trash compactor pose serious hazards for Empire starships in the vicinity? [Again the writer is assuming based on the evidence. Who is to say that had R2D2 (by way of C3PO) not intervened the ceiling and floor would not have dorsally crushed the previously laterally flattened mass?]

5. And what of the creature that lives in the trash compactor? Presumably, the creature survives because the moving walls do not extend all the way to the floor of the room, where the liquid is. [An assumption, yet again. Luke is released from the dianoga's grip when the creature hears a relay trip with a distinct hollow bang. This could possibly be the noise of a hatch opening to allow the dianoga to escape harm. If this is so, what a remarkable synthesis of technology and biology at use.] After all, if the walls reached the floor, the creature would be killed each time trash is compacted. The design employed on the Death Star must allow the organic trash to filter down to the bottom, where the parasitic worm-creature devours it. [See notes on argument 6.] But what happens when heavier pieces of nonorganic trash fall down there? Would not such trash get wedged under the doors, causing them to malfunction? [Ridiculous. This statement desperately hinges on the writer's above assumption. The walls would have some interlocking angled feature at the bottom and sides to keep debris from the joint and to maneuver it into the path of force.] Do stormtroopers have to confront the creature each time they retrieve pieces of uncompacted trash? [Again, ridiculous, but allowable for poetic license. Stormtroopers are shock troops, not technicians or mechanics.]

6. Why not have separate systems for organic and inorganic waste, thus allowing full compaction of the inorganics and a closed sanitary system for the organics? [Could it be possible that the dianoga was introduced into this system, not to dispose of organic waste itself, but the vermin that waste might spawn? The water in the compactor is most likely residual, naturally occuring condensate from within the vast "dead" spaces required to provide engineering systems. Any habitable structure in space requires internal heating and there would certainly be variations in temperature. Again the writer's bias rears it's head.]

7. Why does the Empire care, anyway, about reducing its organic garbage output? Are we to believe that the architects of the Death Star, a group of individuals bent on controlling the entire known universe, are also concerned about environmental issues? [The architects of the Death Star were the Geonosians, an insectlike race, and a hive society as depicted in Star Wars Episode II: Attack Of The Clones, were indeed allied with the Separatist Confederation, but were they duped by the charismatic Count Dooku and his puppeteer Darth Sidious a.k.a Palpatine, soon to be Emperor of the Galaxy? Most likely they were involved solely to further their arms manufacturing venture. Much like Dick Cheney.] Would organic garbage rot in space? [No.] So what? [So if it doesn't, would that disprove your entire treatise?] Furthermore, why has the Empire gone to the trouble of acquiring a frightening parasitic worm-creature and having it eat all organic trash, especially given the aforementioned flaws in the design of the compactor and overall maintenence hassles? [See above comments on arguments 5 & 6.]

8. Personally, if it were up to me, I would have designed special garbage ships instead of employing a crude, cumbersome, and inefficient (to say nothing of unsanitary) compactor-worm combo to deal with the trash. [Is it not possible that due to political wrangling, that there are indeed trash haulers making a good living and providing kickbacks to Imperial bureaucrats and functionaries based on the design of this compactor? Certainly. The more trash is compacted, the more dense it becomes. That requires specialized equipment and operators to move. The writer alludes to the vastness of the waste generated by the Death Star, that would be one gigantic cash cow for unscrupulous politicians and defense contractors alike.]

9. If the Empire insists on ejecting trash into space, why bother compacting it? Space is infinite, is it not? [No. And certainly not if you keep filling it.] In such an environment, it hardly matters what the size of the trash is. In fact, a persuasive argument can be made that it's actually better for the trash to take up more space, so that it appears on radar systems as something for [Imperial] ships to avoid. [Salvage companies would certainly follow the Death Star around like a swarm of gnats, constantly harassing shipping and flight paths. That would not be a major consideration for a Star Destroyer as it is a much more mobile platform than a lunar-sized space station.] Compacted trash creates smaller chunks of harder trash that would undoubtedly cause serious damage to [Imperial] starships. And needless to say, damage to [Imperial] starships would, in turn, create yet more hassles and headaches for the Empire. [Which proves the author's single point on which I concur, garbage removal vessels would certainly be involved in the waste cycle.]

Please understand, gentle reader, that I am all for creating hassles and headaches for the Empire. I just doubt that the Empire would have created so many for itself. Q. E. D. [Quod erat demonstratum nil. What was demonstrated in this case was--writers of limited engineering experience and dubious knowledge of that galaxy of long ago and far, far away casting aspersions on what seems to be perfectly functional technology should watch their facts . The author's primary assertion, that the Death Star would eject all its trash is belied by the sheer volume and frequency of waste generated. There would be a horrible effluvia surrounding this supposed keen, efficient, military installation that would be intimidating in an entirely different manner. In fact, the station would hardly need its mega-turbolaser to threaten systems. The sheer filth of the thing would be enough to coerce a planetary government to capitulate just so the station would go away. And, the salvage rats and fortune seekers would be ever-present as well. The Death Star's TIE fighters would be busy enough shooing the unwanted intruders away, much less fending off organized incursions. But the technology was definitively shown to be unwieldy and vulnerable no less than twice. So, this argument is moot. The Republic crumbled under its own weight, the Empire from the internal corruption that mirrored its Emperor's, and eventually, so too would even the most miraculous zero-output recycling system. (For more information regarding the Death Star, see Inside the Worlds of the Star Wars Trilogy by Reynolds, et al)]

Plaintive wail

2004-09-02T13:18:00.000-04:00

Promises, Promises

New Essential Media and a revised comment system coming soon! Although I don't know why I bother, no one seems to give a crap, or is it because you all agree with me, and you only want to mock me on the tagboard? Y'know the comments don't cut you off at 100 characters and allow you to have like paragraphs and stuff. Use comments for thematic discussions, a la Will's argument on why Shemp has always been unfairly maligned. Personally, I favor Curly, but there you go! A great reason to use the goddamn comments! Other sites have comments and a tagboard. Their uses are distinct.

On the other hand, I just like feedback, so I don't really care how I get it, so long as I get it! Give it to me people!

Other changes are imminent, so keep your eyes peeled.

2004-09-02T12:19:00.000-04:00

Pour Some Sugar On Me

Literally, please. I need the energy. Oh, what am I saying? I have more soda in the fridge! Excuse me...

...Ahh. That's the stuff. Anyway. A friend has recently stated that the above cited Def Leppard song is annoying. Well, it is, but I have fond memories of that song and the summer it spawned back in '87, so please don't denegrate it too much, Little Miss.

From New York...

Where the city that never sleeps is trying real hard not to hide under their collective covers tonight, it's the R to the N to the C!

Tonight's the night, people. The end all-be all of GOP arrogance. I have only been watching the Republican National Convention through the filter of the Daily Show. And since they're a day behind, I'm getting the news on a delay. But what a wonderful delay it is. There's really no reason for me to watch, Jon Stewart et al have already taken all the good jokes. Tonight's theme at the RNC, "Fuck 'em, what are they gonna do about it." The mock tribute film "George W. Bush, because he says so." These are perfect moments, people. I can't do better, so I'm not trying. I will say this, Arnold Schwarzenegger's nationally-televised embrace of fellow Californian Richard Milhouse Nixon was precious. I'd like to see what the good folks at Wired Magazine think of their cover boy now. There is a profile of the Governator in this month's issue, and it's pretty fucking obsequious. They claim that his brand of populism is 'wired', picking up where paranoid billionaire H. Ross Perot and Ahh-nold's Predator co-star and fomer transvestite wrestler, Jesse "The Body" Ventura left off. Bullshit. Arnold may be socially centrist and fiscally conservative, but he's aligned himself with the evil of Ashcroft and Cheney just as closely as Colin Powell has. Arnold really should stick to leading from the quiet, panelled corridors of Sacramento, and leave the speechifying to others. His chant of "4 more years" sounded more like "sieg heil" and was accompanied by a strangely familar arm motion.

Tonight the tragic hero fascist pigs of the NYPD will step up their jackbootedness for Bush43's appearance and acceptance speech. "Acceptance" has a double meaning in this case, as it is also what some commentators are saying a large part of the country will do in the weeks to come, as sheer cash and a much better political machine sweep ol' W back into the White House. Last night on Nightline, what'shisname [not Koppel or Stephippopotamus] told of a bumper sticker he saw in San Francisco, "It Sucks, But It's Gonna Be Bush"

Wow, apathy already? That's definitely a sign of a GOP wind a-blowin'. Or in the immortal words of the 5th hit off of the mega-platinum Hysteria, "Armageddon It?" We sure are.

Bon Voyage

2004-08-30T12:19:00.000-04:00

GOP

The Republican National Convention was called to order this morning. I will not be attending as usual. The one thing I have noticed is the predominance of cowboy hats. That's great. It goes well with the absence of non-white faces in the crowd.

I can't wait to hear John McCain's speech, supporting Bush43. A more insincere ramble will not be heard until the acceptance speech on Thursday. McCain looks pained to even be attending, he has none of his usual fire, I'm wondering if he'll be able to keep it together until the end of the week, much less November. The Daily Show is on the case, the skewering begins tonight at 11pm!

So let the battle be truly joined. It will be interesting. Election night will be like the Super Bowl, only without the fairness or egalitarian outcome. Do I sound bitter? Yeah, I'm already tiring of the back and forth. This book, "Unfit For Command" has dragged my cynicism out well in advance of any real campaigning. I'm tired of arguing anything having to do with Vietnam that doens't include spicy fishballs. Mmm...

Goop

About a dozen years ago, the first Alien vs. Predator comic book was released. It was a well- written 4 issue series that included a serialized #0 prologue and a short epilogue that both originally appeared in Dark Horse Comics' monthly anthology title. It was a story that was set on a frontier planet where a smallish population of rugged individualist humans raised an indigenous cattle-like meat source for export. The prologue tells the story of how the Aliens were placed on the planet by the Predators, effectively seeding the planet for the coming-of-age hunt that allowed the young Predators to enter their respective clans. Well, the hunt goes horribly wrong, due to a crafty Alien queen who just manages to manipulate the machinery of the Predator seed ship to allow a queen egg to get to the surface. This allows the Aliens to breed many hundreds of soldiers, not just the dozen or so that the Predators were expecting. Then, a curious human discovers the Predator's ship, is promptly attacked by the hunters and in the ensuing melee, the Predator's ship is destroyed, stranding them. Then the fight is taken to the only settlement on the planet where an intrepid Weyland Corp. administrator takes on the Ripley role. She teams with the experienced "huntmaster" an experienced adult Predator who has to discipline his own band of adolescents and fight the Alien threat. Much fun is had by all.

It is a good story, with wonderful line art spoiled by poor color separations. That series should be republished with new coloring as a graphic novel. I'd buy it.

Immediately upon release, Alien vs. Predator #1 was the best-selling comic of the month, and the series made Dark Horse a lot of money, and gained the company a lot of prestige. Not too long after, Dark Horse became a real power in the comic world, not just a quaint hanger-on to DC and Marvel. 20th Century Fox took notice of the attention and price fans had paid and began to discuss an AVP movie. That movie was released a few weeks ago, and has made over $200 million already. I saw it last night, with free tickets from Predator DVDs. I had heard the poor reviews, but I love both of these franchises and was willing to see it for myself. Wow, what a bore. There were plot points in the third act similar to the original comic, but with enough glaring omissions to really frustrate me. There were also ridiculous decisions made. To set the story on Earth, to include a stupid pyramid that changes shape every 10 minutes [completely belying the Alien gestation cycle], to populate the movie with unsympathetic shemps, and worst, to cut the film until it gained a PG-13 rating. Ridiculous. Only 1 character was given more than 1 dimension [and to that end, Sanaa Lathan did well, she's also very attractive, if I was the hero Predator, I would have given her a nice sloppy [redesigned] mandibling before meeting my fate]. All in all a very disappointing experience. I can only hope that due to the money made, new Alien and Predator films will be planned that will redeem both of these still-fertile franchises. Ridley Scott/James Cameron, are you listening? Please don't let Paul W.S. Anderson get his hands on these monsters again, let him and Milla have Resident Evil, that's the level he should be kept to. Hack. Now, Paul Thomas Anderson, that might be interesting.

Gloria

Laura Branigan died over the weekend. She was a one-hit wonder in the early 80's with the song "Gloria". She suffered an anuerysm in her sleep. Go softly, sweet uni-browed nightingale.

Pitch Black

2004-08-24T18:51:00.000-04:00

Ohh, Baby...

I am so in love. Mountain Dew has created a new flavor and it fucking ROCKS!! Pitch Black is the name and over-caffeination is the game. And man am I in the game. This new nectar is grape-flavored, but colored with so much blue crap that the blue actually floats on the foam created when the soda is poured over ice. The stores are selling out of the single-serving sizes, so I bought a couple of 2-liter bottles. I have finished one of those in just the last 8 hours.

We all have our addictions, mine is soda. And grape is my favorite. Grape with caffeine? Who would have thunk it? Actually, the Jolt Cola Company thought of it years ago. They have a clear 'white grape' flavor that is also delicious. But Jolt is really only available in major metropolitan areas, and horribly, I live outside that blessed zone. Damn Jolt, damn them to hell!

Kidding, i'm kidding. Jolt is great. Do you people think I like shilling for a globalizing monster like Pepsi?! I don't! But damn it, I gotta feed the monkey! I feel so great right now. Invincible, irrascible, irritatedly irredeemedly incontrovertably irreplacibly irrrrrrrrrrr...... Gotta go, I'm crashing.

Cheney's Angels

Today, for the first time, I have heard words from Darth Cheney's mouth that are not evil, that are even sympathetic. Today, Dick acknowledged that his daughter, Mary, is gay. That's more than Newt Gingrich ever did for his sister! Moreover, he stated in an official campaign appearance that he does not support his puppet-in-all-other-matters president in using the most profound document in history as a political tool, creating a constitutional amendment to curtail marriage between homosexuals. He firmly stated that he believes that the power to make those laws should lie with the states. 6 days before the GOP convention, could it be that the party is divided? Naw. Only along the lines of religious nuts and economic conservatives. That's not a big deal, is it?

Interesting. One would hope that one loves one's daughters more than money or power. But in Dick Cheney's case, one would wonder. It seems that beneath the carapace of fleshless animosity lies a beating heart.

Unfit, Yet In Command

2004-08-23T01:45:00.000-04:00

Unfit, Yet In Command

So yet another week has gone by in my life without me ever asking the question, "Would we be better off with a guy in the White House who has some well-deserved Purple Hearts?"

Well, the reason that I haven't asked myself this, is not that I don't care [I don't], but that it's completely fucking irrelevant! Let's go through the roster of former Presidents and figure out which were military men. [We'll go backwards, because I'll get bored somewhere around Hoover and I want to get the past century's sacred cows out of the way]

Bush43: AWOL from Texas Air Natl Guard during latter years of Vietnam and lies about it.
Clin-ton: No military service, admits to being a draft-dodger during Vietnam [perfectly understandable].
Bush41: Legit fighter ace in WWII Pacific theater at 18! Distinguished Flying Cross.
Reagan: No military service.
Carter: Naval Academy grad. 7 years service.
Ford: USN Lt. Commander during WWII.
Nixon: USN Lt. during WWII.
Johnson: USN Lt. Cmdr during WWII, Silver Star.
Kennedy: Hmm, from Massachusetts, PT boat commander in WWII, purple heart among other medals.
Ike: 'Nuff said.
Truman: US Army, WWI, Artillery. But he nuked Japan, so big ups to Harry S.
FDR: No military service.
Hoover: No military service.
Coolidge: No military service.
Wilson: No military service.
Taft: No military service.
Teddy Roosevelt: Lt. Col US Army, hero of Spanish-American War.
McKinley: Enlisted as Private, US Army, left as brevet Major.

I could go on and on...

John Kerry is not the first candidate to have their combat record shredded by shadowy, irresponsible cronies of the incumbent. Andrew Jackson was denounced as a brutal monster. But this is the most public, and the most vile round of character assassination that I have ever seen in my 24 years of political awareness. Conservative hosts -- hell, let's face it, Rush-fucking-Limbaugh, should be ashamed of himself. This is base yellow journalism. Accusation without a shred of proof. Opinion masquerading as fact. As the previous recipient of the previously worst sort of public flogging, Bill Clinton stated on The Daily Show 2 weeks ago: "This same group [Swiftboat Veterans for Freedom, or whatever] was also responsible for an assault on Republican John McCain in 2000. This group of Bushites called voters in South Carolina to tell them of the legitimate campaign issue that McCain was the adoptive father of "a black baby". Actually Bangladeshi, but what's the difference, a darkie is a darkie, right?

My fellow Americans, this is just low. Doesn't the Pentagon have a division to see that honors are earned? Do they hand out medals to everyone who requests them? If that's the case, then I'm gonna sign up. I need some new accessories. Jesus, is this what we are reduced to, is this what our proud and honorable President is reduced to? And don't try to defend the Prez or his people as denouncing these ads. Read the text of those statements, there's not an ounce of sincerity in them. The Bush administration is shame-shaming in the general direction of the responsible parties, whilst crossing their fingers behind their backs. The perpetrators of this farce are, in the eternal words of Jesse "The Body" Ventura, in his role as "that soldier with a silly hat, but the greatest gun in the world" from the movie Predator, " [a] bunch of slack-jawed faggots!"

Fight fair, GOP. It'll make you all into goddamn sexual Tyrannosaurs.

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge Of The Sith

2004-07-25T15:04:00.000-04:00

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge Of The Sith

All right! Now that's a title, eh?! It sounds like after 2 lackluster movies and 6 years of griping, George Lucas has finally re-discovered his sense of drama, and his ear for us maniacs who insist on critiquing everything he does. REVENGE OF THE SITH has a nice ring to it. A nice, summer blockbuster ring to it, even if it can't really be made into a cool shorthand version. But I can see the bad review headines already. "This Star Wars ROTS from the head", "ROTS from the core", "What's a Sith anyway?"

Did you know that Return of the Jedi was originally titled Revenge of the Jedi, and that there are products out there with that title that are infinitely more valuable because of the mid-stream name change. Apparently, Jedi are too noble to revenge themselves on anyone. Yeah, those posters, t-shirts, and other items are almost as valuable as the prototype Boba Fett action figure with the working rocket launcher which put at least one kid's eye out [$1500], more valuable than the Princess Leia in her slave girl outfit that came from the factory sans metal bikini top [$100].

Anyway, George, you done good on this one -- so far.

Another great American who done good is Lance Armstrong, not to be confused with the toy from the 70's, Stretch Armstrong. Lance won his sixth Tour de France today by a margin of over 6 minutes. Apt, I'd say. Waiting at the finish was his girlfriend, Sheryl Crow, and his good buddy, Robin Williams. Where were his kids, why didn't the Outdoor Life Network coverage show them? Granted his Mom and Dad were there, but did his bitter ex-wife keep the kids home for this one? Hmm... And on top of that, Lance's good friend and fellow Texan, yes that's right, ol' Bush43 himself called to congratulate the cyclist. Now, I gotta say, I root for the guy, any chance to rub the frogs' noses in how great Americans are is a great day. And I think that he is one of the most courageous athletes in one of the most demanding [and to Americans until Lance broke it out, alien] sports [on the final day the riders had to travel 102 miles!], but Lance has not exactly been a paragon of personal virtue over the last 3 years. He has admitted that unlike other cyclists, even his teammates, he cares only for the Tour de France and none of the other major cycling events. He has had to fight off dozens of accusations of steroid abuse and other doping charges. He divorced the woman who supported his obsessive chase of a sport that wasn't making him any money, but is one of the most expensive sports to participate in, and a 3 year battle with testicular cancer. But that is not to denegrate his acheivement. I got to watch some of this race this week, and I have to say that it really is an inspiring sight.

In keeping with today's theme, running back Ricky Williams of the Miami Dolphins [and former Texas Longhorn] is apparently retiring after 5 years of pro football. He isn't interested in it anymore. He says that he has other challenges in his life that mean more to him, and he wants to be able to spend time with his kids whenever he wants. Good for him! Ricky apparently came to this descison while on tour with Lenny Kravitz. What a friend and councellor Lenny must be! I would make a joke about dreads here, but both Lenny and Ricky chopped off their locks in the last 2 years. Ricky has also stated for the record that he smokes marajuana frequently, and only failed the one drug test due to his forgetting to injest a "liquid that masks the THC" in urine tests. That's Golden Seal, right? Or is it Gold Bond? Golden Shower? I'm not up on the lifestyle, as you can see. He also squealed on fellow heads in the NFL, saying that this mystery liquid is used by dozens of players that he knows of. Great. So he's in the clear, no longer under the NFL's "srict" drug control policies, but he sees fit to fuck it up for everyone else. Have a nice life, Ricky.

Oh, and my own acheivement for the day is that I enrolled in my 401k. Whoo-hoo! Go me!

Object Poverty

2004-07-20T14:43:00.000-04:00

Object: Poverty

So I'm broke right now. Really. I owe money, money, money to credit cards, insurance, Honda. And I'm late on insurance. That's bad. I'm making too many minimum payments on my cards. And the culprit? Food.

That's right, food. I spend way too much on eating out. Here's a rundown.

Breakfast: $0 - I'll usually skip it, or grab something from home. [I'll get to groceries in a moment]

Coffee: $7-10/day - That's 2-3 lattes, etc. depending on how brave I'm feeling. I ususally just get coffee at work. There's a lot to be said for an espresso bar at work.

Lunch: $7-15/day

In the sprawling mega-shopping complex where I work, the choices are limited. I used to go for the hot food bar at the Shoppers Food nearby, but the choices were becoming either putrid or dried-out. Thus, leaving me to look elsewhere. Driving outside of the center becomes an exercise in pissed-off-ness. All the lights surrounding the shopping are timed well in favor of the continually growing traffic on the highway, so it takes 2-3 lights to get out. That's frustrating enough, but then there's the breakneak 10mph pace of the traffic to get through all the lights. It's not worth it, so I make do with the nearby choices.

Convenience Food [$3.5 - $7]: There's a McDonalds, Chik-fil-a, and COMING SOON A&W and Long John Silvers. Those are the fast food choices. Those choices are not for me. McDonalds needs no explanation, they're one side of the triumverate of evil. Chik-fil-a's "never open on Sunday" rule doesn't sit well with me, a staunch atheist and 7-day a week consumer [if only the Virginia ABC stores down here would open on Sunday...]. And the other 2, well, greasy and greasier jumps to mind. There are also 2 gas stations that have delis, Wawa and Sheetz [where there has been a recent outbreak of salmonella]. Lots of choices, but never really satisfying.

In the mid-level classification [$7-12] we'll start with Five Guys, a great local chain of great hamburgers, but they are not fast. Your standard order takes about 10 minutes to prep. But I'm avoiding ground beef that isn't ground in-house. There's a pizza/sub joint, a Chipotle, delicious, but McDonalds owned [so is Boston Market], and a Red, Hot & Blue. There's a Panera, tasty, but long lines and very trendy, Baja Fresh [Damn them, they quit carrying my favorite side, cebollitas!]

That brings us to the box restaurants [$7-25]. There are many, all packed at all hours of the day. Ruby Tuesday, Olive Garden, Fuddruckers [fresh ground beef!], Tia's Tex-Mex, O'Charley's, Cracker Barrel [hillbilly drek], Carrabba's, Buffalo Wild Wings, Cheeseburger in Paradise, Bonefish Grill, Outback Steakhouse, Joe's Crab Shack [which is a horrid, agonizing, dehumanizing place. NEVER GO THERE!]. There are also a few one-off places, a brick oven Italian place, a chinese buffet [don't eat the oysters or the sushi], and an IHOP for good measure. The only ones I frequent are Fuddruckers and the chinese place [I love noodles]. I can spend under $10 at each, and feel satisfied.

There are others, but I'm getting sick of reeling these names off. And frankly, I've lost focus on this post. Oh, I said I'd mention groceries. I would like to be strong enough to purchase only produce, meats, and actual ingredients, but the other costs I incur at the Giant, Food Lion, or Ukrops [in toiletries, cleaning products, condiments and junk food always push me well past what I should spend.

