It's always about you, isn't it?
Sunday, May 15, 2005
End Program.
Watch your futures end….
So, we saw the last installment of Star Trek for the foreseeable future… you’d think I’d be more depressed. I guess I should thank the producers of Enterprise for giving us such a shitty send-off. At this point, I also guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
First of all, didn’t it seem that this episode wasn’t intended to be the series finale? I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a “save our show” season-ender stunt that the producers went back to and tinkered with in a desperate attempt to add some kind of emotional resonance. To wit: why did Trip have to die?
You could lift out the scenes of Trip’s “heroic” death, and nothing would change in the episode’s plot or message… whatever that was. No one ever really mourned his loss; no one learned anything from his sacrifice. No one explained what the hell that little manic episode he had in the corridor was all about either. Dude just lost it when the ship was boarded… wuss. I admit I haven’t seen many episodes of Enterprise, but I know enough to know this: Trip was a favorite character, and he deserved much better than a cheap, pandering death scene.
And while we're discussing it, wouldn't it have been a better death scene if T'Pol had been there? Her abscence just proved that all the producers ever wanted her character to do was to strip down and grease up in the decontamination chamber.
Oh, and what the hell? They build up to Archer's historic speech for an hour... and then we don't get to hear it?
And this isn't "These are the voyages..."-specfic, but it has to be said: that Enterprise theme song sucks hard. I swear to God: you change that theme song? You've got seven seasons easy.
Okay... I did like the little montage at the end... the Captains proudly-uttering the Star Trek credo while generations of Enterprise flew majestically across the screen. I'll give 'em that. But two points against it:
1. It was clearly tacked-on at the last minute, and meant to evoke the ending of Star Trek VI.
2. The Enterprise-D model was "built" by the dreaded Gabe of Trekkies. Hate that kid.
And, yeah, I liked the little bit of foreshadowing when Riker commented that the Enterprise-D's brig was bigger than Archer's cabin. Good news Bill, since you're gonna' be spending a lot of time there soon....
I also have to say I didn’t have a problem with the whole Next Generation tie-in… of course, the producers were counting on that. They knew that even if the fans complained that Enterprise was being disrespected, they’d be thrilled to see those pastel corridors of the Enterprise-D again… and I was. I did, however, have a problem with the conceit: what in the Great Bird of the Galaxy’s name was Riker doing on the holodeck in the first place?
Now before you get your Underoos in a bunch, lemme tell you, I know the Riker/Troi scenes took place during the events of “The Pegasus” (Season 7; episode 12 of ST:TNG), alright? But am I the only one who actually remembers that episode? Evidently… or at least I’m the only one who might have bothered to watch it before writing a tie-in for national television.
Here’s a recap:
Picard and Riker are joined by Admiral Pressman, who was Riker's first commanding officer, for a secret assignment. Riker is shocked to hear that debris from their ship, the U.S.S. Pegasus, which was lost with most of its crew 12 years ago, has been located in an asteroid, in the Devolin system by the Romulans. Pressman explains that the Federation must find it first to prevent sensitive technologies (what the less-educated might call a "cloaking device") from falling into the wrong hands.
The search begins, and the U.S.S. Enterprise is soon confronted by a Romulan warbird that is obviously on a similar mission. Later, Riker and Pressman discuss what happened to the Pegasus, and Riker is clearly disturbed when Pressman reveals that he wants to find the ship in order to try the secret experiment that caused the disaster 12 years earlier. He tells Riker that the Chief of Starfleet Security is behind the mission, and orders Riker to keep the mission's true nature secret from Picard.
Later, Riker meets with Picard, who has learned, with some difficulty, that there was a mutiny aboard the Pegasus just prior to its disappearance. He suspects a Starfleet cover-up, and asks Riker for his version of the story. Riker tells him that the crew mutinied because they felt Pressman was jeopardizing the ship, and that he supported his captain out of duty. But when Picard presses Riker for more information, he refuses to comply. Soon afterward, the Enterprise arrives back at the asteroid, and Pressman orders Picard to take the ship inside the fissure. Picard objects to the risky procedure, but the admiral outranks him, so Picard is forced to carry out the orders.
Blahblahblah… they get inside; they get out… they reveal the cloaked ship to the Romulans. Afterwards, Picard places Pressman under arrest for violating Federation law, and when Riker reminds him that he, too, is guilty, Picard grimly arrests his first officer as well.
Now, if you didn’t remember "The Pegasus," it’d have been impossible for you to understand what Riker was up to. Sure, he explained briefly to Troi (which completely contradicted the premise of “The Pegasus:” that he carried this secret alone for years ‘till he reluctantly told Picard), but out of context, Riker just sounded whiney. We’ve seen him deal with much worse crises without looking to imaginary friends for advice. And where did he find the time to do that, anyway? As I recall, he was pretty busy lying to Picard and arguing with the Admiral… how’d he find the time to pussyfoot around in the holodeck with Troi?
