For a more spoiler free review of the movie read the one that Stephen Notley wrote. Mine is all about the spoiling.
When, within the first half hour of a movie sequel, one of my favorite characters is vaporized in a way that doesn't allow for any emotional connections, I tend to disconnect from the rest of the movie and throw all expectations out. Which isn't to say that I had many expectations because I'd read the headlines of the early reviews over at Ain't it Cool News, all of which were negative. In the end, I'd give the movie a rating of "blah." If you liked the first two and can disconnect from the problems, like I did, you'll survive unharmed. If you're one of the people nearly cream your pants every time you read a rumor about the Wolverine solo move, you'll probably love it.
So, here’s how the movie goes:
It opens with Xavier and Magneto twenty years ago meeting a young Jean Grey who is powerful enough to lift all the cars on her block (as well as steal Chris Claremont's lawnmower and make the water from Stan Lee's hose slow down and start falling up). Can you all say "retcon"? I knew you could.
Then we meet a kid using a rasp on his back to shave his budding wings.
There's a useless Danger Room sequence that "reinforces" the fact that Wolverine is not a team player, even though he keeps coming back to the mansion to spend time with everyone and he even helps out in a class when he's asked to. Yeah, he's a real loner, isn't he? We get to hear a Sentinel, and see its head. I'd rather there wasn't a Sentinel at all because if I can't actually see the team fighting a giant robot, it should be kept out of the film all together.
Scott Summers is still depressed over Jean Grey getting crushed by tons of water. Wolverine chews him out for not being in class. Scott runs away to the lake (A lake, really? Do these people understand how reservoirs work? They block the water from a river filling up a natural valley. When the damn breaks, it all turns back into a river, there's no lake. If only this was the worst part of the upcoming scene.) where Jean died. He cries a little. He yells at the voice of Jean in his head a little. And he takes off his glasses and zaps the water. A hole forms, Jean rises, they kiss, strange lines appear on Scott's face, and it looks like the life is being sucked out of him.
Professor Xavier sends Storm and Wolverine to find Scott. Instead, they find Jean and a pair of red Ray-Bans.
Oh, somewhere in there, Mystique was captured and a "cure" for mutants was announced. That's important because it allows Magneto, along with Pyro, to gather an army of mutants. Magneto sets out to rescue her. This scene has him standing in the middle of the road, crushing cars and flinging them away. Pretty awesome. It also has Mystique getting shot with the "cure" and abandoned by Magneto, but he does rescue Juggernaut (a crappy character, no matter what) and Jamie Madrox, the Multiple Man.
By then it's revealed that Xavier had blocked off portions of Jeans mind, which severely limited her power and created a second personality which calls itself Phoenix. (This, I thought was cool because Xavier has fucked with everyone's minds in the comics, closing off portions for some, opening portions for other, or planting false memories for everyone. It's just too bad an earlier film hadn't mentioned this, even in passing, it would have been more effective then that the blocks he made were breaking down.)
Jean eventually wakes up and decides to make out with Wolverine, who is into it at first, but changes his mind for some reason. Jean asks him to kill her before she kills again. He says no and shows her Scott's glasses. Jean goes nuts, disintegrates the glasses, throws Wolverine across the room, and runs to her childhood home.
The X-Men and Magneto's people all go there to convince her to be on their side. Xavier upsets Jean, who throws Magneto across the room and uses her brain to lift Xavier out of his chair. Wolverine and Storm get their asses kicked. Jean disintegrates Professor X. And another of my favorite X-characters is killed.
Jean goes with Magneto and his crew to the woods.
Somewhere in there, Rogue sees her boyfriend, Bobby "Iceman" Drake, ice skating with Kitty Pride on the fountain in the yard and decides to go get the cure so she can finally touch her man, proving that Rogue believe that the only way to keep a man faithful is by putting out. Also, Angel escapes from the cure and flies from San Francisco to New York. (Later, he flies from NY to SF, almost as fast as the X-Men's jet can fly.)
There's a cool scene where Jamie Madrox becomes a whole camp of mutants to screw with the government.
Wolverine goes by himself, to once again reinforce that he's loner, to save Jean. He fights a guy who throws pointy bones. He kills the guy who throws pointy bones. Magneto throws Wolvie against a tree. Magneto throws Wolvie across the forest. Wolvie limps his way back to the mansion to ask for help to save Jean.
Magneto, literally, takes the Golden Gate Bridge to Alcatraz. It was very nice of him to lay one end of the bridge on the peninsula so the US army could get across later in the movie.
Magneto sends his "pawns" in and they all get shot with the cure.
Some mutant, I couldn't tell if it was a guy or a girl, claps his or her hands and destroys the guns. The army guys get scared. The X-Men (although I hate calling them that without Cyclops there) arrive and fight. Storm gets to beat up the chick who beat her up earlier. Wolverine uses his claws on lots of people, but never seems to get them bloody. Beast bounces, throws bad guys, and partially quotes Churchill. Kitty runs away from Juggernaut. Iceman makes a wall of ice. And Colossus does stuff, but I don't remember him being shown much. (I guess he was too expensive to show all the time.)
After a long, wall crushing chase, Kitty saves the mutant who is the cure by having Juggernaut run into a wall. Yeah, it's stupid.
Iceman fights Pyro and finally ices up to... head butt the guy.
Colossus hurls Wolverine, in a "fastball special," at Magneto, who stops Wolvie in mid air and pontificates a bit. Beast jumps up from behind and pokes Magneto with the cure.
Jean goes even crazier and starts disintegrating all the people who didn't have speaking parts.
Kitty appears with the cure kid and no one thinks that if they can get him close to Jean, she'll stop turning people to dust.
Everyone runs across the bridge to the peninsula, except for Wolverine and Jean and all the dead people.
Wolverine gets close to her, trying to talk to her so she'll stop being crazy. She doesn't stop and she can't disintegrate him as fast as his body regenerates. He gets close to her, stabs her in the stomach, she dies, and he cries.
There are three headstones in the lawn at the mansion, which doesn't creep any of the kids out, right? Storm hugs the cure kid. Rogue is back, touches Bobby's hand and kisses him.
Magneto is sitting in a park at a chess board. He puts he had near a piece and it wiggles toward his hand. He smiles. The movie ends.
First, in my opinion, a story about the Dark Phoenix doesn't work if the audience hasn't seen the Phoenix be good. If the Jean had come back with all the power of the Phoenix and help the X-Men and slowly go insane until she becomes the Dark Phoenix it would have much more impact on the audience. There's a reason Claremont and Byrne set the original story of the Phoenix up that way: They knew what they were doing.
Second, did anyone really believe that Wolverine loved Jean as much as or more than Scott? Scott was the one who loved her, openly, in the last two movies. Scott was the one broken-up over her death. Scott was the one who found her at the lake. He should have been the one to hear Xavier's mental block story. He should have been the one who tried to rescue her in the forest. He should have been the one to kill her in the end to provide the most emotional impact. Instead, he was killed off screen. Just thrown away.
The best thing about this movie was Kelsy Grammer as Beast, it's just too bad he's not that important to the movie. (Sure, Ian McKellen was fun, again, as Magneto, but there were points where he seemed bored with what he was doing.) I knew when I'd first read about him being cast that he'd be wonderful. He has a voice that sounds kind and intelligent, just like the voice of Beast I hear in my head. With Grammer as Beast I could see the joy Hank McCoy got out of reading a book, visiting with old friends, or ripping enemies apart. He was the only character who brought a smile to my face. Hearing him say, "Oh my stars and garters!" made me grin from ear to ear. I did have two problems with him, though. (Neither had to do with the actor.) The first was the lack of a furry face. Without the furry face he looks too human, not beastly enough. It shouldn't have to have long hair, like they put on his body, but hair that looks like a freshly buzzed head, where it's less than a half inch long. That, I think, would have made his make-up perfect. The second problem was not showing him being acrobatic in any way. Yeah, the first shot of the guy is him hanging upside-down reading in his office, but it would have been cooler if he had been told his meeting was delayed a few minutes and he said, "Fine, that gives me some time to catch up on my [pretentious Russian author]." Then he grabs the book, bounces off the wall, flips, and grabs on to the ceiling with his bare feet. And the fight at the end would have been a lot more fun to watch if he had been more talkative and less beastly.
The movie has lots of missed opportunities like those:
We didn't get to see the whole Sentinel.
Iceman only sprays a mist to freeze things; he doesn't make anything with his ice. Why couldn't he have thrown an icicle? And he ices himself up only to head butt Pyro? What was that about? Why not have him ice up as he steps out to duel with Pyro? Pyro mocks Bobby, Bobby ices up, Pyro take a moment and realizes that he has some respect for his enemy. It would have been ten seconds of screen time that lets the fanboys drool and give Pyro some characterization. The characterization actually fits because at one point Magneto explained to Pyro that he had a deep respect for Xavier, even though they worked differently.