Long story short, I'm not eating anything but Ramen for a month. Let's see, 1 month = 30 days, 1 day = 3 meals, 3 x 30 = 90. Ramen: 10 for $10. 90 /10 = 9, 9 x $10= $90. Hmm. That still seems high. Maybe if I cut out breakfast entirely. I'm not usually up early enough to really need it...

2004-07-16T22:05:00.000-04:00

Generalissimo W

Let me illuminate you.

Last week, the Department of Homeland Security warned that a "credible threat" had been identified naming election day and the presidential elections as targets of terrorism. There was no evidence presented. In the wake of that announcement, a commission devised to ensure fairness in Federal elections, which did not exist until this year, with a political appointee at the helm, has decided to ask the Justice Department and the Attorney General [both Executive Branch agencies/offices and also run by appointees (and in one case, a man who lost an election to a corpse)] to look into the White House's legal options regarding postponing Constitutionally mandated elections in the case of this any disruption by terrorist attack.

It has come to my attention that many naive minds who hear the words "delay" and "election" used together in the same sentence have considered this a prudent and fair tactic taken by the Bush Administration. Using the rationale of "Hey, the President is making sure that elections would be fair. If there is an attack, surely the incumbent would prosper from the public's fear. That's not fair." or "Hey, the President is merely making sure that elections would be balanced if there was an attack, because the voters would stay away in droves"

Bullshit.

The adminstration has set to the task of keeping its man in office for 4 more years. Tom Ridge marches out to put the initial wave of unease on the table for Americans to eat up. Then in the wake of that, another Bush creature [a minor demiurge] steps forward to claim that the election may be in danger and to spark the initial debate that postponing the vote would be advisable. This puts the ultimate partisan to work, John Ashcroft [the archduke of the 7th circle] is in his wheelhouse, baby! It is his task to find some loophole in the Constitution that allows Federal control over the states and the election of a new President. Well, I for one, feel relatively confident that the Patriot Act, one of the most sweeping trampling of citizens' rights in the history of democracy has language in it that will afford them that right. Hmm, interesting that no one has ever read the damn thing, isn't it? Well, once this vague threat and the trumped-up legal leg to stand on have been solidified, it will have to go before the Supreme Court, the group of nine that voted this President into office to begin with. The ruling is constitutional, the election is postponed. George W. Bush remains President of the United States of America until he says otherwise

Can you say Stalin? Can you say Pinochet? Can you say Hussein? Can you say dictator for life? I guess I hear "delay the election" and I think of the molotov cocktail as half full. Maybe I shoud be more optimistic?

Nah.

2004-07-13T13:44:00.000-04:00

T-Shirt Blues

This past Sunday I was taking a bit of a road trip through the beautiful, historic and insect-infested Northern Neck of Virginia. This is a location just East of me here in Fred'burg that lies between the beginnings of the tidal Potomac and the Rappahannock River. The humidity was holding in the heat and the driving was making me drowsy. The previous day, while at work, I had relented my attempt at cutting back on colas due to the fact that I don't seem to have much energy if I'm not downing a Coke or a Dr. Pepper 2-3 times daily. Coffee doesn't do it, other sugary soft drinks don't seem to cut it either. So I stopped at a Sheetz convenience store to pick up some liquid refreshment. I decided on a Squirt, which isn't a cola, but I'm still trying [all that caramel color gets old after a while, and I'm nothing if not stunningly willing to try new things when it comes to consumption of sugary foods and drinks].

The place was packed. There were plenty of minivans full of kids that needed to be kept placated by the crap that they were demanding. I waited behind 5 other customers and their various hangers-on to check out. When I got to the counter, the girl was pretty blase about the transaction, and I was reacting in kind, not making waves, not being overly engaged in the exchange, when I was surprised by a question.

"What's a wookie?" She asked, mispronouncing the fictional noun as wu-key. I didn't quite hear her, being wrapped up in thoughts of my own, like What the hell am I doing in this place to begin with?

I replied, "Excuse me?"

She responded, "Your shirt. What's a wu-key" She mispronounced it with more confidence this time.

I was wearing my favorite t-shirt. A white ringer tee emblazoned with a decal of Chewbacca sitting at the holo-chess table in the Milennium Falcon. underneath the graphic is the C3PO quote, "Let the Wookie win." Done in a pseudo-grafitti cartoon style. My previous favorite t-shirt had been retired due to wear. It was also a Star Wars design that I love so much, I'm probably going to have it framed.

"Oh," I realized and curtly explained, "Wookie. From Star Wars?"

Her youthful face brightened as recognition set in. "I remember that guy! And those little bear-like things..."

"Ewoks." I reminded her.

"Yeah! I used to see those [Ewok] movies when I was a kid!"

I smiled, but inwardly shuddered. Those Ewok movies are actually an improvement from their appearance in Return of the Jedi, but they are still the most regrettable non-Jar Jar characters in the Lucasian mythos. And the fact that this 16 year-old girl remembered them above Chewie, the most noble character in the films, made me ache for this generation's perception of the Holy Trilogy, intertwined as it is with the sub-par prequels and the overly cute scripting. I felt that it weighed on me to explain the entire scene that my shirt evoked and the imminent threat that was implied by the quote. "Droids don't tear peoples arms out of their sockets when they get upset." Says Han Solo leading to Threepio's acute suggestion to R2D2.

I closed my part of the conversation with "They're coming out on DVD."

The exchange ended with her excited "Really?" as I walked out of the store, not wanting to keep the next customer waiting while engaged in banter with this half-brained adolescent. I nodded and flashed a last smile as I unscrewed the cap of my soft drink. I toasted the memory of Chewbacca, and mourned the passing of the pop culture that I know.

2004-07-06T22:57:00.000-04:00

Let The Motherfucker Burn

Howdy! It's been a while because, frankly, I wasn't going to post again until something good happened. As many who know me can attest to, I've been down in the dumps a bit lately. I feel much, much better now.

I splurged today. I spent the morning doing laundry, which was necessary, then I went shopping for underwear, socks and a new alarm clock. My current alarm is simple and straightforward, but the backlight doesn't work anymore, so if it's dark, I have to turn on the light to see what time it is. The underwear and sock story is even more mundane. Unlike many guys, I don't hold onto those items until they disintegrate in the hamper. I needed some more. So, after tearing through Target like a whirlwind, nearly knocking down this old guy who kept drifting into my path, I had 15 minutes to get to the 1pm show of Fahrenheit 9/11. The place was packed at 1pm on a Tuesday in Fredericksburg. There seemed to be a surfeit of seniors who had taken all the aisle seats, so I had to excuse myself past these nice ladies who tried to trip me. It was not my day for enduring the obstacles that seniors present, let me tell you. Anyway, I sat down with my $9.25 worth of concessions and enjoyed a wave of previews including one for possibly the most terrifying film ever, Open Water. A couple is stranded in the middle of the ocean when their dive boat just forgets about them. Great. As I believe that I have recounted here before, this is my worst nightmare. I was scared at parts of Finding Nemo [I am not making this up {Happy Birthday Dave Barry!}].

Anyway, Michael Moore's film is wonderful. It is emotional, hilarious and wrenching. But oddly, all the parts with Mike in them seemed less sincere than in the past. Ooo, ooo, the big book box is featured! Yes! National media exposure! In fact there was a press release regarding that. So cool. That's 2 of 4 Moore films with our company featured. Of course, The Big One featured us in a negative, union-busting light but in this one, we're a backdrop for the Marine Corps' unethical recruiting practices! Back to the film. It was great and I loved it. I also realized that I don't just eschew the Bush administration, and wish it gone from us in all of its illegitimate glory, I truly despise, loathe and wish major karmic harm upon the members of the administration and all they stand for. Rock on, Mike! As I said in a previous post, no new information was presented, but I've been paying attention. The new stuff for me were the reactions of the soldiers and their families not understanding the war any longer. The title of this post comes from one tank crew's chosen soundtrack to war, The Bloodhound Gang's rendition of "The Roof is on Fire". A scene in which a despondent mother of a soldier killed in action visits the White House Ellipse [from which you can't even see the mansion over the screen, just the snipers on the roof], and seems to find meager solace in a quaint protester's display, only to be screamed at by an ignorant, unsympathetic cunt* [Ladies, I do not use that word lightly. Go see it and judge me then.] that none of this is actually happening, that it's all to discredit the country caused my usually submerged emotions to really well up. At the credits, there was applause.

There's been talk that this will become another Vietnam. I don't think that's an apt analogy militarily, but socially, and the distrust that this war has and will sow, that's Vietnam all over.

And check out this week's Time Magazine.

Then I went looking for that alarm clock again, at 2 other major retailers. No dice. Nothing simple, everything has a radio or a phone built in. I know I've seen something similar to mine somewhere. I'll find one. Then I got a haircut. I like the barber I go to. He's a gossip and a loudmouth, but the atmosphere is great. There were some local cops in there today, and an insurance agent. The shit was flying thick and fast. It was actually very egalitarian, very democratic. Aside from the rampant fascism being spouted, I had a great time waiting my turn. Then I got to vent a bit regarding the crazy people blaming me for Clinton's book. I got a lot of support. If the free market is alive and well anywhere, it's at my barber!

Then I really got down to the splurging. I saw Spider-Man 2, again. Spider-Man 2 is quite possibly the best superhero comic book movie ever. Better than Batman. Better than Superman and Superman II. Better than X-Men 2? Maybe. Better than Hellboy? In terms of story, pacing, and direction, yes. In terms of fully-fleshed characters? Almost. Ron Perlman's Hellboy was just so cool, and as much as I like and identify with Peter Parker, he's too whiny for my grown-up tastes. Sam Raimi's direction is ridiculously good. Flashy when it needs to be, intimate when required, and goofy when it should be. But I will say this now, and hold me to this from now on: Kirsten Dunst is not attractive. She's got a dull face, a flacid hippie-chick body, tiny creepy teeth, and no charisma. She is not the Mary Jane that I would have wanted, and not the MJ that comic-book Peter lusts after, then loves. On the other hand, J. K. Simmons as J. Jonah Jameson is freakin' fantastic. That is a great character! Alfred Molina does a fine job as both the sane and insane Doc Ock. What a great movie. Unabashedly setting up the sequel [hell, they may have well said ...To Be Continued] was very nice. And the requisite Bruce Campbell cameo was priceless. He's getting pretty beefy, though. There was even a self-referential homage to Ash's chainsaw! Oh, yeah! Many kudos to Raimi et al!

In closing, there was a preview for Blade III: Trinity. Cool. A new trailer for Catwoman. God awful. But there was also a preview for Anacondas: Hunt for the Blood Orchid. Was it necessary to make a sequel to Anaconda? Clearly not. So, so stupid.

And John Kerry picked John Edwards as his veep. Not bad. Not bad. Wasn't one of the other considerants named Ballsack or something? That would have been unfortunate, but not beneath the Democrats. This is the same party that thought that Lloyd Bentsen was a good foil to Michael Dukakis. I have been seeing many more Kerry 2004 bumper stickers than I thought I would. I think it's time to put my money where my mouth is and make a contribution. $50 bucks should be enough to clear my conscience, but I'll settle on $25. That'll keep 'em hungry.

Also, the New York Times is reporting that the CIA knew there were no WMDs. Great, a year and a half too late. And Cheney is still so in denial that you may as well call him Cleopatra.

*Possibly a plant, tasked with sowing doubt and patriotic fevor.

2004-06-24T20:10:00.000-04:00

Liberal Media?

Do you want to argue that point? Well, this week you've got me. It's true. In fact 'liberal' defines much more than the politics written about in Bill Clinton's My Life, let's face it people, clinton wasn't a liberal, he was a moderate, driven by populist motives. Liberal, hah! I ran across a mildly satirical item that wrote of My Life not as a hazard to our moral fiber, but a hazard to our physical beings. That is one heavy book, man. Actually heavy, as in weight, not subject matter. And therefore a major tipping or crushing hazard. OSHA, are you listening?

Much more aptly named, the liberal harangue known as Fahrenheit 9/11 releases tomorrow. I'm now on rottentomatoes.com where the reviews are 81% positive. Peter Travers, my man, states,

[The film] is ferociously, cathartically funny.

Moreover, A.O. Scott of the NYTimes

"Fahrenheit 9/11," which opens in Manhattan today and in the rest of the country on Friday, is many things: a partisan rallying cry, an angry polemic, a muckraking inquisition into the use and abuse of power. But one thing it is not is a fair and nuanced picture of the president and his policies. What did you expect? Mr. Moore is often impolite, rarely subtle and occasionally unwise. He can be obnoxious, tendentious and maddeningly self-contradictory. He can drive even his most ardent admirers crazy. He is a credit to the republic.

Yep. Go him.

So, the liberal media plot is exposed. Just like the Bush presidency.

2004-06-23T22:26:00.000-04:00

Clin-ton Conquers The Universe

So, Bill Clinton wrote a book. People lined up at midnight around the country for this book, this 957-page behemoth of an autobiography so that they would--what? Go home, read 20 pages and nod off? Jesus. At the big book box on Monday night we were getting many phone calls asking, "Are you staying open to sell Bill Clinton's book?"

No! Go away! Damn you to hell! But I have to say that it was heartening to see such interest in my podunk little town with drastic right-leaning tendencies.

So we sold darn near half of the pallet of copies that we initially received. A pallet, folks!

I suggested to a co-worker today that Clin-ton should have written an abridged version of this tome in a hard-boiled detective story tone.

"I was born in Hope, Arkansas. A town that smelled like a hog fart on a good day."

Or some such crap. Anyway, the book is long, the book is almost as sought after as Harry Potter, and--as I realized today--the book is reviled. Case in point: A woman came in today, just after I dealt with a complicated transaction, and it started like this:

"I want you to take down that sign, and get that--that trash away from the front door of this store!"

What?

"To put that man on display and try to make money off this crap... Who owns this store?!"

Our corporation is publicly owned.

"Publicly?"

Yes, the stockholders own the company.

"That's not public! Public means 'owned by the people'."

I don't think you want to argue with the Wall Street Journal, ma'am.

"Like the library! I think that you shouldn't be putting money in that man's pocket! I think that you should be ashamed of yourself! What's your chairman's number? I think that I need to call him and tell him what I think!"

I can give you our customer care line...

"Great, exactly what I need! Do you feel good about peddling that smut for that man that the entire country is ashamed of?! Or don't you care because you're making money?!"

Well, this is a business, ma'am. I won't deny that it's a popular title and we are offering it because it's in demand.

"But I suppose you don't really care about my complaint. You see, if it was on tv I could change the channel, or turn it off. But I would have hoped that Borders, since you're the only bookstore in town would have some sense not to expose me to that crap! Profiteering smut-monger!"

Ma'am, I'm listening to your opinion...

"But you're only doing what you're told, right?"

Ma'am we sell books, we have hundreds of titles that were considered controversial at one time or another on sale every day.

"You should have a classic displayed next to that smug, smirking face. Catcher In The Rye or something important!"

That's when I stopped listening. No one calls Salinger important in my store. The ranting woman and her companion apologist wandered away once I got her the 800 number to call and pawn her off onto someone else who doesn't care. I almost asked her if she'd feel better if I went and grabbed some copies of Mein Kampf to display next to Bill's book. Seriously, I almost had a chance to work her being a Nazi into the exchange.

Jesus! Of course we're doing this to make money! It's called the free market! What a dope!

400,000 copies in one day. Twice Hillary's initial day's sales. Wow. Bill is back, baby! Hey! HEY!! Hey, ranting, stinking of stale cigarettes bitch! Stick those half million copies up your morally outraged ass along with your head! Bitch! Oh and thank you, come again.

2004-06-18T22:23:00.000-04:00

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

New e-mail addy, baby! Check the left column! bazai.j.fett@gmail.com is the new place you can reach me in the rare instance that you are reading this blog and not a personal, non-web friend of mine, in which case you would have my ultra-personal email. And, I'm considering updating my "design", I'll take suggestions, as long as those suggestions are accompanied by corresponding html.

Also, I may be shaving my beard soon. I think the skin underneath is composting. Eecch.

2004-06-15T16:48:00.000-04:00

The Church Of Diesel

God help me, when Vin Diesel actually has decent material, I kinda like his growling, shaven headed anti-hero schtick. I just got back from seeing The Chronicles of Riddick [they really need a subtitle for this movie] and I liked it, I liked it! I really hate to say it, since other than the previous incarnation of Riddick [in Pitch Black] I haven't seen another Diesel role that hasn't made me want to roll my eyes and groan.

Judi Dench is in this movie. Good for her! She doesn't have a lot to do, but she does get to have powers. Neat. There are 3 [other] hot chicks, some kick-ass effects and a satisfying plot that ends a bit too neatly while setting up a sequel that may or may not come. The script was brief on dialogue but long on descriptives as the settings prove. This is a well-imagined, well-made movie. Not the most compelling film on record, and not as fresh as Pitch Black was [seriously, after Alien, Aliens, and Predator, that was the best space monster flick made.]

There is a companion video game [The Chronicles of Riddick: Escape From Butcher Bay] that bridges the gap between the films, and a straight-to-DVD animated prequel [The Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury] directed by the guy who made Aeon Flux for MTV's Liquid Televison back in the day...

An aside: Universal, which released Riddick, also released Van Helsing. That film was also accompanied by a straight-to-DVD animated feature. I like this trend.

...Y'know, I may have gotten those backward. I've read really good reviews of the game, and I think that the animated film will be a nice addition to my geek library. All in all, I think I'm sold on the Riddick franchise. As long as Diesel can keep getting the financing based on some more profitable future project and he keeps David Twohy on board either writing or directing or both. But this is getting boring. I'll end by saying that this movie is rated R. So why was a family--including Father, Mother and 2 girls under 10, plus an infant--sitting in the back row? And on a Tuesday afternoon?! That's bullshit, go see Harry Potter, which I also saw this weekend and enjoyed. Much, much better than the first two. I gotta say, Emma Thompson and Julie Christie in the same movie was a nice treat. Not to mention Gary Oldman and Alan Rickman. I only wish that the adults had a bit more to do than act as plot devices.

2004-06-06T12:41:00.000-04:00

The Influence of Shaquille O'Neal on Modern Political Thought

Several years ago, in the midst of a pitched battle for dominance of the National Basketball Association, a gaggle of sports reporters had surrounded Shaq at his locker in the old L.A. Forum. They were solicting comments on the evening's game. Shaq, never one to back down from a sound bite, was being more than forthcoming. At one instance, Shaq referred to the nascent, but intimidating Lakers with a word that had gone well out of favor. The word was 'hegemony', and Shaq, in his inimitable way, mispronounced it as hedge-money. Well, the press had a field day with Shaq. They poked fun at his attempted use of vocabulary more in tune with a historian than a baller, they poked fun at his phonetic pronunciation, quite in line with the education a man of his age and background would have received, the poked fun at the attempted irony with which Shaq used the word. ESPN used that incident throughout the playoffs and when the Lakers won, Shaq seemed vindicated. Good.

But a more important end came of this incident. A word long thought dormant, except in speculative science fiction and ancient history had reappeared in the public lexicon. Hegemony means domination. And is the perfect word to describe the United States' new role in the world.

In the June/July issue of Seed magazine, Laurie Garrett writes in her article, The Burden of Power, that:

"If the American people want to confront the roots of would-be terrorism, hatred, and animosity toward our way of life and our nation, our political leaders must address hegemony. It has to be part of our national conversation."

Why? Well in evidence presented in the same article, Garrett points out that:

"Obviously, [the rest of the world has] no vote in the US elections, but if they did, their top issue would be just how American plans to exercise it's extraordinary, nearly unprecedented power."

We cannot ignore the world's perception of us. That has always been important, but it is now imperative. We Americans have a stake in 99.9% of the world's economies. I'll 'officially' exclude North Korea and Cuba for subtlety's sake. In fact, also as Garrett points out, China and Japan hold 40% of US liablities as collateral for their currencies! We have stuck our steel necks out to the global society and they are so ready to be willing to [and in some cases the verdict has been passed], but not able to come up with the alloy needed to lop off our heads. I'll continue to quote Garrett:

"It's difficult to think like a citizen of an all-powerful state when you're buying Vietnamese-made Nikes at the mall and wondering why the mortgage is still impossible to meet, even after financing it down to a remarkable 5.5% 30-year loan. The word hegemon doesn't roll easily over American tongues since 9/11 demonstrated that even Goliath can be brought down by a band of zealots trained in remote Afghan mountians."

Do Americans realize that we have squandered the opportunity that we were presented with on September 11, 2001? We were made the victim and sympathy poured in from around the globe. President Bush had an open invitation to solve myriad problems with the full help of a galvanized gobal partnership, including the United Nations which had watched the towers fall in person.

Paul O' Neill, in his book The Price of Loyalty, wonders if America thought it had "elected a centrist, when in fact it had empowered an idealogue." Well, the simple fact is that he's right. American hegegmony had a chance to jump off the 21st century on a positive note, righting wrongs worldwide with the help of governments ashamed to have seen a horror that many had secretly desired. We could have been a superpower in a more mythological sense, a true Superman, had we acted with humility and a degree of logic and intelligence. Instead, the Bush administration has made us a villian, if I may, a true Lex Luthor, always out for a buck. The administration is now in the process of ignoring the pleas of our allies and enemies alike. We citizens of conscience are now in the position of rationalizing to ourselves and apologizing to others. Craven American tourists are identifying themselves as Canadians overseas. This must stop! The Bush "War on Terror" is a one-sided fight for a democratic foothold in the Arab world, yes, but it is a diversion. The real reasons behind their assertions and the daily loss of American lives is the son atoning for the father's failure in the promises that he made to desert princes. America is a disingenuous tyrant.

But if we are a dominating power, let us at least take a measure of comfort from Thierry de Montbrial, president of the Institut Francais des Relations Internationales, who said

"America is a hegemony. America is the hegemony, whether the US likes it or not. [However, this] is a compliment. If the French were in your position, it would be terrible for the world. You are nice hegemons. You are good hegemons. But you are hegemons."

Pick up the current issue of Seed, a magazine that I am learning to enjoy. Read pages 40-43 and 101-103. There's more interesting stuff there than I have alluded to. After all, I'm constructing an anti-Bush rant. Ms. Garrett's article is more wide-ranging and much more fair than I.

2004-06-05T12:05:00.000-04:00

Answers and More

Here are the solutions to the brainstomping movie questions below.
1989: Jeff Goldblum, Jim Carrey & Damon Wayans
1990: Nicholas Cage in Vampire's Kiss
1991: Killers-Anthony Hopkins in The Silence Of The Lambs, Warren Beatty in Bugsy, Robert DeNiro in Cape Fear Neurotics-Robin Williams in The Fisher King [and everything else], Nick Nolte in The Prince of Tides
1992: Straight Talk [shudder if you haven't seen it, relive the dry heaves if you have]
1993: Alicia Silverstone
1994: Tombstone-Val Kilmer, Wyatt Earp-Dennis Quaid
1995: Happy Scrappy Hero Pup
1996: Napoleon
1997: Swingers
1998: Billy Idol
1999: Stanley Kubrick-Eyes Wide Shut, George Lucas-duh, Terence Malick-The Thin Red Line
2000: Gilbert & Sullivan
2001: John Madden [of Shakespeare In Love fame, not the NFL]
2002: In its full Lucasian nomenclature, Star Wars: Episode V-The Empire Strikes Back
2003: The Walt Disney logo before the film

There. Now you may feel pained and drawn because you were so wrong about so many things. And, on top of that, these are some of the easier questions.

I have just finished a book that is rocketing up the bestseller charts due to its erroneous comparison to The Da Vinci Code. The Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell & Dustin Thomason is more cerebral, logical, compelling and human than Dan Brown's clumsy plot, contrived "research" and stereotypical characters. The only real similarities lie in the dissection of Renaissance culture and the ultimate goal of a lost treasure of Western Civilization. Well-drawn characters, a fully-fleshed setting, and a puzzle that we can't jump to any conclusions regarding are great reasons to spend the next few evenings reading. But I warn you, don't pick it up if you need to be somewhere the next morning.

2004-06-02T09:15:00.000-04:00

Movie Quiz!

Empire is the best movie magazine in the world. Even though some of the news is old [US flicks are sometimes not released for months in the UK. For instance, Hellboy was in theaters on April 6th here, not until September across the pond], the articles and layouts are better than anything American publishers have put together. Premiere is about as close as we get. Anyway, here is a select few questions from Empire's 15th Anniversary Quiz book which was included as an insert in this month's edition listed chronologically by the year the questions pertain to.