My theory? The caretakers of Star Trek are really pissed at Ronald D. Moore. He did a great job on Star Trek… right up to the day he left to helm Battlestar Galactica. He actually wrote “The Pegasus,” and I think this was a chance not only for Brannon & Berman to cash-in on the glory days of Star Trek: The Next Generation, but to spit on Ronald’s work. B & B effectively neutered Riker here… which I guess is a metaphor for what they've done to the franchise as a whole.
It’s a weird time to be an aging sci-fi geek. To paraphrase a certain dark Lord: “This will be a day long remembered. It has seen the end of Star Trek; it will soon see the end of Star Wars.”
My two most beloved franchises are ending -unbelievably- at the very same time. I always kinda’ thought that Star Trek would just be there in some form or another… nothing seemed capable of killing it, no matter how bad it got. So while I knew the Star Wars saga was reaching an end, I was certain that there’d still be some sort of ethnically-balanced crew flying around in some sort of low-budget CGI spaceship spreading allegory and finding God (and discovering that he’s a child, or a machine, or both) and never, ever interfering with anyone’s society unless it suited them. But, alas, that was not to be… sometimes… too often… our dreams just don’t come true, do they? Sometimes there’s nothing we can do… and again we have to wonder: who mourns for Adonais?
So, like I said, I guess I have to thank the Enterprise producers for pissing all over the show, and the franchise. Under normal circumstances, I don’t think I could handle losing both Star Trek and Star Wars in the very same month….
Instead? Instead, well it is the end of the world as I know it… and so far? I feel fine.
Ask me again next weekend though….
So, we saw the last installment of Star Trek for the foreseeable future… you’d think I’d be more depressed. I guess I should thank the producers of Enterprise for giving us such a shitty send-off. At this point, I also guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
First of all, didn’t it seem that this episode wasn’t intended to be the series finale? I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a “save our show” season-ender stunt that the producers went back to and tinkered with in a desperate attempt to add some kind of emotional resonance. To wit: why did Trip have to die?
You could lift out the scenes of Trip’s “heroic” death, and nothing would change in the episode’s plot or message… whatever that was. No one ever really mourned his loss; no one learned anything from his sacrifice. No one explained what the hell that little manic episode he had in the corridor was all about either. Dude just lost it when the ship was boarded… wuss. I admit I haven’t seen many episodes of Enterprise, but I know enough to know this: Trip was a favorite character, and he deserved much better than a cheap, pandering death scene.
And while we're discussing it, wouldn't it have been a better death scene if T'Pol had been there? Her abscence just proved that all the producers ever wanted her character to do was to strip down and grease up in the decontamination chamber.
Oh, and what the hell? They build up to Archer's historic speech for an hour... and then we don't get to hear it?
And this isn't "These are the voyages..."-specfic, but it has to be said: that Enterprise theme song sucks hard. I swear to God: you change that theme song? You've got seven seasons easy.
Okay... I did like the little montage at the end... the Captains proudly-uttering the Star Trek credo while generations of Enterprise flew majestically across the screen. I'll give 'em that. But two points against it:
1. It was clearly tacked-on at the last minute, and meant to evoke the ending of Star Trek VI.
2. The Enterprise-D model was "built" by the dreaded Gabe of Trekkies. Hate that kid.
And, yeah, I liked the little bit of foreshadowing when Riker commented that the Enterprise-D's brig was bigger than Archer's cabin. Good news Bill, since you're gonna' be spending a lot of time there soon....
I also have to say I didn’t have a problem with the whole Next Generation tie-in… of course, the producers were counting on that. They knew that even if the fans complained that Enterprise was being disrespected, they’d be thrilled to see those pastel corridors of the Enterprise-D again… and I was. I did, however, have a problem with the conceit: what in the Great Bird of the Galaxy’s name was Riker doing on the holodeck in the first place?
Now before you get your Underoos in a bunch, lemme tell you, I know the Riker/Troi scenes took place during the events of “The Pegasus” (Season 7; episode 12 of ST:TNG), alright? But am I the only one who actually remembers that episode? Evidently… or at least I’m the only one who might have bothered to watch it before writing a tie-in for national television.
Here’s a recap:
Picard and Riker are joined by Admiral Pressman, who was Riker's first commanding officer, for a secret assignment. Riker is shocked to hear that debris from their ship, the U.S.S. Pegasus, which was lost with most of its crew 12 years ago, has been located in an asteroid, in the Devolin system by the Romulans. Pressman explains that the Federation must find it first to prevent sensitive technologies (what the less-educated might call a "cloaking device") from falling into the wrong hands.
The search begins, and the U.S.S. Enterprise is soon confronted by a Romulan warbird that is obviously on a similar mission. Later, Riker and Pressman discuss what happened to the Pegasus, and Riker is clearly disturbed when Pressman reveals that he wants to find the ship in order to try the secret experiment that caused the disaster 12 years earlier. He tells Riker that the Chief of Starfleet Security is behind the mission, and orders Riker to keep the mission's true nature secret from Picard.
