Unrealized Potential

The other night Scott and I went to see the movie “Lucy.”
We did so, despite the fact that we object to the central premise of the movie, because it was from Luc Besson and featured Scarlett Johansson, and we thought that would make for an interesting combination.  Kind of like if you blended the action from “Taken” with the physics-bending visuals of “The Matrix,” but with Scarlett Johansson instead of Liam Neeson or Keanu Reeves.
Besides, the movies of the Marvel Cinematic Universe have firmly established that I greatly enjoy watching Scarlett Johansson kicking people’s asses.
Unfortunately, while there were some great scenes of batshit insane action, the movie proved disappointing.
As a friend on Facebook put it:

It's hard to think you could screw up "what if Scarlet Johansson became Dr. Manhattan?" but they managed it.

Yes.  Yes, they did.  And I don’t say that just because the movie didn’t feature Scarlett Johansson sharing Dr. Manhattan’s fashion sense, though that certainly would have helped.
(It couldn’t have hurt, anyway.)
But no, the issue was that central premise that Scott and I decided to grit our teeth and ignore.  The movie made that an impossible feat, however, as that premise was woven into virtually every scene.
That premise being that we humans only use 10% of our brain, that we all have lurking within us a vast, untapped potential.  After all, look at all we’ve accomplished with a mere 10%.  Just imagine what we could do, what sort of superhuman abilities we would have, if we could unleash even a few more percentage points of our potential?  What would happen if we used 100%?
That’s the question that the movie seeks to answer when Johansson, as the titular Lucy, is exposed to a drug that unlocks that potential.
The problem, however, is that the “10%” thing is just a myth, one that has been so thoroughly debunked that it’s almost inconceivable that anyone would still think that it’s a viable plot device.
Further, even if you don’t have much of an understanding of how the brain works, just stopping to think about it for a few minutes will lead you to conclude that it’s bullshit.
Let’s do that thinking right now, shall we?  All it takes is answering a simple question:  If you truly believe that humans only use 10% of their brain, would you mind if I shot you in the 90% you aren’t using?
Sure, a 10% chance of being permanently injured or even killed might not seem like great odds, but the fact remains that you probably aren’t willing to part with 90% of your brain.
In reality, we do use 100% of our brains, we just don’t use that much all the time.  We couldn’t; different areas of the brain perform different functions, some of which are in direct conflict with each other.
How could using your brain’s total capacity actually be a good thing anyway?  Think about how well your computer works when its CPU usage spikes up to 100%.  If you were using 100% of your brain, to continue with the computer metaphor, it would be even worse than that, because you would not only be using 100% of your processing power, you’d be using up 100% of your available storage and all of your RAM at the same time.  That doesn’t sound like a computer that’s performing better than a “normal” computer.
Of course, I don’t think that’s really the idea that the 10% believers are getting at anyway.  What they really seem to think is that there is either some greater efficiency that can be achieved within the brain, or that there is some as-yet unknown mechanism in the brain that can be accessed to unleash superhuman abilities.
However, there are still some underlying problems with that idea.  We may not have a complete understanding of the brain and how it works, but do know enough to know that there is no hidden mechanism.  And while there could be some improvements to efficiency, they’re not going to lead to being able to read minds or control gravity.  Mostly they’ll just improve your memory or your ability to maintain focus.  Which, you know, great.  I’m all for it.
But the idea that the brain is capable of so much more, that it has hidden godlike powers is just silly.
Let’s consider it from two perspectives.
If you’re a creationist of any stripe, this would indicate that whatever god or gods created humans completely overengineered the brain when making humans, then installed some sort of governor in it to throttle it back by 90%.  What for?  I mean, I could see building in some redundancy or whatever, but that approach just seems both bizarre and cruel.  And it’s also silly; the brain, as it’s used in its current state, is already capable of pretty amazing things.  Why not just build it as is, particularly if you’re not going to allow any of the other features to be turned on?  Of course, maybe I’d understand the designer’s thinking better if I used more of my brain’s potential.  Too bad the designer made sure that it’s impossible.
In evolutionary terms, this would indicate that at some point in its evolution, the brain overshot the mark, developed all of these amazing capabilities, and then turned off its access to them.  This does not align with any sort of evolutionary theory.
And sure, you can point to various people who have amazing mental abilities – though not quite so amazing as what Lucy displays – such as the guy who can draw a detailed picture of an entire city after flying over it in a helicopter once, or point to some of the experiments that have been done with stimulating different portions of the brain, or things like synesthesia.
But those abilities usually come at the cost of other abilities and functions of the brain.  They don’t really indicate that someone is using any more – or less – of his or her brain’s potential, just that the existing potential is being used differently.
Let’s get back to the movie itself for a moment.  At one point in her march towards 100% Lucy states that she no longer feels pain or fear.  That, to me, indicates that she’s actually using less of her brain’s potential.
Why, you may wonder, does this bother me so much?  After all, I’m perfectly capable of suspending my disbelief.  I regularly consume – and enjoy – stories about men, women, aliens, robots, and gods who can fly, control the weather, and perform all manner of impossible feats.  Why couldn’t I just let this particular trope slide, the way I do things like, “He was born on another planet and our yellow sun supercharges his cells,” or “He has a magic hammer,” or, to go back to the mention of Dr. Manhattan, “He was disintegrated in a nuclear reactor and then put himself back together, developing godlike abilities in the process,” or hell, even the “metagene” from the DCU or the “X gene” from Marvel?
I suppose it’s a combination of things.  For one, it’s just really overused.  It ranks up there with “all of humanity’s technological achievements are based on reverse-engineered alien technology.”  For another, it bleeds over into real-life in a way that some of those other things don’t.  I’m unlikely to meet someone who actually believes that someone being bitten by a radioactive spider will do anything other than lead to radiation poisoning, but there are plenty of people who honestly believe the 10% thing.
(The alien technology thing bothers me for similar reasons, though a real-world belief in that is somewhat less common, but the main reason it bothers me is because it’s insulting.  I’m not always humanity’s biggest fan, but I know better than to think that we’re incapable of coming up with brilliant ideas on our own.  People often suck, but they’re also pretty amazing.  Which is why I get so irritated when they suck.  But I digress.)
But that’s why it irritates me in general.  In the specific case of this movie, it was because of how thoroughly invested they were in this bogus idea.  If the 10% thing had just been a quick handwave explanation for her having these powers, I would have been able to just roll my eyes, and then go with it.  But they didn’t stop there.  At various points, we were informed of what percentage Lucy was at, and there were extended scenes featuring Morgan Freeman, as some sort of brain “expert,” giving a lecture about the 10% myth as though it were some sort of credible scientific theory.
While Freeman’s character does, when questioned, admit that it has no scientific basis – which, leads you to wonder why he’s being allowed to lecture on this in front of scientists and science students without being booed off the stage, and instead being greeted with rapt attention and fawning praise – he rattles off ideas about what powers a person might have upon achieving certain percentage points.  Which, of course, aligns exactly with the powers that Lucy develops.  Still, just using some weasel words about it being his hypothesis isn’t good enough, given that he has nothing on which to base this hypothesis.  As I said to Scott during one of the lecture scenes, “And if I reach 30% of the way up my ass, I can pull out this speculation about what kind of powers people would have if they used more of their brain's potential.”
Honestly, the lecture scenes – which would have been even more interminable if they weren’t intercut with action sequences in which Lucy displays the abilities Morgan Freeman pulls out of his ass – reminded me of something you might see in an anti-evolution Chick tract, minus the Bible-believing freshman who stands up and demolishes the misguided scientist’s theories.  Which is to say that it was a lecture that had only a superficial resemblance to reality and involved someone spotting off nonsense to a room full of credulous idiots.  It’s like setting up a strawman and then forgetting to knock him down.
With that said, there were elements of the movie that I enjoyed, with some really cool action sequences, and Johansson doing a great job of portraying the shift in Lucy’s personality as she continued developing her potential.
Honestly, unlike the human brain, the movie had a lot more potential that it could have tapped into.  Dropping the lecture scenes would have helped, though much of that was included for the purposes of including some sort of pseudo-intellectual ramblings about the meaning of life and the nature of humanity, which I’m sure seemed deep and meaningful to some people – particularly given that they were imbued with the gravitas that comes from being spoken by Morgan Freeman – but ultimately they had no substance.
And just coming up with a different explanation – anything* – for how Lucy developed her abilities would have made it the kind of movie that would let you say, “It was good for what it was.”  But you can’t really say that about it, because its attempt to be more than what it was proved to be an insurmountable obstacle.
Also, they really should have gone the Dr. Manhattan route when it came to Johansson’s wardrobe.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that Scott and I did a double feature that night, and “Lucy” ended up being the second movie of the night, following our viewing of “Guardians of the Galaxy.”
Pretty much any movie was going to suffer in comparison to that one, so my perception of the quality of “Lucy” was probably a bit skewed.
”Guardians,” unlike “Lucy,” is definitely a movie that is “good for what it is,” with “awesomely entertaining” being what it is.
It’s already making all of the money, and it deserves to, but if “all of the money” does not yet include yours, you need to make some changes in your life.  Use more than 10% of your brain and go see it.