1989: Who played the 3 aliens in the Earth Girls Are Easy?
1990: Who ate a cockroach in which film?
1991: All 5 Best Actor Oscar nominees played characters with severe psychiatric problems. Distinguish the 3 murderers from the 2 neurotics.
1992: What is the name of the 1992 romantic comedy that teamed James Woods and Dolly Parton?
1993: Who had The Crush on Cary Elwes?
1994: Who played Doc Holliday in a) Tombstone and b) Wyatt Earp?
1995: In Clerks, name the children's film requested by the mother in the video store.
1996: In Get Shorty, name the historical figure that Danny DeVito's character, Martin Weir, is advertised as playing.
1997: Answering machines. The theme to Jaws. Money. Name the cult hit.
1998: Which rock star makes a crucial intervention in during The Wedding Singer?
1999: Which 3 fabled directors made comebacks after a decade of silence?
2000: On which real life composing double act was Mike Leigh's biopic Topsy Turvy based?
2001: Who was Harvey Weinstein's alternative to direct a single film of The Lord Of The Rings if Peter Jackson couldn't find a new deal?
2002: In Reign of Fire, which film is reenacted by Christian Bale and Gerard Butler?
2003: What is Pirates Of The Caribbean: The Curse Of The Black Pearl the only Walt Disney release not to have?
BONUS! Complete this line of Tarantino dialogue: When you ________ _________ got to kill every ____________ in the room, ______ no ___________.

That's it. Have fun, don't cheat too much, and I'll give you the answers on Saturday.

2004-05-30T19:16:00.000-04:00

14 Days Later

Yeah, it has been a while. Let me see, what has been going on since I last posted? Well, I actually did go flying, but most of you who read this already knew that. I'll only go so far as to say that I did get sick, but had a great time nonetheless. One of these days, when I can afford to, I'll get that second lesson under my belt.

Bubba Ho-Tep was released on DVD last Tuesday. And you thought the big release was Return of the King. Silly. Bruce Campbell recorded commentary as "The King" [aka Elvis] for the flick, and the extras are pretty cool. But the centerpiece is definitely the film. If you enjoy this site, you will like the Ho-Tep. Buy it now! [But not at the big book box, it's not on sale!]

Troy. Enh, no big whoop. It was good, but so terribly inaccurate [in the Wash. Post, Stephen Hunter said that it resembles something that Homer wrote, Homer Simpson] that aside from the nice bit of fight choreography between Brad Pitt's Achilles and Eric Bana's Hector, and the powerhouse performances by Brian Cox and Peter O'Toole [man, it was great seeing Pete on screen again] it was not much more than a way to spend an afternoon. But something else of interest came out of that afternoon. I went to see it with this woman that I have always admired. Yes, yes, she's a co-worker, do I ever meet women outside of work? No, clearly not. Anyway, admired--yes, but she has always culivated a rather aloof persona--though I felt that in recent months we had struck up something of a rapport. She's moving soon, far away, and I feel like I'm going to miss her presence awfully. More so than the two bosom friends [heh, heh] who are leaving or have left in the last weeks. It's a weird sort of regret, mixed with my stubborn curiousity that I was never able to really satisfy. Who was she really? Certainly more than she let on. Did anyone really know her? I won't dwell on it more than to say that I'm going to tell her that I want to stay in touch. But what good would that do? I don't think that I'm going to get into her head through letters or e-mail, and certainly not over the phone. Enough.

Michael Moore's new film, Fahrenheit 9/11 won best picture at Cannes. Charlize Theron presented his Palm d'Or and Quentin Tarantino barked out the announcement. Mike came up on stage pretty slowly. Man, is he a big guy. I think he's getting bigger! Anyway, this "documentary"--I have that in quotes because Moore's films are really not documentaries any longer. The manner in which he structures his projects is not documentary, it's dramatic, there's a story to tell, and Moore tells it through interviews, carefully edited to provide maximum effect. And I have no problem with that, I revel in his creations. There's this distinct visceral tugging going on about my meniscus that truly galvanizes me in the beliefs that I already hold. That's what his films are, a cheering reminder that protest doesn't have to be a boring, idealistic, hippie voice to be effective. And Fahrenheit 9/11 will be no different. Disney has said that one of the reasons it has blocked the film from distribution is the fact that this is an election year. If Moore's film changes any minds that weren't already in turmoil over their previous misguided support of Bush43, then I owe each of you a beer. But, will it centralize revolt and initiate a higher level of support towards getting this absolute bastard out of office? One can only hope. Bob and Harvey Wienstein own the rights now. Distribution will be forthcoming. Sometime in September, we'll all get to see the film that Jeb Bush will tax Disney for allowing to be made.

Oh, and I'm still loving the crap out of TiVo.

How's that for a post?

2004-05-16T15:42:00.000-04:00

I Invented A Word!

Calculucious. Google it. The only hit is me. I have coined a new word. The dictionary entry is thus:

cal-kew-lush-iss, adj. [Ancient Greek]

1. Brimming with compellingly presented, easy to digest mathematics.
2. Possessed of extreme physical beauty used to manipulate others.

Ooo. I rule, totally. Look out Oxford, here comes Banzai!

2004-05-10T22:42:00.000-04:00

First New Blogger Post

So, this is what they've been working on. I dunno, I kinda liked the last incarnation of the composition screen, it was cleaner, less gizmo-y and certainly more on one page. I liked being able to see my previous posts in the lower field, not another window, and I liked the option of seeing my blog in the lower field. Oh well, one voice of dissent isn't going to make much of a difference.

I do like the option of more Blogger-y commenting, but I'm loathe to remove Ennetation's protocols until I've tinkered with the options. I'll set up a brand-new blog with all the new bells and whistles and give it a test drive.

The block quote option is nice.

Anyway, on to more personal crap. I finally saw Kill Bill Vol 2 and I liked it. I can see that it should have been a separate film, but I hope that Tarantino edits the two together into one long piece for DVD [or at least leaves that as an optional choice] The two battles in Vol 1 would have been perfect in between the more conversational scenes in Vol 2. A friend asked me what the purpose was in the scene with Michael Parks playing the old Mexican [Ernesto, Enrique? Shit.] I told her that it is Tarantino indulging himself. She wasn't impressed. But I was, Tarantino loves to hear his dialogue spoken back to him. It's like he never has to shut up! And that's what I love about Tarantino. David Carradine was great as Bill. Cutting off the crusts on BB's sandwich was priceless. And I was pleased to see the 5 point palm exploding heart technique, but not so soon. That final showdown was far too brief. The penultimate duel with Elle Driver was much more to my liking. A bit of advice, do not watch this film with a ophidiophobe [fear of snakes], I did-- and my father had nightmares.

In other news, I have a flight lesson tomorrow. I've taken to calling it a crashing lesson, but I've also been pantomiming the controls that I'm familar with when I think that no one is looking. Back stick = climb, forward stick = descend, left rudder = left bank, right rudder = right bank. Are there pedals on a Cessna? And if so, what do they do again? It's flaps, right? Or are the flaps on levers and the pedals are just the brakes? I dunno, that's why there's going to be an instructor, I suppose.

So, if they actually let me fly with my martyriffic beard and all, and I don't die in a [small] fireball, I'll let you all know how it went.

2004-05-04T12:19:00.000-04:00

Updates

My new DirecTv with Tivo was installed this morning. And just so I don't hear about it after you read the rest of this post, the entire cost is being deferred to my monthly payments. Tivo is amazing. I love Tivo. I've already set it to record every Sopranos episode. Of course, something had to go wrong, the phone line stopped working, which means that I have to crawl under the house and check the cable. So, righ now, I have a 50 foot phone cord snaking through the house to a jack in the kitchen. Ain't that ghetto?

I've just updated the Essential Media section. Lots of good, new stuff. Just a clarification, I don't actually buy all the essentials, if I did I would have nothing left for impulse purchasing, like when I recently discovered a great Holmes spoof finally released on DVD; Without a Clue with Michael Caine and Ben Kingsley is a great addition to any Holmesian's collection. Now, if only The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother with Gene Wilder would be released...

Also below is Season 4 of the Simpsons. This rate of one season per year is ridiculous. If every season of Star Trek TNG can be released in 7 months, and crappy syndicated shows like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World can be forthcoming on a nearly weekly basis, then why can't the Simpsons? What are they waiting for?!

In more serious news:
Our country still sucks and Canada knows it.
America = Lynching [the photos of abused prisoners in Iraq prove it! Those women should be ashamed of themselves!].
Brad Pitt is contemplating retirement.
Michael Jackson is in serious shit. He better stop thanking his fans and start practicing how to make a shiv.
Bill Gates owes $800K in fines because he can't quit his monopoly jones.
Calgary beat the hell out of the Red Wings and it serves them right.
The Beastie Boys new album releases June 18th, and the Pixies reunited.
I still haven't seen Kill Bill Vol. 2.

And on a more personal note:
I need all my friends and family who have birthdays in April to space themselves out a bit more. I spent so much between them already, and I'm not even done! Jenn, I'm getting around to yours, I promise that you will have your alternative menstrual device as soon as I pay down my Visa card! Adrienne, your birthday might be just outside April, but I'm including you. Just so you know- I may have forgotten to call you, but I had a card and a present ready for Saturday. But where were you? On vacation! And to my dear, sweet sister- do you know how much My So-Called Life is? It's expensive, but you'll get it eventually.

OK, OK you would have all had your gifts by now if I didn't have to get new glasses. That may sound selfish, but I have been having painful eyestrain headaches. I swear.

2004-04-23T11:27:00.000-04:00

This photo is courtesy the USAF, via Reuters

Shock & Awe

We all knew that bodies were coming home, we aren't naive. But as long as these images are being suppressed by an administration in denial, it is my duty to display them. Well, this one.

2004-04-20T22:24:00.000-04:00

Computers Are Fun!

So to start off, I just screwed up registering for the beta of G-mail. I keep hearing in the "media" that G-mail is intrusive and possibly evil. Well, it's certainly not as exposing as the crap I write about myself, and evil is an entirely outrageous claim that can only be claimed and/or verified by an online service or software product's direct relationship to any company/entity owned by Bill Gates or his heirs [depending on whether you believe him still alive], or related to any corporation or entity chaired or managed by Michael Eisner.

Here's the story, as simple as it is [and makes me sound]. I registered, but transposed what I saw as my address and my password. I wanted a simple banzaifett@gmail.com, but instead I put my ostentatious password in as address. Not what I wanted. So I deleted the account. The nice program informed me that after 48 hours the account would be deleted. Then I panicked and tried to re-register under an acceptable address name. Nope. Sorry. Other account still active. Fuck. So I e-mailed the support staff who will laugh and laugh at the idiot who thinks he's savvy enough to beta test anything, much less their precious baby, and then they'll reply dryly, explaining what a doofus I am.

Vision

Other news. I bought glasses today. I did not go to Lenscrafters, which is a scam unless your only pair is broken and you need new glasses NOW. Maintaining that lab on-site is expensive. I got 2 pairs of designer frames, one clear and one sunglasses for less than I paid for the current out-dated and increasingly irritating [no shit, I have developed a tic and suffer eyestrain that really make my computer-beset and florescent-lit life difficult] pair that are sitting on my nose as I type. Yes, one pair is sweet, but was last year's line and consequently 50% off, but the other are kick-ass, fan-freaking-tastic Converse All-Star eyeware, baby! Yep, I now will wear Converse on my face and feet, let's just hope I put the right ones where they belong, ba-dump-bum-crash. The glasses have to come from the lab, so 10-14 days until the new me. I'm excited.

Weekend

This weekend I have to attend a 4-day training session away from home which requires me to share a room with a stranger. This will be a nice hotel room with 2 double beds, but I haven't slept in the same room with a person that I don't know since 8th grade summer camp. Note that I said 'slept'. Oh, there have been unfamiliar women in unfamilar rooms...oh, who am I kidding, that's a bunch of crap. The few and far-between women who have spent the night haven't even slept. But not due to any, ahem, erotic physical powers I posess. Let me explain. I snore, due to the possible existance of a deviated septum [thank you Dr. Adrienne] leading to sleep apnea and all other manner of maladies. I feel really sorry for the poor bastard who has to put up with my noisy night's psuedo-sleep. I'm going to take my special thermafoam pillow, and I may give those Breathe-Right strips a third try to attempt to cut down on the snore, but I'm not optimistic. I hope that there are extra rooms available, because I have a feeling that I or my poor roommate am going to have to request one. I should have specified a smoking room. But then there was the possiblity that I would get saddled with an actual smoker who would have really bothered my sinuses. Ahh, fuck it. I'll just jerk off obsessively so the guy will have to sleep in the bathtub. Hmm, that reminds me, I'm going to have to buy something presentable to sleep in. Underwear is not generally acceptable with non-intimate company, right?

On top of all that, I will again miss the 1st round of the NFL Draft. Ordinarily I wouldn't care, but since the Redskins actually have a chance to not suck this year, I was looking forward to it. Ahh, fuck it. I'll just jerk off obsessively until I forget about it.

2004-04-14T20:37:00.000-04:00

Hellboy, Finally

Now, nearly 2 weeks after seeing the damn thing, I can now sit down and ramble aimlessly about Hellboy: the Movie [not to be confused with Hellboy: the Musical or Hellboy: the Candy Bar]. Of course the marketing weiners at Columbia Pictures were sufficiently intelligent not to use a colon or qualifier. The movie is called merely Hellboy, and I saw it on its day of release.

It was kick-ass.

Mike Mignola's creation was brought stunningly to life by Guillermo Del Toro et al [including Mignola himself] and portrayed masterfully by Ron Perlman, who has never looked more comfortable behind his makeup. The adventure was rollicking and the imagery was truly visionary. If you're a fan, buy The Art of Hellboy: the Movie. The best film pre-production folio out there, and the most well-crafted since the Art of [the Star Wars Trilogy] an aside: the Lord of the Rings art books were a bit light for my tastes, nicely designed, but not nearly in-depth enough

I won't go too much more into it, the sheen has worn off and I feel awful about that. I will be seeing it again, early next wee probably after a weekend filled with Kill Bill vol. 2 and carting my ass somewhere that Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is playing. I'll leave the Punisher for the second half of my once-a-fanboy-always-a-fanboy matinee double feature on Tuesday.

Confusion

Is the title of the second book of Neal Stephenson's epic Baroque Cycle. It was released yesterday. Go buy it. 800 more pages of swashbuckling calculucious bliss.

2004-03-27T15:11:00.000-05:00

The ABCs Of Me

Stolen liberally from Jason, who stole from Jon, who stole from Chew.

Animals: Tasha, my spoiled pit bull
Best Friend(s): Austin, Jenn, Adrienne, Olivia [even though I treat them all poorly]
Cohabitants: My dad, Tom.
Desire(s): A 60" plasma HDTV and for George Lucas to redeem the Star Wars franchise with epIII.
Eye Color: Green
Favourite Foods: Tempura, chicken soup, good bread, good cheese
Games: Trivial Pursuit, Tomb Raider, Tempest [this is merely a co-incidence]
Habits: Beer, whiskey, cigars, spending too much time alone
Interests: Film, writing, illustration, but what I really want to do is direct
Job: Retail management, or to put it another way, the Man
Kitchen...wonder or blunder?: I cook amazingly well. Shockingly well.
Languages: English, pidgin Spanish, bad French accent
Most valued possession: My 2003 Honda Element
Name (named after?): My father was in charge of naming me, he thought mine sounded interesting.
Outfit you love: Shorts and a clever/cool t-shirt
Pizza toppings: Mushrooms, and sometimes anchovies
Question asked to you the most: Can I have Saturday off?
Relationship: nope, unfortunately...sigh
Sport to watch: Hockey, college basketball, surfing [I know, weird, right?]
Television show(s): Simpsons, Sopranos, Miami Vice
Unsavory characteristic: latent misanthrope, and I still think my earlobes are too long.
Video: Video is dead. DVD: Fight Club and Lord of the Rings
Webpage: this is it.
Xylophone (or other instrument): Slide whistle.
Year born: 1970
Zodiac Sign: Leo, the lion.

2004-03-27T13:54:00.000-05:00

I knew I could rely on you to call me out! Thanks Coen Fan! See the revised list below.

P.H.D Spells Fudd

The Coen Brothers are losing their touch. Last fall's Intolerable Cruelty was light fare, on a par with a Rock Hudson/Doris Day romp circa 1962. But this was not shocking as the original project was not theirs. It was fluff, no edge to it, not Coen-y enough.

The Ladykillers is based on a film that was short on plot, but big on talent, Alec Guinness starred as a con man/bank robber who had to charm a little old lady to get to the vault of a London bank. He also played 4 other roles, all in comic relief. That is an uproarious movie. And Alec Guinness was a master actor, as funny as he was beliveable in dramatic roles. Tom Hanks is affable and talented, and this role is well-played, but he ain't Alec Guinness. The Ladykillers is needlessly profane, Marlon Wayans seems to have been cast merely to allow the liberal use of the wonderful word 'motherfucker' and to add some hippity-hop flava. Irma Hall as the landlady of a nice house on a camellia scented street dripping with Spanish Moss somewhere along the Mississippi is amazing. She has great timing and a generous screen presence. I couldn't stop chuckling at her early and continued references to "I Left My Wallet in El Segundo" a song by the lamented Tribe Called Quest. It's a ten-year-old hip hop reference. And while I got it, the chances of thousands of viewers getting it is slim.

After a [sadly, non-speaking] cameo by Bruce Campbell, the supporting cast is a fine group. J.K. Simmons is funny as the ex-freedom rider, now demolitionist with IBS Mr. Pancake, and Tzi Ma is great as the Colonel [from somewhere in French Indochina]. Marlon Wayans does his job well, and his face during a death scene is nearly heart-wrenching. That's the charm of the Coens. They blend comedy with truly effective dramatic acting to heighten the laughs when they come. The other guy, Lump, well he doesn't really merit much comment. He plays the dumb henchman well.

Tom Hanks' performance was subtle and broad, both at the opportune moments. His character is well-fleshed, but frankly, a bit grating. I could have seen more character development amongst the gang, especially Lump and the Colonel. Mr. Pancake actually gets too much screen time for my taste. The funniest scene is in Waffle Hut, where the gang gathers to bemoan a bit of bad luck. "Madam, we must have waffles. We must all have waffles, forthwith--" Is a catch phrase that will stick with me for a good, long time. Just like a waffle breakfast.

Here's how I would rate the Coen's films

Blood Simple: 3 1/2 stars
Raising Arizona: 4 1/2
Miller's Crossing: 4
Barton Fink: 4 1/2
The Hudsucker Proxy: 4
Fargo: 5 [really going out on a limb there]
The Big Lebowski: 4
O' Brother Where Art Thou?: 4
The Man Who Wasn't There: 3
Intolerable Cruelty: 2
The Ladykillers: 2 1/2

See, they're slipping.

2004-03-16T18:25:00.000-05:00

Worldwide Pants

So, the dress code at the big book box is changing. No longer can managers, of which I am one, wear shorts [which I do, year-round] or blue jeans. Denim is OK, but not blue. And women can wear skirts, but not shorts, and neither can men. The jury's out on whether capris are allowed. There was an initial push to require men to wear collared shirts, but that was deemed sexist, and not followed through on. I will not submit to unfair rules.

All this means that today I had to go shopping. I hate shopping. What I would have preferred to do was to go to a surplus store, buy 6 pair of BDU trousers in various shades of military-issue bland, and have done with it. But, I didn't--not yet. I went a less institutional, but no less generic route. Fashion, thy name is Old Navy. I bought 2 pair of pants from that establishment, a pair of olive cargo pants, and khaki 'workman' jeans. Then I went to Old Navy's parent company, The Gap and bought a pair of black cotton/nylon blend pants that have all sorts of athletic features. Then, I happened by American Eagle and perused their clearance rack. I found 2 pairs of distressed pants that fit, but not for long if I keep gaining weight. They're both grey, they have patterns in the fabric. They look vintage. I'm not done yet, I think I should have at least 7 pairs, so I don't have to do laundry every 5th day. I think I will pay a visit to the surplus store. Camoflage isn't just for hunting.

I don't want to stop wearing shorts. I love the feel of bare lower legs. I swear, this does not mean that I'll be wearing socks all summer. That's just too much to ask.

2004-03-11T11:38:00.000-05:00

Holy Casting, Batman!

The newest installment in the Batman cinematic legacy has begun filming in, of all places, Iceland. Christopher Nolan, the director of Memento and Insomnia, as well as his first film, Following [available for rent at Netflix] is at the helm. And here's the principal cast:

Bruce Wayne/Batman - Christian Bale
Lt. James Gordon - Gary Oldman [Oscar Nominated]
Alfred, the butler - Michael Caine [Oscar Winner]
Lucius Fox, a business partner of Wayne - Morgan Freeman [Oscar Nominated]
Henri Ducard, Bruce's mentor - Liam Neeson [Oscar Nominated]
Ra's Al Ghul, simply the best Batman villain who you don't know- Ken Watanabe [Oscar Nominated]
Rachel, some chick Bruce knew back in school - Katie Holmes

The screenplay was written by Nolan with help from David S. Goyer, who has written and produced both Blade movies. The story was inspired by the best Batman story ever, Batman: Year One, published in 1987-88 and written by Frank Miller, who also wrote The Dark Knight Returns, perhaps the most influential series ever produced. That's a kick-ass combination in my book. The title needs some work, but with the crappy precedent set by the previous 3 films, Batman Begins is appropriate.

There is also a Batman: Beyond movie in pre-production. It's based on the cartoon series set in the near future. Darren Aronofsky [Pi, Requiem for a Dream] is advocating for that project. This is major muscle behind these projects.

I remember being very hyped about the 1989 Batman, and it was worthy of such hype. I saw Batman Returns, it had its points, both good and bad. Batman Forever was crap, Tim Burton really punked out by turning over the reins to Joel Schumacher, possibly the worst first-echelon director working. OK, I'm being too kind. He's a hack. A bad hack. Go away, Joel. Go back to hairdressing. The 4th movie bears no comment at all. Frankly, I would hope that this film would be called Batman: Year One to differentiate itself and create a re-jumping off point for a gritty, well written series that would dispell the bad taste of seeing Clooney and O'Donnell's latex nipples doing their best impressions of Adam West and Burt Ward. With any luck, the continuing crop of comic movies that don't suck [i.e. Spider-Man, X-Men, Hellboy, The Hulk, Blade, etc.] will propel the new Batman back into the rarified place it belongs.

2004-03-09T11:24:00.000-05:00

The Starsky of the Hutch

With a distinctive pre-Nike swoosh on the car, and a rustle of double-knit trousers, another 70's phenomenon has plopped back into our midst like so much lukewarm fondue. However, it's spicy, creamy, possibly even chocolately fondue. In fact, it's the ultimate fondue, fondue as Willy Wonka would command the Oompa Loompas to concoct. Cheesy and delicious. Damn, did I laugh. Damn. Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson [hereafter known as "The Two Dragons"] have been in several movies together [here's the list, you know how much I love lists!]:

Royal Tenenbaums
Meet the Parents
Zoolander
Permanent Midnight

All excellent films. Let's keep the streak going, boys! This movie was funny, funny, funny--beginning to end, with no little help from Vince Vaughn, who hasn't been this likeably obnoxious since Swingers. He really needs to embrace that and just go with it. While he's good in other roles, his real talent is smarm. We miss that. Snoop Dogg shows real courage in appearing in his boxer shorts, damn that man is skinny! And I really hope he forgives Vince for the slap. I would not want to piss off Snoop. Will Ferrell is hilarious as usual in a small, but memorable role.

Starsky & Hutch is also the vehicle that just may get Carmen Electra some real roles. Finally! She's been unfairly considered just a Stuff, Maxim, FHM, etc. cover girl for so long! Now that she's demonstrated some acting chops, and I mean chops, she can give the covers of those above publications over to her understudy, Jennifer Love Hewitt.

Seriously, get out and see it. I can't say enough positive things about it, just like Dude Where's My Car? Make it a Saturday double-bill with The Passion. Deciding which you see first could be a microcosm of your life. You see Passion first, then S&H to regain your secular enjoyment of life, or S&H first, then Passion to atone for your sins. Interesting.