Later, Riker meets with Picard, who has learned, with some difficulty, that there was a mutiny aboard the Pegasus just prior to its disappearance. He suspects a Starfleet cover-up, and asks Riker for his version of the story. Riker tells him that the crew mutinied because they felt Pressman was jeopardizing the ship, and that he supported his captain out of duty. But when Picard presses Riker for more information, he refuses to comply. Soon afterward, the Enterprise arrives back at the asteroid, and Pressman orders Picard to take the ship inside the fissure. Picard objects to the risky procedure, but the admiral outranks him, so Picard is forced to carry out the orders.
Blahblahblah… they get inside; they get out… they reveal the cloaked ship to the Romulans. Afterwards, Picard places Pressman under arrest for violating Federation law, and when Riker reminds him that he, too, is guilty, Picard grimly arrests his first officer as well.
Now, if you didn’t remember "The Pegasus," it’d have been impossible for you to understand what Riker was up to. Sure, he explained briefly to Troi (which completely contradicted the premise of “The Pegasus:” that he carried this secret alone for years ‘till he reluctantly told Picard), but out of context, Riker just sounded whiney. We’ve seen him deal with much worse crises without looking to imaginary friends for advice. And where did he find the time to do that, anyway? As I recall, he was pretty busy lying to Picard and arguing with the Admiral… how’d he find the time to pussyfoot around in the holodeck with Troi?
My theory? The caretakers of Star Trek are really pissed at Ronald D. Moore. He did a great job on Star Trek… right up to the day he left to helm Battlestar Galactica. He actually wrote “The Pegasus,” and I think this was a chance not only for Brannon & Berman to cash-in on the glory days of Star Trek: The Next Generation, but to spit on Ronald’s work. B & B effectively neutered Riker here… which I guess is a metaphor for what they've done to the franchise as a whole.
It’s a weird time to be an aging sci-fi geek. To paraphrase a certain dark Lord: “This will be a day long remembered. It has seen the end of Star Trek; it will soon see the end of Star Wars.”
My two most beloved franchises are ending -unbelievably- at the very same time. I always kinda’ thought that Star Trek would just be there in some form or another… nothing seemed capable of killing it, no matter how bad it got. So while I knew the Star Wars saga was reaching an end, I was certain that there’d still be some sort of ethnically-balanced crew flying around in some sort of low-budget CGI spaceship spreading allegory and finding God (and discovering that he’s a child, or a machine, or both) and never, ever interfering with anyone’s society unless it suited them. But, alas, that was not to be… sometimes… too often… our dreams just don’t come true, do they? Sometimes there’s nothing we can do… and again we have to wonder: who mourns for Adonais?
So, like I said, I guess I have to thank the Enterprise producers for pissing all over the show, and the franchise. Under normal circumstances, I don’t think I could handle losing both Star Trek and Star Wars in the very same month….
Instead? Instead, well it is the end of the world as I know it… and so far? I feel fine.
Ask me again next weekend though….
Saturday, May 14, 2005
If You Can Read This, Waldo's Toast!
This is about the stupidest thing in the history of things.
And there's been a lot of things over the years.
Edsels... the Perfect Pancake Maker... Too Close for Comfort... prohibition... spray-on hair.
So, what I'm sayin' is: this is really, really stupid.
I'm gonna' look at it again now.
And there's been a lot of things over the years.
Edsels... the Perfect Pancake Maker... Too Close for Comfort... prohibition... spray-on hair.
So, what I'm sayin' is: this is really, really stupid.
I'm gonna' look at it again now.
A Mother's Tale
This is just so... disturbing.
Not because childbirth is messy... I saw that film in high school... the one with the Swedish couple and a lot of steamy stainless steel? The one with the Niagra falls of afterbirth? Yeah, I saw that... I get it: it's messy.*
But someone... you know... made this. On purpose.
Is it educational, or cautionary? I'll let the ages decide.
*Speaking of films we saw in school... can someone tell me what happened in that "Yellow Dress" movie the girls got to see in the 6th-grade? All I know is that when the girls got to see it, the boys were forced to leave the room, and watch Hercules in New York in the cafeteria. I've had this nagging feeling ever since that I so saw the wrong film....
Not because childbirth is messy... I saw that film in high school... the one with the Swedish couple and a lot of steamy stainless steel? The one with the Niagra falls of afterbirth? Yeah, I saw that... I get it: it's messy.*
But someone... you know... made this. On purpose.
Is it educational, or cautionary? I'll let the ages decide.
*Speaking of films we saw in school... can someone tell me what happened in that "Yellow Dress" movie the girls got to see in the 6th-grade? All I know is that when the girls got to see it, the boys were forced to leave the room, and watch Hercules in New York in the cafeteria. I've had this nagging feeling ever since that I so saw the wrong film....
Friday, May 13, 2005
Why Don't You Do Right?
From Nancy's blog to your ears...