*For example, they could have used a variant of the alien technology trope that I dislike and said that the drug was made from alien DNA, and it wouldn’t have bothered me if they had just stuck with that as the launching point to kick off a bunch of mind-bending action and didn’t dwell on it overmuch.

Friday Night Randomness

Last week Scott and I went to see the new Godzilla movie.  I really liked the parts that prominently featured the titular King of All Monsters…which is to say that I liked about 5% of the movie.
I will say that there is an interesting movie to be made focusing on the lives of the people impacted by the devastation caused by giant, rampaging monsters, especially if it’s one that has the features the caliber of talent that was found in Godzilla…but that’s not the movie I paid to see.
Also:  too damn many kids.
I described the movie to Scott as being “Godzilla-adjacent.”
But given the success of the movie, which led to the already-announced sequel, I’m definitely in the minority on this one.

***

One of the main characters in the movie was played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson, star of the Kick-Ass movies, whom I totally didn’t recognize.  His wife in the movie was played by Elizabeth Olsen.  I was amused by this, as he will be portraying Quicksilver in Avengers 2, and Olsen will be playing The Scarlet Witch.  I just found it kind of funny, as in this movie they played a husband and wife, while in their upcoming roles they’ll be portraying siblings.
It actually gives their upcoming roles an Ultimates vibe…

***

On the topic of Quicksilver, thanks to a strange arrangement involving movie rights, Quicksilver was also able to appear in X-Men:  Days of Future Past, which Scott and I saw earlier today, and I have to say that, despite how goofy he looked in publicity photos, he was pretty awesome.
Overall, I think Singer and company did a very good job of adapting a classic story from the comics given the characters and the particular version of the X-verse they’ve constructed in the movies, but in a lot of ways it kind of suffers in comparison to the source material.
One thing the movie did have going for it, though, was that, unlike the original story, written at a time when the character didn’t exist, was the presence of Blink.  Just seeing her on the screen made me happy, though I can’t really articulate why.  It also helped that, as presented, she was pretty awesome.  Which is how it should be.

***

At work there are signs all over the place stating that “ID Badges Must Be Visible At All Times,” yet people ignore them.  This annoys me.  Not because people are breaking the rules – I don’t particularly care about that – but because not having them out and visible leads to me witnessing the same scene every day, usually with the same people, as the flagrant rule-breakers are rushing towards the entrance in the morning and are then stopped short and forced to rummage through their purses or laptop bags to dig out their IDs in order to let themselves into the building.
If you followed the rules, your badge would always be readily-accessible!
…
I don’t know why that annoys me so much, but it does.  I guess just because it’s the same people doing the same goddamn thing day after day after day.

***

Speaking of “day after day,” once a song shuffles into rotation on my iPod, which spends its life plugged into my alarm clock, it tends to be the song that wakes me up for a long stretch of time, as I never hit snooze, so the song only plays for a few seconds at a time.
For the past week or so the song that’s been waking me up is Nick Cave’s “Where Do We Go Now But Nowhere?”
This morning, that resulted in me being awoken by Nick singing, “Wake up, my love, my lover wake up.”
Awkward.
Listen, Nick, we’re just friends, okay?
On the other hand, it will be utterly appropriate when the day comes upon which I’m awoken by the words, “Gloomily, mournfully, we go ‘round again, and one more doomed time, and without much hope, going ‘round and around to nowhere…”

***

Still, I do like it when there’s a certain synchronicity with lyrics, such as when I’m awoken by the song “Wake Up” by Mad Season, or “Wake Up Dead” by Megadeth…

***

As I pulled in to the parking garage by the theater today I noticed a security guard on a Segway and thought, “Huh.  That’s new.”
When I was walking out of the parking garage, he began chatting me up about my car.  Apparently he’s something of a CX-5 fanboy.  It was all kind of…odd, particularly with the way he was just sort of bobbing up and down on the Segway while we talked.

***

A while back on my way out to my car in the morning a deer went rushing past me.  It happened so quickly that it took me several seconds to figure out what had just happened.
The other day while I was out on the smoking deck at work, I was nearly hit by another deer, which was, frankly, even more unexpected than the one that dashed through my yard.
The next day on the way out to the smoking deck I encountered an apparently suicidal field mouse that seemed determined to get stepped on.
I managed to avoid any random animal encounters today.

Ehh, I’d Buy THAT For A Dollar, I Guess

While circumstances prevented us from doing so sooner, last night Scott and I took in a showing of the Robocop remake.
I have to say that I enjoyed it a lot more than I expected to, though to be fair, they did kind of stack the deck a little in terms of casting, what with Gary Oldman, Samuel L. Mother-Fuckin’ Jackson, and Michael Keaton – whom I discovered that I’ve forgiven for the godawful Batman movies he was in; I still hate them, but I’ve dropped my grudge against him – though the actual title character was just sort of…there.  Never heard of the guy before.
With the original, Peter Weller was already a personal favorite, thanks to his role in Buckaroo Banzai.
(Plus, the original also had Grig from The Last Starfighter)
Was it as good as the original?  Well, the two movies were made in very different times – and to be fair, the original has nostalgia on its side – and took a very different approach to telling the story of a man who struggles to regain and hold onto what little of his humanity remains after his body and mind are rebuilt, but…no, it wasn’t.
Still, it was entertaining, and while it didn’t take the same sort of satirical approach as the original, the elements of satire it did contain were pretty well-done  (though I will say that it was kind of jarring to see the kind of conservative anger that’s pretty much the exclusive province of white guys being delivered by a black guy, but if anyone could do it, it’s Samuel L. Mother-Fuckin’ Jackson).
In any case, in one scene relatively early on in the movie we’re introduced to Gary Oldman’s character, the genius doctor behind the cybernetic technology used to transform Alex Murphy into Robocop.
He’s consulting with a patient, a classical guitarist who lost his hands in an accident and is having difficulty coming to terms with his new, improved bionic hands.
Later – and this is one of the areas in which the remake departs radically from the original, though the relative lack of violence and the PG-13 rating are the biggest departures – Robocop/Murphy returns home to visit his family, and his son is reluctant to approach his Robodad.
…
Two things.
If it were possible to replace my hands with bionic versions that are at least as functional as the factory defaults I’m stuck with, I would be looking for the nearest thresher accident.
Seriously, I have no interest in getting something like a nose job, I would totally be up for getting a hand job if it were possible to get cybernetic replacements as an elective procedure, at least once the technology – as it is in the movie’s futuristic setting – is at the right level.
(Note:  I’d also be perfectly happy to accept a hand job of the more traditional, less technologically-advanced variety)
I mean, if nothing else, maybe the guitarist can’t keep playing guitar, but he could always pick up the holophoner.
Then there was the kid.
After observing his reaction to his upgraded dad, I leaned over to Scott and said, “His kid sucks.”
I mean, I loved my dad very much.
The only way I could have loved him more is if he had also been a robot.
Seriously.
Your dad is a fucking robot. 
That?
Is awesome.
At a minimum, it would be the ultimate resolution to all playground disputes.
”My dad and beat up your dad!”
”Well, my dad is a fucking robot.  So…no, he can’t.”

Random Bits Of Randomness

Taxonomy Department:Scott and I have decided that henceforth all movie sequels should follow this naming convention:
If it’s the first sequel, it must be subtitled “Electric Boogaloo.”
If it’s the second sequel (third movie in the series), the subtitle should be the title of the movie with an “ing” added to it.
Examples:  “Taken 2:  Electric Boogaloo”  “Taken 3:  The Takening.”
Moviemakers are free to subtitle any additional sequels however they see fit, because, frankly, who cares after that?  By the time you hit the fourth movie it’s just a phoned-in money grab.
Additionally, subtitling the first sequel “The Wrath of [Title']” is also acceptable.  (“Taken 2:  The Wrath of Taken.”)
This why, even though it was a terrible movie, I want to see sequels for “The Happening,” so that we can see posters for “The Happening 2:  Electric Boogaloo” and “The Happening 3:  The Happeninging.”

In Case You Hadn’t Guessed Department:
Scott and I went to see “Taken 2.*”  I never really tire of watching Liam Neeson kill people with ruthless efficiency.