And now, to stimulate your intellect, ponder this--Kierkegaarde's last words were: "Sweep me up." There you go. Two Dragons RULE!

2004-03-01T10:43:00.000-05:00

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar Pt. II: Triumph of the Ring

Well, here's the part where I get my comeuppance, or am made out to be a ninnyhammer. Sorry, I've just finished reading a novel of the 17th century. The below, italicized remarks were made back in January, as if it's been so long that you couldn't recognize it. If you were too tired, bitter, or bored [I was all three] to watch the show, the actual winners will be marked with, duh, Winner!! in bold.

Chew on these for 48 hours. I'll get back to you then. My picks are marked with a *, picks in which I was torn, but made a tough decision get ** and the runner-up gets *.

BEST PICTURE
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING* Winner!!
LOST IN TRANSLATION
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
MYSTIC RIVER
SEABISCUIT

DIRECTING
Fernando Meirelles- CITY OF GOD [Who? What? Has anyone seen this? It'll probably win.]
Peter Jackson- THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING*** [3 stars for 3 movies-1 award] Winner!!
Sofia Coppola- LOST IN TRANSLATION
Peter Wier- MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
Clint Eastwood- MYSTIC RIVER

WRITING (ADAPTED SCREENPLAY)
AMERICAN SPLENDOR* [The best adaptation yet of a graphic novel to screen.]
CITY OF GOD
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING [While a great challenge, there were gaps.] Winner!!
MYSTIC RIVER
SEABISCUIT

WRITING (ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY)
THE BARBARIAN INVASIONS
DIRTY PRETTY THINGS
FINDING NEMO
IN AMERICA
LOST IN TRANSLATION* Winner!!

ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE
Johnny Depp - PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL* [Johnny would have been my vote if not for Bill's nomination.]
Ben Kingsley - HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG
Jude Law - COLD MOUNTAIN
Bill Murray - LOST IN TRANSLATION** [Give the man his statue!]
Sean Penn - MYSTIC RIVER [Don't go to the show, Sean!] Winner!!

ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE
Keisha Castle-Hughes - WHALE RIDER [Who, Keisha Knight-Pulliam, little Rudy from Cosby? Isn't she on Celebrity Mole?]
Diane Keaton - SOMETHING'S GOTTA GIVE
Samantha Morton - IN AMERICA
Charlize Theron - MONSTER* [Making out with Christina Ricci would make up for the makeup.] Winner!!
Naomi Watts - 21 GRAMS

ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Alec Baldwin - THE COOLER
Benicio Del Toro - 21 GRAMS
Djimon Hounsou - IN AMERICA
Tim Robbins - MYSTIC RIVER Winner!!
Ken Watanabe - THE LAST SAMURAI* [Christ, if he held his own with Tommy Cruise, he's got my vote.]

ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Shohreh Aghdashloo - HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG* [Just because.]
Patricia Clarkson - PIECES OF APRIL
Marcia Gay Harden - MYSTIC RIVER
Holly Hunter - THIRTEEN
Renee Zellweger - COLD MOUNTAIN Winner!!

ANIMATED FEATURE FILM
BROTHER BEAR
FINDING NEMO* Winner!!
THE TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE [I only saw the trailer, but it looked pretty cool, but French in a non-French kinda year, poor frogs.]

ART DIRECTION
GIRL WITH A PEARL EARRING
THE LAST SAMURAI
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING* [The strongest effort ever, period.] Winner!!
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
SEABISCUIT

FILM EDITING
CITY OF GOD
COLD MOUNTAIN
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING Winner!!
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
SEABISCUIT* [A masterpiece of pacing, completely effective. Hell, it made me cry!]

CINEMATOGRAPHY
CITY OF GOD
COLD MOUNTAIN
GIRL WITH A PEARL EARRING
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD* [Shooting an entire movie afloat? Worth it.] Winner!!
SEABISCUIT

COSTUME DESIGN
GIRL WITH A PEARL EARRING
THE LAST SAMURAI
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING* Winner!!
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
SEABISCUIT

MAKEUP
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING*Winner!!
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL [Too--how shall I say--Disney.]

SOUND
THE LAST SAMURAI
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING*Winner!!
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL
SEABISCUIT

SOUND EDITING
FINDING NEMO
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLDWinner!!
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL*

VISUAL EFFECTS
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING* [Please, is there any doubt?]Winner!!
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL

MUSIC (SCORE)
BIG FISH
COLD MOUNTAIN
FINDING NEMO
HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING* [I only own 3 scores, the Star Wars trilogy, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and this trilogy. That's how good it is.]Winner!!

MUSIC (SONG)
"Into the West" - THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KINGWinner!!
"A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow" - A MIGHTY WIND** [Should win, but won't. Too funny.]
"Scarlet Tide" - COLD MOUNTAIN
"The Triplets of Belleville" - THE TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE* [If it's the song playing in the trailer, it gets my vote.]
"You Will Be My Ain True Love" - COLD MOUNTAIN

DOCUMENTARY FEATURE
BALSEROS
CAPTURING THE FRIEDMANS
THE FOG OF WAR* [Errol Morris is a goddamn genius, and if just one person in the Bush White House would see this... Man.]Winner!!
MY ARCHITECT
THE WEATHER UNDERGROUND

DOCUMENTARY SHORT SUBJECT
ASYLUM
CHERNOBYL HEART [The mutated radioactive commie heart of a meltdown survivor goes on a killing spree! Grade-A B-movie schlock!]* Winner!!
FERRY TALES

FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM
THE BARBARIAN INVASIONS Winner!!
EVIL [The bio-pic we've all been waiting for.]
THE TWILIGHT SAMURAI* [Anything with samurai, even if it's only in the title]
TWIN SISTERS
VELARY

SHORT FILM (ANIMATED)
BOUNDIN'
DESTINO
GONE NUTTY [Funny.]
HARVIE KRUMPET* [Funnier.] Winner!!
NIBBLES

SHORT FILM (LIVE ACTION)
DIE ROTE JACKE (The Red Jacket) [Ahh, a German blaxploitation comedy about valet parking. How can it lose--What?! It's not? Damn.]
MOST (The Bridge)
SQUASH
(A) TORZIJA ([A] Torsion) [Is this the film that inspired Torque? If Ice Cube liked it, so do I.]
TWO SOLDIERS Winner!!

And, now for the announcement of the winner of The Award That Doesn't Exist, But Should:

BEST SPECIAL PERFORMANCE
Ellen DeGeneres- FINDING NEMO*
Andy Serkis- LORD OF THE RINGS: RETURN OF THE KING**
The 20 horses that played Seabiscuit- SEABISCUIT
Johnny Depp- ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO**
Tokyo- LOST IN TRANSLATION Winner!!

I outguessed myself! How about that?

This list, if you've made it this far is an apt vindication of the filmmaking process. Peter Jackson et al, simply put more of themselves into the past 7 years of their work than any of these other talented people. They deserved all 11 awards this year, and more from the past 2. The only possible bitterness that I could have is that there were not more acting nods for the LOTR cast. Let's face it, Ian McKellan should have won for Fellowship of the Ring. And Viggo Mortensen, Elijah Wood, and Andy Serkis should have been nominated at some point.

I finally saw Mystic River and it was a great movie, Sean Penn was good. We would all have liked Bill Murray to have won, right? But he's just now beginning to show his form, let's see what he does the next 2 years after a nomination. Tim Robbins was very effective, tortured even, but frankly the film never really sold me on the red herring.

Monster is still on my go-see list. So, I'll reserve judgement. However, Charlize Theron is South African, and has in the past been portrayed by media sources to have expressed sympathy for the former government of repression that fought for decades to keep apartheid in place. However, she seems earnest. The IFC's Independant Spirit Awards showed her as dedicated and gracious while dressed down. I'll let that stand as that. Renee Zellweger--ahh, who cares! Cold Mountain was gonna win something, why not this? What a night for blondes, huh?

The Best Animated Film category cannot continue to be Disney vs. Disney. Let's face it, Brother Bear was a flop 6 ways to Sunday. There must be more nominations for other works. Finding Nemo was funny and sweet, but hardly broke any new ground in storytelling. There must be more recognition for films that extend the boundaries. Also, it cannot continue to be a category for the kids' movies. I haven't seen Triplets of Belleville--yet, but I know that there had to have been 1 or 2 Japanese flicks that were worthy. Weren't there?

In summation, the news I've read this morning makes me happy. And for more reasons than the winners announced. Apparently the Hollywood community isn't afraid to criticize our heroic war president this year. Sean Penn was "impish" in his statements according to Cnn.com, and Errol Morris kept the short tradition of the documentary winner railing against injustice. Billy Crystal was wearing thin elsewhere in his career, but I always chuckled at his Oscar performances. It sounds like he was in fine form.

2004-02-28T12:18:00.000-05:00

Zombies: The Undead, or the Misunderstood?

Over the centuries, many stories, fables and tales have been written of the dead returning to life and preying on the living. These stories appear in all cultures, in all corners of the world. Now, with a remake of George Romero's film, Dawn of the Dead looming on the horizon, and last year's hit 28 Days Later... A new era in zombie repression has begun. Let's examine the mythos that holds the zombie, or more accurately, the zumbeve, in their place as bogeymen, terrors from beyond the grave.

In North America, the zombie legend stems from the spirit worship/animism of Eastern Africa and was transported here with the slaves whose practiced it. The loa, or high spirits, akin to gods, would "ride" worthy subjects and thus exert their influence. Conversely, those worthy few may have been said to be channeling those same spirits. This was a sign of power in either case. That tradition of worship extended to those "spirit horses" were supplemented by the use of psychotropic and hallucinogenic substances during rituals. Those obeah men and/or vodun priestesses would often feed these preparations to their followers inducing trances, visions, etc. It may have come by accident, or perhaps it was a particularly deft amateur chemist who devised the mix of plant matter, but at some point these spiritual leaders began to use particularly effective compounds to enduce deep trance states, rendering the subject extremely suggestible. These people were not dead--although the legends still claim that they were--but would shamble about in a near-comatose state,. They were able to be commanded by less-than-ethical "holy" persons, out to exploit them as unwitting henchmen, or perhaps as retribution for some perceived transgression against the faith. Occasionally, these poor souls, perceived wrongly as malevolent by the superstitious populous, would be coerced into committing crimes, even murder, by these drugs and the power of suggestion. These were the zumbeve, the walking dead. The belief system that created these "undead" still exists in these modern times, albeit in a hybrid form [after centuries of Roman Catholic influence] and in an extremely marginalized state, as Santaria or Voodoo. Other theories put forth in popular culture present a even more tragic genesis of the zombie.

Our second theory has its foundations firmly set in more "civilized" religion. For millennia, it has been thought that as believers die, their spirits [i.e. souls, represented as mystical, or more practically, electromagnetic energy, or perhaps the mysterious 21 grams of weight (matter) that the human body loses upon death] travel to alternate planes of existence. Now, in most mono- and multi-thesistic religions, those spirits are judged as either worthy to enter a form of eternal paradise or condemned to a infernal place of punishment [or a great void]. Since all major religions have at their core an unwillingness to allow other religions their due, there is language in all the scriptures designating each specific belief structure as the one true faith and that all unbelievers in that faith are not worthy of paradise. Now, let's imagine that while humanity has split paradise into many different realms, that there is only one plane where righteous post-human energy travels, and one plane where condemned post-human energy travels. Since there are many more billions of souls condemned for their lack of belief in one way or another, and the atomic structure of any plane can only hold so much energy, the theory is simple: Hell is full. That means that the spirits of the freshly dead first travel to an etherial holding tank, for a variable amount of time equalling however long it takes to be measured/weighed/judged in whichever method your faith sees fit-- This process is a frustrating and ultimately [since we are all sinners in some deities' eyes] traumatic experience. The spirit is then is promptly sent to Hell/Purgatory/etc. to wait for your punishment to begin. In this example, Hell is full, but since energy is is flux, it may be that some are "admitted" [perhaps only for a short time] and some are flushed, by not-as-yet understood bureaucratic energies, back to our more mundane plane. Imagine: with no more room in Hell/etc. that after being damned, and enraged or possibly driven insane by the ordeal, your spirit is flung back to Earth to be kept prisoner in your spirit's former container, now a pile of decaying remains, until such a time as a slot opens up for you. After all that psychic trauma, and strain upon your non-corporeal form, plus the fact that you are still at least marginally aware of your plight, wouldn't you be pissed off at the living, with a vengance so strong that only dismembering and perhaps devouring those that wronged you would slake? From a modern psychiatric standpoint, zombies are the victims here. Victims, ironically enlightened with the horrible knowledge that they have been judged, but with no hope of redemption, contrition or confession, just endless remorse and guilt festering and gnawing in their consciousness into absolute, abject hatred. We should pity the zombie.

Our third theory depends upon which popular film/music video you may be watching, zombies can be created by radiation, either Humanity's misguided attempts to harness, or space-borne, eminating from a meteorite or comet fragment, or some chemical/toxic material leeching into the ground. These myths usually involve a graveyard near a nuclear testing range, a power plant, or just a convienient landing spot. Given the amount of real estate devoted to burial rites, it would be hard for a meteor to miss a cemetary or perhaps a golf course in the United States. Either way, you're going to happen upon flaccid minds in unhealthy bodies that would have virtually no defense against the radiation. An important distinction being that golfers are not technically dead, and therefore would have to be classified more as mutants than zombies. In a few examples the zombie is created by a virulent contagion, again either misguidedly man-made or providentially space-borne. In any case, the bodies of the dead are then imbued with unearthly strength and the improbable hunger for human flesh, more specifically, brains. The theory then goes on that perhaps the radiation stimulated long dormant adrenal glands and that the hunger for brains is actually for more adrenelin to perpetuate the zombies activities until they can pass along their traits, just like any other organisim. Interesting, but ultimately unlikely. Let's face it, the human brain tastes really great, is high in beneficial unsaturated fats, low in carbohydrates, high protein, and swimming in vitamins and minerals!

The next article in this series will present the modern backlash of the myth of the unfortunate vampire. Future installments will examine the pirate [swashbuckler or product of a flawed economic system?], and the mad scientist [public relations nightmare or visionary?].

2004-02-25T22:41:00.000-05:00

10 Things on My Mind

1. Rye and Sierra Mist or 7&7. But I like rye better. Oh, this is literal, I've had 3 in the past hour and a half.
2. Basketball [2 kinds: NCAA and the stupid hoops I go out and play. Shut up, it's good exercise and, Jesus, do I need the exercise].
3. Mardi Gras, featuring Shrove Tuesday [pancake race included], Ash Wednesday, Maundy Thursday and Fuck you Friday. Lent. What a bunch of horseshit.
4. "Banging in the Nails" by the Tigerlilies.
5. How to not feel like a pedophile while watching Alison Lohman in Matchstick Men.
6. They have 1/2 gallons of Ben & Jerry's in California?!
7. Is there a new thing called a Wedding Shower in which the bride and groom invite friends over for mimosas and lingerie presents? Cause if not, then I just got invited to my cousin's fiance's bridal shower.
8. Kelis' milkshake.
9. They have a pepper bar!
10. Opus searching for the other cast members of "Bloom County". God, I hope he finds Steve Dallas and Steve isn't gay anymore, not that there's anything wrong with that, I just like the recalcitrant jerk-off as he was, all Oxford shirts and clumsy machismo.
[BONUS THOUGHT!]11. Crossword puzzles.

2004-02-23T12:34:00.000-05:00

Delayed Reaction

I can see him, but it's the sounds that grab me. The distinct hiss of blades on the ice within the split-second of silence after a collective intake of air to fill your lungs inside the arena before they, you, and all erupt with unmitigated human elation. Not even a slight clap from his skates, effortless, solitary speed on his way towards the true goal. I hear all of this, then I see him. He takes 3 long strides with his stick flapping at his side, then gathers the puck, digs his blades in to adjust his course around the outstretched timber of the impotent defenseman. I glance at the goalie, but who can look away for too long? It's the drama of inevitability, the roar of certainty. Peter Bondra on his way to the goal mouth was more of a sure thing than death when you were witnessing it. He was pure exalted joy in the hearts and on the lips of every Washington Capitals fan. He was and is the archetype of European hockey. More importantly, number 12 was this team for fourteen-plus seasons, and now he is gone. Traded for a mediocre prospect and a low-round draft choice to a contending team which will use him sparingly, in a foreign sweater, on strange ice, with only grudging support from alien fans whom he has burned too many times.

If there is any justice in Washington sports-- and there doesn't seem to be much outside of a burgundy and gold jersey coached by Joe Gibbs-- Peter Bondra and all the toughness, finesse, and class he embodies will return to the Capitals in enough time for him to become the all-time games played leader [he only needs 22] and on the day of his last game, at the final horn, we will raise his number to the rafters. Twelve. On high, for all to see. And we will see his toothy, true smile once more.

There will be more familiar faces leaving MCI Center ice before the season, but I won't miss any of them more than the man you stop breathing to watch. Good luck in Ottawa, Bonzai.

Nader=Bush

Go home, Ralph! This election is too important for your damn-fool, idealistic crusade. Go home, Ralph. The only people happy to see you are Republicans. Once Bush43 is removed, feel free to start up that 3rd party. But for now, go home. No one cares that you kept the Corvair off the streets, no one cares that you're tight with Phil Donahue, no one cares about the Greens right now. We want the evil king cast down, and you are not our only hope. Go home. When last you appeared, you had my support, because I didn't think it could have been this bad. I wanted to make a statement, I wanted to show whoever would listen that I was ready for a 3rd party. Well, this time I could care less. Go home, Ralph. A living wage is a nice thought, but one has to enjoy the living before caring about the wage. America is not a good place to live right now, and you aren't going to win. Go home. A vote for Nader is a vote for Bush. You see, I actually like you, Ralph, and I don't want to not vote for you. And I don't want to feel bitterly toward you, but we can not have another 4 years of W-ism. Go home, Ralph. Go home.

2004-02-20T15:24:00.000-05:00

Poverty

This is going to be a completely indefensible rant. Hunger, homelessness, and poverty abound in their actual definitions more than you may think. And certainly those who can't afford a roof, or a pot of rice, or more freedom than what their feet allow will scoff and sneer at my bourgeois problems, but here goes anyway.

I can't afford DVD's anymore. Not in a cash money sense. My finances now resemble Enron's in that I pay actual discernible dollars for very little, and then I owe those who allow me to purchase the things that make life more livable. I pay every cent of: mortgage, car and food. Everything else is an exercise in credit and debit. I bought 2 DVD's yesterday, with the full knowledge that I couldn't actually take the money from my bank account. I charged them to my Visa, and today--a week late--I paid just over the minimum on last months Visa bill. There's a substantial balance. Not maxed out, by any means, but substantial. I also paid my Amex, and my Mastercard. The one thing I love about American Express is that you have to pay it off by the middle of the next month. I dig that. It keeps you a hell of lot more honest than the other credit services and it allows you to budget properly. Visa and Mastercard remind me more of the shopkeeper who extends credit, then collects when it suits him most. More than often with hired goons and a sandwich board in tow, proclaiming you--once they're done with their work--that you are a gimpy, no-account loser who shouldn't be trusted.

This is America, and Europe, and most likely anywhere else that banks have rules which take full advantage of your stupidity. What's that Latin phrase for buyer beware; 'cave canem', 'sic transit gloria', 'lassiez-faire'? I have a stake in a home, a structure which is an asset. I have a car registered to me, that I pay the lender for. Thanks, Honda! [I mean this absolutely sincerely, I have no problem writing the check for my car payment, I love my car!] I have no other assets, and no other worth. Well, that's not entirely true, I have a comic collection that, for the most part, is probably depreciating each day.

The realization came upon me that I am a giver to the economy, not a taker, I have no investments. I have no recourse, nothing to sell. I have skills that I could barter, but I don't use them. What if there was a cataclysmic collapse? Where would I be? I would be the indentured labor, most likely, the fodder for the wheel. Perhaps my potential would be noticed and I would become a valued asset myself. Gold to others, none for me. Back to basics.

Jesus, this is depressing.

The point to all this is, I want to go see a movie and get some Chinese food. But that thought makes me feel extraordinarily guilty in my current situation. Guilty and selfish and gluttonous, and evil. And that on top of the 2 pricey Criterion DVD's that I picked up last night.

On top of all that, I have deductions this year on my taxes. I am going to have to pay to have my taxes prepared so that I may recoup some cash. I must get enough back to get a new pair of glasses, the exam that goes with them, and some cash to invest. I must get on the other side of the fence. I should be enrolled in a 401K, I should have something set aside. I must begin taking from America. But that begs another question. Who am I taking from? People like me, and people not as fortunate as me. Is that success? Is that freedom? Is that America?

Resources are scarce. The economy revolves on the continuous redistribution of wealth. But whose wealth, not the rich, they hang onto theirs. It's people like me who fuel the economy. I am the cordwood. We will all become the ashes of the free market if we don't get ours, too. Money, in all it's imaginary glory, sucks really big donkey dick.

We all want to be free, more to the point we want the things that don't give us happiness to be free. Health care is important, but boring. We want to travel, who needs dental coverage? Insurance is necessary, albeit imaginary as well and hard as hell to actually collect, but again, boring. We want nights out drinking and dancing, who needs supplimental life?

Life is a series of choices, and it is time that I made some concrete choices of my own. Right after I hit the liquor store.

2004-02-17T14:46:00.000-05:00

Triumph Over Canada

So, last night Conan O'Brien was in Toronto, and after a stirring footrace between the giant tower from Toronto and the giant tower from Seattle [in which the Torontonian tower won, with a bit of well-heeled [Oh, that was a bad pun.] help from an ersatz Mountie] Conan presented an interlude starring Triumph the Insult Comic Dog in Quebec. Well, Triumph is a bad dog as we all know. We also know that getting the Triumph treatment is a great honor, just ask Jennifer Lopez. And Triumph pulled no punches with his Quebecois victims. "Are you a separatist?" He asks a obese man. "Maybe you should try separating yourself from donuts for a while." He gives the streets their English names. Rue de la Glais is Ice Street, non? Although not all of the translations are faithful. And just for the record, Celine Dion does suck. Here's the story, I won't rehash that any further.

But I will rehash the fallout from the skit by presenting a couple of facts: Triumph is a plastic dog puppet, speaking French does not give you status as a "race" of people. That's a ethnic distinction, yes, but the French [and French Canadians, especially] are as white as the rest of the subjugating bastards that emigrated from Europe. And for a member of Parliament to decry the Conan show as "racist", on the floor of that august body, because they poked some fun at the pretentious idea that Quebecois think that they're better than, not only the rest of the hale and hearty populous of Canada, but pretty much everyone else, too. And to think, the reason that Canadians talk funny is half due to those self-righteous jerks. Just look at the pain that they've caused. I think this is all a plot to keep attention from Black History Month, or to stir up sentiment against Canada so that Bush43 can cement his "War President" stance with a nice invasion of the Great White North, Canadian Bacon style [See? Great White North. That's telling, isn't it?].

Here's a joke that a Canadian once told me. He's from Gwelph [Hi, Mike!] outside of Toronto:

3 Canadians; a guy from Calgary, a Newfoundlander, and a Quebecois stumble across a genie in a lamp. The genie grants each of them a wish, the wistful Newfoundlander asks for his family's tradtional fishing waters to teem with fish again. Granted. The haughty Quebecois wishes that there was an impenetrable wall, 50 feet high around Quebec, to keep the rabble out. Granted. The grizzled Calgarian checks with the Quebecois to make sure he heard right, "50 feet high? Nothing can get in or out?" Yes, the Quebecois answers.

The Calgarian turns to the genie, "Fill it with water".

Screw 'em they can't take a joke.

Godzilla

In 2004, Rialto Pictures is releasing the original, uncut, unedited, unAmericanized version of Godzilla. No Raymond Burr, no cuts from people getting stomped on. Unexpurgated, wondrous mega-smashing violence King of the Monsters style. Watch the trailer here.

Read American Gods

If you haven't already. I can't belive I put that off. What an amazing book.

2004-02-10T17:58:00.000-05:00

A Long Time Ago...

I started hoping for Star Wars on DVD. On September 21st, 2004, the journey to a galaxy far, far away takes another step forward. Oh yeah.