Speaking of Pyro, he only throws fireballs. Where is his artistic flair? In the first movie he made something out of his flame for Rogue; I think it was a flower. I'd have liked to see him using his control over flame to amuse himself and others when he wasn't fighting. But that would be considered more characterization, which was forbidden in this movie.
Where was the Phoenix raptor? I thought it would appear at the end just before Jean was killed by Wolverine. I was waiting for her to be surrounded by the giant flaming bird.
And then there’s the end, which I think would have been better if Magneto was sitting at his chess board and human Mystic walks over, and sits down. Magneto looks up at her. Her eyes change back to the Mystic yellow and the skin surrounding the eyes turns blue then change back to normal. She smiles. He smiles. The movie ends.
So, there you go. I hope I've ruined it for everyone.
If you're no longer interested in seeing the movie, I say you should do one of two things:
1) Do as my brother is doing, save the money and put it toward a ticket to see Superman Returns in 3D at IMAX.
Or 2) Go see Art School Confidential instead. It may not be as good as Ghost World but it's a damn good movie.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Superman Returns
I've been listening to clips of music from the new Superman movie.
It sounds wonderful.
Which worries me.
Why? (Someone out there must be asking that question.)
It worries me because I don't want to get too excited and expect too much out of this movie. Like I did for Star Wars.
When the original Star Wars trilogy was put back into theaters as the special edition, it was amazing, for me at least. I had spent most of my life watching and re-watching those three movies with my brother on a video tape that was wearing out, but still played. Sitting in the dark theater, seeing the words "A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far, Far Away", and then hearing the fanfare gave me chills. I never thought I'd see these movies on the big screen. It was everything I'd hoped for. (Except for the Jabba scene, which I did my best to ignore.) Later, I found out that the prequels were being made and I thought that there would be a new Star Wars for my generation. There wasn't though. In general, the prequels sucked and that moment of euphoria I felt seeing the original was gone.
When I saw Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire last November, the euphoria returned. I heard Jor-El offering his son advice. I heard a play on John Williams's original score. I saw the greatest superhero of them all hanging over the Earth, watching and then streaking off to save someone. I had the chills again.
I've never gotten to see Superman on the big screen. I wish Warner Bros. had sent it to the theater when they released the DVD. I would have been there just to see him catch the helicopter and to hear Lois say, "You've got me. Who's got you?"
I hope the new one is worth it. I hope it's everything I want it to be and more.
It sounds wonderful.
Which worries me.
Why? (Someone out there must be asking that question.)
It worries me because I don't want to get too excited and expect too much out of this movie. Like I did for Star Wars.
When the original Star Wars trilogy was put back into theaters as the special edition, it was amazing, for me at least. I had spent most of my life watching and re-watching those three movies with my brother on a video tape that was wearing out, but still played. Sitting in the dark theater, seeing the words "A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far, Far Away", and then hearing the fanfare gave me chills. I never thought I'd see these movies on the big screen. It was everything I'd hoped for. (Except for the Jabba scene, which I did my best to ignore.) Later, I found out that the prequels were being made and I thought that there would be a new Star Wars for my generation. There wasn't though. In general, the prequels sucked and that moment of euphoria I felt seeing the original was gone.
When I saw Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire last November, the euphoria returned. I heard Jor-El offering his son advice. I heard a play on John Williams's original score. I saw the greatest superhero of them all hanging over the Earth, watching and then streaking off to save someone. I had the chills again.
I've never gotten to see Superman on the big screen. I wish Warner Bros. had sent it to the theater when they released the DVD. I would have been there just to see him catch the helicopter and to hear Lois say, "You've got me. Who's got you?"
I hope the new one is worth it. I hope it's everything I want it to be and more.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Saturday the 27th
I woke up at about seven. I rolled over so I wasn't facing the window and thought that I should really sleep more because it was my brother's birthday and I was going to The City with him and his friends and my other brother to see a band and there was no way I would get back to my apartment before the early morning hours.
I didn't fall asleep, though. I just lay there thinking that I should sleep more and questioned the existence of a God who wouldn't allow me to sleep a few more hours so I'd be relatively lively for the music.
Eventually, I rolled out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and stumbled out to turn on the TV and toast some waffles for breakfast.
The waffles were decent eating. I smeared them with peanut butter and drown them in fake maple syrup. (I think I've written it before, but to have a body like mine, you have to work for it. Most people think you can get one just by sitting, but there's work involved. Somedays I worke hard.) I don't remember what was on TV at first, but eventually I found Kill Bill vol. 1 and vol. 2 shown back to back and watched those. Excellent.
I left for The City at two-something because I was taking the bus from here to there. It's a long ride, but adding in the toll for the bridge, gas, and parking, I save at least five dollars, more depending on where I park. Plus, I don't get lost as easily on my feet as I do in my car. (I once drove into The City and circled it for three hours getting more and more lost. Eventually, I saw the sign that pointed me on my way out of town and I escaped. That's why I don't drive in The City anymore.) Along with saving money, I left so early, since the music didn’t start until nine, because I was meeting Heels, Johnny Logic, and their baby (who Heels calls peanut in real life, not piglet like she did in her blog in the pre-birth time) at Heels's sister's place (her sister and her sister's son were also there, so I guess I was meeting them, too) for dinner. The plan was to meet at six, but Heels told me that they'd probably be finished with the zoo and back at the apartment around five; so I aimed for five.
I did pretty well, too. I think I got there ten or fifteen minutes after the hour. Thirty or so minutes later all of us were on our way to Thai. And it was good Thai, too. (For those who are curious, it's near the corner of 40th Ave and Taraval Street. I have no idea what its name is, but it's with the trip to Sunset.) I had faith that it would be good from the moment we ordered because I've found that the Thai places that are only so-so warn you when you order something spicy. ("It's spicy." "Yeah, I know. I saw the little pepper next to the name. I like spicy." "But it's really, really spicy. Are you sure you want it?" "It's fucking Thai food! It should be spicy! Yes I'm sure I want it!") I got no warning at this place and by the second bite, my nose was running and my eyes were watering, but that's what happens when you eat huge chunks of red pepper. Yummy! And the breaded and fried yams were simply scrumptious.
Eventually, we finished and headed back to the apartment where we talked, watched weird internet videos, and laughed.
I warned the baby about the dangers of playing Risk with his parents. I don't think he understood, but I think that the earlier he hears about it, the better. Plus, the one time he does convince them to play the game with him and things go... wrong, I can say I warned him. (No, I'm not that cruel, I plan on warning him when he's old enough to actually understand what I'm saying.) It's not that his parents are evil when it comes to playing Risk, it's just that when it comes to the ethics in the game, they don't see eye to eye on what's ethical: one plays the game more like it's the real world and the other plays it more like and idealized world. The one time I played the game with them reinforced why I had making non-aggression pacts with other players, just like the real word, betrayal comes around eventually.
Anyway, I thought we were having a good time and was surprised to look at the clock on the wall and see that it was after nine. Heels's sister told me the easiest way to use the public transportation to get to the club.
I got there about quarter to ten. My brother and his friends and my other brother weren't there yet, but that was okay. He told me that they were all meeting at one of his friend's apartments at nine and planned on getting to the club around ten.
A three piece band (one guitar, a drummer, and a piano) was playing. They sounded a lot like the B-52s, but more rocky. (Now, of course, I have the "Rock Lobster" running through my head. That's the way it is with the B-52s, isn't it? Just think of the name and one of their songs traps itself into an endless loop in your head. Not that it's a bad thing.) I liked 'em. I wish I could have heard more of them, but I only heard three or four songs before they left the stage. That was a little after ten.
The lights came up and I could see the place better. It was small, very small. The stage barely fit the three people who were carefully disassembling their equipment. I think there were about twenty people then and, to me, the place already felt crowded. And it started to get hot. There were also two TVs and a projector that showed the band while they were playing. I didn't, and still don't, understand the need for these, the place was so small that you could see the stage fine from almost anywhere.
My brother and his friends and my other brother showed up about twenty minutes later, which was about ten minutes before the next band started playing. I gave him his gift (Robot Chicken) and was reintroduced to many of his friends.
The second band was made up of two guitars and the drummer. This band's music was very punk, but the girls weren't dressed very punk. I liked them. Their biggest problem was the long pauses between songs, even though they had a play list taped to one of the mic stands.
At one point, I turned to my brother, who wasn't celebrating his birthday, and asked him if he missed bass guitars as much as I did. He did, and he said he also missed it when having two guitars on stage meant one played lead and one played rhythm. I agreed with him about that. I hoped the next band wouldn't have those problems, but they did.
Watusi Zombi was their name and from Japan they came. The make-up of this band was like the last, except they were guys. They started the first song with a sound that reminded me of Radiohead and then blasted their way into a Slayer sound and flopped back and forth for a while. That was awesome. The problem was that each song was structured that way and, to my ears at least, got boring. Although I did really like one of the songs, it was either three from the end or two from the end, by that point I stopped paying attention to the transitions between songs. They ended the set by moving the drum kit off the stage into the audience and giving the drummer a solo. The two guitarists joined him there kinda dancing and kinda playing. Most people seemed to think this was the greatest. Me? I thought it was like bad sex: there was movement and noise and even though the climax lasted a decent amount of time, it was ultimately a weak one that was totally unfulfilling. I think I'm in the extreme minority, though. (Probably a minority of one.)