This week at Modern Times Bookstore:
Some Angels Wear Black: Selected Poems
An Eli Coppola Tribute Reading
Tuesday, May 17 7:30 PM
Readers include Michelle Tea, David West, Jandy Nelson, Mark Routhier, Silke Vom Bauer, Stephen Pelton, Skye Alexander, and me (Nancy Depper).
Eli was one of the finest poets I've ever known and I can only implore you to come to the reading and to buy the book. In the strongest possible terms. You may well kick yourself for missing it, but I will almost certainly kick you for not showing up.
*Please note threat of violence is strictly metaphorical.
This week at Modern Times Bookstore:
Some Angels Wear Black: Selected Poems
An Eli Coppola Tribute Reading
Tuesday, May 17 7:30 PM
Readers include Michelle Tea, David West, Jandy Nelson, Mark Routhier, Silke Vom Bauer, Stephen Pelton, Skye Alexander, and me (Nancy Depper).
Eli was one of the finest poets I've ever known and I can only implore you to come to the reading and to buy the book. In the strongest possible terms. You may well kick yourself for missing it, but I will almost certainly kick you for not showing up.
*Please note threat of violence is strictly metaphorical.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Urinal Cake and I Scream
Nancy has a boundless, endlessly-charming capacity to ask me "questions of maleness" (usually during the last five minutes of 24) that I stopped thinking about long ago.
At least, I think I stopped thinking about them... huh. Did I ever consider these questions of gender or budding sexuality or teenage trauma? I dunno... I never had much use for angst, actually. Too many games of Sinistar to play for that nonsense, know what I'm sayin'?
For instance, she recently asked me when was the last time I'd been beard-free. I'm pretty sure it was 1994... but I'm not at all certain. In addition, there's no sad story of scarring or thrilling yarn of witness relocation to go along with this 11-year long grooming habit... but I don't think that surprised her too much. I know she would have enjoyed such a tale... but she knows by now that I don't spend a lot of time plumbing the depths of my psyche. Mostly I toddle blankly from place to place humming Tijuana Taxi to myself and thinking about Star Wars... who has time for self-examination?
I may be thoughtless when it comes to myself, but I'm certainly thoughtful when it comes to Nancy, so in the interest of bridging the gender gap (which I'm told exists, but, well, I've never really thought about it), and to relieve Nancy of one of the "questions of maleness" that doggedly nags her, I offer this: everything you need to know about life behind that door.
Now answer this for me: why does Leia have memories of her mother, while Luke doesn't... when they were born moments apart, and their mother dies seconds later in the delivery room?
It's no wonder I can't remember my first crush....
At least, I think I stopped thinking about them... huh. Did I ever consider these questions of gender or budding sexuality or teenage trauma? I dunno... I never had much use for angst, actually. Too many games of Sinistar to play for that nonsense, know what I'm sayin'?
For instance, she recently asked me when was the last time I'd been beard-free. I'm pretty sure it was 1994... but I'm not at all certain. In addition, there's no sad story of scarring or thrilling yarn of witness relocation to go along with this 11-year long grooming habit... but I don't think that surprised her too much. I know she would have enjoyed such a tale... but she knows by now that I don't spend a lot of time plumbing the depths of my psyche. Mostly I toddle blankly from place to place humming Tijuana Taxi to myself and thinking about Star Wars... who has time for self-examination?
I may be thoughtless when it comes to myself, but I'm certainly thoughtful when it comes to Nancy, so in the interest of bridging the gender gap (which I'm told exists, but, well, I've never really thought about it), and to relieve Nancy of one of the "questions of maleness" that doggedly nags her, I offer this: everything you need to know about life behind that door.
Now answer this for me: why does Leia have memories of her mother, while Luke doesn't... when they were born moments apart, and their mother dies seconds later in the delivery room?
It's no wonder I can't remember my first crush....
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
DC Scab
John Bolton is forty-two kinds of bad news. You don't need me to tell you this.
His nomination for US representative to the UN is deplorable on so many levels -literal and metaphorical- that I won't even begin to go into it here. Read this if you like... and think back on the good ol' days when the US Senate took their Constitutional duty of "advise and consent" seriously while you're at it.
You can call him "resolute" or you can call him "unbending," but here's my call: Johnny? When your wife flees your home in the middle of the night... with your furniture... because she's had enough of being forced to participate in group sex with strangers in swingers' clubs she didn't want to go to in the first place? That's a sign that you just might need to work on your people skills.
His nomination for US representative to the UN is deplorable on so many levels -literal and metaphorical- that I won't even begin to go into it here. Read this if you like... and think back on the good ol' days when the US Senate took their Constitutional duty of "advise and consent" seriously while you're at it.
You can call him "resolute" or you can call him "unbending," but here's my call: Johnny? When your wife flees your home in the middle of the night... with your furniture... because she's had enough of being forced to participate in group sex with strangers in swingers' clubs she didn't want to go to in the first place? That's a sign that you just might need to work on your people skills.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Super!