Now, if Lucas and associates can satisfy me with the extras. With more than 30 years of obsessive introspection, the goddamn bonus disc should have hours upon hours of mini-documentaries, featurettes, fan films, commercials for the fucking action figures, the Star Wars Christmas Special, etc. There is no excuse for poor extras. The Indiana Jones set was nice, but there was no commentary, Lucas has already specified that he will be providing commentary for all 3 films. I hope that he's not the only one. The other 2 directors should have time, the screenwriters, the fx guys, Dykstra, Johnston, and Christ, the actors, get the actors! Film historians, fanboys, everyone! And there should definitely be a score-only audio track. Only the most iconic score in movie history deserves that.

Oh, man. I am now about to burst something in anticipation. My clean jeans of earlier today aren't so clean anymore. 224 days to go...

2004-02-10T13:16:00.000-05:00

New Things

First of all, those Quizno's things do indeed hail from rathergood.com, thank you Jason! I will be humming "We Like the Moon" all day now. I removed the banner below, because it did look like an ad, and there's a better source for material now.

Second, I will be voting for Wesley Clark as soon as my jeans are out of the dryer. I'm always one for lost causes, and here's a good one. I respect the man's platform which includes planks regarding corporate graft, taxing business and the wealthy, and while he sees that we can not up and leave Iraq hanging, he wants us out of the business of "creating democracy" and onto the business of restoring our credibility in the international community. While he won't win, Kerry will, I find him the most appealing Democrat out there. That's interesting since he's a soldier [how I wish for the lost warrior-poets], and I despise violence and those military-industrial complex/trilateral commission types. Don't get me wrong, I'll vote for the candidate come November, but Kerry, with his passive pro-war voting, his ketchup and pickle campaign funding and his botox injections, is not my first choice. But I've gone over this already.

Hey, the dryer just buzzed! I'm off to perform my sacred duty. Oh, all you VA Republicans out there who are going to vote for LaRouche or Sharpton just to fuck up the polling--good for you.

2004-02-09T13:17:00.000-05:00

Things

Has anyone seen those new Quizno's Subs commercials? They are Flash ads, featuring these little creatures that resemble those famous kittens in style, but these are demented almagams of gerbils, tribbles and maybe some prehistoric rodent with really bad, English style teeth. They sing play guitar and stuff. Weird. A Quizno's opened near the big book box, and while I can say that the sandwiches are tasty, they put too much sauce on the damn things. The banner below is only to illustrate the strangeness of the ad campaign, this is not an endorsement.

Speaking of campaigning. The Virginia Primaries are tomorrow, and I'm still not sure who I'm going to support. Probably not Kerry or Edwards, though. I can't in good conscience vote for electable hypocrites who voted for Bush43's self-serving war in Iraq, regardless of what principles they use to explain it. They should have cared then as much as now. That means that I have Dean, Kucinich, Clark and LaRouche [Ha!] to choose from. I'll let you know. But whoever it is, the swell of voters who have turned out, not to support a candidate, but to register their discontent with Bush43, is phenominal. Internet voting, though? I'm not sure. That poses so many potential problems. Voter fraud, hacking in to change the votes, etc. It would have to be ultra-secure, like the Pentagon. And that means that the Federal Government would probably have to run it. And isn't that making the process vulnerable from another standpoint? I dunno. We'll see what they come up with. There's something to be said for making the effort, missing work, whatever to go to the polls.

Project Greenlight is now accepting screenplay submissions. It's on Bravo now, which may offer those pretty-boys some extra latitude. Can I write a thriller in 15 days, seeing as how I've never written a screenplay before. Naw. But I'll start prepping for next season.

Jason has abandoned J's Notes in favor of spending some money on a webhost and having a site to himself. Create a new button already! I can't stand losing graphics from my blog. His new site is slick and professional. Good luck on the new direction, J.

2004-02-07T11:55:00.000-05:00

Oh, Rapture!

1) MTV2 is having a Beavis & Butthead Marathon this morning!
2) I have finally seen Lost in Translation and it is magnificent. I actually think Bill Murray was better in Rushmore, but Scarlett Johanson is great. She's so understated, but you can see everything reflected in her eyes.
3) 6 days and counting until Valentine's Day. Who's miserable out there?
4) Oh, the final and last Left Behind novel Glorious Appearing, is due in about 3 weeks time. That this ridiculous saga is finally ending is the good part. it's been petering out over the last 3 books. And especially here in Fred-neck, it doesn't sell well in hardcover anyway. "$23 dollars for a book?! Who the hell wants to spend $23 dollars on a book? Ain't it out in paperback?" I guess all that tithing really gets in the way of self-improvement [except for the tattoos].

2004-02-03T18:40:00.000-05:00

Question of the Day

Is risin like retsin? Is it 2 mints in one?

[Essential Media updated]

A young woman who used to work for me in the big book box cafe is now in Parguay after joining the Peace Corps. She'll be chronicling her time there at http://jennasparaguayadventure.blogspot.com. Check it out.

2004-02-02T13:24:00.000-05:00

Essential media update tomorrow. God damn, I love this album by the Darkness!

2004-02-02T13:07:00.000-05:00

Super Size Me

photo courtesy of New York Post Online

A filmmaker, desperate for ideas [honestly, after The Lord of the Rings trilogy is there anything left for filmmakers to do?] put his life in the hands of the Golden Arches for 30 days and quickly found that tasting bad is only the beginning. He ate 3 meals a day at McDonalds and finshed with an extra 25 pounds, a toxic liver, bad knees, and 230 cholesterol.

Morgan Spurlock filmed his experiment and the shocking results and is shopping the finished product around for distribution. This could be the film equivalent of Eric Schlosser's Fast Food Nation, which I haven't mentioned in several months. And that could be the reason that I find myself having cravings for a Quarter Pounder w/ cheese when I drive by the Micky D's near the big book box. Bastards.

On top of my continuing emnity for fast food, and the American mad cow scare [which does scare me], the killer avian flu of Southeast Asia now has me panicked about eating any poultry at all. The possiblity of a pandemic is growing. The flu has begun to spread to China, and possibly Germany via a traveller. What's a righteous carnivore to do? I'll tell you what. Start spending more on organic meats raised naturally and cruelty-free, and humanely slaughtered. That's it. $20/lb. for chicken, only $5/lb. for beef. I'll order it online, or find a local butcher who deals in locally-grown livestock. Or maybe I'll stop eating meat for a while. I think my colon could use that anyway.

2004-02-02T12:54:00.000-05:00

Politics

So tomorrow is SuperTuesday, right? I may be confused on that. I'm sure that Jason or someone will correct me if I am. And a few days ago, a co-worker, Jason's just-as-politically-obsessed brother, Art, asked me: "So, who are you leaning toward?"

I couldn't tell him definitively, I mentioned Clark, I think, but after this week will anyone but Kerry be viable? I should have said to my Republican friend, "Anyone but Bush." But frankly, that's too pat an answer. The Democratic field has been called The [9, now Seven] Dwarves. That may be a conservative's idea of an insult, but it is somewhat apt. These people present no strong persona, no stron idea, no strength of conviction other than "We're better than Bush!" Which is true, for fuck's sake, but should that be the platform? Al Sharpton is a personality, Dennis Kucinich [sp?] has good ideas, John Edward has the charisma, John Kerry has the experience and the sympathy vote, Howard Dean has the enthusisam [and I know this is rather late, but his outburst in Iowa was actually pretty great, I haven't seen a politician with that sort of energy since Teddy Roosevelt, hah!], Wesley Clark has the dignity, and who's left? Oh, I forget. Who cares?

Look, Bush is making a mess of the Presidency and the country as a whole. Even Nixon and Clinton only hurt themselves and their administrations, this guy is fucking up our standing in the world and my wallet! Tax cuts be damned! Where's the economy going? I finally have money to maybe invest, and there's nowhere to put it that's safe! Every sector is losing jobs, missing goals, the winners are few and far between. But, working in retail, I see that there are thousands of people out there with money to spend, of course half of those fine citizens don't know that there aren't Cliffs Notes for the Hobbit, but there you go. Where are they spending it? At Wal-Mart, on toilet paper and cheap lawn furniture. At Costco, on giant tubs of pretzels and margarine. At my store, on piles of books about more interesting times in American history, purpose-driven lives, and substandard thrillers.

Bush43 is losing face faster than Jerry Ford on the tarmac. Colin Powell was sold out in front of the UN by spooks that Bush should have had in his hip pocket. And he probably did. Those photos were old or fake, I believe I said this at the time. The evidence was false, the war is a sham, and now ol' W, whose daddy built the modern CIA, wants to know the facts?! Bullshit, he's spinning. Sponsor those probing panels, George! Bring it on. I have an awful feeling that he'll do just enough damage control, and the Democrats [no matter who] will do just too little damage, and we're in for 4 more years of bad grammar and blank stares from our man, the leader of the free world. The Virginia primary is just weeks away. I'll decide by then.

Ahh...Incoherence

Allow me to distill the previous post and add a few things that need saying. I enjoyed myself last night. I needed that. A good football game, good food [I cannot emphasize enough how much I love devilled eggs!] and fun, fun, fun! I didn't drink enough beer though, it was really a night for something American that "goes down easy" Rolling Rock, maybe. I really should mention some of the commercials that I passed over last night, so here goes:

1) The wash-you-mouth-out-cool Chevy convertible sport truck spot. Understated, yet effective. Great looking vehicle. Nice work.

2) Monster.com's synchronious applicant and interviewer. Great song, great editing. Very hip, but not as catchy as Monster's previous efforts.

3) Bud Light's crotch-chewing dog. While funny once, I think this is too similar to the Coors commercials of the mid-80's with the dog who got the beer from the fridge.

4) I forgot a movie spot! Horrors! Miracle, the story of the 1980 USA gold-medal hockey team. While that run allowed Al Michaels to become a true pompous ass, it was one of the most insipring sports stories ever, and it appears that Kurt Russell has got Herb Brooks nailed.

5) "Rocket sled." Hee hee hee. Still making me laugh.

More on Janet and Justin: After seeing it again this morning, if that wasn't what was supposed to happen, why did they design a tear away cup for Janet's bustier, and why does she look so confident while she's exposed. Granted, she covers up as they exit the Thunderdome set or whatever that was. Droog dancers, Mad Max set, and then Justin in some couture outfit that the subject of Queer Eye would be wearing to the after party? Incongruous and untrustworthy. Have I mentioned that one good act, of any kind [call me crazy, but Willie Nelson and ZZ Top spring to mind in Texas, but I suppose that doesn't do much for the brothers], singing 2 full songs would be better than any halftime entertainment that has been thought up since they told the marching bands to march away? Well, it would. OR, even more shocking, maybe just a 20-minute halftime with 10 minutes for commentary from the sports guys, then just a NFL season retrospective, stirringly narrated and stunningly photograhed? I have never really understood the need for pyrotechnics and star power during a Super Bowl halftime. At this point it's a tradition of cheesiness that just needs to go away.

Oh, I can't believe that I left this out of last night's post-- If I ever, EVER, EVER see Josh-fucking-Groban associated with the NFL again, I will never watch another game. That was traumatizing, folks. I ran from the room. No shit.

2004-02-02T01:00:00.000-05:00

What A Super Super Bowl!

For a few minutes, I thought the game was going to really weigh on the heavy side of the evening's entertainment. Then the play picked up and started distracting me from the commercials and the far-too production heavy pregame and halftime shows. Congratulations, New England. The region, not the team. They don't need congratulations, they're pros and they should have been expecting to win. Good for them. Now, on with the good stuff.

Pre-game: I got home late enough to only see the last 1/2 hour of prep and pomp. I gotta say, getting the teams on the field only to have them wait 15 more minutes for the start of the game was a bit much. Football players live on adrenalin, these guys must have been ready to kill their teammates and themselves by the time Beyonce strutted out for the anthem. Aerosmith was pretty good, live even! But the contrived "audience" and the silly astronaut-themed into to their truncated set was too much. Honoring the lost crew of the Columbia was unecessarily maudlin, having the next flight crew present the colors would have been great and understated. Beyonce sure can sing, but she was a bit too flouncy and pre-possesed to match Whitney Houston's anthem in 1990. Whitney was in a track suit, Beyonce was in--well, it would be snappier if I could reel off a designer's name here, but I can't. I don't watch Sex in the City enough, I suppose. And what's with not introducing the players, just having the teams en masse book onto the field? Not really a great idea. I hadn't seen the Panthers play this year. I don't know 4/5 of the team, that would have been nice.

1st Half Commercials: The new Ford GT looks very fast, but is a production car or a race car? And does it really have toggle switches on the dash a la Thunderbirds [the lame kids marionette show, not the car], or was that vintage? The Pepsi bears were amusing. Ahh, the movie commercials: VanHelsing, Troy, Hildago, Secret Window, Alamo. Jackman, Pitt, Bloom, Depp, Thornton. All the men of summer. The donkey auditioning for the Budweiser Clydesdales was cute. But the best was the farting horse. That was pretty damn tasteless. "Do you smell barbecue", indeed. The 2nd punch line was even funnier, the other couple out walking in the woods stops to watch the girlfriend get scorched, and guy 2 says, "Ooo, they have a rocket sled." Now that's funny! And frankly, the rest of the commercials got drowned out by the exciting end to the half. So there, $1.7 million ads! That's how effective you were!

Halftime: P. Diddy and Nelly, what a waste of a good time. Kid Rock. Tired, man, tired. And Janet Jackson. Hmm...Will Janet's next album be a sequel to Rythym Nation? And will Justin Timberlake be on it or on her, or on the moon with Aerosmith? And the question that everyone will be asking tomorrow... was that white boy supposed to tear off Janet's top? Did Janet just show us her boobie? Was that supposed to happen [cause it looked pretty smooth], then have it's intentionality denied, all the while working the genius marketing making Janet into even more of a sex object, while distracting from her brother's trial? And are CBS and the NFL playing along, or were they genuinely shocked by Janet's lack of pasties, and will their statements of "MTV will never produce a half-time show again!" stand up in court? And most of all, does that go for MTV as well? Viacom owns CBS, Viacom owns MTV, you do the math.

2nd Half Commercials: Oh, apparently a naked fan ran out on the field before kick-off, the network didn't show it of course, this guy didn't have a record company to subsidize the lawsuits. But the not-horrible Greg Gumbel and Phil Simms alluded to the incident, that was enough. But I miss John Madden. Too many fucking Survivor promos! And too many Cadillac spots. Overall, grade b for boring. Again, when the football is actually good, who gives a shit about advertisements? The spots were less overtly sexual than last year's and that's a good thing. There were, however, many many erectile dysfunction ads. One of which actually stated in the disclaimer "Erections longer than 4 hours, which are rare, require immediate [something]" I missed the something, because my father, who wasn't paying attention because the commercial didn't have a farting horse, interrupted at that point. Was it treatment? A door briskly slammed on it? What?!

Post-Game: What's with not giving the MVP the MVP trophy after the game. Tom Brady has to wait until Monday? That sucks! Jim Nance is a stick and Deion Sanders is a pimp. I don't think Adam Viniteri considers himself a member of the team. He's in need of some therapy. Poor guy.

I like Guiness' new ads for St. Patrick's Day. But they were absent from the big game. Too pricey, I suppose. "Treat St. Patrick's Day like a real holiday." Now, that's a tagline.

2004-01-27T20:57:00.000-05:00

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar

Chew on these for 48 hours. I'll get back to you then. My picks are marked with a *, picks in which I was torn, but made a tough decision get ** and the runner-up gets *.

BEST PICTURE
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING*
LOST IN TRANSLATION
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
MYSTIC RIVER
SEABISCUIT

DIRECTING
Fernando Meirelles- CITY OF GOD [Who? What? Has anyone seen this? It'll probably win.]
Peter Jackson- THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING*** [3 stars for 3 movies-1 award]
Sofia Coppola- LOST IN TRANSLATION
Peter Wier- MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
Clint Eastwood- MYSTIC RIVER

[Just so you know, the Academy didn't specify the director's names, I had to add those. In fact, the only people they recognized by name were the actors. That's some bullshit, man! If I had more time right now, I'd find all the names of every nominee and list them! Pretentious bastards.]

WRITING (ADAPTED SCREENPLAY)
AMERICAN SPLENDOR* [The best adaptation yet of a graphic novel to screen.]
CITY OF GOD
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING [While a great challenge, there were gaps.]
MYSTIC RIVER
SEABISCUIT

WRITING (ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY)
THE BARBARIAN INVASIONS
DIRTY PRETTY THINGS
FINDING NEMO
IN AMERICA
LOST IN TRANSLATION*

ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE
Johnny Depp - PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL* [Johnny would have been my vote if not for Bill's nomination.]
Ben Kingsley - HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG
Jude Law - COLD MOUNTAIN
Bill Murray - LOST IN TRANSLATION** [Give the man his statue!]
Sean Penn - MYSTIC RIVER [Don't go to the show, Sean!]

ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE
Keisha Castle-Hughes - WHALE RIDER [Who, Keisha Knight-Pulliam, little Rudy from Cosby? Isn't she on Celebrity Mole?]
Diane Keaton - SOMETHING'S GOTTA GIVE
Samantha Morton - IN AMERICA
Charlize Theron - MONSTER* [Making out with Christina Ricci would make up for the makeup.]
Naomi Watts - 21 GRAMS

ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Alec Baldwin - THE COOLER
Benicio Del Toro - 21 GRAMS
Djimon Hounsou - IN AMERICA
Tim Robbins - MYSTIC RIVER
Ken Watanabe - THE LAST SAMURAI* [Christ, if he held his own with Tommy Cruise, he's got my vote.]

ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Shohreh Aghdashloo - HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG* [Just because.]
Patricia Clarkson - PIECES OF APRIL
Marcia Gay Harden - MYSTIC RIVER
Holly Hunter - THIRTEEN
Ren?e Zellweger - COLD MOUNTAIN

ANIMATED FEATURE FILM
BROTHER BEAR
FINDING NEMO*
THE TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE [I only saw the trailer, but it looked pretty cool, but French in a non-French kinda year, poor frogs.]

ART DIRECTION
GIRL WITH A PEARL EARRING
THE LAST SAMURAI
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING* [The strongest effort ever, period.]
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
SEABISCUIT

FILM EDITING
CITY OF GOD
COLD MOUNTAIN
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
SEABISCUIT* [A masterpiece of pacing, completely effective. Hell, it made me cry!]

CINEMATOGRAPHY
CITY OF GOD
COLD MOUNTAIN
GIRL WITH A PEARL EARRING
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD* [Shooting an entire movie afloat? Worth it.]
SEABISCUIT

COSTUME DESIGN
GIRL WITH A PEARL EARRING
THE LAST SAMURAI
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING*
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
SEABISCUIT

MAKEUP
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING*
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL [Too--how shall I say--Disney.]

SOUND
THE LAST SAMURAI
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING*
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL
SEABISCUIT

SOUND EDITING
FINDING NEMO
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL*

VISUAL EFFECTS
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING* [Please, is there any doubt?]
MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL

MUSIC (SCORE)
BIG FISH
COLD MOUNTAIN
FINDING NEMO
HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING* [I only own 3 scores, the Star Wars trilogy, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and this trilogy. That's how good it is.]

MUSIC (SONG)
"Into the West" - THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING
"A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow" - A MIGHTY WIND** [Should win, but won't. Too funny.]
"Scarlet Tide" - COLD MOUNTAIN
"The Triplets of Belleville" - THE TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE* [If it's the song playing in the trailer, it gets my vote.]
"You Will Be My Ain True Love" - COLD MOUNTAIN

DOCUMENTARY FEATURE
BALSEROS
CAPTURING THE FRIEDMANS
THE FOG OF WAR* [Errol Morris is a goddamn genius, and if just one person in the Bush White House would see this... Man.]
MY ARCHITECT
THE WEATHER UNDERGROUND

DOCUMENTARY SHORT SUBJECT
ASYLUM
CHERNOBYL HEART [The mutated radioactive commie heart of a meltdown survivor goes on a killing spree! Grade-A B-movie schlock!]*
FERRY TALES

FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM
THE BARBARIAN INVASIONS
EVIL [The bio-pic we've all been waiting for.]
THE TWILIGHT SAMURAI* [Anything with samurai, even if it's only in the title]
TWIN SISTERS
VELARY

SHORT FILM (ANIMATED)
BOUNDIN'
DESTINO
GONE NUTTY [Funny.]
HARVIE KRUMPET* [Funnier.]
NIBBLES

SHORT FILM (LIVE ACTION)
DIE ROTE JACKE (The Red Jacket) [Ahh, a German blaxploitation comedy about valet parking. How can it lose--What?! It's not? Damn.]
MOST (The Bridge)
SQUASH
(A) TORZIJA ([A] Torsion) [Is this the film that inspired Torque? If Ice Cube liked it, so do I.]
TWO SOLDIERS

And, now for the award that doesn't exist, but should:
BEST SPECIAL PERFORMANCE
Ellen DeGeneres- FINDING NEMO*
Andy Serkis- LORD OF THE RINGS: RETURN OF THE KING**
The 20 horses that played Seabiscuit- SEABISCUIT
Johnny Depp- ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO**
Tokyo- LOST IN TRANSLATION
[A tie! And in it's inaugural year! What a shocker!]

2004-01-23T22:32:00.000-05:00

New, Cool, and Overdue

2004-01-21T13:21:00.000-05:00

Manipulation

So, the State of the Union, huh? I missed it, having been out at a good restaurant having a nice meal. Tuna Vesuvio, if you must know. And the place had freshly-made dolmades [stuffed grape leaves] I love those damn things. I was turned off from the big speech earlier in the day when I heard that the event had been classified a top level security risk or some such damn fool crap. That announcement revealed to me that, barring something near-miraculous, Bush43 will be president for another 4 years.

The reason is simply this: he can play the victim. He can manipulate law enforcement and the military to mold himself into a target, under threat of death. As the president, he is constantly in jeopardy from terrorist incursion or assassination. Duh, we already knew that, but now he's under double-secret threat of death?! Mr. Blutarsky, you have no grade point average.

That's complete bullshit, of course, but the American people are naive enough to buy that propaganda, so let it fly. It makes ol' W seem all the stronger when you can raise the alert level to orange and let it leak that: "We think tonight is dangerous, we've got gunships or missile launchers or some other impressive bit of hardware that reminds us that we have a military dictatorship in office right now, not a democratically elected representative of the people.

Which begs a point of semantics. George W. Bush is representative of only one thing, greed. In the new book, American Dynasty, the Bush family is revealed for what it is and has been since the early part of the century, extremely effective hangers-on. Parasites that feed on the power and wealth of their acquaintences and in-laws. Ridiculously capitalist and horribly opportunistic. But enough, the unbalanced Howard Dean has been unveiled in Iowa, leading to a more effective candidate's chances to take the White House back for the people. Kerry has always seemed principled and decent, and Edwards is too Southern for me, too moderate, too--what--Baptist, maybe. The biggest thing is, they both voted to wage an unjustified and illegal "war" in Iraq. But I'm still undecided. Michael Moore has endorsed Wesley Clark. And in the missive I read, the points he makes in support seem solid and effective. I'm a sucker for a good argument. But still in all, I'm sick of settling for the best Democrat and being stuck with these stiffs who are barely left of center, if even, and boring to boot. I'm not a Moore acolyte, just a fan, so while I'll listen, until George Lucas announces his support, we'll have to see, there's a long road ahead.

More on politics, but in a vein that I really do care about. Space. Bush43 [his sci-fi name] has proposed that we start planning a moon base [Alpha?] and manned missions to Mars. Does he even know where Mars is? On Bill Mahers show, a congressman admitted that most folks in Washington don't even read the papers, they have clipping services provide synopses of the stories to these important and woefully uninformed people. Details are the diamonds, the story is the ore. I suppose they have another service to pick out the gems of information or pertinent statistics, right?

During his speech relating to space exploration, the prez threw around some heavy words. Robots, shuttles, space stations, etc. Kennedy he ain't. "We shall go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard." Bush was probably just trying to get the engineer/tech sector/trekkie vote. And now on to the meat of this post. Movies.