The final band of the evening was the one I came to see: The Dead Hensons. This is a band that covers songs from Sesame Street and The Muppet Show. They were both amazing and a disappointment. Amazing because they played all sorts of wonderful songs that I haven't heard in a long time. When was the last time you heard the classic "We All Live in a Capital I"? I bet it's been a while. Disappointing because the eight members didn't really fit on stage (especially the guy who plays trombone), there were several minutes between each song, and most of them seemed to have a bit too much to drink. They sounded great, though.
My brother who celebrates his birthday later in the year left before the set was over, I think at about 12:45. I should have left with him. When I started to think that the show was almost over, I pulled out my bus schedule to see what time I had to be at the stop. 1 AM. I pulled out my watch, it was 1:15. The next bus? 6 AM. Shit.
The music ended twenty or so minutes later. I hopped in a cab with some of the others and we rode to the apartment building they all met at earlier in the day. We took the long ride up the elevator and sat around talking for a while. (We also watched internet thing (which had the caption "Oh, internet, you've done it again.") that shows one dog screwing the other and as the one on top pulls out it vomits, then it reverses itself so you see the vomit fly up into the dogs mouth and the humping begins again. Very odd.) Eventually, they all decided that they wanted to sleep.
At that point, 2:30 I think, I figured sleep wouldn't really help me because I was ready to get out of the city and back to my place. I walked with my brother and his friend to his friend's car so she could get her sleeping gear and walked them back to the apartment building. We parted there. They went back in and I started walking down town.
I saw bodies in doorways covered with blankets and/or sleeping bags. I saw a couple on a corner shooting up. I was offered pot, twice, and crack and a diamond bracelet. Some guy on the other side of the street tried to get my attention by calling me "fatty" and "fat boy." I saw a girl with her hands down the front of a guy's pants while he was on the phone shouting, "I need you to tell whoever has my keys to get them to me! I gotta get in, man!" I couldn't blame him for being eager.
A little after four, I made it to my destination, an all night diner that's not Denny's, but may as well be. I had some water and pancakes and read my book for the next hour. When I was through I walked to the buses earliest stop, which picked up at 5:45. I tried to read some more, buy I was tired and my eyes wouldn't focus properly. I listened to music, instead.
The bus was on time. For as long as I can remember, I haven't slept well in moving vehicles, but I dozed. I'd hear the beginning of a song, drift off, and come back for the end. I did this for two and a halfish hours.
I opened the door to my apartment sometime after 8:30, but it still wasn't nine. I dropped my bag on the floor in front of the door and pulled my shoes off, throwing them into the kitchen. As I stumbled toward my bed, I stripped off my clothes. I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over my eyes, there was too much light coming through the blinds.
I didn't fall asleep, though. I just lay there thinking that I should sleep more and questioned the existence of a God who wouldn't allow me to sleep a few more hours so I'd be relatively lively for the music.
Eventually, I rolled out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and stumbled out to turn on the TV and toast some waffles for breakfast.
The waffles were decent eating. I smeared them with peanut butter and drown them in fake maple syrup. (I think I've written it before, but to have a body like mine, you have to work for it. Most people think you can get one just by sitting, but there's work involved. Somedays I worke hard.) I don't remember what was on TV at first, but eventually I found Kill Bill vol. 1 and vol. 2 shown back to back and watched those. Excellent.
I left for The City at two-something because I was taking the bus from here to there. It's a long ride, but adding in the toll for the bridge, gas, and parking, I save at least five dollars, more depending on where I park. Plus, I don't get lost as easily on my feet as I do in my car. (I once drove into The City and circled it for three hours getting more and more lost. Eventually, I saw the sign that pointed me on my way out of town and I escaped. That's why I don't drive in The City anymore.) Along with saving money, I left so early, since the music didn’t start until nine, because I was meeting Heels, Johnny Logic, and their baby (who Heels calls peanut in real life, not piglet like she did in her blog in the pre-birth time) at Heels's sister's place (her sister and her sister's son were also there, so I guess I was meeting them, too) for dinner. The plan was to meet at six, but Heels told me that they'd probably be finished with the zoo and back at the apartment around five; so I aimed for five.
I did pretty well, too. I think I got there ten or fifteen minutes after the hour. Thirty or so minutes later all of us were on our way to Thai. And it was good Thai, too. (For those who are curious, it's near the corner of 40th Ave and Taraval Street. I have no idea what its name is, but it's with the trip to Sunset.) I had faith that it would be good from the moment we ordered because I've found that the Thai places that are only so-so warn you when you order something spicy. ("It's spicy." "Yeah, I know. I saw the little pepper next to the name. I like spicy." "But it's really, really spicy. Are you sure you want it?" "It's fucking Thai food! It should be spicy! Yes I'm sure I want it!") I got no warning at this place and by the second bite, my nose was running and my eyes were watering, but that's what happens when you eat huge chunks of red pepper. Yummy! And the breaded and fried yams were simply scrumptious.
Eventually, we finished and headed back to the apartment where we talked, watched weird internet videos, and laughed.
I warned the baby about the dangers of playing Risk with his parents. I don't think he understood, but I think that the earlier he hears about it, the better. Plus, the one time he does convince them to play the game with him and things go... wrong, I can say I warned him. (No, I'm not that cruel, I plan on warning him when he's old enough to actually understand what I'm saying.) It's not that his parents are evil when it comes to playing Risk, it's just that when it comes to the ethics in the game, they don't see eye to eye on what's ethical: one plays the game more like it's the real world and the other plays it more like and idealized world. The one time I played the game with them reinforced why I had making non-aggression pacts with other players, just like the real word, betrayal comes around eventually.
Anyway, I thought we were having a good time and was surprised to look at the clock on the wall and see that it was after nine. Heels's sister told me the easiest way to use the public transportation to get to the club.
I got there about quarter to ten. My brother and his friends and my other brother weren't there yet, but that was okay. He told me that they were all meeting at one of his friend's apartments at nine and planned on getting to the club around ten.
A three piece band (one guitar, a drummer, and a piano) was playing. They sounded a lot like the B-52s, but more rocky. (Now, of course, I have the "Rock Lobster" running through my head. That's the way it is with the B-52s, isn't it? Just think of the name and one of their songs traps itself into an endless loop in your head. Not that it's a bad thing.) I liked 'em. I wish I could have heard more of them, but I only heard three or four songs before they left the stage. That was a little after ten.
The lights came up and I could see the place better. It was small, very small. The stage barely fit the three people who were carefully disassembling their equipment. I think there were about twenty people then and, to me, the place already felt crowded. And it started to get hot. There were also two TVs and a projector that showed the band while they were playing. I didn't, and still don't, understand the need for these, the place was so small that you could see the stage fine from almost anywhere.
My brother and his friends and my other brother showed up about twenty minutes later, which was about ten minutes before the next band started playing. I gave him his gift (Robot Chicken) and was reintroduced to many of his friends.
The second band was made up of two guitars and the drummer. This band's music was very punk, but the girls weren't dressed very punk. I liked them. Their biggest problem was the long pauses between songs, even though they had a play list taped to one of the mic stands.
At one point, I turned to my brother, who wasn't celebrating his birthday, and asked him if he missed bass guitars as much as I did. He did, and he said he also missed it when having two guitars on stage meant one played lead and one played rhythm. I agreed with him about that. I hoped the next band wouldn't have those problems, but they did.
Watusi Zombi was their name and from Japan they came. The make-up of this band was like the last, except they were guys. They started the first song with a sound that reminded me of Radiohead and then blasted their way into a Slayer sound and flopped back and forth for a while. That was awesome. The problem was that each song was structured that way and, to my ears at least, got boring. Although I did really like one of the songs, it was either three from the end or two from the end, by that point I stopped paying attention to the transitions between songs. They ended the set by moving the drum kit off the stage into the audience and giving the drummer a solo. The two guitarists joined him there kinda dancing and kinda playing. Most people seemed to think this was the greatest. Me? I thought it was like bad sex: there was movement and noise and even though the climax lasted a decent amount of time, it was ultimately a weak one that was totally unfulfilling. I think I'm in the extreme minority, though. (Probably a minority of one.)
The final band of the evening was the one I came to see: The Dead Hensons. This is a band that covers songs from Sesame Street and The Muppet Show. They were both amazing and a disappointment. Amazing because they played all sorts of wonderful songs that I haven't heard in a long time. When was the last time you heard the classic "We All Live in a Capital I"? I bet it's been a while. Disappointing because the eight members didn't really fit on stage (especially the guy who plays trombone), there were several minutes between each song, and most of them seemed to have a bit too much to drink. They sounded great, though.
My brother who celebrates his birthday later in the year left before the set was over, I think at about 12:45. I should have left with him. When I started to think that the show was almost over, I pulled out my bus schedule to see what time I had to be at the stop. 1 AM. I pulled out my watch, it was 1:15. The next bus? 6 AM. Shit.