Less Chat, More Bloodletting Department:Guy Drawing My Blood (GDMB):  You ready for the weekend?
Me:  Sure.
GDMB:  Going to watch any games?
Me:  No.
GDMB:  Going to watch the debate tonight?
Me:  Probably not. (Thinking)  Stop trying to find common ground with me, hu-man.
Certifiably Professional Department:
Another week, another pointless professional certification:  ITIL Intermediate Certificate in Service Transition.
If I collect eight more certifications I can…take another certification exam.

Sounds Like This Guy I Know Department:
(Former) Boss:  He just thinks he’s smarter than everyone else.
Me:  I know someone like that.  In fact, I see him right now, standing there in that mirror in front of me.
Me:  The difference is that the guy in the mirror actually is smarter than everyone else.

I Don’t Know Who I Am Anymore Department:
As can be inferred by the Department above, I had a diabetes check up today.
It was kind of odd – and it feels odd to cite this as an example of it being odd – in that the doctor didn’t really do many of the things he usually does, like feel up my feet.
Normally he does that to test to see if there’s been any loss of sensitivity due to neuropathy.  I kind of dislike it, particularly when he scrapes some sort metal implement along my soles to see if I react.  Naturally, I do, as it’s uncomfortable.  Beyond that, I’m just not particularly fond of having someone touch my feet. 
He also taps a tuning fork and then presses that against my ankles and asks me to tell him when I feel the vibrations stop.
But he didn’t do any of that, and while I certainly didn’t miss it, it seemed odd that he didn’t do it for the first time in the two and a half years that I’ve been going in for check ups.
I suppose that, at this point, given my history, there’s not much need to be concerned about it.  He said, “A lot of people would actually say you’re cured.  I know better than to say that, because it can always pop up again, but you’re in very good shape right now.”
In any case, having fasted the night before, and being in Ashburn, due to a scheduling snafu, I decided to stop somewhere for breakfast/lunch.
There’s a Five Guys near the medical center, so I considered that, but I was in more of a breakfast mood, so I opted instead to stop at the nearby IHOP.
As I looked over some of the decadent menu items – French Toast drizzled with cinnamon roll glaze, for example – I found my eyes gravitating towards one of their healthier, lower-calorie breakfast items, which is what I actually ended up ordering.
As I told Scott, “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
But at least I had a side of bacon, so I’m not a total stranger to myself.

Bad News, Good(?) News Department:
The Bad News:  While I was waiting for the doctor I read an article in a diabetes magazine that said that, thanks to having suffered from diabetes, the odds that I’ll develop some form of dementia when I get older are greatly increased.
The Good News:  Thanks also to the diabetes, my heart will probably give out long before that happens.

*Electric Boogaloo.

Quick(ish) Shots (*Groan*)

I’ve probably mentioned this here before, but if I were a billionaire, beyond doing a lot of the standard things that people say they would do if they were to suddenly find themselves among the world’s richest – quitting my job, giving to charity, etc. – I would invest a significant amount of money into funding research designed for the sole purpose of giving me super powers.
I’m not joking when I say that.
I don’t really believe that it’s possible to develop super powers, but with that much money, why not pursue even the slimmest hope? Besides, I’m sure that other benefits would arise from such research, so why not?
Of course, I’m not a billionaire, and it’s unlikely that I’ll ever be even a millionaire, so it’s all irrelevant anyway.
However, if I had somewhat more money than I have now, I would consider hiring someone to come in and catalogue and archive my comics for me.
When Scott came over on Wednesday, we whiled away the time while watching movies by bagging and boarding all of the comics I’ve bought since I last bagged, boarded, and archived my collection. Based on the number of bags and boards left over, the total was somewhat less than 100 comics, but trying to organize even that number and squeeze them into the drawer boxes with the other comics was a hassle, one which I didn’t complete, and which I would happily pay someone else to do for me.

****

Speaking of not becoming a millionaire or billionaire, my new year at work got off to a pretty bumpy start.
From April up until a few months ago, the bane of my existence was this piece of busywork known as the Flash Report, a report that I – and one other person – had to put together every week and present to our executive leadership. When they finally hired someone solely for the purpose of doing the Flash Report and I had transitioned out of the role, I breathed a happy sigh.
Unfortunately, that person has been moved onto another project, and I’ve been roped back into working on the Flash Report.
In all honesty, I probably wouldn’t mind doing the Flash Report so much – even though it is a lot of work – if I wasn’t also expected to keep performing my actual job (whatever that is).
I keep being told that “at least it’s good visibility for you.” I guess that’s true, but so far I haven’t seen any benefit from that visibility, and, really, what good does it do me to be “visible” to our Senior Vice President when he seems to be convinced that he’s seeing someone named Jim?

****

Also on the work front, starting tomorrow my boss is no longer my boss, as she’s been moved to another position (along with one of my co-workers). We don’t have a new boss yet, and we don’t really know if we’re just going to get a different boss and continue doing what we’ve been doing, get merged with another group and continue doing what we’ve been doing, or if we will continue doing what we’ve been doing.
In any case, I like my boss a lot, and our team has really “clicked” over the last several months, so I’m going to miss her and the cohesiveness of our team.

****

While I’ve seen a couple of the sequels, I’d never watched the original Death Wish until I recorded it off of Cinemax the other night.
It was…interesting, and sort of thought-provoking.
And quip-provoking. (Spoilers, I guess, for a movie that’s nearly as old as I am) When Bronson decided to stick with the vigilante thing even after the cops had figured out who he was and basically told him they’d give him a pass on the killings provided that he put his gun away, I said, to no one, since there was no one else here, “I guess murder is like eating Pringles; once you pop you can’t stop.”
The movie raised a lot of questions about the nature of civilized society, all sorts of “slippery slope” problems, and I was kind of disappointed in its failure to really explore those themes.
Really, it was just an extended version of that joke that states that “a Liberal is just a Conservative who hasn’t been mugged yet.”
One thing that stood out about the movie, though – apart from a young Jeff Goldblum wearing a Jughead hat – was that even though it was made nearly 40 years ago, it had a scene focusing on that old Conservative chestnut about the Liberals taking away our guns, making it seem as though it was a foregone conclusion and was going to happen any minute now (kind of like The Rapture).
Nearly forty years later, guns are still plentiful and readily available, yet people are still…err…shooting off about this.
Okay, sure, there are waiting periods and other restrictions, but it’s still possible to purchase and own firearms.
And really, can anyone point me to any real, concerted effort to take away your guns that’s ever had widespread support? Almost a year after he was sworn in, has Obama made any sort of move towards your guns? At all? Like so many people said he was going to?
I’m not really trying to get political here, but I guess I just want to say that, sure, maybe you feel that you need to keep a watchful eye on your Constitutional rights, and, you know, that’s all well and good, but maybe you shouldn’t get quite so…*Sigh*…up in arms about it unless and until someone actually legitimately does try to infringe on your rights.
Just a thought.
For the record, while I don’t own a gun myself, I do support the rights of citizens to own guns because a. it’s in the Constitution and b. Sweeping gun control laws would never work.
Personally, I’ve never really seen the appeal of guns.
When we were in line at the concession stand when we were seeing Avatar, Scott and Casey were talking about guns and the shooting range, and Scott turned to me and said, “Have you ever shot a gun? I’m sure you have, growing up in Michigan.”
I nodded and said, “I’ve killed things.”
“Oh, right, hunting.”
And I thought, “Yeah…hunting. Sure, that’s the ticket.”
I kid, I kid.
But yeah, I grew up in a house with guns, took a hunter’s safety class, and hunted.
In going hunting I learned something: I have no interest in hunting.
Or, more specifically, I have no interest in killing things for fun. And as for shooting guns…meh.
It just doesn’t do anything for me.
And, again, not really faulting anyone who is into guns or hunting or whatever, I’m just talking about my own experiences.
I suppose a lot of that is my dad’s influence. He’d been a hunter most of his life, but one day when I was still relatively young he went out into the woods, spotted a deer, had the shot lined up in his sights, looked at the deer, decided he just didn't have the heart for it, and never hunted again.
So for me, hunting was never any sort of father-son bonding experience, and honestly, the first time I ever heard him tell someone that story about not taking the shot when he had it – and was greeted with an uncomprehending stare in response – it made me respect him.
So why did I bother trying hunting when I came of age? Well, it’s sort of expected where I grew up, and there have been random times in my life when I’ve attempted – without success, obviously – to be normal.
Hell, there was even a period when I tried watching football in an effort to force myself to learn to like it.
It didn’t take.
I actually attribute a lot of my lack of interest in sports to my dad as well. I mean, he was into sports – basketball was his game – but again, it wasn’t a father-son bonding thing for us, in large part because watching sports was something my dad only did if he had the time for it, and usually he didn't.
Of course, I suppose it all boils down to the fact that my dad wasn't the kind of person who would try to force his kids to follow a specific path.
I suppose you might wonder, then, “Well, what did you and your dad bond over? Did you bond?”
In answer to the second question, yes. As to what we bonded over, it’s hard to say, but I think having a similar sense of humor played a big part in it. And we did spend a fair amount of time together working.
Anyway, back to Death Wish. One of the things that made the movie such a hit, and inspired so many terrible sequels, is that it plugged directly into an idea that is at the core of a lot of people, which is the belief that, when all else fails, they will stand up and be heroes and do what needs to be done, the rules of society be damned.
It’s obviously a powerful belief, and is one that causes movies like Death Wish to resonate.
How much bearing that belief has on reality is another question entirely, and I’m sure there are as many answers to it as there are people.
Still, a while ago, while thinking about this subject, I came up with the following, which I think may be my finest comedic construction : Most men like to think that, below the surface veneer of civilized behavior, at their core, they’re just like Charles Bronson in Death Wish, but the reality is that most of them, underneath it all, are more like Charles Nelson Reilly on The Match Game.