Particularly sci-fi movies. I love 'em! Even more than sci-fi novels anymore. Those damn writers could do with a lesson in brevity. Whew! I just finished watching the extras on the Alien Quadrilogy. Wow. What a box set. And it's brought this to mind. How do all the guys who sweat and bleed to make a movie look incredible feel when some hack screws up the script, the casting, the direction, etc. so that their efforts not only get overlooked, but laughed at.

It's those efforts that make the Lord of the Rings trilogy the masterpiece that it is. And the skill with which Peter Jackson pulled together that project had better win him and the film an Oscar or two. I was forced to watch the Oscars last year, and was further reminded why I hate awards shows, so I won't be watching this year, but these are the top 10 contenders in the Best Picture category as I see it [even though I've seen maybe 2 of these]:

Return of the King [but this would really be a win for the trilogy]
Cold Mountain
Mystic River
Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World
Finding Nemo
...and some others that I can't remember, 'cause they were too damn boring.

Here's a movie that wasn't boring. BUBBA HO-TEP!! Fantastic! Funny, funny, funny, cheesy, cheesy, cheesy, Brucie, Brucie, Ozzie, Ozzie. The best screen partnership since Matthau and Lemmon, folks! Man, was that great! It was everything that I thought it would be, especially computer-graphics-free. Cheap, poor mechanical effects, and a completely illogical plot, that's definitely the way to go. Low tech, high concept. Yeah.

I will not only buy that movie for myself, I will buy it for anyone who asks for it regardless of occasion. The idea of an elderly, convalescent Elvis being slathered with ointment for the growth on his pecker right before fighting off a giant scarab beetle was too much. "I was gyratin', takin' care a business." "I'm thinking with sand here!" Haw! Haw haw! I can't even write anymore, I'm giggling too hard. Oh, and the Landmark E Street Theater in DC is pretty nice. Best concession stand ever.

2004-01-03T13:50:00.000-05:00

Happy Same-old Same-old

It seems that in Fredericksburg, the holidays don't want to end this year. At the big book box, our business is still at pre-Christmas levels and frankly it's getting very frustrating. I can't staff for it, the staff I do have is getting pretty fucking pissed off, and the customers won't go away! And dammit, we need them to, we need a break, we need normality to return, and I need to be able to do other things than listen to another customer say, "You mean I have to stand in that line?"

Yes, you do, you stupid...

But that's not the point. I went out this New Year's to a small pub with my brother, who was in town, to hear a combo that one of my co-workers plays in. Or did play in. Frankly, if he was in a band with me [I play slide whistle and a mean table drum] I would have been a kicking-horn-player's ass-to-the-curb kinda mood that night. 10 Captain and Cokes and passing out with your sax in your lap is not professional, even on New Year's. Anyway, the music was good with and without him.

Here's to a last year of Bush43, the President not Jason's comic of the same name. That boy better get ready to start paying me for use of the name, like William S. Burroughs [or the estate therof] gets paid for the rights to Blade Runner. A completely unrelated use of a cool name that was licenced for a unassociated product. You hear, me J?

Here's to a last year of Orange Alerts, Mad Cow Disease, Dr. Atkins, low carb beer, bad sequels, Justin Timberlake, Jenn & Ben, Rich Girls, Joe Millionaire, Michael Jackson, Blink-182, Chingy, and Snoop Dogg as legit pitchman. Let's say good-bye to them, shall we?

Happy New Year, folks!

2003-12-30T12:12:00.000-05:00

Since it's been nearly a month since my last post, and--shit!--at least 2 months since my last post that was actually entertaining not to mention good, I think I'll try to make up for it with a pithy paragraph or two. Here goes. I hope I can remember how to type...

The Birthday Boy

Christ has been around now for 2003 years, and he's sill going strong in the popular consciousness. I'd like to see where the memory of Elvis is after that long. Actually, that's a bad example, Elvis will be canonized at some point by a Catholic Church looking to bolster membership and increase it's collectible market. Let's see...how about Michael Jackson?

There we go...The King of Pop. In his interview on 60 Minutes on Sunday, ol' One-Glove [now we know that the glove was there to allow him to grasp properly, the lube had made his palm completely frictionless] continued to contend that young boys sleeping in bed with a 44-year old man was "completely fine" and that he loves children because children are his image of the "face of God". Well, folks, he doesn't ever seem to be seen loving female children--except during photo ops--and let's get back to my primary subject--I don't think Jesus himself would have thought that sleeping alongside a pre-teen boy would be "fine" unless it was to keep warm during a long winter's night in Caanan, and that probably would have entailed the boy, the boy's entire family including the winsome cousin whose cold hands kept finding their way into the Messiah's robes. Uh, but I digress.

Jesus Christ was a historic personage, even I can accept this, though I do not belive his divinity or his pedigree. The second most popular novel published this year, Dan Brown's The DaVinci Code brings to the popular conscious the idea that the Catholic Church's portrayal of the Son of Yahweh is not what actually was, and that there is evidence to support that the truth is out there. After Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, The DaVinci Code is the most asked for, most talked about, and the bestselling book of the year. In the big book box business, I have had to direct dozens of people, who--once they had read this mediocre thriller with big ideas--absolutely had to find the source material, so we have not been able to keep anything gnostic, apocryphic, or anything relating to the undoing of the popular myths of Christ in stock. Pagel's Beyond Belief, Holy Blood, Holy Grail and The Woman in the Alabaster Jar have been especially popular. I have heard with my own ears customers purporting to be good, lifelong Catholics doubting their church and their faith because of a mystery novel with zero well-fleshed characters, no real sympathetic lead, and a preposterous opening scene that will be perfect when the movie is made. I see credits like "Se7en" but not set to Nine Inch Nails [although that would be appropriate] but to monks chanting over a pulsing beat that ebbs away as F. Murray Abraham as the fated curator concludes his role with glassy eyes finally collapsing in closeup to a marbled floor veined in the character's blood. But again, I digress...

The Christmas season was designed to exploit. First the Catholics [maybe I should say Romans] moved Christ's birthday up a few months to coincide with the winter solstice thereby saying to the pagans, "Hey, we celebrate at this time of year, too. Let me tell you about our Lord and Savior..." Then, some time in the late 1700's greedy merchants took a nice idea of giving sweets or a much needed pair of gloves on Christmas and turned it into a massive contrivance, with some help from the well-meaning, but mis-used Mr. Dickens and the well-paid corporate stooge Mr. Nash into a tinsel-wrapped, world-wide frenzy of disgust, impatience and ugliness that we are all forced to contend with. I will say, however, that this was the least obnoxious holiday season at the ol' retail homestead. The past 3 days have been a pain in the ass, but with returns and exchanges, that's to be expected.

I hope that all of you have a safe and completely drunk off your ass New Year. But if somewhere, someone starts playing that shitty Dan Folgeberg song about the rain and the taxi and Auld Lang Syne, crack your champagne flute on the tabletop and shove it their eye socket. Peace.

2003-12-09T20:35:00.000-05:00

Battlestar Galacticrap, Revised

This is a Cylon...

The hot blonde chick is not.

No, she's an attempt to titillate while keeping the effects budget under control. The new series will be entertaining, but a pale shadow of the original. Hollywood dumbed it down for us again, folks! No longer do we have the interesting Zodiac-based belief system or the out-of-the-ordinary names like Apollo [hey didn't some guy named Apollo just win a crapload of medals at the Olympics?] I don't care about the casting, I don't care about the new ship designs, I don't care that Mary McDonald will never stay on a hour drama on cable. I care that the cool things about the original series are being swept aside because that writers say that it wasn't believable enough. What? This is sci-fi TV, there's never been anything believable about any of it! It's a fantasy. Let it alone.

2003-12-06T20:49:00.000-05:00

Turkey-Less Day

I know this is a little late, but it's good so bear with me.

Several weeks before Thanksgiving, about Hallowe'en as a matter of fact, my family began the arduous task of deciding where Thanksgiving would be held. The default location is always my mother's house, no matter where that may be this year. However, after only 2 or 3 phone calls, I was delivered the surprising news that my brother, the chef, wanted to host Thanksgiving! My immediate thought was, "Oh, Jesus. His girlfriend put him up to this, he doesn't really want to. This is never gonna happen."

Well, I was wrong, not only was my brother excited, it was all that carried him through his first month of jobless bliss. He had quit his gig on November 8th due to creative and managerial differences at his restaurant but was due piles of vacation time, so he took that [he'll finally be done with his vacation on the 8th of January, lucky him. Well maybe 'lucky' is too strong. He's never been the best at entertaining himself without football on TV, so he's been more of a couch potato than anything else]. This was great news, not only can the man cook, but he's an avowed carnivore and his girlfriend is allergic to soy, so the vegans were going to be on the fringe this Thanksgiving. I mean he was going to accommodate them [I believe the mashed potatoes were going to be vegan] but there was not going to be any Tofurkey or other pseudo-crap, and he would brook no offers to prepare food other than desserts. I was really looking forward to this occasion. It was a step toward adulthood to a man reaching 30 who had shown no intent of doing so outside of his professional life. This was monumentous.

The preparations began with a feminine touch at the house that he and his girlfriend share with my other brother. There were slipcovers and flatware. The holiday feeling grew and was made good. Time passed, my mouth started watering about the 12th of November. Then, on the Sunday preceding Thanksgiving, 4 days before the meal of the year amongst a family that had made great strides in the 12 months since last year's surreal events, disaster struck.

I had been working, I was tired. I came home to a warm house and a beer, but before I could drop my keys in the side table dish where my keys live next to my wallet, my cell phone and my lighter, my father hit me with this news, delivered in the most resigned and settled tone. "Thanksgiving's off."

"What?"
"Cancelled. Off."
"Thanksgiving? Why?!"
"I don't know, your sister just called to tell us."
"Goddammit! What the fuck?!"
"I don't know, I was about to call and find out."

Here's where the story gets cloudy. The younger twin had called my sister, who called my mother then my father to tell us that dinner was off. But, and here's the biggest point, no one had spoken to the brother who was planning the meal. And by the time I heard the story, I was so angry and tired that I could have cared less to speak to him. I assumed that this was another immature, passive/aggressive move because the Redskins were losing or something. Then I realized that the Redskins played the Sunday night game, so it couldn't be that. So I assumed that this was a way for him to get back at his girlfriend, whose idea this must have been in the first place, because this just seemed so unlike him. They were fighting about something stupid, I was sure, and he blurted out, "Oh and just to fuck with you, there's no way that I'm going to cook dinner to share with my family!" I just wanted to put it out of my mind and get some sleep to prepare for a 6-day week that led up to the most important date in retail, Black Friday. I repressed my feelings of loss and disappointment and stayed up until 1 am, drinking scotch.

Monday I worked 12 hours, noon to midnight. Tuesday was my day off, but I had to go in to hold interviews. I was home around 7pm but then I went to the grocery store with my Dad to see what we might cook for ourselves instead of juicy succulent turkey and savory stuffing. The phone rings at some point. It's my brother, the asshole, the absolute bastard. "What's all this shit about you guys not coming on Thanksgiving? I was just about to go to the store."

"What do you mean? Are you saying that it was never off?"
"Well, no one called me!"
"That's because we were all pissed off! Did we get wrong information, were we lied to?"
Silence.
"So you're going to go out and buy all the groceries now? I just got back from the store, they're out of fucking onions, man!"
Silence.
"What happened? Did you cancel Thanksgiving or not?"
"I may have been sitting on the couch and said something negative."
Something negative?! "Really, like what?"
Silence.
"Well, just forget it man, 'cause I don't want to spend my Thanksgiving gathered around with a bunch of bitter family members full of recrimination and ready to spew vitriol at the drop of the first non-vegan gravy. No way, if it wasn't cancelled then, it is now. I have to work 60 hours this week, minimum and I'm not going to spend my only day off battling with everyone!"
Silence.
"But Dad and I are fixing something--not traditional stuff, because that all takes too long--so if you want we'd love to have you down here."
I am nothing if not gracious.

"Yeah, that sounds good. We'll be down." Finally, a utterance, a response! And in an apologetic tone, too! The conversation lasted no longer than my earnest "I love you, man. See you Thursday."

And the response, "Love you, too."

My mother called soon after. We talked about the whole situation. My frustration boiled over. I squeezed out a few tears.

Thanksgiving dinner was a nice pork roast rubbed with masala spices and garlic accompanied by mashed root vegetables [turnips, parsnips, rutabagas] tasty, but the aftereffects were, how shall I say--atmospheric. The green dish was broiled leeks with shittake mushrooms. There was cornbread and sweet potatoes, but we forgot to get shortening, so my Dad experimented with another non-butter substitute in the pie crust, the experiment was a failure. We began cooking about 9am, dinner was served at 3. We had no guests. Until nearly 5 when my brother and his girlfriend finally showed. We enjoyed some family time, we didn't speak of this incident and at 8pm they went home. Happy Thanksgiving.

Frankly, there's more to the story, but I'm tired of it. It's too far in the past to be truly relevant, but my anger is rising once again. I'll end on this note. Black Friday was a non-story. We had plenty of employees to cover the brisk but not overwhelming sales. I worked just under 60 hours, and collapsed last Sunday night to sleep for nearly 11 hours...Still farting from the parsnips, which were really delicious, but only the first time around.

2003-11-20T23:49:00.000-05:00

Para-analysis [or: Please Discontinue Reading if Operating Heavy Machinery]

So, I'm sitting up an additional half hour waiting for my Tagamet to kick in. Tonight I'm going to need it to sleep through until my alarm wakes me up. I haven't been posting because I haven't needed the one extra iota of pressure in my life. Yeah, there's pressure involved in this seemingly mastubatory exercise. I have regular readers who must be frustrated with my lack of blogging! But that's specious logic. It would stand to reason as easily if the pressure stems from not blogging. Disappointment on the behalf of the few banzai fans out there is one reason that I would continue blogging, not the other way 'round.

Over at J's Notes, Jason is participating in a writing challenge with a silly multi-syllabic name [like chatauqua, but not] that I can't remember right now. Write a 50,000 word novel in a month. I think he's close. Good, good for him. The one written work that I have in progress hasn't been touched in more than 3 months. The distraction would be good for me, but I insist on watching DVDs and sleeping too much instead. I think I've been depressed, which isn't odd, just for the longest time, I had much else to do. These days I can find myself quaking in a fit of anxiety before I head to work, then being so worn out from fighting that, that I come home and just want to sleep. There's actual, physical effects from the panic, besides the scald burns from huddling in a fetal position in the shower for 30 minutes just working up the courage to step out and take that next step toward the door. My vacation helped a bit. It allowed me some perspective, and some rejuvenating time away from my own environment. I drove a thousand miles to a city I had never seen, and enjoyed that time. It could have been better, I had goals in mind regarding that trip. Those goals weren't realized, and in fact some of my depression stems from the fact that my trip was involved in crystallizing another failure in my life. But the food and the distance really did help me in the long run. And the closure [what a stupid word] that I was treated to certainly was healthy, just not what I wished for. Such is life.

So I was promoted a few months ago. I think I remember posting about that. I thought that I could handle the new stresses with no problem. Wrong. There seems to be a self-imposed hammer that comes down at least once a week. I keep getting positive feedback from my boss and my co-workers, but it doesn't help. Where does this pressure come from? It stems from an ancient fear of mine, fear of failure. I was so self-conscious and introverted for so long because of that fear. I used to stare at my feet while I walked as if to assure myself that I wasn't going to trip myself up. That's creeping back into my mind. The holidays are coming up and there are bills to pay and more bills to incur. This is going to be an interesting Thanksgiving and beyond. Do you remember last year's Thanksgiving? This one won't be as surreal, but it should be memorable. I'll post something more fun on Saturday, after work. Fuck.

2003-10-29T12:06:00.000-05:00

NEW! Essential Media Update!

I spend a lot of time on finding new and interesting things. It taxes my blogging acumen and my patience as a human being to the extreme. The least you bastards could do is pay attention. Thanks.

[Just so you know, the Dr. Suess DVD is there not only because everything Suess is hot again with the mediocre Cat In The Hat movie coming out, but because it contains Halloween Night is Grinch Night. Perhaps the 2nd most disturbing thing I've ever watched.]

2003-10-27T23:27:00.000-05:00

Streetcore: Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros

This triumphant last album was released last Tuesday. Why doesn't my corporate book [and music] box have our copies in yet?

2003-10-27T23:13:00.000-05:00

Hallowe'en

If one more person asks what I'm going to be for Hallowe'en, then objects to my answer of, "Me. On vacation." I don't know what I might do.

2003-10-27T23:08:00.000-05:00

American Zen

A professor stood at the front of a lecture hall as the students filed in. When the class began, he wordlessly began to produce some items from his satchel. He picked up a very large and very empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favorite passions-- things that
if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else--the small stuff."

If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. So pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal."

"Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented.

The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers."

Another student asked, but why a mayonnaise jar?

The professor answered, "Because I fucking enjoy mayonnaise! Is that OK with you, dipshit? Jesus! If you must know, there was a party and we--that's the wife and I--took potato salad. Did you think that I sucked this gallon of whipped eggy goodness down with a straw? Fuck me! You spoiled little assholes! I'm tenured, I deserve your respect! I give you a profound life lesson and all I get is your judgemental crap because at my house we eat mayonnaise?! I knew it! I asked that bitch to soak the label off! I knew she'd screw this up, her and her mayonnaise. She screws everything up! My lessons, my meals, my LIFE! Goddamn bitch!"

The professor left the lecture under heavy sedation.

2003-10-27T22:39:00.000-05:00

Koanhead

"If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him."
I first encountered this koan in a comic book, I didn't know any better at the time. For all I knew, this was an original thought. I was impressed. The teaching riddle does not mean that you are to literally kill anyone, much less the Buddha. It is to mean many things to many people, thus its mystery remains and grows. To me it means, if your goal is suddenly in front of you, you will realize that you need to eliminate goals in order to truly acheive. That may be complete bullshit. The koan may also mean that the Buddha is yourself, and if you begin seeing yourself as such, to strike that thought from your mind. It is with that thought, that I now bring up the topic of MTV's Punk'd.

Created by Ashton Kutcher, who is too skinny and not talented or charming enough to be the hunk all the little ladies think he is, the show began its second season on Sunday night. The interesting thing about this show, is that fame targets fame. I like to see people whose mere presence in the mass media affords them a level of respect that most of them certainly don't deserve, get taken down a peg. And although you may argue that it allows Mr. Kutcher to grow in stature in some eyes [I disagree based on the nature of the show], it is always good to watch the snake eat his own tail.

2003-10-16T10:57:00.000-04:00

"This Was No Boating Accident!"

The Staten Island ferry was brutally attacked by a pier that was in fact a Al-Queda sleeper agent. The pier's roomate, the pilot of the ferry was so guilt-ridden that he bolted from the scene and promptly tried to kill himself. Not just slitting his wrists, but shooting himself for good measure. Granted, it was with a pellet gun, but it's the thought that counts. Seriously, even if he's not found to be responsible for this, which was more nightmarish than I originally thought [amputations, decapitations, some guy bleeding from his eyes, no this is not a description of Kill Bill], it's a tremendous gesture that the Japanese would certainly respect. He's the captain that wanted to go down with his ship.

Innocence

Kobe Bryant's lawyers claim that they have evidence that will prove the innocence of thier client. Whoa, whoa, WHOA!

As lawyers don't they know to curb their language into easily defendable positions where their culpability is held to a minimum if not eliminated altogether? Making the claim that they can prove someone's innocence is pretty bold, considering. You would have to prove a lifetime of flowers and kitty-cats, but those kitties would have to have been loved and cared for in meticulous fashion, feeding them only humanely-killed albacore tuna and, and the flowers all would have to be farm-raised and paid for promptly. No credit card debt, no record of poor job performance, no neuroses, no nothing that would mean even the remotest thoughts of guilt.

And to claim innocence, one would have to have a much worse sense of style than Kobe, $5000 suits to court are not innocent, pastel sweaters and cordouroys with white sneakers are. In fact any sense of style means that innocence is out the window. Style denotes fashion and taste, things that an innocent would hardly be concerned with. Art of any type would also be hard, there would have to be landscapes as bland and thoughtless as Thomas Kinkade, or as blithe as Monet, but without the French part. The French, as we all know, are not innocent in the least, down to the oldest spinster and the youngest toddler, there is no innocence in all of Gaul. Stonecarving woud be out of the question, as would be woodwork, these arts mean the tearing down of material, and that is certainly not innocent. Only arts that build would be acceptable, and then only performed in a responsible fashion. The media is out entirely, unless you're Mister Rogers, and he's dead. Writing, well, you could get away with it so long as there was no hint of irony or cynicism in your work, and of course nothing outre' or ribald.

Innocence is tough to prove. In Kobe's case, innocence would mean that the court would witness Kobe dropping his Armani or Versace trousers to the floor exposing that he is as sexless as a Ken doll, and then denouncing the evils of competition and hip-hop to all, and retiring from the NBA to a life as a foster parent to orphaned orangutans somewhere in British Columbia.

Kill Bill Vol. I (or, The 1st Half of the 4th Film from Quentin Tarantino)

Is pure mad genius stuff. Hack and slash cinema in more ways than one. This movie should rank right up there with another Tarantino work, Natural Born Killers [which Oliver Stone butchered into trying to "mean something"] as the exploitative and nihilistic zenith of it's decade.

I was a few minutes late and missed the previews and the titles, but I think I arrived directly after. Is it so that the film begins with Uma Thurman and Viveca A. Fox already trying to slice and dice each other? I'll be seeing it again, so I'll answer that for myself. I thought that I had missed the setup, but very soon after the gun in the cereal box trick and the consequent knife to the heart, I realized that I hadn't missed anything. It's great having Tarantino back. His manic circular storytelling, his absolute passion for movies, his casting sense. Man, this is terrific fucking moviemaking.

Now, if Guy Ritchie can extract himself from his wife's ass and recover from Swept Away, all will be right with the world.

Doctor Who?

This story captivates me, as a sci-fi fan and as a hip pop culture guru. I have never really dug myself into the mythos of Doctor Who, but if it is true that Eddie Izzard is the next Doctor, I will immediately become an dedicated fan. Izzard is funny, and the man can act. Check out Peter Bogdonovich's The Cat's Meow if you don't believe me. He's even got the backing of a former Doctor:
Eddie Izzard would be ideal in the role of the Doctor, says former scarf-wearer Tom Baker.

Tom Baker has been talking about the upcoming TV series reviving the role with which he remains so firmly linked. His main suggestion for an actor to play the Doctor? Transvestite comic Eddie Izzard: "I think Eddie would be good as he's so strange - there is a benevolent alien quality to him", Baker told the Teletext website TV Plus.

I just hope Izzard wears that scarf, as a cross-dresser, he could do so much with that bit of wardrobe. Consider the Tardis the closet, and Eddie coming out of it. The BBC makes such better choices than anything on American TV. Hopefully someon will have seen "The Office"

2003-10-09T13:03:00.000-04:00

Enough

Let's get this party going again. I'll begin with my 2 favorite stories of the past few days.

1) Of my family and friends who love cats, the main reason they say they enjoy them is because they are unfathomable, inscrutable, near-mystical beings who remain loving and just sooo cuuute while being perhaps the most aloof creatures on the planet [next to California voters, but I'll get to that later], and not because they can be trained to poop in a box. Well, try telling that to Roy, of Siegfried and ___ fame. Who, during the course of a regularly scheduled bout of prancing prestidigitation [otherwise known as a Vegas magic act], slipped [possibly on a overturned Singapore Sling or a few loose sequins] and fell. At this, one of the Siberian tigers who are imprisoned and exploited by Roy and his partner, came to the aid of his master by grabbing him by the neck and dragging him from the stage. To the abject horror of 1500 blue-haired ladies and children who had to be kept occupied while daddy was at the sportsbook.

Now, to their credit, Siegfried and Roy do care for their animals a bit better than the average circus, they even own a sanctuary where they breed the big, platinum blond--er, white--cats with the intention of repopulating the species which is extremely endangered. Where they'll repopulate them to is another issue. Hollywood, Miami, Berlin? So, when the tiger was finally prodded to let go, Roy's barely heard words spoken through his newly ruined throat were, "Don't harm the cat."

That took a lot of courage. First of all, those may be the last words that he may ever speak, 4-inch fangs tend to have a negative impact on the human voice box [as the critical condition tag the hospital put on Roy will attest to]. Second, he said that in English, not his native tongue. And third, well, let's just say the nearest security guard would have been more than happy to pull his Glock and put down a 800-pound tiger.