Superhero:
Pronunciation: -"hir-(")O, -"hE-(")rO
Function: noun: a fictional hero having extraordinary or superhuman powers; also: an exceptionally skillful or successful person
It’s great to see an article like this… not just one that seriously compares comic/superhero movies, but one that compares them as movies to be taken seriously. I can’t help but think though, that the world is much more interested in my top-10 comic/superhero movies. It’s not that I’m a narcissist, it’s just that… come on. You know? That’s what I’m sayin’.
So... from the home office in Dekalb, Illiniois... my "top-10" comic/superhero movies of all time:
10. G-Men From Hell
I admit, it’s not the greatest film you’re likely to see, but it’s such a faithful adaptation of Mike Allred’s vision that I can’t help but love it.
9. Mystery Men
This film is woefully underrated, you axe me.
I’d kill for a "Bowler" action figure… literally. If you have one, and you want to test me... don't. Mystery Men takes us back to the salad days when Janeane Garofalo wasn’t insufferable, and Ben Stiller was... well… funny. All that and Tom Waits too! It somehow strikes a balance between irreverence and reverence for the source material… it’s funny and touching… it shovels well. Oh, and look for Dana Gould, the funniest man in the whole live-long world.
8. Hellboy
The film The Hulk wanted to be.
I dunno what it is about Ron Perlman and prosthetics, but man, you put those things together, and you’ve got a hit on your hands! Thrilling, poignant, and all on the same epic scale of Mike Mignola’s comics. You know what the man said: "On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man in a dusty black coat with a red right hand."
7. Unbreakable & Sin City
It's my list, and I say two films can tie for 7th.
Unbreakable... I just dig this film! It’s a little heavy-handed, but captivatingly so!
Sin City... I've gushed about it already... but trust me: it's damn gush-worthy.
6. Spider-Man
I never thought this film would get made… and then to have Sam Raimi make it? I’m never that lucky!
Tobey Maguire nailed Peter/Spidey in an incredible… no, astonishing… actually, amazing… I mean, spectacular spider-film for the ages. Sam got it all right, and while Spider-Man 2 is a better film, this is the film that made me believe a man could swing. You know, from webs... I already knew he could swing the other way... well that's what I've heard, anyway. Seriously, I was giddy when we saw Spider-Man... it made me feel like a kid again... and that, my friends, did not suck.
5. Batman
I liked Sam Hamm’s concept of watching Batman start out; watching him learn, and seeing the repercussions of his actions and decisions.
Mostly though, I loved Anton Furst’s production design, and Tim Burton’s commitment to bringing Bob Kane’s vision of the Dark Knight’s dark night to the big screen. And for the record? I think Michael Keaton was a great choice for Bruce/Batman. So there.
4. Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eighth Dimension
If you don’t think this is a superhero movie, watch it again.
In the movie, he saves the girl, and the world, and gets back in time to play the piano.
Tell you what, watch it again anyway. Dude's a neurosurgeon, rock star, visionary, defeater of evil... and he married the Queen of the Netherlands... just like me.
3. Donnie Darko
"Donnie Darko? What the hell kind of name is that? It's like some sort of superhero or something."
"What makes you think I'm not?"
2. X-Men
The opening scene alone makes this a must-worship film.
I've never been that impressed by any of the myriad of X-Men comics... the whole "misunderstood outcasts who serve a society that shuns them" premise... big deal. Every kid who's ever worked at McDonald's can tell you the same tale... but man this film does it for me. I only hope Bryan saved some of this magic for Superman Returns.
1. Superman – The Movie
Was there any doubt?
Nothing about this movie disappointed me that summer afternoon in 1978... nothing. The same is true today. Christopher Reeve was perfect as Superman, and even better as Clark. Gene Hackman was a tad campy as Lex, but even then I knew better than to question anything Gene Hackman does, so I went with it.... Now, older and wiser, I see the wisdom of Gene's ways... well, not really... but he's Gene Hackman, dammit!
I tell you... Clark and his mother standing in the cornfield; that John Williams score swelling up around them... and Superman turning back time to save Lois (who never sounded more Canadian than that moment after she cheated death... what's the deal with that?)... those moments moved me, and shaped me.
Gee whiz... that was a great summer....Monday, May 09, 2005
Storm Cell
Man... this is a pretty messed-up game... but it won't drive you to abuse controlled substances like No Pron will....
Well, not right away, anyway....
PS: Go to "Downloads," and download. It's not ginormous, and it's totally worth it. Really.
Well, not right away, anyway....
PS: Go to "Downloads," and download. It's not ginormous, and it's totally worth it. Really.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
Words Fail; They Bleep
"Unnecessary censorship?" Oh, I don't think so.
Be strong, and stare disdainfully at the devil.
Be strong, and stare disdainfully at the devil.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Gwine to Run All Night; Gwine to Run All Day...
"The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home,
Tis summer, the people are gay;
The corn-top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom
While the birds make music all the day.
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor
All merry, all happy and bright;
By'n by hard times comes a knocking at the door
Then my old Kentucky home, Good-night!