Haven't I Seen This Before?

So yesterday I saw Dances With Wolves Ferngully Pocahantas Avatar.
The visuals were amazing - especially in IMAX 3D (at least when my eyes, which are rather hit-or-miss with 3D, were working properly) - but beyond that...
It really didn't have a lot going for it besides the visuals and was weighed down by a cliche-ridden plot.
As I put it to Scott afterwards, apparently James Cameron decided to take everything he's ever seen, read, or heard and put it all into a movie.
But, to be fair, I wasn't really expecting much more than amazing visuals, so I can't exactly call it a failure, and I was entertained by it.
It just would have been nice if, along with the trailblazing visuals, Cameron had opted to tread some new ground with the story as well.
(The story: white man goes to live amongst savages, white man falls in love with the chief's daughter, white man learns the ways of the savages, white man turns against his own people - who, naturally, are eeeeeevvvvillllll, because guess what: sometimes "civilized" people are the most savage of all! Irony! - to protect the way of life of the savages.)
It's definitely worth seeing, but don't get your hopes up in thinking that, underneath the flashy surface, you'll actually be seeing anything new.

Frustration

Thanks to everyone - all one of you* - who suggested possible titles. I actually sought out assistance in the Comments over at Slacktivist and went with one of the suggestions from someone there: Blood Drift.
Even after switching to the different wireless adapter, Munin continued to exhibit the problems it had been having under Windows 7.
I decided that the thing to do was to restore it to factory condition, download a BIOS update that I didn't think to download before upgrading - and which wouldn't run under Windows 7 - and some firmware updates for the hard drive and DVD drive, then try a clean install of Windows 7.
During one of the brief periods in which I had Internet connectivity I found a newer driver for the built-in wireless adapter, but installing that didn't fix the problem.
That didn't really surprise me, as it was clear that the problem was bigger than just that one driver, as no USB device connected to the computer would work properly.
Attempting to copy files to an external hard drive, for example, would result in the transfer eventually stalling out and the hard drive light actually turning off. The drive would still appear to be accessible - I could explore it, but not actually open any files on it - but clearly wasn't working.
This was actually a major fly in the ointment, as I needed to back up my internal hard drive before doing the factory restore, which reformats the drive and erases everything on it.
After several vain attempts to get the files copied over to my external drive I finally hit upon an idea: download an .iso of some Linux distro, burn a CD, boot from that, and copy the files over to the external drive.
So I found some random distro, burned it to CD, booted...and found that it didn't have drivers for my display, so once it actually loaded up I couldn't see anything.
Undaunted (well, somewhat daunted), I found a distro of Ubuntu Linux, burned the .iso, booted from that, and success!
With that accomplished, I dug out my recovery CDs, booted up...and realized that I didn't actually need the CDs, as the recovery files are stored in a partition on the hard drive and I could have just hit F11 during bootup to run the recovery from there.
Worse, I completely forgot that the restore process actually gives you an opportunity to run a back-up before proceeding, so it's possible I could have skipped the whole Linux process (though I'm not 100% sure on that; choosing to "Backup Now" might have just booted me back into Windows, where the backing up wouldn't have worked, given the USB communications issues.)
After doing the factory restore I found that my BIOS was actually up to date anyway.
*Sigh*
It was very late by this time, though, so I waited until this morning to reinstall Windows 7.
This time around the problem with the wireless adapter appeared right away.
I didn't even bother trying to download the new driver.
Instead I opted to disable the adapter and pick up one of those power line networking kits.
It actually works pretty well. You hook one adapter up to the router, then plug it into the wall outlet. Then you take the other adapter, hook it up to the computer you want to add to the network, plug it into the wall outlet, and voila, the network signal is traveling through the electrical wiring in the house. So far with that method I'm able to network Munin without the problems I was having with the wireless adapter(s).
I may buy another adapter so that I can hook my Blu-ray player and media extender up to the network (it's faster than the wireless connection my media extender currently has, and the Blu-ray player doesn't have wireless).
So it took more than a week, but it seems that - knock on wood - I finally have Windows 7 running properly and can now actually enjoy some of the new features.
Apart from messing around with Windows 7 and doing the usual comic book and grocery shopping, in the late afternoon/early evening I decided to bail on any trick-or-treaters and see a movie. Unlike last year, when I bailed on them but left candy - which some little bastard promptly stole, apparently - this year I said, "Screw you, kids!' and left nothing.
The movie in question was Zombieland, which was freakin' hilarious.
I'm not sure how much posting I'll be doing for the next month, as I'll be working on the novel trying to churn out 50,000 words in 30 days.
This time around will be more of a challenge than the other two times, as I don't have as much free time as I did back then, what with the four days off (and having time to actually write while I was at work), and I really want to write something that's at least halfway decent this time around. Of course, that's what I wanted to do the other two times, and that really didn't work out, so I'm not terribly confident that this year will be different.
In any case, I'm not going to blog my chapters as I write them like I did the first time around, though, unless it turns out to be complete garbage (there's a better than average chance of that), I will probably share it in some fashion once I'm finished.

*I'm honestly not bitter about the lack of comments in the Comments. I'm a realist; I know how little traffic this blog gets and how little there is to actually comment on. Seriously, I'm not bitter. Well, not terribly bitter, at any rate. I mean, it does bother me a little when I explicitly ask for comments and don't get any (other than from Scott), but it's not like I expected any, so I guess it all works out.

Ditched By The Cool Kids

Not that it really bears mentioning, but yesterday was my ex-wife’s birthday.
I didn’t really think about her much; after all, it’s been a long damn time and the whole mess is a bit of the past that I prefer to keep in the past, so I don’t often think of her anyway.
The only reason I mention it now is that, as I started writing this, the song Rotten Apple by Alice In Chains, from the album Jar of Flies, shuffled on in Windows Media Player, and the song – and indeed, the entire album – invariably brings her to mind.
Why? Well, there are a few reasons. For one, she and I both really liked it, and it was in regular rotation in our car’s CD player. For another, on the last anniversary we spent together, one of the gifts she gave me was a Jar of Flies T-shirt.
(The other gift was the Suicidal Tendencies CD Suicidal for Life. She’d bought the CD, opened it, and put it playing in the car before picking me up from work that evening to see how long it would take me to notice. I noticed as soon as I got in the car. For the life of me, I can’t remember what I bought her. Whatever it was, she probably didn’t like it.)
The other reason it makes me think of her is that it was sort of emblematic of a character trait of mine that, for whatever reason, always drove her up the wall.
Basically, she hated it when I would change my mind about...well, anything, really.
I suppose that she wished that I were more decisive, that I would set a course and resolutely stick to it.
Or maybe she was just nuts.
Either way.
In any case, one day, shortly after Jar of Flies came out we were at the mall and she asked me if I wanted to pick it up. For some reason – probably because we were dirt poor and a CD, even a lower-priced EP, counted as a major purchase – I said no.
Later that evening I was listening to the college radio station and Rotten Apple came on, I thought it was awesome, and decided that I’d make a mistake when I said no, and the next day I told her as much.
She got mad at me for changing my mind, but eventually she gave in and we bought it.
So yeah, the album, and especially that song, always brings her to mind.
Anyway, I hadn’t intended to write about that when I fired up Word, so I suppose I should move on to what I was going to write about.
At work we’re in the process of moving into a new building. The way things are now, most of the employees are spread out between three different buildings, so we opted to have one big new building that could house all of us constructed so that we could be under one roof like a big happy family.
They started moving people over to the new digs last week. People are being moved in groups of about 200, based on what floor they’ll be on in the new place.
My group will be moving next Friday. Basically we have to have all of our stuff packed up and labeled by 3:00 PM next Thursday, at which point we’re expected to get the hell out of the movers’ way, and then show up bright and early at the new place on Friday morning.
At our staff meeting last week my boss pointed out that moving is always a good excuse to get rid of accumulated junk that you no longer need, so it was decided that this week, in lieu of a staff meeting, we would all go out to lunch and then spend the rest of the afternoon purging ourselves of those things we no longer needed. A binge and purge day.
So today, a bit before noon, we met at a nearby Fridays for lunch. Well, some of us did. Most everyone else was late.
I had to eat and head back to the office before 1 in order to be at the Flash Report meeting (My contribution this week: The introduction of the character of Barry Allen is widely considered to be the starting point of the Silver Age of Comics, and also served as the introduction of the concept of multiple earths. Okay, not really. I mean, yes, all of that is true, but that was not what I put on the Flash Report.).
So I quickly ate my lunch, headed back to the office, grabbed some things from my cubicle, and headed to the conference room just in time.
Just in time to find the room dark and empty.
I went back to my cube to check my mail to see if there had been a change, or if the meeting had been canceled, but there was nothing about it in my inbox, so I went in search of some of the other attendees, but they were nowhere to be found.
I headed back to my cube once more and dialed into the conference bridge and found that the meeting was being held at the new building and no one had bothered to tell me.
So, as has happened so many times in my life, I found myself getting ditched by the cool kids.
Oh well.
After that I set to work on some purging, then took advantage of summer hours and took off at 3.
Once I got home I sat down to watch some recorded episodes of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report, then noticed that I had a message from Verizon in my set-top box’s inbox telling me that there’s a free preview of HBO/Cinemax this weekend. So I started checking that out and ended up watching Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
After that I flipped over to HDNet Movies and watched the end of Donnie Darko, which struck me as silly, given that I actually own the movie and could watch the whole thing any time I want.
Then I saw that Army of Darkness was coming on next, which is another movie I own, but when Army of Darkness is on, I can’t not watch it. I think there’s actually a law.
So I obeyed the law and watched it, and, as always, it was teh awesome.
And after that, I wrote this.
And posted it.