Siegfried, speaking on that bastion of good news for the everyman, Larry King Live, says that Roy is recovering. All I can say is, hopefully not.

The US Department of Agriculture [Why, are tigers livestock? Shouldn't it be the Fish and Wildlife Service or something?] is investigating the incident while the tiger is impounded in the casino. Great, so the tiger is playing blackjack and ogling cocktail waitresses while some bureaucrat is pondering whether the animal will be destroyed. And there's another thing. If I was to attack a magician would I be held in a casino? No! Is that fair? No! Clearly animal rights are out of control in America.*

*This statement is meant for ironic purposes, and should not be construed as a sincere or even overblown actual opinion. The author loves animals, even cats who he is desperately allergic to, and in no way supports or defends the position of those who would say, "Jesus, Maw. That tiger should be put down, then stuffed and mounted and raffled off at the slots!"

2) Californication. Damn those Red Hot Chili Peppers are prescient! Y'know, I have friends from and living in California and I have to look at them now and think--no tentacles or antennae, no greenish pallor or scaly skin, no brains exposed in glass domes, no glowing floating ectoplasmic being here--so why the fuck is Arnold Schwarzenegger now leading the world's 9th largest economy and the most populous state in America? Remember folks, this is the guy who starred in Commando [with Alyssa Milano], Raw Deal [with no-one, apparently], Red Heat [with Jim Belushi], and Junior [with Emma Thompson and Danny DeVito]. Mourn and despair, governorship is taking him out of consideration for those sequels.

Jumped-up-Christ-on-a-bicycle, folks! Have you seen Pumping Iron? It's a nightmare! For the entirety of his life, Ah-nold has been a self-obsessed, steroid-addled macho man who was paid to "act" on film doing horrific things to other human beings in the name of goodness and liberty. Yes, I like Predator and the Terminator films [well, I haven't seen 3, I'm not really panicking about it], I even liked kindergarten Cop, Total Recall and True Lies, but COME ON! Granted, some of his campaign planks are very non-Republican...Insidious Hollywood liberals rejoice, you rubbed off, then apparently Arnold rubbed you off, but still...And I don't particularly disagree with fiscal responsibility, just which programs suffer to reduce spending. But, as a Republican he is more likely to go over to the even darker [a.k.a, Bushian] side faster than Conan the Barbarian can take your head off.

Are Californians this ready to drop to their knees and give celebrities a blow job that they'll vote a recalcitrant womanizing Austrian with family ties to the fucking Nazi Party into the state house? Does the Kennedy connection absolve him of that? I suppose it does. I suppose all you need is Jay Leno and Rob Lowe on your side.

Wow. And I thought the OJ verdict was spectacular. California, you get what you deserve. Friggin kooks.

2003-10-02T00:28:00.000-04:00

Grief

My grandmother died yesterday in Miami Beach with her children around her. She had a choice, live on a respirator or the other thing. She had contracted pneumonia which weakened her, accelerating renal failure, which directly contributed to a critical loss of blood pressure. She had known suffering. Mostly during the European wars of the first half of the twentieth century. But she had also known a life of substance, of joy and sorrow. Lived the kind of life that novels are written of, that people yearn for, even the painful episodes. A life of love and loss. But the loss of her husband, my grandfather in 1983 seemed to break her heart. My mother says that she loved to spend time with us when we were children, but since I don't remember much of those years, I don't remember her for that. I remember her nurturing goulash, and chicken soup, and her sometimes nagging, but always comforting presence as I grew. She withdrew a bit after my grandfather's death, but in recent visits, she was very loving and interested in the person I had become. But she never did like my beard.

My grandmother, who I called "Nanny", was born in Poland. Her given name was Leonora. I actually can't recall her maiden name. She was the daughter of a cavalry officer who in some way was a member of the Polish aristocracy. She fled Europe with my grandfather, ahead of the Nazis. She lost much of her family to concentration camps. She was a sucessful example of the American Dream. She and my grandfather settled in Washington D.C., started a family and opened a bakery. My mother was pressed into service at 14 to drive the delivery truck. They made that bakery into a million-dollar investment. They retired at 65 to South Florida to golf, and bridge, and fresh-squeezed orange juice. There's far more to it all than that. I just don't remember it right now. I'll miss her greatly.

I'm worried for my Mom, who I just spent some hours with upon her return from Florida. She seems OK, much better than this morning when her voice was hollow and distant. I'm not sure yet. She had to perform some tasks over the last 24 hours that a child prepares themselves for, but who can really do that? Her brothers were with her, and they've always been a formidible force when unified. It's just that she has such a fatalistic outlook sometimes, and I know that she gets depressed.

Thanks for listening. I know there are those of you who may consider this expolitative. Especially seeing as how this site is usually an excuse to rant, or joke, or both. I have started to think of this site more as a journal, and less a creative outlet. But that pendulum can swing rather far, rather quickly. I wish I had a digital image of my grandmother to put at the top of this post.

2003-09-30T13:48:00.000-04:00

Animal Rights

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you-- a day in the life of our Nation's Capitol.

Mayor Stalls Contract For Animal Shelter
Williams Wants Bidding Process Reviewed

By Arthur Santana
Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, September 30, 2003; Page B04

D.C. Mayor Anthony A. Williams put on hold yesterday a contract that would have allowed a small Toronto organization to begin running the D.C. animal shelter this week, saying he wanted to make sure the bidding process was carried out properly.

Williams (D) made the announcement two days before the contract awarded last week to the Humane Society of Canada was to take effect. He said he asked the D.C. Office of Contracting and Procurement to defer implementation of the contract until city lawyers could review it. That could take up to 10 days, said his spokesman said.

"I want to assure that the bid process was conducted properly and that all District laws and procedures were followed," Williams said in a statement. In the meantime, Williams said that the city Health Department will continue to run the shelter at 1201 New York Ave. NE.

The mayor's announcement came after dissent from several animal groups and city officials, who have questioned the qualifications of the Canadian group.

The Canadian Federation of Humane Societies, which represents about 100 animal organizations across Canada, said the group is not qualified.

"The Humane Society of Canada has no experience or involvement in animal control or shelter operations," Bob Van Tongerloo, chief executive of the federation, the counterpart to the Humane Society of the United States, said in an interview yesterday. "As far as we know, they don't do anything."

Michael O'Sullivan, executive director of the Humane Society of Canada, could not be reached yesterday. Last week he said that he was aware of the criticism. He said he was busy last week meeting city officials, assessing the shelter and trying to make peace with local animal groups that have spoken out against his organization. Among the critics are the Washington Human Society, which had run the facility for 20 years before pulling out after a contract dispute with the city.

"We don't want to get involved in the politics," O'Sullivan said. "We just want to help animals."

Last week, the city's Office of Contracting and Procurement awarded O'Sullivan's group a four-month, $657,000 contract. The full contract -- one year and four successive one-year renewals at $2 million annually -- would have to be approved by the D.C. Council.

The Washington Humane Society had also put in a bid for the contract.

Council member Sandy Allen (D-Ward 8), chairman of the Committee on Human Services, said yesterday that she intends to hold a hearing with city officials and O'Sullivan next month to inquire about the contract.

The Humane Society of Washington withdrew from the shelter Sept. 5, frustrated that the city had not offered it a long-term contract in two years. The city Health Department subsequently took over the shelter while contract negotiations with the two groups commenced.

The negotiations with the local group failed chiefly on two of the city's sticking points: unilateral authority to make changes to the contract at any time and to issue short-term contract extensions after the first year, said Jacques Abadie III, the city's chief procurement officer.

Abadie said yesterday that those provisions are standard but that the Washington Humane Society rejected them. He said the Canadian group was willing to concede to those points and thus was awarded the contract.

Abadie said that his office investigated the qualifications of the Canadian group and that it met the city's criteria. He said he welcomed the mayor's request to review the contract.

"I think it was all done in accordance with the rules and regulations," Abadie said. "But anytime anyone wants me to review it for them, I'll certainly do that."

O'Sullivan said he has worked in animal protection for more than 30 years and founded his group 10 years ago. He said that although his group of 10 employees doesn't actually run a shelter, he's up to the task of running the District's facility, which impounds about 13,000 animals a year.

"All of the duties that I'll be overseeing I've actually done myself with hands-on experience," O'Sullivan said.

O'Sullivan, 49, said that he has no plans to bring workers from his Toronto staff to the city's shelter but that he and the new shelter manager, Alvaro Posada-Salazar, who has worked with him and lives near Bogota, Colombia, will move to the city to run the shelter's day-to-day operations.

© 2003 The Washington Post Company

The previous article ran in today's Washington Post [the picture is culled from other sources]. My sister was formerly employed by the Washington Humane Society. She had been a human educator, an animal control officer, and then a shift manager before being laid-off by the Society because of the lack of a contract. The DC government has a history of contracting specious organizations/businesses to perform crucial infrastructure tasks. In my world, animal control is a necessary service provided to the citizens of the District of Columbia and to the natural world that has to co-exist and put up with the human world. If an organization that has no workers in the Uninted States, whose supervisor would relocate from Bogota, Columbia, and no history of performing the tasks that it would be contracted for can win out over the oldest humane organization in the world and it's local offshoot, then the process is severely fucked up. On top of that, what good does a four-month contract do in the grand scheme of things? That is enough time to maybe move in and hire accordingly. Ridiculous.

I am already mourning the hundreds of animals that will almost certainly suffer needlessly due to this morass of graft and corruption. The picture above is that of a pit bull puppy recovering from being fed a firecracker. This and far worse atrocities occur daily in the city. Who is minding the store? Who will exercise our responsiblity for the animals that we subjugate? Fiscal responsiblity is one thing, moral responsilbity is quite another. If you happen to read this, and you live in DC, call your councilperson and make damn sure that the animals are cared for.

2003-09-26T18:20:00.000-04:00

Update

The largest telemarketing industry group says it wants its members to abide by the national "do-not-call" list next week despite two court rulings that have thrown the program's future into legal limbo.

"We are telling our members, yes indeed, we don't want you calling people who have told anyone they don't want any calls," Direct Marketing Association President H. Robert Wientzen said Friday. He said he hasn't had time to arrange agreements making that request binding, but "up to the moment I have had nobody disagree."

The list of nearly 51 million phone numbers is scheduled to go into effect Wednesday, but rulings by two federal courts have made that plan unlikely.

U.S. District Judge Edward W. Nottingham in Denver issued a ruling late Thursday saying the list violates telemarketers' free speech rights.

2003-09-25T22:41:00.000-04:00

Just For Yuks

Here is a great interview with Berkeley Breathed done by the Onion in 2001. It is the perfect hors d'oeuvre to his new strip debuting in November.

Oh, and new Essential Media for you to digest.

2003-09-25T21:49:00.000-04:00

Screwing the Little Guy Once Again

A couple of months ago, the FTC [Federal Trade Commission] created a website and 1-800 number that any fed-up American could call and have their phone numbers registered to be placed on the "no-call" list. The purpose of this list was to provide a block to all the telemarketeers out there who insist on calling you to peddle their wares and services. All of which are specious in either content or context. I mean, who is going to buy life insurance from some automaton on the end of a phone line with a good feeling about the deal? Who is going to accept that kind of substandard salemanship for something so important? It boggles my mind.

Anyway, the Federal courts have, again [!] blocked the initiation of the no call list.

A federal judge in Denver late today ruled that the government's plan to curb unsolicited telemarketing calls was unconstitutional, another blow to plans to implement a national do-not-call list next week.

The decision by U.S. District Judge Edward W. Nottingham was announced late today after Congress, in a rare display of speed and bipartisanship, voted to overturn another federal judge's decision this week to halt the government's plan to allow Americans to block telemarketing calls to their homes.

Consumers have placed more than 50 million phone numbers on the anti-telemarketing list by using the Internet or a toll-free telephone number. Beginning Oct. 1, marketers would have risked an $11,000 fine each time they called a number on the list.

That's great. Bow to the influence of the corporate lackeys and the special interest again! I mean who cares if 80 million Americans had already signed up for the service? Who cares that this actually will mean a surge in telemarketing calls to us poor bastards who just want to not have to check our caller ID [psychotic ex-girlfriends and work-related calls aside] every time we pick up the phone. It would be nice to not have the evening interrupted with the ringing of the phone crashing in on dinner, or prime-time, or for fuck's sake, bedtime. I once got a call from an asshole at 11:30 pm. That's the time of night that I pay attention, it may be an emergency or even a booty call. That's important, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna be distracted by the words "this is a courtesy call on behalf of Sears, or Liberty Mutual, or GEICO, or anyone, ever again. Jesus, I'm reduced to cheering for Congress as the underdog! I usually have to rely on the courts to make the rational descions.

Tell 'em all to screw themselves and sign up for the list here!

Here's a bit more food for thought: it seems that our tormentor is also our savior. [The following article is from April, 2003]

When the federal government recently decided to go after unwanted telemarketing calls, it sought bids from companies to set up a nationwide "do not call" list.

AT&T Corp.'s technology and low bid helped one of its subsidiaries win the 10-year, multimillion-dollar contract -- even though federal records show that AT&T has drawn the most consumer complaints for telemarketing practices in recent years.

2003-09-23T12:30:00.000-04:00

Storm Chaser

Last Thursday, I spent the morning running around trying to be just a bit more prepared than we currently were for Hurricane Isabel. I bought some canned dogfood, 2 large bags of ice, and more beer. We had plenty of flashlights, lanterns, batteries, bottled water, books, ponchos, tarps, etc. We're just too far inland to have had to worry about plywood or sandbags. If anything was going to get us it was going to be trees, and frankly, there's just not that much to be done when you live in a woodland ecosystem, but to cross your fingers and slam another Bud.

Speaking of beer, I hate watery mass-produced swill, but it is easiest to come by here in the sticks. I have to drive nearly a half-hour to get to the nearest source of Newcastle. So, it was a Anheuser-Busch sponsored storm, and what a storm it was. In addition to all the above precautions, I also: stored away anything in the yard, or on the porches that could become airborne, filled the bathtubs with water and glued myself to the TV, straining to determine what was going to happen here. All I neglected to do was to shower.

Well, my Dad works at Home Depot and he came home at 3 with stories of crazy people buying up everything they could think of to stave off the storm. He said that they got a tractor-trailer of 98 $4000 generators at 6am, all of them were gone by 10 am. One woman bought 4! 4@$4000=$16,000! She only needed one, but kept 3 other people from possibly having power because she had to be sure that one would work. Why? Do you have a relative at home on life support? You should have a generator already! I think that it's required to even bring a vegetative patient home. Why else? Desperate amounts of perishable food, husband just came back with the venison sausage to tide the family over for the winter and the freezer just can't stop? Or was it just because you can't miss your stories and Oprah? Why?

Anyway, Isabel showed up with reinforcements around 6 pm, and for the next 4 hours I would toss on a slicker and walk the property checking for uprooted or broken trees. All told, there were only 3 trees on our property down, only one of which even had the potential to cause damage. It missed the DirecTV dish by 3 feet! That would have been a disaster! While I interspersed my rainy tours with continuously watching StormCenter4, or the VIPIR radar in StormCentral7, I really wanted to be out in it for the duration. It was fun! The trees were really whipping around, and I have always loved rainstorms. I like the isolation that being in the rain brings. I like the noise on my hat or hood, or car roof. I like getting soaked then going in and changing out of those wet things. So, I'm crazy, right? Sue me.

We weren't supposed to get the strongest winds until around 11 pm, but at 10 pm the power went off. Right in the middle of CSI, dammit! Now, we're on a well, no power, no water. Did I mention that I hadn't showered? Thursday, the big book box closed early, also at 3pm. We weren't sure if there would be power on Friday, so we set up a system. One manager would go in around 8 am, see if there was power, if so they'd call all the employees and tell 'em, "Hey, we're working today." If not, they'd go home. Then I was to go in at noon and check the same thing. So, I bathed myself with a washcloth and a bucket tossed on a t-shirt and a pair of not too dirty shorts and went off on my merry way. There was no power at our store, but it seemed like everyone else was open. Bummer, an extra day off.

So the power stayed off through Friday, and Saturday. Most of Friday consisted of talking my Mom down from her panicked aftermath state. Weird. She was really freaked out by all the damage that had occurred around her, but no to her or her property. Her cottage is on the tidal Potomac in Colonial Beach, VA. That place was devastated by storm surge and flooding. The 2 big restaurants were washed away completely and the Riverboat, which was basically a nightclub with off-track betting was really a river boat during the storm. I guess that's what really messed with her grasp on reality [which can be tenuous].

On Saturday my father and I were raking up in the morning, and when we finished, I called Jenn to see if I could beg a shower. I had reason to believe that her power was on. She said sure, so I collected my shampoo, deodorant, toothbrush and a towel and headed over there. After refreshing myself, and keeping Jenn from writing a really boring paper on "Why Egypt Qualifies as a Civilization" [bleah], and making tentative plans to go see a movie later that night, I came home to my Dad putting together a new chainsaw, "Hey, let's chop up trees."

"Dad, I just showered for the first time in 2 days."

"What do you have to be clean for? Come on, help."

So my clean period lasted 2 hours. After the chainsawing, it was another spongebath, then I did go see that movie with Jenn and Jason and Paul. I mention it in the previous post. I actually wanted to see Underworld. Am I glad I was outvoted!

I also crashed at Jenn's so that I could shower before work in the morning. I hadn't slept on a convertible sofa in a long time. But it didn't bother me very much.

In conclusion, because the rest of the story is really boring, our power came back Monday, September 22, at 5:30 in the evening. That was nearly 4 days with no refrigeration [we lost all the ice cream, NO!], no air conditioning, no TV and strained eyes from reading by lantern light. The only ordeal left is to put up with my co-worker, Isabel's jokes tonight about how she was the cause of this devastation, etc. Nothing more Budweiser won't take care of. I want to finish that crap, and get some decent beer anyway.

2003-09-23T01:53:00.000-04:00

Oh, Happy Day!

Once Upon A Time In Mexico is the best movie I have seen this year. It has surpassed X-Men 2, Finding Nemo, and Pirates of the Caribbean. Johnny Depp is fucking hilarious, and Robert Rodriquez is a genius. Quentin Tarantino had better watch out, 'cause it's gonna take a hell of a flick to allow Kill Bill to surpass this movie as the best black comedy/action/melodrama of the year. Hey, how's this for a crazy idea, Johnny Depp and Brad Pitt in a remake of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Stupid? Probably. But here's the kicker, they don't die at the end, eh, eh?

On to other, more important news. Later today, you will be able to buy the 10th in Lemony Snicket's magnum opus, A Series Of Unfortunate Events. The Slippery Slope. Go buy it and read it. These kids books are too damn funny to be left alone by self-respecting adults.

Hmm...I'm thinking that it really can't be his magnum opus, a word which in this case means "a very big flightless waterfowl with Oedipal issues and a twisted fascination with the Vice-Presidency", he has no other opus to compare it to.

It also marks the release of Neil Gaiman's new Sandman story, and a great new critical work about Neil Gaiman's Sandman work in general.

Also, Neil Stephenson's Quicksilver is out later today. There are many great things alreay said about this first of 3 huge volumes, but my favorite was this: "A rollicking epic containing the best parts of pirates, puritans and ~~psyis~~ physicks! any book that features Blackbeard and Isaac Newton is fabulous in my world!" -a pathetic sycophantic fan who happens to work at a big, corporate book box and is currently typing this post.

Seriously, it's tremendous, in more ways than one. I have to go read some more of it now. And not by candlelight any longer. Our power is back on, which is why I am able to write this in the first place. I'll tell of my Isabel-related misfortunes tomorrow.

2003-09-17T12:46:00.000-04:00

My apologies to Adrienne, I blogged something she sent me without her permission. The offending article has been removed. Again, I apologize, but sometimes I am so starved for material that I get grabby. Mea culpa. Que sera, sera. Bygones.

2003-09-15T12:13:00.000-04:00

Dork News

I have never bid for anything on eBay before yesterday. And I only did yesterday, because I just discovered the existence of a product that I must lay my grubby little hands on. It's a bust of Boba Fett.

Yes, one half of my name sake, and my favorite Star Wars character that anyone ever does anything with. Up until now, I have only exercized my inner geek by gathering the Jedi and Sith action figures. No Greedo, no Jango Fett, no Amidala, no Captain Needa. Jedi only. They are arranged in a tasteful display in a dusty corner of my home where no guest who hasn't already commited to a more--shall we say--intimate relationship would notice. Anyway, I'll stop there. I bid on this item because it is apparently not available through any retailer that I can find, and dammit, we wants it!

Sorry, channelling a bit of Gollum there. Jesus, could this post get any dorkier? Anyway--I bid $75. The original price was $50, and the only bid had been $60, which hadn't reached the reserve level [the level at which the owner would consider selling]. so I bid a bit higher, but I could only bid once. There were only 5 hours left in the bidding and I had to go to work. When I got home, I checked the auction. I had lost by a fucking dollar. A dollar!

That pisses me off. If the bidding had gone to $120 or something, I wouldn't have cared. That was more than I wanted to spend anyway. But a dollar? That's like losing. I lost on eBay. I lost the chance to spend $75 dollars on a piece of high-quality, expertly-molded plastic that would have become nothing but a dust-gathering monument to my obsession with a fictional character, from a fictional galaxy far, far away. Dammit, I hate losing...

Validation

Are you an intellectual?

Well done. You are an intellectual who is clearly at ease with big questions and strong coffee. Your know your Sartre from your Schopenhauer. But remember: the line between an intellectual and a pretentious bore is at best thin.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. The next time I'm kicking ass at Trivial Pursuit, I'll keep that advice in mind.

2003-09-12T16:30:00.000-04:00

2 Tragedies and a Triumph

The Man in Black, Johnny Cash, is dead at 71. He died of complications due to diabetes. But I have this feeling it was more due to a broken heart. When his wife, June Carter Cash died in May, I thought: "he doesn't have long himself now." Here's a much better obituary at RollingStone.com Cash's Live at Folsom Prison is as essential an American album as Dylan's Blonde on Blonde. If you don't appreciate the man now, learn to.

John Ritter is dead at 54. He died of an aortic aneurysm. That's a damn shame. He still makes me laugh. As Jack Tripper, his line "Lordy, lordy, lordy." is part of my daily vocabulary. Why, oh why, couldn't you have taken Joyce DeWitt instead?! Here's a better and more complete obit. Mr. Furley is putting on his black velvet leisure suit.

But on a happier note, there's a new Batman movie in production. Christian Bale will give it a go as the other man in black, a younger Bruce Wayne just finding his way as a vigilante. Christopher Nolan [Memento, Insomnia] will direct. Sounds bad-ass. But I just can't celebrate too much right now.

Vindication At Last!

2003-09-12T14:35:00.000-04:00

Vindication At Last!

So I get to work yesterday at about 1:45 pm. I sit at my desk and start answering my e-mail. Then there's a page for me. I get on the phone and the manager on duty tells me there's a call from someone named Campbell Smith who works for a TV news program based in New York. "It's about Julia Rose," she says.

Dammit! I think, why are these people so late on the story. I have too much to deal with to get involved in this. Now, I have to tell you here that I'm only authorized to speak to media types off the record. Frankly, that's a phrase that I never thought I'd have to utter much less use seriously, but so goes life. I thought that maybe it was some small affiliate somewhere upstate, where my mother wants to move [that's another story] I was going to be speaking to some vapid hick who was only interested in scandal the same way that our local rag here is. And that's what got us into this trouble in the first place. Anyway, I pick up the phone.

"Hello, can I help you?"
"Hi, my name is Campbell Smith [it's a lady]. I'm with a TV show here in New York called the Daily Show, we're thinking about doing a piece on Julia Rose and the "chicken legs" comment. Could you speak with me for a minute?"

I'm not really sure about anything after 'Daily Show', folks. I had stopped listening while my heart got going again.

"Hello?" She asked while I waited for that first ka-thumpa.
"Oh, yeah, the Daily." I said nonchalantly, "Yes, I'd be able to speak with you, but only off the record, is that OK?"
"Sure, that would be great, we're trying to find out what happened from your point of view."