Weep no more my lady. Oh! Weep no more today!
We will sing one song for my old Kentucky home
For the old Kentucky home, far away."
Yeah? Well Stephen Foster can kiss my ass.
"Wilko." 21:1.
I told you: horses are stupid.
Tis summer, the people are gay;
The corn-top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom
While the birds make music all the day.
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor
All merry, all happy and bright;
By'n by hard times comes a knocking at the door
Then my old Kentucky home, Good-night!
Weep no more my lady. Oh! Weep no more today!
We will sing one song for my old Kentucky home
For the old Kentucky home, far away."
Yeah? Well Stephen Foster can kiss my ass.
"Wilko." 21:1.
I told you: horses are stupid.
My Old Kentucky Home
I won't keep you in suspense any longer.
My pick to win the Kentucky Derby... to make that mad dash for the roses... is... Wilko!
If he doesn't win, it's not because I can't pick a horse, it's because -with apologies to every 7th-grade girl ever- horses are stupid.
My pick to win the Kentucky Derby... to make that mad dash for the roses... is... Wilko!
If he doesn't win, it's not because I can't pick a horse, it's because -with apologies to every 7th-grade girl ever- horses are stupid.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Become... Stuffed.
I can't even tell you how many times I've seen Se7en. Not just because -let's face it- I'm not the most social guy you're ever likely to meet... I literally can't tell you. I seem to have swallowed my tongue. Could someone call 911... or my mom? Or Dr Laura! She always seems to know the right thing to do!
Note: This little Quicktime film takes a couple minutes to load... rest easy....
Note: This little Quicktime film takes a couple minutes to load... rest easy....
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Band on the Run
Rusty, let's just bring in the accused, alright?
"Louie Louie, me gotta go.
Louie Louie, me gotta go.
A fine little girl, she wait for me.
Me catch the ship across the sea.
I sailed the ship all alone.
I never think I'll make it home.
Louie Louie, me gotta go.
Three nights and days we sailed the sea.
Me think of girl constantly.
On the ship, I dream she there.
I smell the rose in her hair.
Louie Louie, me gotta go.
Me see Jamaican moon above.
It won't be long me see me love.
Me take her in my arms and then I tell her I never leave again.
Louie Louie, me gotta go. "
Now, let's just put aside the fact that in 1965 the FBI determined -after years of investigation and millions of well-spent taxpayers' dollars- that the lyrics to Louie, Louie were indiscernible. J Edgar and the boys huddled over a turntable in their Fed-Cave, slowed the 7" single to 331/3 and strained to make out anything that might come close to violating the federal obscenity law... but they eventually had to admit defeat, and leave the Kingsmen alone.
And let's allow that no one really wants to see another gang of drunken frat guys pretending to be John Belushi in Animal House, numbly swinging half-empty bottles of Lucky Lager around while they all bellow different versions of Louie Louie into traffic, certain in their drunken haze that this... this is the way to win the hearts and loins of those Tri Pi sisters across the street.
We all rely on our marching bands. We look to them for the heartfelt, homespun heralding of happier times... we ask much of them, and they never let us down... but how much can we expect of them? How many songs do you expect your marching bands to learn? To practice? To know? Another One Bites the Dust? Absolutely. Tusk? Of course. We Will Rock You? They better! The theme to Star Wars? Damn skippy! And Louie Louie... these are all required learning for marching bands. Only when they've mastered these do they even consider moving on to the Mission Impossible theme and Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2. Thanks to their tireless, selfless efforts, we never have to "sail the ship all alone."
Attacking Louie Louie is a direct assault on our nation's marching bands. And an assault on our nations' marching bands -take heed, my friends- is an assault on the very fabric of our nation; a stain on those colors that never run. You know what that makes those who would ban Louie Louie from the marching band repertoire? Terrorists.
Terrorists too stupid to realize that they're fighting to ban something that isn't even happening! They think the lyrics to Louie Louie are obscene? That they shouldn't be a part of all-American events like watching their kids flatten each other on the football field, or yelling at each other in the stands during T-ball games? That's their prerogative... but it should be noted that the bands don't sing the songs... they play them poorly on rented instruments. No one is singing, so no one is hearing the "obscene" lyrics... and even if they were, no one can understand them anyway!
It well and truly is a world gone mad. Someone should sell tickets.
"Louie Louie, me gotta go.
Louie Louie, me gotta go.
A fine little girl, she wait for me.
Me catch the ship across the sea.
I sailed the ship all alone.
I never think I'll make it home.
Louie Louie, me gotta go.
Three nights and days we sailed the sea.
Me think of girl constantly.
On the ship, I dream she there.
I smell the rose in her hair.
Louie Louie, me gotta go.
Me see Jamaican moon above.
It won't be long me see me love.
Me take her in my arms and then I tell her I never leave again.