Grinding To A Halt

I woke up around 10:30 this morning still feeling tired, but I decided that I should probably get up if I was going to accomplish any of the things I had planned.
Of course, I did spend a fair amount of time sitting around doing nothing in particular for a while, so it was nearly 1 PM by the time I ventured out into the world.
First order of business was to hit up the comic shop. Due to the holidays, new comics hadn’t been available since the week before Christmas, so I had two weeks’ worth of books stacked up and waiting for me.
After that it was on to finally get the haircut that I’d been putting off for weeks.
Once I got to the barbershop, though, I wanted to postpone it once again, as the place was filled to overflowing with parents bringing in their broods for assorted trimmings.
I think that the owners’ children, who are always huddled off in a corner watching TV, coloring, and playing video games all day, were glad to have the company, but I could have done with a little less noise, and a bit less of a wait.
While I was waiting there was some lady who was attempting to reward her kids for being remarkably good and sitting amazingly still while getting their hair cut with some candy from one of the gumball machine-style candy dispensers. She was digging through her pockets in the vain pursuit of a quarter as I sat there playing Bubble Breaker on my phone. As she wasn’t able to find one, I dug in my pocket, pulled out a quarter, and said, “Ma’am? Here you go,” thus accomplishing my good deed for the year.
I’m glad I got that out of the way early.
After finally getting my turn, I decided that I really wasn’t that inclined to gas up and go grocery shopping, as I wasn’t actually in desperate need to do either, so I decided to just grab a sandwich from Quiznos and head home.
Thinking that I could have half for lunch and the other half for supper, I bought a large sub. That plan fell apart as soon as I got home and scarfed down the first half, which led inexorably to doing the same with the second half.
I guess I’ll find something around the house to eat for supper.
Eventually, after doing some more sitting around and doing nothing in particular, I decided to take a nap, but I wasn’t especially successful, getting in maybe 15 minutes’ worth of napping out of an hour’s worth of lying in the bed.
And now here I am writing this.
I didn’t do a whole lot yesterday. I worked from home, as I did for pretty much most of the week, and at some point near the end of the day, noting that I had pretty much nothing to drink except Coke I ventured out to Super Target to get some green tea and Vitamin Water. I picked up a couple of snacks as well, which is why I didn’t really need to go grocery shopping today.
And of course realizing that today the place would be even more crowded than it was yesterday afternoon did a lot to dissuade me from heading over there.
The most noteworthy thing I did yesterday was finally getting around to watching the Grindhouse movies Planet Terror and Death Proof.
Planet Terror, a zombie movie, was okay, but Death Proof was just boring.
My primary complaint about both movies is that the whole grindhouse style is meant to be sleazy, cheap, and exploitative, with lots of sex, nudity, and over-the-top violence. They both delivered on the violence (and accompanying gore), but they were a little too slick to be considered sleazy or cheap – I think that’s a result of them trying to make intentionally sleazy, cheap-looking movies – and neither one delivered in the sex and nudity categories.
In Planet Terror we had Rose McGowan playing a classic Hollywood trope: the stripper who doesn’t strip. While they tried to get around this by explaining that she was not a stripper, but rather a Go Go Dancer, it still brought to mind some words of wisdom found at What Would Tyler Durden Do? There’s a word to describe strippers who don’t take off their clothes. That word is “fired.”
Of course, one could hardly expect Rose McGowan to appear nude in a film, as she’s the shy retiring flower who wore a fishnet dress and a G-string to an award ceremony (link NSFW).
She does have a sex scene, but is artfully posed throughout so as to prevent us from seeing too much. After all, you wouldn’t want gratuitous nudity in a grindhouse movie.
I think the primary cause of the non-nudity with McGowan is that during the filming of the movie writer-director Robert Rodriguez began having an affair with her. So his approach was to show her off in skimpy outfits as if to say, “Yes, this is the hot young piece I’m leaving the mother of my children for,” but to avoid showing off too much of her.
I’m not intending to pronounce judgment on Rodriguez or McGowan for what happened between them. People cheat, there are two sides to every story, love conquers all, blah blah blah. I honestly don’t give a shit about any of that. My point didn’t have anything to do with making any judgments about the nature of their relationship; it just seemed to me that there was clear evidence of their personal relationship having an impact on the movie.
My other problem with Planet Terror was that there was some lesbian sub-text, but no lesbian text, which is always a negative in my book. If anything, I want to see lesbian super-text.
As for Death Proof, the Tarantino contribution, all of the T&A was fully-clothed T&A, and there was pretty much nothing in the way of sexual content.
That alone isn’t what made it boring, though. A lot of people apparently love Tarantino’s dialogue, though evidently no one loves it as much as Tarantino does.
Seriously, it seemed as though the movie had originally been intended to have a run time of about an hour and a half, and then Tarantino said, “Hmm…you know what this needs? Another half an hour of people sitting around talking about this movie I loved as a kid but that no one else has ever heard of,” and some yes man said, “Brilliant! You’ve done it again, sir,” instead of punching him in his giant head and saying, “Don’t be stupid.”
(I’ve long believed that any sort of creative endeavor needs to have someone filling the role of Head Puncher. It’s like an anti-sycophant, someone who will speak truth to power. And punch power in the head.)
Death Proof consisted almost entirely of people sitting around engaging in incredibly unlikely dialogue that included the obligatory references to all the obscure pop cultural trivial dancing around in Tarantino’s massive melon for long, long, long stretches at a time, briefly interspersed with some images of women being killed in a horrific fashion.
I don’t want to read too much into it, but it seems revelatory that he would spend as little time as possible actually showcasing the female form, but then be sure to include lingering, lovingly-crafted shots of women being killed in an incredibly grisly manner. In fact, we get multiple POV shots of the moment of death so that we can see, in detail, exactly how each woman buys the farm.
I’m just saying, while Rodriguez focused just as much (arguably even more, though that’s simply a function of the fact that stuff actually happened in his movie) on the violence part he did at least give a nod to the sex part of sex and violence, whereas Tarantino…
Well, whatever. I just personally tend to favor the sex part of sex and violence, to the point that, you know, maybe we can just leave the violence part out entirely.
And I’m not trying to rag on Tarantino; I’ve enjoyed much of his work.
Just not Death Proof.