The music ended twenty or so minutes later. I hopped in a cab with some of the others and we rode to the apartment building they all met at earlier in the day. We took the long ride up the elevator and sat around talking for a while. (We also watched internet thing (which had the caption "Oh, internet, you've done it again.") that shows one dog screwing the other and as the one on top pulls out it vomits, then it reverses itself so you see the vomit fly up into the dogs mouth and the humping begins again. Very odd.) Eventually, they all decided that they wanted to sleep.
At that point, 2:30 I think, I figured sleep wouldn't really help me because I was ready to get out of the city and back to my place. I walked with my brother and his friend to his friend's car so she could get her sleeping gear and walked them back to the apartment building. We parted there. They went back in and I started walking down town.
I saw bodies in doorways covered with blankets and/or sleeping bags. I saw a couple on a corner shooting up. I was offered pot, twice, and crack and a diamond bracelet. Some guy on the other side of the street tried to get my attention by calling me "fatty" and "fat boy." I saw a girl with her hands down the front of a guy's pants while he was on the phone shouting, "I need you to tell whoever has my keys to get them to me! I gotta get in, man!" I couldn't blame him for being eager.
A little after four, I made it to my destination, an all night diner that's not Denny's, but may as well be. I had some water and pancakes and read my book for the next hour. When I was through I walked to the buses earliest stop, which picked up at 5:45. I tried to read some more, buy I was tired and my eyes wouldn't focus properly. I listened to music, instead.
The bus was on time. For as long as I can remember, I haven't slept well in moving vehicles, but I dozed. I'd hear the beginning of a song, drift off, and come back for the end. I did this for two and a halfish hours.
I opened the door to my apartment sometime after 8:30, but it still wasn't nine. I dropped my bag on the floor in front of the door and pulled my shoes off, throwing them into the kitchen. As I stumbled toward my bed, I stripped off my clothes. I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over my eyes, there was too much light coming through the blinds.
Friday, May 26, 2006
A Couple of Things
I'm letting you know that I have next Monday off and want to remind you that I don't have the internet at my apartment. There can be no new post, of any kind, from me until Tuesday.
In other news, it's been two weeks since I e-mailed you (you know who you are); do I have to get someone to force you to write back? Or do I have to start all over again by drastically changing the subject?
*sigh*
In other news, it's been two weeks since I e-mailed you (you know who you are); do I have to get someone to force you to write back? Or do I have to start all over again by drastically changing the subject?
*sigh*
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Some Stuff Off My Mind. Beware.
A week or so ago, the writer of one of the blogs on my daily crawl asked her readers how personal they get in their own blogs. She asked that because she had recently decided to break one of her blogging rules. She posted a picture of herself. In reading her blog for the past... several months, I'm pretty sure that she uses her real first name and posts pictures of the place where she lives; she had never posted a picture of herself before that one day; and she doesn't post the real names of people she knows. (At least I don't think she posts the real names. Maybe she has and I just haven't noticed.) (Oh, you won't find her linked to the right. I don't really feel comfortable linking to the blogs of people I don't know without their permission, and I don't like writing to people who I don't know to ask. It's a strange system which really won't lead to a growth in links. Oh, well.)
This got me thinking about my blogging taboos. I don't use my real name, although I know I've used it a few times, once to find pictures of other people. I don't use the real names of anyone who isn't me; I use acronyms with no explanation instead. I don't post pictures of my real self, but I did, once, when I got my glasses, which seems like a long time ago now. I don't post pictures of other people, ever. I don't explicitly state what city/town I live in, but I think, for the most part, there are plenty of clues (like links to newspaper articles) if you know this state well enough, especially for Cowcity.
I guess my taboos are about honesty through anonymity, which is ironic because nearly everyone who reads this is someone I know personally; someone I've eaten a meal with; and, in many cases, someone I've seen drunk.
So, why the need to be anonymous?
I'm not sure.
The thinking about blogging taboos started me thinking about blogging purpose. (Which was another question that the blogger from the first paragraph wanted answered, but I didn't think about it at first. I had to get through that thought process first.) Since I don't do anything that would upset or disturb the people who created me (and, aside from the occasional "fuck" or "shit" placed in posts, wouldn't upset the people who created my parents), I try to use my blog to let the people I know and who know me know what I'm doing. (I think I used "know" too many times in too short a span in that last sentence, don't you?) Usually, that means bitching about work since that's all I do. (Okay, it's not all I do. I do watch too much TV, go to the occasional movie, very rarely see a play (although I think plays may be the most magical thing I'll ever be able to experience in my life), read books, and read lots of comic only me and one of my brothers care about. I doubt many of you would find me rambling about those sorts of things all the time very interesting.) So, I guess my blog accomplishes what I set out to do, sort of.
See, I don't always post how I'm feeling. Usually, when I'm not feeling very good, I either post something that is lightly informative that isn't about me, something funny to throw people off, or nothing at all. (It's there, if you're willing to cruise the archives, but I'm pretty sure that I'm the only person who does that.) Me being depressed and writing about it does disturb and upset family members, which I don't want to do. The worst thing is that the family members who get disturbed or upset about those posts don't contact me, they contact my parents. (To my knowledge, this has only happened once because after I was told about it, I began some major censoring. My mom told me about letters and phone calls suggesting that I go see someone for help. She was told that there are pills out there that may help me. One person asked her if I may be diabetic which could cause my mood to swing so low. The one time I was actually confronted in person by a relative about some depressing posts, I smiled and played it off as a joke, even though they weren't. I didn't want to be lectured and it was at Easter, which is always one of my best days and I didn't want to ruin it for me or him by having to explain why I always fall into a funk when spring starts.) My posting tends to be like me in real life, I've found that no matter how I feel, if I put a smile on, people just assume everything is okay. Blogging that way is even easier because I don't have to worry about if you can see how the smile isn't really reaching my eyes. People reading really have to assume that what I'm writing is what I mean and how I really feel.
Sure, I'll occasionally write something with real emotion behind it. (Read the post I made about why I'm not a Democrat anymore. Even more, check out the conversation between Johnny Logic and myself. I was hoping there would be more just to give me more of an opportunity to vent, but it was not to be.) But that emotion is usually anger or frustration. (There's at least one that's me being afraid, but I don't think anyone but me knows about it.) I'm not really an angry guy, but I am often frustrated. I'm more sad than people know. The stupid things that happen in the world make me sad, especially when I know I can't do anything about them, which seems to be all the time. I like to laugh as much as I can; I'm one of the few people I know who will laugh at the TV when I'm the only one there; more than once I've been in a movie theater and the only one guffawing at the action. I don't think I put enough of those things in my blog. I should. I'm not sure how to do that though. Wouldn't that make my already too random blog even more random?
Which lead me to my next thought, should a blog be more coherent or topic related? I look at the ones that I read a lot or stumble upon, and most people seem to be much more focused than I am. Even the ones to the right on this page seem to have more focus than mine. Heels has really become about being a new mother. Johnny Logic, although not much recently, has always had an underlying desire to discuss computational philosophy (I think that's what it's called. It's something that has to do with theoretical machines and the logic used to create the machines and some of the possibilities of using these logic machines in computers to increase processing and creating artificial intelligence, I think. I could be wrong. I've had him explain it to me before and I go away thinking I understand what's going on, but I don't have the basic knowledge to safely build to the peaks he's reaching for without having them collapse. Does that make sense?) as well as keep his friends and family informed a bit, but some of the searches that have led people to his blog, in the past at least, had to do with the philosophy thing. The green apron monkey used to be, almost exclusively, about his working at 'Bucks, after he quit, he hasn't posted much. Slackbastard used to be about slowly killing yourself with booze (and drugs, but he didn't post about the drugs much, even though it was, and probably still is, a big part of his life). SuziFitz is my mom and she writes about her life, but also about making beads because beads are the whole reason she started her website. JustLetMeRead is green apron monkey's sister, she was friends with my youngest brother, she writes about general mish-mash of things, but she's pretty funny. Altered Ego and Purplehobbit are my brothers, they write a general mish-mash too...
I've gotten off topic.
Really, my thought on focusing ones blog down to a more specific topic probably increases readership. I know that the only people who read this stuff on a semi-regular basis are people I know. Most of the time, I'm okay with that. Some days, I do dream of gain Wil Wheaton sized readership, but I know that's not going to ever happen. Maybe just a little bump in the numbers of readers. Someone accidentally stumbles on my blog and finds it interesting enough to come back. I don't think that's happened, though. No new lurkers here, that I know about at least. Which, like I wrote before, is something I'm usually okay with. But, honestly, who, occasionally, doesn't think of being well known by much of the public? Who hasn't imagined people hanging off your every word and waiting with bated breath for the next post, or speech, or whatever? I think that one way do that, or come closer to doing that would be to focus to a more specific blog topic. That'd let you find a group of people interested in that one thing who like the way you write about it and spread the word, or it'd make it easier for the search engines to hit your blog (as long as Congress votes correctly on Net Neutrality, that is).