Meanwhile, all I wanted to say was--YES! You're gonna skewer that bitch, right? You're gonna get Steve or Steve down there to Bawlmer and interview her wingnut-freak-hardbody ass, you're gonna do right by us, right? Damn this is cool, is Jon nearby? And by the way, you have a really sexy voice... AHEM! Let me get myself under control here and get back to the story.

So I go on to tell her that this is a mere matter of a performer getting axed because the performance was poor and the audience didn't like it. I mentioned a few specifics like the fact that the cafe was empty during her show, the fact that she sang an off-color song that didn't really jibe with our all-inclusive image, and the fact that the newspaper didn't really call us and speak to us to get our side of the story. I also said that the first we heard of the particular "chicken legs" phrase was in the paper when the story came out. I said that we were as shocked as anyone.

"You're going to interview her?"
"Well, we're still trying to work out some details."

Campbell [I feel a kinship here] seemed sympathetic and understood that the story was one-sided and that I was a fucking paragon of virtue and freedom. I offered her my corporate office number so she could call and get the official word. She said sure. Then I offered her my cell number and the url to this site. No I didn't but, SHIT I wish I had! I wish that I had done some kind of All the President's Men bullshit and totally subverted corporate policy. I want this story to happen, I want Julia Rose bound, gagged, tied to a spit and roasted. And I don't think that if she does read this, as she has visited this site previously, that it would matter one iota to her. She starving for publicity and that will be her downfall.

At this point I was really nervous and wound up from the telling of the injustice, so I stuck my head out the door and screamed, "The Daily Show is on line 1! Could someone get me the number for Ann Arbor?"

This was met with blank stares, open mouths, a chorus of "Who?" and one keening wail of "SWEET!"*

I really hope that Campbell, Jon and the other fellows in the newsroom are kind to us, and damn well better not use my name or anything. But it would be worth it to be in trouble to see Julia Rose get whacked with sarcasm. This had better get aired. We deserve it, goddammit!

Absolution, thy name is The Daily!

*That would be Jenn.

9/11, Part 3

2003-09-11T12:01:00.000-04:00

9/11, Part 3

I don't know abut you, but I've got my flag out on my porch today. There it flutters in the breeze, those stars and stripes stirring my emotions into a big, swell ol' pot of American stew. I flipped on CNN this morning to see if there were any tasteful remembrances going on today. I thought it was a rerun of last year's show. There they were again, all those people filing in and out of Ground Zero while the names of the victims were read, except the effect has worn a bit already. There were these 2 kids: a girl about 10, and a boy nearly 18 reading through the bottom half of the 'M's. When they had finished the folks that they didn't know, they got to read the names of their respective relatives who had perished. Well, the boy went first, "And my uncle, so-and-so!" Let me give some stage direction on that line. He read it like he was introducing the starting quarterback who everyone expected would miss the season with that ligament he tore in the car wreck that his girlfriend died in [But it was only just, since he was breaking up with her at the time, and she told him, she gave him plenty of warning, she said that "if you don't take it back, I'm going to drive us into the river!" He didn't take it back.]. With inflection learned from the Chicago Bulls announcer who used to introduce Michael Jordan. It went more like this, "And--my Uncle, SO-AND-SOOOO!!"

I was freaked out, man. And the sweet little girl, dressed in her white confirmation dress with ribbons in her hair had to follow this smarmy, attention-starved post modern lout of a teenager, who thought he was on TRL introducing a video by Good Charlotte, with her small, little grief-ridden voice saying--and Jesus, I think I actually teared up, not entirely out of sympathy and my own 3-year old completely detatched trauma, but also in anger--saying "And my Dad."

She added his name, but who cares. She was genuine, she was bereaved. That other kid may have well been some idiot that Howard Stern got to worm his way into the proceedings. But ain't that America?

By the way, Blooger, er Blogger now has spellcheck! I'm a happy boy. And that truly is America.

2003-09-10T16:17:00.000-04:00

Tribute and Rebuttal

The following obituary was written by Alan Riding of the New York Times found on the Salt Lake Tribune website. I don't know exactly why, but whenever I search for news articles the SLC papers pop up an awful lot. I thought that I should have an impartial view of the woman as well as Adrienne's passionately worded rant below. And frankly, I was embarassed at my lack of knowledge regarding the deceased.

Leni Riefenstahl, the German filmmaker whose innovative documentaries about a Nazi rally in Nuremberg in 1934 and the Berlin Olympics of 1936 earned her both acclaim as a cinematic genius and contempt as a propagandist for Hitler, died on Monday night at her home in Pocking, south of Munich. She was 101.
After the defeat of Germany in 1945, she was pronounced a Nazi sympathizer by the Allies and never again found work as a movie director. But her revolutionary film techniques influenced later generations of documentary makers and television commercial makers.
She insisted that she was never a Nazi and that "Triumph of the Will" and "Olympia" were inspired only by her desire to create works of art.
While her documentaries continue to be studied in some film schools, her repeated attempts to find financing for a new film always ended in failure, while public screenings of her movies and exhibitions of her photographs prompted protests.
After the war she spent 20 years in relative isolation, living in her mother's apartment in Munich. Then, in the late 1960s, she reinvented herself as a photographer. She next took up scuba diving, claiming to be only 51, when she was 20 years older, to obtain a diving license. Two collections of her underwater photographs, "Coral Gardens" and "Wonders Under Water," were published in the United States.
Last year, to coincide with her 100th birthday, she released her first movie in almost half a century, a 45-minute documentary of marine life called "Impressions Under Water."
She made several trips to southern Sudan to photograph the Nuba tribes. Her first book, Last of the Nuba, published in the United States in 1974, to some extent rehabilitated her as an artist. She worked alone at first, then later with Horst Kettner, 42 years her junior, who lived with her until her death. She has no other survivors.
When Riefenstahl was over 90, she again found herself at the center of heated debate when she was the subject of a three-hour documentary, "The Wonderful, Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl" (1993), by the German filmmaker Ray Muller. At about the same time, she also published her own 669-page autobiography, Leni Riefenstahl: A Memoir.
In the documentary, Muller questioned her claim to have had few dealings with Joseph Goebbels, Hitler's propaganda minister. At the end of the documentary, Muller also tried to provoke her into admitting guilt for her past.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked. "Where is my guilt? I can regret. I can regret that I made the party film, 'Triumph of the Will,' in 1934. But I cannot regret that I lived in that time. No anti-Semitic word has ever crossed my lips. I was never anti-Semitic. I did not join the party. So where then is my guilt? "

2003-09-10T15:52:00.000-04:00

Bringing the Good News

First of all let me apologize for my previous post. It was below my standards and I'm sure I disappointed many of you with it's disjointed and somewhat out of character dissing of Bush43 for doing something stupid. I usually laud the bastard for participating in the stupid crap that's going to lead to his single term ass being booted out of the Oval office next year. Sorry.

More importantly, and here's to Adrienne for giving me the heads up first! I have some glorifying to do. Please allow me a moment to catch my breath and limber up my fingers. These words have been building up for 24 hours.

The Washington Post reports that: MY FAVORITE COMIC STRIP CREATOR OF ALL TIME NO NOT CHARLES M. SCHULTZ HE'S DEAD, BUT WOULDNT THAT BE A TRICK, IS TRIUMPHANTLY RETURNING TO THE SUNDAY FUNNY PAGES WITH A NEW LARGE-FORMAT STRIP STARRING HIS MOST POPULAR CHARACTER NO NOT BILL THE CAT! OPUS, A NEW COMIC FEATURING EVERYONE'S FAVORITE PENGUIN OPURT WILL BE HITTING THE NEWSSTANDS AT THE END OF NOVEMBER. BERKLEY BREATHED, THE RENEGADE RECLUSE WHO PENS THE STRIP HAS BEEN OUT OF CIRCULATION [GET IT?] SINCE 1989 WHEN HE FOLDED HIS OUTLAND TENT AND WALKED AWAY AT THE TOP OF HIS GAME JUST LIKE MICHAEL JORDAN DID THE FIRST AND SECOND TIME HE RETIRED. AT THE TIME BERKELEY HAD ALREADY BEEN OVERSHADOWED BY BILL WATERSON'S CALVIN AND HOBBES AND, FRANKLY, HE WAS BURNT OUT. OUTLAND WAS A PALE SHADOW OF THE LUSH RIPE ENVIROMENTS AND FERTILE FIELDS OF BLOOM COUNTY WHERE BERKE PLAIN RULED THE POLITICAL COMIC LANDSCAPE AFTER DOONESBURY FOUUND A NEW HOME WITH A MUCH SMALLER CIRCULATION PAPER AND ITS SYNDICATE. WELL, AFTER OUTLAND DISAPPEARED I REMEMBER CRYING AND READING MY BLOOM COUNTY COLLECTIONS UNTIL THE BINDINGS WORE OUT MAYBE THEY'LL BE PUT BACK IN PRINT NOW SO I CAN REPLACE THEM. ANYWAY, BERKE HAS GONE ON TO WRITE A HALF-DOZEN BOOKS FOR KIDS WHICH I LOVE FO COURSE, SOME FEATURING OPUS AND OTHER CHARACTERS FROM BLOOM COUNTY: ROSEBUD, THE BASSELOPE FOR EXAMPLE. BUT WHILE THEY HAVE ALL BEEN CHARMING AND WELL ILLUSTRATED NONE HAVE STAISFIED MY SOUL LIKE THE ADVENTURES OF THOSE GUYS BACK IN A SMALL PRECINCT OF A UNNAMED STATE WHERE ANYTHING CAN AND DID HAPPEN OFTEN REFLECTING ON THE STATE OF AMERICA IN THE 80'S WHICH WAS ABYSSMAL DUE TO REAGAN'S SHENANIGANS WITH THE CONTRAS, IRAN, IRAQ, AND THE LAST GASPS OF THE COLD WAR. BERKE DEFTLY COMMENTED ON THE STATE OF THE CULTURE AS WELL. I MISSED ALL THAT DESPERATELY, WHILE CALVIN AND HOBBES WAS CHARMING AND FUNNY AND GARY LARSON PROVIDED SOME LONG NEEDED SURREALITY AND IRONY TO THE AMERICAN PEOPLE, THE COMIC PAGES CONTINUED--AND STILL TO THIS DAY--TO BE DOMINATED BY CUTE FEEL GOOD STRIPS WITH NO REAL MESSAGE OTHER THAN LIFE SURE IS GOOD, HUH? WELL, BULLSHIT, GODDAMMIT! LIFE ISN'T GOOD AND ITS TAKEN AARON MACGRUDER'S BOONDOCKS AND A HOST OF UNDERGROUND STRIPS: TOM TOMORROW'S MODERN LIFE, RED MEAT, AND MATT GROENING'S LIFE IN HELL TO KEEP THE COMEDY ON AN EVEN KEEL. I LIKE MUTTS, DON'T GET ME WRONG, AND GET FUZZY APPEALS TO THE PET OWNER IN ME, BUT CHRIST FOLKS IF DILBERT AND DOONESBURY AND THE AFORMENTIOND BOONDOCKS WEREN'T THERE, WHAT WOULD THE COMICS CONSIST OF? I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, THE SAME SHIT THAT TV CONSISTED OF UNTIL 1997, FAMILY-BASED SITCOM PABLUM AND OLD FAVORITES THAT HAVE LOST THEIR LUSTER! I MEAN JESUS, THE KING OF ID, CROCK, FAMILY-FUCKING-CIRCUS?! FOR BETTER FOR WORSE HAS BECOME MORE LIKE MARY WORTH THAN MARY WORTH IS AND ALL THE SINGLE PANEL PUNCHLINE COMICS THAT PURPORT TO REPLACE THE FAR SIDE ARE COMPLETE CRAP AND THOSE THAT MAKE UP FOR SOME OF THE DEARTH OF ACTUAL HUMOR ARE HORRIBLY ILLUSTRATED [PEARLS BEFORE SWINE BEING A GOOD EXAMPLE] OH, I CANNOT WAIT FOR THOSE CHILL LATE AUTUMN DAYS OF 2003 WHEN BERKELEY AGAIN PUTS PEN TO PAPER AND BRINGS ME BACK TO THE GOOD TIMES I HAD DURING THE WORST TIME OF MY LIFE, ADOLESCENCE SPICED WITH DIVORCE, PAINFUL INTROVERSION AND TRYING TO GROW UP IN A WORLD WHERE THE BERLIN WALL WAS COMING DOWN AND BATMAN WAS PREMIERING AT THE CINEPLEX--THOSE HEADY DAYS OF RAW SUBURBIA, MY YOUTH, THE 80'S.

Can you tell that I'm excited?

Also, Leni Reifenstahl died. Too bad.

2003-09-05T11:33:00.000-04:00

Hail to the Redskins--er, Chief!

Football season is upon us. And in true dork fashion, I have signed up for fantasy football hosted by Yahoo! and commissioneered by J. This season I chose a team name that is evocotive of the famous Orange Crush defense of the Denver Broncos, but with my own ironic twist. I am the Yellow Press! For 2 reasons, one: because I am a member of that august and reactionary body, albeit an extremely fringe member out here on my island in the data stream. And second: as a commentary on the actuality of newsgathering at the beginning of the 21st century. I have occasion to watch the news once in a while, and more occasions to actually read the papers. The only bits of "news" that are reliable are the uncut or live video feeds [which are mostly pretty boring shots of pretty boring people taking about pretty boring things, and the Daily Show. Has anyone seen that footage of Bush43 dropping his dog? Canines are pretty good judges of character. And that dog wanted gone real bad. And more on the Prez. I watched the inaugural game in the NFL last night. My Washington Redskins vs. the New York J-E-T-S. The Redskins won on a field goal. Good, but not exciting. But I digress...Before the game in the spot usually reserved for some poor celebrity recruited to say, "Are you ready for some football?" ABC instead got Bush43 to give a little pep talk to the troops about the strenght of America and so on. And then he spoke the above line and Hank Williams started singing. Isn't that tripe really beneath the office? He continues to embarass this country and me. And I don't even like him.

2003-09-02T10:09:00.000-04:00

YES! YES! YES!

2003-09-02T10:05:00.000-04:00

Props

Welcome to the world of the button-heads, Jason. You'll see your link has been upgraded with your rather bland graphic. Make it flash or something, then it'll be interesting.

2003-08-29T13:28:00.000-04:00

Air Guitar Heaven Redux

Rolling Stone's list of the greatest guitarists of all time is broad-based, comprehensive, and respectful of the roots of rock guitar, but flawed. Where's Yngwie Malmstien*, C.C. DeVille*, and just who the hell is Ali Farka Toure? Is Robert Johnson the bluesman or that guy who had the one instrumental hit in the early 90's? Keith Richards is higher than Pete Townshend and Eddie Van Halen? And if Sonic Youth is on here, where the fuck are Joe Strummer and Mick Jones? There are so many questions. The link is at RollingStone.com. Here's the list anyway...

I have now annotated the list with [?] next to names I don't even recognize, and other comments where applicable.
1 Jimi Hendrix
2 Duane Allman of the Allman Brothers Band
3 B.B. King
4 Eric Clapton
5 Robert Johnson
6 Chuck Berry
7 Stevie Ray Vaughan
8 Ry Cooder
9 Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin
10 Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones [For what? Stones solos are just the hook, amplified.]
11Kirk Hammett of Metallica
12 Kurt Cobain of Nirvana [C'mon, really?]
13 Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead
14 Jeff Beck
15 Carlos Santana
16 Johnny Ramone of the Ramones
17 Jack White of the White Stripes
18 John Frusciante of the Red Hot Chili Peppers [Nice to see a--well, former--punker this high up.]
19 Richard Thompson
20 James Burton [?]
21 George Harrison
22 Mike Bloomfield [?]
23 Warren Haynes [?]
24 The Edge of U2
25 Freddy King [?]
26 Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine and Audioslave
27 Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits
28 Stephen Stills
29 Ron Asheton of the Stooges
30 Buddy Guy
31 Dick Dale
32 John Cipollina of Quicksilver Messenger Service [?]
33 & 34 Lee Ranaldo, Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth [Yeah!]
35 John Fahey [?]
36 Steve Cropper of Booker T. and the MG's [and the Blues Brothers]
37 Bo Diddley [Where's Lonesome George?]
38 Peter Green of Fleetwood Mac [What about Lindsey Buckingham?]
39 Brian May of Queen
40 John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival
41 Clarence White of the Byrds
42 Robert Fripp of King Crimson
43 Eddie Hazel of Funkadelic
44 Scotty Moore
45 Frank Zappa
46 Les Paul
47 T-Bone Walker
48 Joe Perry of Aerosmith
49 John McLaughlin [Wrong! Eleanor you leftist bitch!]
50 Pete Townshend [This is ridiculous.]
51 Paul Kossoff of Free
52 Lou Reed
53 Mickey Baker [?]
54 Jorma Kaukonen of Jefferson Airplane
55 Ritchie Blackmore of Deep Purple
56 Tom Verlaine of Television
57 Roy Buchanan [?]
58 Dickey Betts
59 & 60 Jonny Greenwood, Ed O'Brien of Radiohead
61 Ike Turner [He had a great bitch slap, too.]
62 Zoot Horn Rollo of the Magic Band [?][There was a Muppet named Zoot, but he played the sax.]
63 Danny Gatton
64 Mick Ronson
65 Hubert Sumlin [?]
66 Vernon Reid of Living Colour
67 Link Wray
68 Jerry Miller of Moby Grape
69 Steve Howe of Yes
70 Eddie Van Halen
71 Lightnin' Hopkins
72 Joni Mitchell
73 Trey Anastasio of Phish
74 Johnny Winter
75 Adam Jones of Tool
76 Ali Farka Toure [?][Again, who?!]
77 Henry Vestine of Canned Heat
78 Robbie Robertson of the Band
79 Cliff Gallup of the Blue Caps (1997) [?]
80 Robert Quine of the Voidoids
81 Derek Trucks
82 David Gilmour of Pink Floyd
83 Neil Young
84 Eddie Cochran
85 Randy Rhoads
86 Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath
87 Joan Jett
88 Dave Davies of the Kinks
89 D. Boon of the Minutemen
90 Glen Buxton of Alice Cooper
91 Robby Krieger of the Doors
92 & 93 Fred "Sonic" Smith, Wayne Kramer of the MC5 [?]
94 Bert Jansch [?]
95 Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine
96 Angus Young of AC/DC [Angus! Angus! This is too low. For sheer power alone, he should be above 50.]
97 Robert Randolph [?]
98 Leigh Stephens of Blue Cheer [?]
99 Greg Ginn of Black Flag
100 Kim Thayil of Soundgarden

Seriously, where's George Thorogood, Eliot Easton (The Cars), Slash (Guns N' Roses), Buddy Holly, The guy from Big Country, the guy from Suicidal Tendencies, Waylon Jennings, Bruce Springsteen, Brian Jones (Beach Boys) and I'll repeat for the record--Joe Strummer and Mick Jones (The Clash)?! I wanna see the next 100 on the list!

*I'm totally kidding about these schlubs

2003-08-23T20:19:00.000-04:00

Last? My Ass!

Julia Rose's reply to my reply has stirred the feelings of others involved in the matter. Directly and indirectly, this incident has riled up some powerful personalities against her. I am compelled to fan the flames, stoke the fires and rant a bit more. All that crap about how I was feeling bad? That was heartburn!

You keep referring to manners, Ms. Rose. Manners work 2 ways. You apparently expect manners from those you interact with, but I think that you are the type of person for whom those protocols work in one direction, unless you're trying to make a person feel small. You almost suceeded with me. Manners, Ms. Rose, would dictate that you should apologize to the people that you've hurt. Manners would dictate that you wouldn't make cute little jokes about anyone, even the President, in your act except maybe yourself. "If you can't say anything nice about a person, don't say anything at all--" and all the rest of that happy crap.

Manners are a social offshoot of ethics, which are derived from morals. Morals are broad strokes of behavior, like the 10 commandments [an aside: I'm looking forward to the broad strokes of the wrecking ball bringing down that 'monument' in Alabama.] Ethics are more defined--distilled morality, if you will. Ethics are the choices that we make everyday between right and wrong. On July 25th, Ms. Rose, you chose. And your choice was unethical. You may not have lied outright, but you omitted important facts, and your recruitment of Mike Zitz was yet another unethical choice. You complained about your treatment to a avowed ally in the press enough to have him give you some more coverage that was sure to set hearts sizzling! His editors, inured to his antics and bored with the regular, "real" news that they usually print, albeit shoddily, were so overwhelmed by the appearance of New York Post-quality yellow journalism, that they nearly overdosed on adreneline and endorphins. Once they recovered from their swoon, they gulped some coffee, called legal, and then they replied in words so rarely used that they're under glass marked in red with "BREAK IN CASE OF JUICY SCANDAL"

In other words Ms. Rose, you acted unethically, possibly criminally. Have you heard the word slander, or perhaps libel? Hmm...I have a feeling that if you were to meet Jesus, or god, or whoever the fuck you mean when you say "bless you", just walking down the street, they would say, "Julia, that really wasn't nice. Do you realize how many good people you trod underfoot to make more of a name for yourself?"

You say that I have facts wrong. Well, that's interesting considering that a) I was there, b) I was party to the conversations that led to the descison not to have you back, and c) I have seen many an act at Borders on Friday night, Ms. Rose, some of them pretty bad, and you are the first to have been so roundly panned. The few good people who stayed for your performance were more than welcome to do so, I'm glad they liked you. I'm glad you got a neat pen. I'm glad that those folks got your autograph, probably with the neat pen. In fact, I'm glad for everyone that got anything from you that night [insert winking smiley here--if you can stomach it]. You're a giving person, obviously. So why don't you give me a break, huh? Take your new-found glory and stop berating me for begruding it to you. Who the fuck am I that you care what I think? Your site is flashier and more heavily traveled than mine, don't sweat it. You're in the true public eye now, 'angel'. You'll take your lumps with the rest of 'em, and you'll like it. However, your 15 minutes of fame is ticking away. Can't you hear it? There, just there. Aww...it's gone.

2003-08-22T12:56:00.000-04:00

More and Last

A response to my response to Julia Rose:

Thank you for getting back to me at least. Please remember I never asked for this publicity-I have been struggling since 1998, and until now have been unknown. I did not ask for the press to cover this, they found me. I have not gained any publicity unfairly, sometimes it just happens. I hope you realize as well that I have been nothing but professional in my statements about Borders. I have never said anything to bash them.

And no, I don't think I'm better than anyone else, and if my story comes across as whining, I'm sorry you misinterpret it as such. Mr. Zitz felt this was a story, and so did the Associated Press. Fate won't decide when I slip back, because I am a damn good person, with a good heart, and I have worked hard at my art. This "overnight" attention took over 6 years. Thanks for your response. God bless you although we don't see eye to eye.

Julia Rose

ps. certain borders stores are being INCREDIBLY warm and receptive to me, and
I am very appreciative towards them. They know who they are.

I'm starting to feel bad. Whatever Julia's [look, I'm referring to her by her first name] role in this matter, I can forgive her. I think this will be the last post on this topic until some new outrage appears in the Free-Lance Star. They're my target now and should have been all along...

2003-08-22T11:37:00.000-04:00

Wisdom & Perspective

From a friend too long absent on the subject of my response to the intial e-mail that Julia Rose sent. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you--Mike Porter. APPLAUSE...

I think you should have baited her more with your response. Seen if you could draw her into a screaming rage and then posted her letter on the freelance star forums (if such a beast exists) as an example of how balanced this poor martyr is. Maybe make fun of the reporter calling him “Mr. Pimple.” or Mister Zit and point out that a fair and balanced press would have made mention of the rambling broken flow of her set. And the people quietly gouging out their own eyes in an effort to release some of the internal hemorrhage pressure building up in their brains.

Personally, I agree with her. Your store has a responsibility to promote mediocre local talent. Most of the people that perform in the store suck stinky wind and it is wrong to single out a specific example for ridicule and scrutiny. They all blow goats and don’t deserve the drain of electricity. It’s people like them that caused the blackout in New York. If only they’d stay in the dark where they belong. But if you’re going to allow one then you have to allow her.

Or maybe Borders could start springing for good people to come and play. People that deserve the name ‘talent’. Or maybe even authors. You know those people that write books?

And you are a fascist tool working for a capitalist system.

Thanks, Mike. I needed that. Sadly, the Free-Lance Star does have forums.