I'm A Man Of Means By No Means

Wednesday was apparently “Family Movie Night” at Vicki’s school, so Scott had requested that we reschedule Riff Trax night for Thursday.
Then he suggested that in lieu of Riff Trax night we go to see The Day the Earth Stood Still, which we did yesterday evening.
I have to say that I don’t understand all the hate for the movie.
Was it a great movie? No, not really, but it was entertaining, had a good cast – for the most part; more on that in a bit –a decent story, and some good effects, so while there isn’t a lot to rave about, there really isn’t much to complain about either.
It does differ significantly from the original, but the original was made in the 1950s, so how could it not?
For the record, I can understand why the original is considered a classic; it is, as far as 1950s science fiction movies go, very good. It puts forth a lot of concepts that are rather old hat these days but were pretty innovative and original at the time.
Anyway, more than fifty years later the world is a very different place, so a more slavish remake wouldn’t have worked, which is why I wasn’t bothered by the changes and updates.
As for Keanu Reeves, the role of Klaatu was pretty much tailor-made for his…umm…talents. Flat, wooden delivery is what was called for, and it was what Keanu delivered. In spades. But it worked. In fact, it actually added something to the character in a lot of ways. It gave him a sort of understated charm.
Also, it’s always good to see John Cleese, so the movie had that going for it.
And, of course who can complain about Jennifer Connelly? However, I have to say that it’s saddened me to see that over the years she’s lost a lot of her voluptuousness. She still looks good, really good, but I kind of miss the figure she had in The Rocketeer.
Among the things that did bother me in the movie, though, was Will Smith’s son. I don’t know that it was necessarily anything to do with him; I think I just disliked the character.
Beyond that, I’m not really a fan of child characters (or actors) in movies in general, especially if they have a pivotal role (for no good reason other than to have a cute kid in the movie). There are exceptions of course, but a lot of times kids in movies feel tacked on. For me, that was the case in both the original and the remake, though I think it was an improvement in the remake that the kid didn’t get quite as much focus.
It was fun to make some snide comments with Scott about backhanding him, though. Child abuse: always good for a cheap laugh. (Well, not real child abuse, obviously.)
Another complaint I had was that at no time did anyone say Klaatu Barada Nickto. That seemed like a very foolish oversight/choice on the part of the filmmakers. Even if they weren’t used in the same context as in the original movie, they should have popped up somewhere along the line.
Also, there was a lot, and I mean, a lot, of really conspicuous product placement. One especially egregious moment was a one-two punch of bam! LG Shine! And while you’re still reeling from that, bam! Citizens watch!
I will say that while its prominence was distracting and kind of off-putting, the Microsoft Surface thing does actually look pretty cool*.
Finally, my other complaint was that Gort was so called as an acronym assigned by the military, rather than simply having it be his name.
In the original, and even moreso in the remake, Gort himself was awesome.
After the movie we decided to head back to my house to actually do the whole Riff Trax thing as well. To continue the Jennifer Connelly theme, we watched Dark Water, but before that, in the spirit of the season, we watched Nestor, the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey, which was a lesser-known – I certainly don’t remember it – Rankin-Bass Christmas special from the 70s.
The narrator sounded familiar, so Scott looked him up. Turns out it was Roger Miller, most known for his song King of the Road, from which this entry draws its title, as ever since Scott looked that up the song has been stuck in my head.
As we were both full of popcorn when we left the theater, we opted not to get any kind of dinner, and simply snacked on some candy bars as we watched the Riff Trax.
When I went to bed – later than usual – I found that I’d had too much caffeine, and while I wasn’t hungry, my stomach was kind of unsettled, so I didn’t sleep well and have been dogging it all day today.
Just to add insult to injury, when my alarm went off this morning I was dreaming that I was home from work and taking a nap. Yes, my internal life is just as exciting as my actual life and I do actually dream about sleeping.
Anyway, that pretty much brings you up to speed on what’s going on. And look, I went an entire entry without saying “fuck” even once!
What’s that? I just said it? Oh, fu-

*I will put together some further thoughts on Microsoft Surface in a future post.

I'm Going To Yemen

There was an episode of Friends years ago in which Chandler is trying to keep his ex, Janice, out of his life, and, rather than simply owning up to this, tells her that he will be unavailable for a long time, as his job is requiring that he travel to Yemen for an extended stay.
Things fall apart, though, when she insists on taking him to the airport and seeing him off. This was pre-9/11, so she’s able to accompany him all the way to the gate, steadfastly refusing to leave until his flight actually takes to the air. He tries to get the girl at the counter to “pretend” to give him a boarding pass and let him on the plane until Janice leaves, but it’s no good, and he ends up buying a ticket to Yemen, and, as Janice stands there watching, he says, in his Chanderly, semi-panicked way, “I’m going to Yemen,” and gets on the plane.
I’ve been saying, “I’m going to Yemen” to myself for the past few days, as, when it comes to the job offer I’ve actually received – but don’t especially want – I’ve been kind of feeling like Chandler waiting for Janice to leave so that he can bring the charade to an end when it comes to my current job situation.
I’ve been stalling the signing of the papers for the job I don’t want as long as I can in order to give the company that I do want to work for the opportunity to finally call me and make me an actual offer. But, just as Janice wouldn’t leave, they haven’t called, and so it looks like I’m going in to sign the papers on Monday morning and then starting work on Wednesday.
So that’s how I feel about the whole thing: like I’m going to Yemen.
I know that I should complain about having a job lined up when so many of my fellow ex-AOLers don’t, but it’s just that the other job, the one that I want, is so much better. Even if it paid less – which I don’t think it would – it would still be better. More interesting, actual benefits, etc.
*Sigh*
It’s just as well that I will be starting work, one way or another, as today was my last actual payday. Up next is my severance.
The good thing about the job I don’t want, though, is that the first 3-4 weeks are just training, not actual work. That way, if I finally do get the offer on the job I want, I’ll only be bailing on the training, which will make me feel marginally better about accepting a job and then saying “Screw this” when/if the better offer comes.
Of course, that’s assuming that I can bail without repercussions, as it is a contract job. I’ll be reading the paperwork very carefully, and if I find that I’m actually locked in, I’ll just turn it down on the spot and hope that the other job does come through soon (though I will have enough money to survive for a few months).
After hitting the comic shop today, Scott and I went to see The Golden Compass.
I went into it kind of ambivalent, knowing pretty much nothing about the source material, which is probably for the best as the low expectations left room for me to be pleasantly surprised.
Was it a great movie? No, but viewed as a standard CGI-driven fantasy piece, it was pretty decent. I was pleased that the girl at the center of it all was presented as being a likeable, fairly level-headed –if a bit headstrong – character who was actually clever and had none of the denseness that is so characteristic of a certain bespectacled wizard and his friends.
Most of the CGI was decent, though it sort of lacked the scope and scale of a Narnia or LOTR.
One thing that I found interesting was the sort of “connections” between some of the actors, as many of them had been in other movies together, such as Daniel Craig and Nicole Kidman, and Christopher Lee and Sir Ian McKellen (Who did his usual excellent job as he provided the voice of a bad-ass, armor-clad fighting polar bear. FYI – armored polar bear death matches = Teh Awesome.).
After the movie Scott looked up an actress who looked familiar but whom he could not place. Said actress was Eva Green, who had been in Casino Royale with Craig, so there was another connection.
Another thing the movie had going for it: Sam Elliott. Naturally he played pretty much the only thing he can play: an old cowboy. Honestly, what’s the point of having Sam Elliott in a movie if he’s not playing an old cowboy? It’d be like, I don’t know, not using the Internet for porn or something.
(For the record, as a non-cowboy, he was okay in Hulk, but he was far too restrained to play the part of General “Thunderbolt” Ross.)
Apparently the books were written by a staunch atheist, and were intended as something of an “anti-Narnia” set of stories. There have been a lot of complaints that the religious (or anti-religious) elements have been removed, but I can’t really speak to that, as I haven’t read the books.
Even without the anti-religious elements, though, there’s plenty for rabid fundies to get their panties in a wad about, such as magic, witches, and the “daemons” who serve as the companions to the people who live in that world.
But whatever.
Overall it was an okay, but not phenomenal, way to kill a couple of hours on a cold, dreary afternoon.
(And, once again, armored polar bear death matches = Teh Awesome, especially when they involve Sir Ian McKellen talking smack.)

Too Lazy

Too lazy to post a real entry.
I had Intro to Flash today. Interesting subject, but the teacher leaves much to be desired.
Scott and I had lunch over at the buffet at the grocery store across the street.
When I got home I watched a romantic comedy I'd recorded the other night.
(I recorded it ecause it was a romantic comedy with lesbians. Hot, movie-style lipstick lesbians, not the stocky, ditch-digging, flannel-wearing, be-mulleted variety of lesbians I've known in real life. Having lesbians in it is pretty much the only way to get me to watch a romantic comedy.)
It was cute, though not terribly steamy in the lesbian department.
(Though they were both hot, and, as mentioned, not even remotely like any lesbians I've known in real life, but to be fair they were also very much unlike any straight women I've known in real life.)
The movie was Imagine Me and You, for those of you wondering. I found it interesting in that it had Lena Headey (from 300) in it, as well as Anthony Head, who played Giles on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
(He had several great lines, including this one in answer to the quesion of how long he'd been married: Thirty years. If I'd killed her when I first thought about it, I'd be out already. A free man.)
And that was my day.
And that was my half-assed blog entry about it.