I'm not going to change the way this blog is, though. If I did, it wouldn't be mine anymore. I'm not a specific topic kind of guy. To put it in ultra-geek, if I were forced to be a class in Dungeons and Dragons, I'd be a bard because they are (or were, I'm not up on the 3rd edition or the edition 3.5 rules) the only class that isn't a really a specialization. They play music and tell stories. They can cast spells. They have thieving skills. They're decent fighters. A Bard is, to coin a phrase, a jack of all trades. (Which sort of makes them useless in game play.) I'm a bard in that I don't want to specialize and become so specific that that's all I'm good at. (Does that make sense?) I find myself wanting to go to school to continue with the 3D animation I started with when I moved to Cowcity, but I also want to go to a culinary school and learn how to do all the fancy cooking, but I also want to just be settled and done with all that schooling. Those things don't really jive, do they?
I don't know what I'm doing. Period. (Funny?)
My life hasn't turned out anything like I thought it would from when I was little. When I thought that sitcoms and movies were fairly accurate reflections of life. When I thought hard workers and nice guys ended up with the good job and the right girl. I learned pretty early on that that isn't true, but I still wish it were or that I still believe it. That's not life at all, though, the hard workers are really only rewarded with more work while the assholes get by and the nice guys are all thought of as gay until they shave their heads, get a leather jacket, and learn to say mean things to women. (Those may be generalizations that aren't really true, but they feel true. As Stephen Colbert might allow me to say, those generalizations are full of truthiness.) At least, in the end we're all the same: dead. Death is the one thing we all work toward without even trying.
You want to know something that's sort of contradictory? I don't like to lie, but I don't like worrying people. Rarely are those two things exclusive. So, I have to ask: is it a lie if you don't tell everything?
My favorite answer, really the only answer I give, to the question "How are you?" is "Okay." I like "okay" because it covers from "I'm feeling the best I've ever felt!" to "This is the shittiest day of my life, but I'm alive." The best part is that the listener is the one who interprets what "okay" means. The listener gets to decide if "okay" means "better than the best person ever" or "I may as well be dead" or what ever is in between the two. Rarely does a listener want to interperate "okay" in a negative way. So, is it a lie?
I'm not sure, but I know I say "okay" a lot when I mean "Well, I'm still alive."
I keep thinking about times when I go out. Of which there aren't many.
I also keep thinking about an old friend who supposedly lives in the city and works somewhere near the park. I don't know if it's true. I sometimes think that I should take a day and just wander around that area hoping to see her or dropping into the stores and asking for her. I doubt I will, but I'd really like to see her and speak with her again. I trusted her and, although she may not have completely trusted me, it'd be good just to visit. Well, good for me. The last time I saw her, it seemed like I was part of her past that she didn't want to revisit. Is possible for two old friends to become friends again without the past getting in the way? I'm not sure.
Okay, that's it for me. If you actually waded through all that, why?
This got me thinking about my blogging taboos. I don't use my real name, although I know I've used it a few times, once to find pictures of other people. I don't use the real names of anyone who isn't me; I use acronyms with no explanation instead. I don't post pictures of my real self, but I did, once, when I got my glasses, which seems like a long time ago now. I don't post pictures of other people, ever. I don't explicitly state what city/town I live in, but I think, for the most part, there are plenty of clues (like links to newspaper articles) if you know this state well enough, especially for Cowcity.
I guess my taboos are about honesty through anonymity, which is ironic because nearly everyone who reads this is someone I know personally; someone I've eaten a meal with; and, in many cases, someone I've seen drunk.
So, why the need to be anonymous?
I'm not sure.
The thinking about blogging taboos started me thinking about blogging purpose. (Which was another question that the blogger from the first paragraph wanted answered, but I didn't think about it at first. I had to get through that thought process first.) Since I don't do anything that would upset or disturb the people who created me (and, aside from the occasional "fuck" or "shit" placed in posts, wouldn't upset the people who created my parents), I try to use my blog to let the people I know and who know me know what I'm doing. (I think I used "know" too many times in too short a span in that last sentence, don't you?) Usually, that means bitching about work since that's all I do. (Okay, it's not all I do. I do watch too much TV, go to the occasional movie, very rarely see a play (although I think plays may be the most magical thing I'll ever be able to experience in my life), read books, and read lots of comic only me and one of my brothers care about. I doubt many of you would find me rambling about those sorts of things all the time very interesting.) So, I guess my blog accomplishes what I set out to do, sort of.
See, I don't always post how I'm feeling. Usually, when I'm not feeling very good, I either post something that is lightly informative that isn't about me, something funny to throw people off, or nothing at all. (It's there, if you're willing to cruise the archives, but I'm pretty sure that I'm the only person who does that.) Me being depressed and writing about it does disturb and upset family members, which I don't want to do. The worst thing is that the family members who get disturbed or upset about those posts don't contact me, they contact my parents. (To my knowledge, this has only happened once because after I was told about it, I began some major censoring. My mom told me about letters and phone calls suggesting that I go see someone for help. She was told that there are pills out there that may help me. One person asked her if I may be diabetic which could cause my mood to swing so low. The one time I was actually confronted in person by a relative about some depressing posts, I smiled and played it off as a joke, even though they weren't. I didn't want to be lectured and it was at Easter, which is always one of my best days and I didn't want to ruin it for me or him by having to explain why I always fall into a funk when spring starts.) My posting tends to be like me in real life, I've found that no matter how I feel, if I put a smile on, people just assume everything is okay. Blogging that way is even easier because I don't have to worry about if you can see how the smile isn't really reaching my eyes. People reading really have to assume that what I'm writing is what I mean and how I really feel.
Sure, I'll occasionally write something with real emotion behind it. (Read the post I made about why I'm not a Democrat anymore. Even more, check out the conversation between Johnny Logic and myself. I was hoping there would be more just to give me more of an opportunity to vent, but it was not to be.) But that emotion is usually anger or frustration. (There's at least one that's me being afraid, but I don't think anyone but me knows about it.) I'm not really an angry guy, but I am often frustrated. I'm more sad than people know. The stupid things that happen in the world make me sad, especially when I know I can't do anything about them, which seems to be all the time. I like to laugh as much as I can; I'm one of the few people I know who will laugh at the TV when I'm the only one there; more than once I've been in a movie theater and the only one guffawing at the action. I don't think I put enough of those things in my blog. I should. I'm not sure how to do that though. Wouldn't that make my already too random blog even more random?
Which lead me to my next thought, should a blog be more coherent or topic related? I look at the ones that I read a lot or stumble upon, and most people seem to be much more focused than I am. Even the ones to the right on this page seem to have more focus than mine. Heels has really become about being a new mother. Johnny Logic, although not much recently, has always had an underlying desire to discuss computational philosophy (I think that's what it's called. It's something that has to do with theoretical machines and the logic used to create the machines and some of the possibilities of using these logic machines in computers to increase processing and creating artificial intelligence, I think. I could be wrong. I've had him explain it to me before and I go away thinking I understand what's going on, but I don't have the basic knowledge to safely build to the peaks he's reaching for without having them collapse. Does that make sense?) as well as keep his friends and family informed a bit, but some of the searches that have led people to his blog, in the past at least, had to do with the philosophy thing. The green apron monkey used to be, almost exclusively, about his working at 'Bucks, after he quit, he hasn't posted much. Slackbastard used to be about slowly killing yourself with booze (and drugs, but he didn't post about the drugs much, even though it was, and probably still is, a big part of his life). SuziFitz is my mom and she writes about her life, but also about making beads because beads are the whole reason she started her website. JustLetMeRead is green apron monkey's sister, she was friends with my youngest brother, she writes about general mish-mash of things, but she's pretty funny. Altered Ego and Purplehobbit are my brothers, they write a general mish-mash too...
I've gotten off topic.
Really, my thought on focusing ones blog down to a more specific topic probably increases readership. I know that the only people who read this stuff on a semi-regular basis are people I know. Most of the time, I'm okay with that. Some days, I do dream of gain Wil Wheaton sized readership, but I know that's not going to ever happen. Maybe just a little bump in the numbers of readers. Someone accidentally stumbles on my blog and finds it interesting enough to come back. I don't think that's happened, though. No new lurkers here, that I know about at least. Which, like I wrote before, is something I'm usually okay with. But, honestly, who, occasionally, doesn't think of being well known by much of the public? Who hasn't imagined people hanging off your every word and waiting with bated breath for the next post, or speech, or whatever? I think that one way do that, or come closer to doing that would be to focus to a more specific blog topic. That'd let you find a group of people interested in that one thing who like the way you write about it and spread the word, or it'd make it easier for the search engines to hit your blog (as long as Congress votes correctly on Net Neutrality, that is).