Louie Louie, me gotta go. "
Now, let's just put aside the fact that in 1965 the FBI determined -after years of investigation and millions of well-spent taxpayers' dollars- that the lyrics to Louie, Louie were indiscernible. J Edgar and the boys huddled over a turntable in their Fed-Cave, slowed the 7" single to 331/3 and strained to make out anything that might come close to violating the federal obscenity law... but they eventually had to admit defeat, and leave the Kingsmen alone.
And let's allow that no one really wants to see another gang of drunken frat guys pretending to be John Belushi in Animal House, numbly swinging half-empty bottles of Lucky Lager around while they all bellow different versions of Louie Louie into traffic, certain in their drunken haze that this... this is the way to win the hearts and loins of those Tri Pi sisters across the street.
We all rely on our marching bands. We look to them for the heartfelt, homespun heralding of happier times... we ask much of them, and they never let us down... but how much can we expect of them? How many songs do you expect your marching bands to learn? To practice? To know? Another One Bites the Dust? Absolutely. Tusk? Of course. We Will Rock You? They better! The theme to Star Wars? Damn skippy! And Louie Louie... these are all required learning for marching bands. Only when they've mastered these do they even consider moving on to the Mission Impossible theme and Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2. Thanks to their tireless, selfless efforts, we never have to "sail the ship all alone."
Attacking Louie Louie is a direct assault on our nation's marching bands. And an assault on our nations' marching bands -take heed, my friends- is an assault on the very fabric of our nation; a stain on those colors that never run. You know what that makes those who would ban Louie Louie from the marching band repertoire? Terrorists.
Terrorists too stupid to realize that they're fighting to ban something that isn't even happening! They think the lyrics to Louie Louie are obscene? That they shouldn't be a part of all-American events like watching their kids flatten each other on the football field, or yelling at each other in the stands during T-ball games? That's their prerogative... but it should be noted that the bands don't sing the songs... they play them poorly on rented instruments. No one is singing, so no one is hearing the "obscene" lyrics... and even if they were, no one can understand them anyway!
It well and truly is a world gone mad. Someone should sell tickets.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Out of the Crooked Tree of Humanity
Here are the two things I don't get about this story:
1) Britney's convinced that the world hangs on her every flatulence. This we know. Yet -assuming this is indeed her home pregnancy kit- she doesn't pause for a moment... plastic strip dangling over the waste basket... to listen to the voice in her head that reedily whispers "Hey, no-talent skank,* maybe you should just take this little urinary souvenir home, and burn it on the 2nd floor hibachi. Hotel housekeeping is bound to go through our trash, and we can't be sure they'll be distracted by those balls of aluminum foil, crushed gerbils and half-eaten tofu pot stickers we dropped in there as a diversion. If someone finds this, they might clone us, and there'd be billions of Britneys fighting for our place on the pop charts, and using our hair brush... and we do not need that, do we skank? No one had better ever try to use our hair brush!"
2) Didn't the kindly folks at the Canadian Press bury the headline here? "Haunted cane?" That's the real story! Forget about Britney's pee... I wanna' curl up by the light of my SVGA monitor and hear the tale of the haunted cane! Why is it haunted? How did they determine that it is haunted, and not merely possessed? Was it a normal cane that only began manifesting paranormal behavior after they purchased it? Did they just think it was haunted, until one day an intrepid Golden Palace staffer snuck up on it... ripped it's mask off and cried "Mr Wynn!" laying waste to Steve Wynn's carefully-laid plans to drive Golden Palace stock into the ground with rumors of a haunted cane stalking it's corridors, terrorizing their web designers and virtually-tripping the elderly as they scrabble down from their barstool avatars in the online Keno lounge?
Keno? Keno? You know, I have a foolproof Keno sytem....
$5,000 urine stains... trasharrazi... spectral canes... Keno... it's a wonderful world.
*Little-known fact: the voice in Brit's head refers to her as "No-talent skank..." and it sounds just like James Garner.
1) Britney's convinced that the world hangs on her every flatulence. This we know. Yet -assuming this is indeed her home pregnancy kit- she doesn't pause for a moment... plastic strip dangling over the waste basket... to listen to the voice in her head that reedily whispers "Hey, no-talent skank,* maybe you should just take this little urinary souvenir home, and burn it on the 2nd floor hibachi. Hotel housekeeping is bound to go through our trash, and we can't be sure they'll be distracted by those balls of aluminum foil, crushed gerbils and half-eaten tofu pot stickers we dropped in there as a diversion. If someone finds this, they might clone us, and there'd be billions of Britneys fighting for our place on the pop charts, and using our hair brush... and we do not need that, do we skank? No one had better ever try to use our hair brush!"
2) Didn't the kindly folks at the Canadian Press bury the headline here? "Haunted cane?" That's the real story! Forget about Britney's pee... I wanna' curl up by the light of my SVGA monitor and hear the tale of the haunted cane! Why is it haunted? How did they determine that it is haunted, and not merely possessed? Was it a normal cane that only began manifesting paranormal behavior after they purchased it? Did they just think it was haunted, until one day an intrepid Golden Palace staffer snuck up on it... ripped it's mask off and cried "Mr Wynn!" laying waste to Steve Wynn's carefully-laid plans to drive Golden Palace stock into the ground with rumors of a haunted cane stalking it's corridors, terrorizing their web designers and virtually-tripping the elderly as they scrabble down from their barstool avatars in the online Keno lounge?