Like We Aren't All Fools During The Other 11 Months

So today is April Fools Day, though I seldom think of it in those terms, as for one thing it’s my sister Kim’s birthday, and for another it sort of marks the start of a rush of birthdays in my family, including my own.
I did the math the other day and figured out that if I’m going to be 35, that means that Kim would be 40 today, and so I went out in search of an appropriate birthday card, one that’s subdued and respectful.
There. I got my whole “April Fools” thing out of the way with that description of the card (if you believed it for even a second).
I’m not really in much of an April Fools mood anyway, as the next birthday up on the calendar would have been my dad’s on Tuesday.
He would have been 72.
Up after that is mine, then my brother Brad’s two day’s later.
We used to have another one, as my late aunt’s birthday was right in between mine and Brad’s. Also, if I recall correctly, my ex-mother-in-law’s birthday is in April.
Kathleen’s is 11 days after mine, and I pointed out to her – as if she didn’t know – that we’ll be 35 this year. That got me a very loud and somehow disbelieving “I know!” in response.
My friend Eric also has a birthday in April, but I must confess that I’ve never been able to remember the exact date. I know, I’m terrible.
As you can see over on his blog, Scott and I went to see TMNT on Tuesday. What he wrote pretty much covers my thoughts on the subject, though I was never actually into the comics.
He did, however, neglect to mention the fact that when we walked into the theater we were hit by an odd barnyard-like smell, which I likened to that of a 4H fair, as it was a distinct odor of hay and livestock.
It disappeared once we took our seats, but on the way out it was there again. Not sure what was or had been going on in that particular theater.
Scott and I also stopped at the comic book store on the way home from work on Thursday night. I spent a much more reasonable $15 this time around, though apparently somewhere between picking it up and adding it to my stack and actually paying for them I failed to buy the copy of the (second printing) of Captain America that I’d grabbed, as after I got home it was not in the bag and not listed on the receipt.
Because the store’s upcoming move closer to me will make it too far out of the way for Scott to swing by after work, he’s most likely going to take advantage of their subscription service and authorize me to pick his books up for him.
I might also do the subscription thing just to ensure that I always get what I want and so that I won’t have to make weekly trips.
This morning I watched the movie This Film Is Not Yet Rated, which I’d recorded last night.
It’s a documentary about the film rating system that brought to light some interesting information and made me realize that the film ratings system is even more arbitrary and retarded than I’d thought.
Ultimately what it boils down to is that portrayals of violence are okay, though portrayals of bloodless violence are even better, sex is bad, and any kind of sex outside of male-female missionary position sex is really bad.
Even more retarded than the ratings process, though, is the appeals process once your move has been rated.
One example of retardation is that you are not allowed to cite precedent.
For example, you can’t say, “My movie has one shot in which you can see one woman’s pubic hair and it was rated NC-17, but in the movie Porky’s you could see several women’s pubic hair, and that was rated R.”
If you were to try to compare your movie to another movie, essentially you would be told to shut up.
(Apparently, no doubt thanks in part to fallout from the movie, you are now able to cite other movies in the appeals process.)
What I was most struck by in watching the documentary, though, were the amazing parallels between the MPAA in movies and the CCA (Comics Code Authority) in comics.
That they are similar and share a rather common origin isn’t exactly news, but I was surprised at just how close the parallels were.
Ultimately I’m not as opposed to a rating system as perhaps I once was or as some people are, but I do think that it needs to be much less arbitrary, much less reactionary, and the process has to be a lot more transparent than it has been, and the system certainly shouldn’t be used to penalize filmmakers who refuse to toe the line.
Anyway, that was the excitement for today.
Tomorrow I have a dentist appointment, and no further plans for the week beyond that.
In any case, I hope all of you April Fools out there are having a good day.

Three Hundred (Counting These) Words About 300

So I went to see 300 today.
As I was certain I would, I thoroughly enjoyed it.
But historical accuracy? Not so much.
The same was true of the comics, but accuracy was never the point. The point is to tell a a good story, and to make it an overwhelming assault on your senses that leaves you dizzy and breathless. It’s not as faithful to Miller’s style as Sin City, but it is darkly humorous, macho, and unflinchingly and stylishly violent and quintessentially Miller.
Some critics faulted it for its machismo, but it’s a movie about Spartans for Christ’s sake: of course it’s going to be macho! You were expecting maybe a chick flick?
While the movie doesn’t aspire to be much more than an action-packed chest thumping epic, it does have some great non-action scenes, mostly focusing on Queen Gorgo, played by actress Lena Headey, who manages to look very hot despite the fact that the grainy, washed-out colors that recreate the look of the books aren’t exactly flattering to the skin.
One of the queen’s best moments actually happened off-screen in the audience.
On-screen, after being betrayed by the corrupt Theron (Dominic West) in front of the assembled Spartan Council, she hauls off and slaps him hard across the face. So hard, in fact, that it elicited a loud and shocked “Ohhh!” from some guy in the audience.
Like many others in the audience, I found it hilarious that following on the heels of scenes of stunning violence that involved severed heads and limbs it was a relatively innocuous action that provoked a gasp.
I don’t want to provide any major spoilers (history does that), but I did want to use three hundred words to say that 300 kicked ass.

Wednesday Hodge Podge Post

I woke up this morning convinced that it must still be around, say, 6 AM, only to discover that it was actually 9.
This annoyed me because I really didn’t want to get up, but given how short my Wednesdays are already thanks to my insanely early bedtime (an insanely early bedtime that allows me to get up before 5 AM and still manage to get a lot of sleep and manage to stay awake while sitting in one spot in a dark, cold, boring room for 12+ hours), so, cursing Father Time, I got up.
I then proceeded to turn on the oven to preheat it in order to cook the breakfast casserole I’d prepared last night.
While that was cooking I talked to my mother – who is moving into a different apartment within the same complex she’s in this weekend, as it’s on a lower floor and has a southern exposure so she’ll actually get some sunlight – and then got around to eating the aforementioned casserole.
Well, part of it, anyway, because even though I’d halved the recipe I’d based it on, it was still a lot more food than I’m inclined eat in one sitting.
(The recipe as found, but not as prepared, follows:
2 lbs. pork sausage (1 hot, 1 mild)
3 c. milk
1 tsp. salt
1 1/2 c. shredded cheddar cheese
9 eggs, beaten
1 1/2 tsp. dry mustard
1 sm. bag Ore Ida hash browns

Cook sausage over medium heat until done, stirring to crumble. Drain well on paper towels, set aside. In same skillet, brown hash browns, over medium heat. Combine sausage, hash browns and remaining ingredients, mixing well. Pour into a well greased 13 x 9 x 2 inch baking pan. Refrigerate covered, overnight. Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour.
Makes 8 to 10 servings.)
After eating I got around to showering and pinged Brian to see if he was up for seeing the movie today. He had to bring one of the cats to the vet not long before the movie’s start time, so that was pretty much a negative, and so I was left to decide whether or not I wanted to go see it alone.
While deciding, I worked on a tutorial for creating a postage mark.
The result of said tutorial work is shown below:



I made it a postage mark from Perdition, because that’s ever-so slightly more esoteric than Hell. Besides, there’s a Hell in Michigan, which people like to mail things from just so that it can be postmarked “Hell.” Similarly, around the holidays people like to mail presents from Christmas, Michigan.
While working on that, I thought, “What else do I have to do?” and so opted to head to the theater.
For a while I thought I was going to be the only person there, but then someone else came in, and after her a small group of teenagers came in, and, though there was no good reason for them to do so in the near-empty theater, they sat near me. Since it wasn’t as though those were “prime” seats, I assumed this meant that the Universe was just preparing to fuck with me by having these little shits behind me so that they could interfere with my enjoyment of the movie as much, and as loudly, as possible.
Fortunately they were reasonably quiet, so they didn’t annoy me too much beyond simply existing.
One of them did annoy me slightly after the trailer for the movie Lucky You – a movie that I saw a trailer for months and months ago, in the summer, I think, and which still doesn’t have an actual release date – starring Eric Bana and Drew Barrymore.
The kid said, “That looked pretty good until Drew Barrymore started crying. Then it, like, lost all credibility.”
I wanted to turn around and say, “What the fuck are you talking about? Do you even know what words mean?”
Instead I simply sighed and shook my head.
Then the movie started.
…
It was interesting, and, oddly enough it had some moments of real humor, though I think that they just stood out so prominently because they were set against such a bleak and humorless backdrop.
The basic premise of the movie is this: 20 years in the future, women have become infertile, with the last new child having been born 18 years earlier. The species is doomed, and that’s just one of the many problems in the world. In its dying throes, the ugliest aspects of humanity have come to the surface and we find ourselves visiting an England in which, much like the England of V for Vendetta, one of the worst crimes you can commit is to be from somewhere else.
Illegal immigrants – foogies as they’re called – are rounded up and placed in internment camps before being shipped away.
There is, of course, violent resistance to this state of affairs, and very early in the movie we’re hit with an act of stunning terrorist violence – the first of many.
The plot of the movie is centered around the quest to get a young foogie girl safely out of the country. This particular foogie is the most important person in the world. Why? Because she’s eight months pregnant.
The rest is all backstory and personal histories – such as the connection between the protagonist, Theo, played by Clive Owen, and the leader of the resistance group, Julian, played by Julianne Moore.
I have to say that I liked the pacing and the manner in which important information was provided to the audience (a sort of slow unfolding that inspires a growing awareness), and there are a lot of nice little stylistic touches, like the music, most notably the subtly not-quite right (thanks to the singer’s accent) cover of Ruby Tuesday.
I also appreciate the attention to subtle details. For example, in the movie Julianne Moore is in her 40s, which means she would have been in her 20s during the early 2000s, and as a mature woman she still bears the trappings that would have been de rigueur for an activist of that earlier time, such as a distinctive tattoo and a nose piercing.
So yeah, I’d say it was worth seeing. I can’t say for certain whether or not Brian would have liked it, but I’m kind of leaning towards him not liking it.
Once I got home I checked the mail and found that I’d gotten my belated Christmas present from Kevin.
I was surprised to find that it was two CDs. One I’d expected because he’d mentioned it when I last talked to him. It’s a CD called Where’s Neil When You Need Him? which consists of songs inspired by the works of Neil Gaiman, written and performed mostly by people I’ve only heard of because Neil has mentioned them in reference to the CD on his blog, and Tori Amos, who is a friend of Neil’s and who, by asking the question in one of her songs – she frequently makes references to Neil in her lyrics – provided the title for the CD.
The second CD, though, was a bit of a head-scratcher that falls into the “Uhhh…?” category, as I’m not quite sure what inspired him purchase it for me.
The CD is titled What is Hip?
It consists of remixes of songs that were popular when I was a kid. Songs by people like The Doobie Brothers and Seals and Croft (A remix of Summer Breeze that was, apparently, used in a Gap commercial, which explains why it sounded vaguely familiar).
So, yeah. I gave it a quick listen (listening to the Neil CD now), and it’s…interesting.
Still, I can see the motivation for getting me a CD with material based on Neil Gaiman’s work, but not really sure about the other one.
(In my thank you e-mail I quipped to Kevin that the only time that I think that “Jon” and “hip” will be likely to appear in a sentence together is in a form like “Jon slipped in the shower and broke his hip.”)
After I’d left the theater and turned my phone on I discovered that I had a voice mail from Kathleen, who was expressing anger and dismay at the fact that she’d gotten voice mail when calling me. I called her back and got her voice mail, even though it was already too late and I wouldn’t have been able to help her anyway (she needed someone to look up a phone number online, apparently).
Inside the box that Amazon shipped the CDs in was a little piece of paper that said, “Why worry about Valentine’s Day?”
I responded, “Exactly.”
I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but that pretty much sums up my feelings about it.
Anyway, that was my day in a – wordy and boring – nutshell.
Three long days of work lie ahead of me, and I’m sure that tomorrow night I’ll continue what has become my Thursday night tradition of only getting about 3-4 hours of sleep for no apparent reason other than that I simply will not fall asleep.
I just don’t get that. What is the mechanism that keeps you awake like that, despite the fact that you’re tired? I mean, I’m tired, I want to sleep, and I’m in bed. What more is needed to make sleep happen?
But whatever, I guess I’ll swear at that bridge when I come to it.
In the meantime, I hope you all have more interesting and exciting weekends than I’m likely to have.

Brokewrist Molehill

There’s a pretty sizable discrepancy between the channel lineup my half-assed cable company claims to provide and they channel lineup my half-assed cable company actually provides.
The biggest problem is the repeats. Channels 42 and 46, for example, are supposed to be WGN and HSN (or QVC; I forget which) respectively, but both channels are actually WGN.
Similarly, channels 8 and 68 are both Univision.
Now I’m not upset about not having a shopping channel, but I am bothered by the fact that they just can’t get their shit together.
I recently got a letter informing me that the company’s name has changed and that soon they will offer exciting new services. Here’s hoping that accuracy figures into them somewhere along the line.
In any case, the channel that’s supposed to be G4TV, formerly Tech TV, and formerly ZDTV before that, and which I haven’t watched since the Tech TV days, and have not watched regularly since the ZDTV days (even though Morgan Webb is hot), is in reality, randomly, HBO2.
Earlier today when I’d sat down to watch some TV while eating lunch, I noticed that a certain movie that had gotten a lot of acclaim, but which I’d had no particular desire to see, was going to be coming on.
Lacking anything better to do, I decided that I might as well give it a shot and see what all the fuss was about.
The movie in question? Brokeback Mountain.
Now the reason that I’d not previously seen it had nothing to do with homophobia. As most of the homos I know whom I’m not afraid of can attest, I have no problem with homosexuality. It’s not my bag, but I have no moral or religious objections to it, particularly as I believe that it’s not a choice and is an entirely natural phenomenon. The simple fact of the matter is that for the sake of the survival of the species not all of us can be breeders, and nature tends to seek out homeostasis (no, I didn’t mean to say “homostasis”). Hell, I don’t even have any particularly strong aesthetic objections to it and am not shocked and horrified at the sight of two guys getting hot and heavy. My preference would be for that to be two chicks getting hot and heavy, but the point is that I’m not going to get a raging case of the heebie-jeebies from watching Heath Ledger gently take Jake Gylen…Gylenh….Bubble Boy into his arms.
No, the main reason I didn’t see the movie was that it sounded boring as shit, and would sound equally boring if it were about a man and a woman instead of two men.
The movies I tend to seek out are comedies, comic book movies, and fantasy/science fiction movies. A dramatic examination of the forbidden relationship between two men as it progresses over the course of nearly two decades is not likely to have a lot of laughs, CGI effects, or explosions, and as such is not likely to get my butt into a seat in the theater.
All that being said, it was on, it was free, and I had no other plans, so I watched it.
And I was surprised.
Ang Lee did a much better job than he did with Hulk (no split screen attempts at creating a “comic book” feel, for example), though it wouldn’t have killed him to include a little wire-fighting on the treetops.
Seriously, though, I was pretty well impressed by all of the performances, and I liked the way the film focused on the impact their relationship had not only on the two of them but on all of the people around them, and ultimately the “gay” scenes were fairly tame and actually pretty few and far between.
The relationship between Ennis and Jack actually reminded me a little of Keller and Beecher on Oz (for those of you familiar with the former HBO series).
One line that I found entertaining was delivered by the girl who played Velma in the Scooby-Doo movies, who is a lot hotter than any actress who played Velma could reasonably be expected to be, when she said to Ledger’s character, in response to him saying that he “probably wasn’t much fun anyway” as she trying to get some closure on their relationship, “Girls don’t fall in love with fun.”
If that were true, I’d have them lining up outside my door…
In any case, overall I was surprised and impressed, and yes, even moved (It was so sad!) by the movie.
Still wouldn’t have paid to see it in a theater or on DVD, though.
After watching the movie I ventured out into the world to pick up a few things, including one of those Duraflame logs so that I can finally break in my fireplace.
Yep, I’ll have a nice romantic evening in front of a roaring fire curled up on the couch with…oh, right, you need at least two people to make an evening romantic. Never mind then.
Speaking of the fireplace, though, when examining it earlier today and looking for the lever for opening and closing the flue I ended up cracking my head on the mantle and knocking myself on my ass.
Sometimes I can’t help but wonder how I’ve managed to survive this long, having all of the grace of a drunk Inspector Clouseau.
On my way back from the store I was looking up at the rather funky-looking sky with its odd cloud formations and strange light and I realized that I’ve probably been doing too many graphics tutorials lately as my first thought upon looking at a patch of sky that was incongruously bright was, “God overid it with the Dodge Tool.”
I’d say my wrist would agree with the notion that I’ve been doing too many tutorials, what with the searing, electric agony that’s been emanating out from it up my arm and all the way to my shoulder and down to my fingertips.
Looks like more than a decade spent in front of a computer, to say nothing of the years spent slinging a mop as a janitor, or working a pricing gun and hand pricing scanner at a grocery store, have taken their toll.
I guess I finally need to get in touch with Brian’s chiropractor, who apparently worked wonders on his carpal tunnel problems a while ago.
I don’t think I’ll be much drawing for a while, as that seems to cause the most pain, though just sitting around not using my hand causes just about as much,.
Typing isn’t exactly a delight either, so I guess that’ll – ow – do it for this entry.