I'm not going to change the way this blog is, though. If I did, it wouldn't be mine anymore. I'm not a specific topic kind of guy. To put it in ultra-geek, if I were forced to be a class in Dungeons and Dragons, I'd be a bard because they are (or were, I'm not up on the 3rd edition or the edition 3.5 rules) the only class that isn't a really a specialization. They play music and tell stories. They can cast spells. They have thieving skills. They're decent fighters. A Bard is, to coin a phrase, a jack of all trades. (Which sort of makes them useless in game play.) I'm a bard in that I don't want to specialize and become so specific that that's all I'm good at. (Does that make sense?) I find myself wanting to go to school to continue with the 3D animation I started with when I moved to Cowcity, but I also want to go to a culinary school and learn how to do all the fancy cooking, but I also want to just be settled and done with all that schooling. Those things don't really jive, do they?
I don't know what I'm doing. Period. (Funny?)
My life hasn't turned out anything like I thought it would from when I was little. When I thought that sitcoms and movies were fairly accurate reflections of life. When I thought hard workers and nice guys ended up with the good job and the right girl. I learned pretty early on that that isn't true, but I still wish it were or that I still believe it. That's not life at all, though, the hard workers are really only rewarded with more work while the assholes get by and the nice guys are all thought of as gay until they shave their heads, get a leather jacket, and learn to say mean things to women. (Those may be generalizations that aren't really true, but they feel true. As Stephen Colbert might allow me to say, those generalizations are full of truthiness.) At least, in the end we're all the same: dead. Death is the one thing we all work toward without even trying.
You want to know something that's sort of contradictory? I don't like to lie, but I don't like worrying people. Rarely are those two things exclusive. So, I have to ask: is it a lie if you don't tell everything?
My favorite answer, really the only answer I give, to the question "How are you?" is "Okay." I like "okay" because it covers from "I'm feeling the best I've ever felt!" to "This is the shittiest day of my life, but I'm alive." The best part is that the listener is the one who interprets what "okay" means. The listener gets to decide if "okay" means "better than the best person ever" or "I may as well be dead" or what ever is in between the two. Rarely does a listener want to interperate "okay" in a negative way. So, is it a lie?
I'm not sure, but I know I say "okay" a lot when I mean "Well, I'm still alive."
I keep thinking about times when I go out. Of which there aren't many.
I also keep thinking about an old friend who supposedly lives in the city and works somewhere near the park. I don't know if it's true. I sometimes think that I should take a day and just wander around that area hoping to see her or dropping into the stores and asking for her. I doubt I will, but I'd really like to see her and speak with her again. I trusted her and, although she may not have completely trusted me, it'd be good just to visit. Well, good for me. The last time I saw her, it seemed like I was part of her past that she didn't want to revisit. Is possible for two old friends to become friends again without the past getting in the way? I'm not sure.
Okay, that's it for me. If you actually waded through all that, why?
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Summer Movies
I'll admit to looking forward quite a bit to Superman later this summer. (Enough to seriously consider the midnight showing.)
And even though the early reviewers of X-Men seem to think it's offensive garbage, I'll be seeing that this weekend.
The movie I'm really excited about, though, is A Prairie Home Companion. (Check out its trailer here.) It has an amazing cast and Robert Altman (with some help, so the rumors say, from Paul Thomas Anderson) it'll either be deliriously good or the best disaster of the summer.
I can't wait.
And even though the early reviewers of X-Men seem to think it's offensive garbage, I'll be seeing that this weekend.
The movie I'm really excited about, though, is A Prairie Home Companion. (Check out its trailer here.) It has an amazing cast and Robert Altman (with some help, so the rumors say, from Paul Thomas Anderson) it'll either be deliriously good or the best disaster of the summer.
I can't wait.
Wednesday, Purpleday
On Wednesdays, to show solidarity, our union suggests that all members wear purple.
There are two colors I hate wearing, yellow and purple. (I suppose that sort of makes sense since they are complimentary colors.) Having them covering a large portion of my body makes me uncomfortable, for some reason.
Out in the regular world, I like yellow and purple. I lived in a house that was painted yellow. I lived in a room that was painted a light purple. (I was in fifth grade. I wanted my room painted a color other than white. My parents didn't have any money and neither did I. There was a can of free purple paint my mom could get from school. We added semi-gloss white that was left-over from when my parents painted the inside of the house three years before. My mom and I painted my room. C'est la vie.) Those two things never bothered me. I just don't like wearing them.
I wore the damn purple shirt when I went to Cowcity for the rally. I did it to try to be a part of the experience. As soon as the rally was over, I pulled the shirt off and changed back into what I was wearing before.
Which brings us back to the beginning. It's Wednesday and the ladies in the office who support the union are wearing purple. (Some wear purple regular clothes and some wear the free purple t-shirts the union hands out.)
I am not.
Each Wednesday I'm asked where my purple is.
Each Wednesday I say I don't like wearing purple.
This has been going on since last November.
There are two colors I hate wearing, yellow and purple. (I suppose that sort of makes sense since they are complimentary colors.) Having them covering a large portion of my body makes me uncomfortable, for some reason.
Out in the regular world, I like yellow and purple. I lived in a house that was painted yellow. I lived in a room that was painted a light purple. (I was in fifth grade. I wanted my room painted a color other than white. My parents didn't have any money and neither did I. There was a can of free purple paint my mom could get from school. We added semi-gloss white that was left-over from when my parents painted the inside of the house three years before. My mom and I painted my room. C'est la vie.) Those two things never bothered me. I just don't like wearing them.
I wore the damn purple shirt when I went to Cowcity for the rally. I did it to try to be a part of the experience. As soon as the rally was over, I pulled the shirt off and changed back into what I was wearing before.
Which brings us back to the beginning. It's Wednesday and the ladies in the office who support the union are wearing purple. (Some wear purple regular clothes and some wear the free purple t-shirts the union hands out.)
I am not.
Each Wednesday I'm asked where my purple is.
Each Wednesday I say I don't like wearing purple.
This has been going on since last November.
SOL
Right now, I'm reading a document sent in by a lawyer. It's trying to argue something about Statute of Limitations and calls them SOL everywhere except for the first sentence. I can't help reading that as "shit out of luck," which really hurts the argument.
Monday, May 22, 2006
"Asprin Commercials Give Me Headaches."
Yesterday, I woke up with a headache.
One of those headaches that wakes you up before 6AM on a Sunday and won't let you go back to sleep.
One of those headaches that throbs and with each throb you get more and more nauseous.
One of those headaches that hurt so much that you lay in bed and seriously consider peeing there rather than walking to the bathroom because any moving will only make your head hurt worse.
Eventually, I got up and out because I'd rather be in pain than wallowing in my own waste.
After the bathroom, I dragged my feet to the room with the TV, settled down on some pillows and watched the CBS Sunday Morning show. (The only morning show that I can stand watching even when my head is fine. P.S. The website sucks. I was hoping that it would have a simple elegance to it, like the show does. Instead, it just looks like every other CBS News site.) I watched it from start to finish without recording it first. I don't think I've ever done that before.
I don't remember much. Stuff sold at Target. Some weird boxy houses. A toilet. Cute puppies.
The website says the show was about design. I don't understand how the puppies fit into design, but the other stuff makes sense.
I don't remember moving for the entire hour and a half of the show. I probably shifted my body from time to time, but I didn't get up. I tried to not move my head.
After the show ended, I remember that my mom gave me some super pills just in case I got a headache of horrendous caliber.
I pulled myself up and staggered around my apartment looking for the bag I brought with me the last time I visited Cowtown. I knew that that was where the pills were.
I searched for what seemed like an hour, but was really about ten minutes before I, literally, stumbled over the bag. In the little pocket without a hole, I found the handful of pills my mom gave me, wrapped carefully in pairs by the company. I grabbed one serving of the pills and lurched toward the kitchen for water so I could swallow my little chemical saviors.
I gulped down water and pills and once again settled myself in front of the TV. This time, I watched my bootleg Daria.
By the end of the third episode, I was feeling better. My head still hurt, but very lightly. I no longer felt nauseous. I could function.
I just thought you all might like to know all that.
One of those headaches that wakes you up before 6AM on a Sunday and won't let you go back to sleep.
One of those headaches that throbs and with each throb you get more and more nauseous.
One of those headaches that hurt so much that you lay in bed and seriously consider peeing there rather than walking to the bathroom because any moving will only make your head hurt worse.
Eventually, I got up and out because I'd rather be in pain than wallowing in my own waste.
After the bathroom, I dragged my feet to the room with the TV, settled down on some pillows and watched the CBS Sunday Morning show. (The only morning show that I can stand watching even when my head is fine. P.S. The website sucks. I was hoping that it would have a simple elegance to it, like the show does. Instead, it just looks like every other CBS News site.) I watched it from start to finish without recording it first. I don't think I've ever done that before.
I don't remember much. Stuff sold at Target. Some weird boxy houses. A toilet. Cute puppies.
The website says the show was about design. I don't understand how the puppies fit into design, but the other stuff makes sense.
I don't remember moving for the entire hour and a half of the show. I probably shifted my body from time to time, but I didn't get up. I tried to not move my head.