Keno? Keno? You know, I have a foolproof Keno sytem....
$5,000 urine stains... trasharrazi... spectral canes... Keno... it's a wonderful world.
*Little-known fact: the voice in Brit's head refers to her as "No-talent skank..." and it sounds just like James Garner.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
And the Clocks Were Striking Thirteen....
"Day by day and almost minute by minute the past was brought up to date. In this way every prediction made by the Party could be shown by documentary evidence to have been correct; nor was any item of news, or any expression of opinion, which conflicted with the needs of the moment, ever allowed to remain on record. All history was a palimpsest, scraped clean and reinscribed exactly as often as was necessary."
"And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed - if all records told the same tale - then the lie passed into history and became truth. 'Who controls the past' ran the Party slogan, 'controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.'"
"The thought police would get him just the same. He had committed - would have committed, even if he had never set pen to paper - the essential crime that contained all others in itself. Thoughtcrime, they called it. Thoughtcrime was not a thing that could be concealed forever. You might dodge successfully for a while, even for years, but sooner or later they were bound to get you."
"If there was hope, it must lie in the proles, because only there, in those swarming disregarded masses, eighty-five percent of the population of Oceania, could the force to destroy the Party ever be generated."
"Until they become conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious."
"And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed - if all records told the same tale - then the lie passed into history and became truth. 'Who controls the past' ran the Party slogan, 'controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.'"
"The thought police would get him just the same. He had committed - would have committed, even if he had never set pen to paper - the essential crime that contained all others in itself. Thoughtcrime, they called it. Thoughtcrime was not a thing that could be concealed forever. You might dodge successfully for a while, even for years, but sooner or later they were bound to get you."
"If there was hope, it must lie in the proles, because only there, in those swarming disregarded masses, eighty-five percent of the population of Oceania, could the force to destroy the Party ever be generated."
"Until they become conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious."
Life and How to Lego it.
I had this dream once, where I was looking down on myself, sitting at a cluttered desk, scribbling out the dream for the doltish dreamer (me, I remember realizing sadly); creating these complicated plots and sub-plots for the dreamer to stumble through.
I woke up thinking that dream was a lot like life in the waking world: we all create these more-or-less credible personalities, and then just sorta' live 'em out.
Keep building.
I woke up thinking that dream was a lot like life in the waking world: we all create these more-or-less credible personalities, and then just sorta' live 'em out.
Keep building.
Help Me Terry Bollea, You're My Only Hope!
Destiny, schmestiny! Vote early, and vote often!
See, while some may be happy to sit idly by and let Yoda adumbrate, I myself prefer a more... obvious future. It's just easier that way. You always know what to wear; parking's never a problem, and you can see to it that your saber-slinger of choice wins it all in this no holds barred match of the best of the best. No retreat, no surrender! Whatchoo gonna' do when Hulkamania comes for you? Fight on, dear old Muncie! I... can't... stop... typing!
See, while some may be happy to sit idly by and let Yoda adumbrate, I myself prefer a more... obvious future. It's just easier that way. You always know what to wear; parking's never a problem, and you can see to it that your saber-slinger of choice wins it all in this no holds barred match of the best of the best. No retreat, no surrender! Whatchoo gonna' do when Hulkamania comes for you? Fight on, dear old Muncie! I... can't... stop... typing!
Monday, May 02, 2005
I'm Making My Lunch!
After almost an hour, I'm certain of only one thing: David Lynch got high freebasing kitty litter one night during Passover, and designed this game.
And you know what? He thinks it's kay-rayzee!
You know the chicken walk? It just might help with this....
And you know what? He thinks it's kay-rayzee!
You know the chicken walk? It just might help with this....
I Got No Idols
"You might think we all need that stuff
But I don't think about it much.
And when I do, I have to leave the room
I'm scared of what I might do."
Thus spake Juliana Hatfield.
Turns out she was talking about American Idol. The good folks at this site are doing Reuben Kincaid's work... help them, won't you?
But I don't think about it much.
And when I do, I have to leave the room
I'm scared of what I might do."
Thus spake Juliana Hatfield.
Turns out she was talking about American Idol. The good folks at this site are doing Reuben Kincaid's work... help them, won't you?
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Art Crimes
An impressive collection of graffiti decrying the Iraq war.
Most of this art is from 2003, and it's all as telling and heartbreaking two years later.
Does that mean the more things get sprayed, the more things stay the same?
That's me... the sad clown... color me Emmett Kelly.
Most of this art is from 2003, and it's all as telling and heartbreaking two years later.
Does that mean the more things get sprayed, the more things stay the same?
That's me... the sad clown... color me Emmett Kelly.
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