After the show ended, I remember that my mom gave me some super pills just in case I got a headache of horrendous caliber.
I pulled myself up and staggered around my apartment looking for the bag I brought with me the last time I visited Cowtown. I knew that that was where the pills were.
I searched for what seemed like an hour, but was really about ten minutes before I, literally, stumbled over the bag. In the little pocket without a hole, I found the handful of pills my mom gave me, wrapped carefully in pairs by the company. I grabbed one serving of the pills and lurched toward the kitchen for water so I could swallow my little chemical saviors.
I gulped down water and pills and once again settled myself in front of the TV. This time, I watched my bootleg Daria.
By the end of the third episode, I was feeling better. My head still hurt, but very lightly. I no longer felt nauseous. I could function.
I just thought you all might like to know all that.
Friday, May 19, 2006
"Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)"
You ever have a moment where a song that you've heard all you life and you've enjoyed suddenly becomes... new?
As I was walking to work this morning, trying out a new route, "Norwegian Wood" started to play and I was captivated. It was the second song I heard after leaving my apartments, and the only song I played on the rest of the way to work.
I've heard this song all my life. Rubber Soul is probably my favorite of the Beatles's albums. I've always enjoyed the melody and clever rhyme scheme of the song. But when I heard it earlier, there was something... more.
I'm not exactly sure what the more is, but it made the song have a physical impact on me. Like I was hit in the stomach.
As I was walking to work this morning, trying out a new route, "Norwegian Wood" started to play and I was captivated. It was the second song I heard after leaving my apartments, and the only song I played on the rest of the way to work.
I've heard this song all my life. Rubber Soul is probably my favorite of the Beatles's albums. I've always enjoyed the melody and clever rhyme scheme of the song. But when I heard it earlier, there was something... more.
I'm not exactly sure what the more is, but it made the song have a physical impact on me. Like I was hit in the stomach.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Huh?
How would you react when a coworker asks you if you knew he and his wife were separated and are getting a divorce? Keep in mind that you don't know this coworker and he's actually in a totally different class than you; you work in a different area than he does (he has his own office and secretary); you don't hang out with him, ever; Oh, he also makes about four times as much money as you do. How would you react?
My reaction this morning (He told me as we were walking to work. He spotted me and hurried to catch up with me. I had changed the way I walk to work once so I wouldn't walk with him. I guess I'll have to do it again.) was just a blank look. I didn't know what to say.
I didn't want to say that it was horrible new. What if it's good for him and his wife and his kids?
I didn't want to be sarcastic and say that it was lovely news. What if he didn't catch the sarcasm?
I he had been paying attention to me, he may have realized that the look on my face was all about trying to figure out what to say.
"Did you know my wife and I are separated?" he asked.
"No," I said.
And I didn't know. I tried my best to stay out of the non-work-related gossip while I worked at 'Bucks. It was hard, there, because there are so many younger employees who like to shout their relationship woes from the Frap bar. Here, there's no effort involved in staying out of it. I see a group of whispering women; I turn around and scoot out in a hurry. The less I know about these people, the better.
"Oh," he said, sounding surprised, which struck me as odd because why would he expect me to know such a thing. "Well, we're separated and getting divorced." Then he went on about... well... I don't know what. I was still trying to figure out what my reaction should have been.
Maybe it'll help you to know what we were talking about before the divorce came up.
I was walking down the street, listening to music, when I heard my name from behind me. I, foolishly, turned around and saw... I'll call him JWSC. He smiled at me and asked me what I was listening to.
I pulled my usual dodge and said, "Anything, really: music, comedy, poetry, radio shows, whatever." (I was listening to the trailer for The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Tertiary Phase at that moment. Because it's funny, people.)
"Oh, do you have Sirius?" he asked, smiling again.
"No," I said, "just my 'Pod."
"Ah," he said, still smiling. "Do you use iTunes?"
"No," I said, "it all comes from my CDs, CDs I scammed from my dad, and music I pulled from my old roommate's computer."
"Oh," he said, frowning quickly and then smiling again.
"Besides," I said, "I don't have the internet at my apartment."
"Yeah," he said, his smile sagging a bit, "I know what you mean." That's when he said, "Did you know my wife and I are separated?"
How's that for a seeming non-sequitur? (I say seeming because he eventually found a way to connect the internet to his impending divorce.)
And that's why I didn't know how I should have reacted. I still don't know, for that matter.
On a different note, here's a cropping of a picture one of my brothers sent to our mother for Mother's Day:
I'll be back tomorrow somewhere between the beginning of work and the end.
'Night.
My reaction this morning (He told me as we were walking to work. He spotted me and hurried to catch up with me. I had changed the way I walk to work once so I wouldn't walk with him. I guess I'll have to do it again.) was just a blank look. I didn't know what to say.
I didn't want to say that it was horrible new. What if it's good for him and his wife and his kids?
I didn't want to be sarcastic and say that it was lovely news. What if he didn't catch the sarcasm?
I he had been paying attention to me, he may have realized that the look on my face was all about trying to figure out what to say.
"Did you know my wife and I are separated?" he asked.
"No," I said.
And I didn't know. I tried my best to stay out of the non-work-related gossip while I worked at 'Bucks. It was hard, there, because there are so many younger employees who like to shout their relationship woes from the Frap bar. Here, there's no effort involved in staying out of it. I see a group of whispering women; I turn around and scoot out in a hurry. The less I know about these people, the better.
"Oh," he said, sounding surprised, which struck me as odd because why would he expect me to know such a thing. "Well, we're separated and getting divorced." Then he went on about... well... I don't know what. I was still trying to figure out what my reaction should have been.
Maybe it'll help you to know what we were talking about before the divorce came up.
I was walking down the street, listening to music, when I heard my name from behind me. I, foolishly, turned around and saw... I'll call him JWSC. He smiled at me and asked me what I was listening to.
I pulled my usual dodge and said, "Anything, really: music, comedy, poetry, radio shows, whatever." (I was listening to the trailer for The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Tertiary Phase at that moment. Because it's funny, people.)
"Oh, do you have Sirius?" he asked, smiling again.
"No," I said, "just my 'Pod."
"Ah," he said, still smiling. "Do you use iTunes?"
"No," I said, "it all comes from my CDs, CDs I scammed from my dad, and music I pulled from my old roommate's computer."
"Oh," he said, frowning quickly and then smiling again.
"Besides," I said, "I don't have the internet at my apartment."
"Yeah," he said, his smile sagging a bit, "I know what you mean." That's when he said, "Did you know my wife and I are separated?"
How's that for a seeming non-sequitur? (I say seeming because he eventually found a way to connect the internet to his impending divorce.)
And that's why I didn't know how I should have reacted. I still don't know, for that matter.
On a different note, here's a cropping of a picture one of my brothers sent to our mother for Mother's Day:
I'll be back tomorrow somewhere between the beginning of work and the end.
'Night.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Norma Rae, I Am Not
As I crouched over to change the paper in the (dot matrix) printer, my supervisor asked, "So, ahhh, have you guys voted yet? You know, to strike? The union strike thing?"
"No," I said. "I don't think the ballots go out until the end of the month."
"Oh," she said. "Well, ahhh, I just wanted you to, ahhh, know that I... don't strike. Ever. My, ahhh, husband and I are... strike breakers."
I was about to say that she had nothing to worry about because she's part of a different union when she said, "It happened, ahhh, when my husband was working for a car... dealership. There were these... horrible letters. They, ahhh, threatened my husband. My house, they... came to my house and, ahhh, threatened my kids."
I stood up to adjust the paper in the printer.
"Unions are... just evil, ahhh, things."
I rolled my eyes and asked her how to reset the printer, even though I know how, but it stopped her talking. Thank goodness for that.
I don't know much about the strike or how the vote works.
I do know that on Saturday, there's a meeting somewhere in town to "discuss" the ballot and the potential strike.
Supposedly, if the union does decide to strike, it'll be a rolling strike. That means that only certain groups of employees in certain cities will be out on the line, not everyone in the union.
Supposedly, my office won't be affected since it's very small, compared to almost all the others (I can only think of two that are smaller.) and, adding together all the people who are in this union in the building, the number isn't very large.
Sill, I'm worried that if the strike is approved that my office will eventually be called upon to strike. I think this because the governor wants to be a hardliner, especially during his election year, and wants to look responsible by cutting pay to state employees.
If the strike does come here, I'm worried about how long it may last. I have the money saved right now to pay one month's rent and maybe my electric bill. Not my student loans. Not my car insurance. (Of course, I could pay the full amount of my insurance this month, but that'd leave me without enough to have that cushion of one months rent.) I'd be completely drained of cash.
Is it possible a strike could last that long? Yes. Is it probable? No. Isn't it better, though, to hope for the best and prepare for the worst?
Like all the other employees in this union, old and new, I'd like to see a contract that doesn't eliminate two holidays, force five furlough days, and make it so the employer pays a fixed amount for doctor visits rather than the percentage it pays now. Personally, I'd be happy with a contract that keeps me at the level I'm at, but I'm a newbie just trying to get away from working pay check to pay check. I'm not the single mother whose husband died last year. I'm not a newly wed trying to start a family.
I'm just a guy, you know?
So, I have no idea how I'll vote.
"No," I said. "I don't think the ballots go out until the end of the month."
"Oh," she said. "Well, ahhh, I just wanted you to, ahhh, know that I... don't strike. Ever. My, ahhh, husband and I are... strike breakers."
I was about to say that she had nothing to worry about because she's part of a different union when she said, "It happened, ahhh, when my husband was working for a car... dealership. There were these... horrible letters. They, ahhh, threatened my husband. My house, they... came to my house and, ahhh, threatened my kids."
I stood up to adjust the paper in the printer.
"Unions are... just evil, ahhh, things."
I rolled my eyes and asked her how to reset the printer, even though I know how, but it stopped her talking. Thank goodness for that.
I don't know much about the strike or how the vote works.
I do know that on Saturday, there's a meeting somewhere in town to "discuss" the ballot and the potential strike.
Supposedly, if the union does decide to strike, it'll be a rolling strike. That means that only certain groups of employees in certain cities will be out on the line, not everyone in the union.
Supposedly, my office won't be affected since it's very small, compared to almost all the others (I can only think of two that are smaller.) and, adding together all the people who are in this union in the building, the number isn't very large.
Sill, I'm worried that if the strike is approved that my office will eventually be called upon to strike. I think this because the governor wants to be a hardliner, especially during his election year, and wants to look responsible by cutting pay to state employees.
If the strike does come here, I'm worried about how long it may last. I have the money saved right now to pay one month's rent and maybe my electric bill. Not my student loans. Not my car insurance. (Of course, I could pay the full amount of my insurance this month, but that'd leave me without enough to have that cushion of one months rent.) I'd be completely drained of cash.
Is it possible a strike could last that long? Yes. Is it probable? No. Isn't it better, though, to hope for the best and prepare for the worst?
Like all the other employees in this union, old and new, I'd like to see a contract that doesn't eliminate two holidays, force five furlough days, and make it so the employer pays a fixed amount for doctor visits rather than the percentage it pays now. Personally, I'd be happy with a contract that keeps me at the level I'm at, but I'm a newbie just trying to get away from working pay check to pay check. I'm not the single mother whose husband died last year. I'm not a newly wed trying to start a family.
I'm just a guy, you know?
So, I have no idea how I'll vote.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Policy?
So, the President is planning on sending the National Guard to "defend" the southern boarders of California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas from the influx of immigrants, among other things. I have some questions.
First question: Who's going to pay for the National Guard moving into these states? Will it be the federal government, who made these plans, or the states, who I don't think actually asked for the National Guard to get involved? Will it be funded through the Boarder Patrol and give the nation an approximation of how much 6,000 new people in the Boarder Patrol will cost?
(Ultimately, I know, the people who pay are the people who aren't actually making big decisions, but there are a lot more people to spread the fee around to if all the tax payers in the nation are involved as opposed to the tax payers of four states.)
Second Question: Will the National Guard rotation now be one year Iraq, six month to work, one year boarder patrol, six months to work, one year Iraq?
Third Question: Why is it the job of the National Guard to keep people out of the country, but not evacuate cities in the path of a hurricane?
Fourth Question: How is creating a path for "illegal immigrants who have roots in our country and want to stay ... [by paying] a meaningful penalty for breaking the law, [by paying] their taxes, [by learning] English, and [by working] in a job for a number of years" not a form of amnesty?
Is it just because it will take several years to achieve and it has more steps than the general amnesty granted in the '70s?
Fifth Question: What, exactly, is a "temporary worker program" and will it extend to workers from any nation or just Mexico?
Sixth Question: Bush said, "We need to hold employers to account for the workers they hire." Yet he only spoke about making it easier to verify legal immigrants and harder for illegal immigrants to get phony documents. How is that holding employers accountable for hiring illegal immigrants? Doesn't it just make it easier for employers who like to hire illegal immigrants to find the cheap labor?
Shouldn't employers be held accountable through harsh fines or boards of directors being thrown in prison? Wouldn't that slow the hiring of illegal immigrants and, probably, slow the influx if illegal immigrants?
Seventh Question: What good will a "high tech" wall do? Allow us to count the number of people who enter illegally more accurately?
Eighth Question: Wasn't the Republican Party once for shrinking the size of the federal government and being financially responsible? What happened? (And saying "9/11 happened" won't work. All those men came to this country legally.)
Ninth Question: Isn't immigration policy just a convenient and easy way to rile up Congress and make it look like they're actually doing something constructive before the mid-term elections this November?
Tenth Question: Since this immigration thing is all about getting Republicans elected (or reelected), when is the Strategic Oil Reserve going to be tapped to make Republicans really popular?
Click this sentence for a transcript of the speech.
First question: Who's going to pay for the National Guard moving into these states? Will it be the federal government, who made these plans, or the states, who I don't think actually asked for the National Guard to get involved? Will it be funded through the Boarder Patrol and give the nation an approximation of how much 6,000 new people in the Boarder Patrol will cost?
(Ultimately, I know, the people who pay are the people who aren't actually making big decisions, but there are a lot more people to spread the fee around to if all the tax payers in the nation are involved as opposed to the tax payers of four states.)
Second Question: Will the National Guard rotation now be one year Iraq, six month to work, one year boarder patrol, six months to work, one year Iraq?
Third Question: Why is it the job of the National Guard to keep people out of the country, but not evacuate cities in the path of a hurricane?
Fourth Question: How is creating a path for "illegal immigrants who have roots in our country and want to stay ... [by paying] a meaningful penalty for breaking the law, [by paying] their taxes, [by learning] English, and [by working] in a job for a number of years" not a form of amnesty?
Is it just because it will take several years to achieve and it has more steps than the general amnesty granted in the '70s?
Fifth Question: What, exactly, is a "temporary worker program" and will it extend to workers from any nation or just Mexico?
Sixth Question: Bush said, "We need to hold employers to account for the workers they hire." Yet he only spoke about making it easier to verify legal immigrants and harder for illegal immigrants to get phony documents. How is that holding employers accountable for hiring illegal immigrants? Doesn't it just make it easier for employers who like to hire illegal immigrants to find the cheap labor?
Shouldn't employers be held accountable through harsh fines or boards of directors being thrown in prison? Wouldn't that slow the hiring of illegal immigrants and, probably, slow the influx if illegal immigrants?
Seventh Question: What good will a "high tech" wall do? Allow us to count the number of people who enter illegally more accurately?
Eighth Question: Wasn't the Republican Party once for shrinking the size of the federal government and being financially responsible? What happened? (And saying "9/11 happened" won't work. All those men came to this country legally.)
Ninth Question: Isn't immigration policy just a convenient and easy way to rile up Congress and make it look like they're actually doing something constructive before the mid-term elections this November?
Tenth Question: Since this immigration thing is all about getting Republicans elected (or reelected), when is the Strategic Oil Reserve going to be tapped to make Republicans really popular?
Click this sentence for a transcript of the speech.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Sentences
Something light and airy is what's called for, right?
I don't have that in me.
Right now, I don't have much in me.
Except for the average human insides, that is.
We all share those, I think.
As usual, I should be looking for something to do that involves work, but I'd rather play Flow.
It's not that I think I'm wasting the State's time and money by playing games rather than working; it's that I'm wasting my time.
I'd rather waste my time away from work.
At least then, I'd waste my time reading something, watching something, sleeping, or walking.
Instead, I waste my time trying to look like I'm busy doing work so my supervisor doesn't "find" me something to do.
Several someones told me that I should write a story or a novel during my "down" time.
I don't have that in me right now.
Not here.
Not at my apartment.
The ability to create a world or words for an extended length of time just isn't in me.
When I was young(er) I thought that I did.
Maybe it's all about growing up.
Maybe it's all about confidence.
Maybe it's all about knowing your bliss.
Maybe it's about nothing at all.
I don't have that in me.
Right now, I don't have much in me.
Except for the average human insides, that is.
We all share those, I think.
As usual, I should be looking for something to do that involves work, but I'd rather play Flow.
It's not that I think I'm wasting the State's time and money by playing games rather than working; it's that I'm wasting my time.
I'd rather waste my time away from work.
At least then, I'd waste my time reading something, watching something, sleeping, or walking.
Instead, I waste my time trying to look like I'm busy doing work so my supervisor doesn't "find" me something to do.
Several someones told me that I should write a story or a novel during my "down" time.
I don't have that in me right now.
Not here.
Not at my apartment.
The ability to create a world or words for an extended length of time just isn't in me.
When I was young(er) I thought that I did.
Maybe it's all about growing up.
Maybe it's all about confidence.
Maybe it's all about knowing your bliss.
Maybe it's about nothing at all.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Is No News Good News?
Would it surprise you to know that I don't follow the news anymore?
When I lived in Cowcity, I'd watch the network news (usually CBS because I like the way Dan Rather sounded, there's something soothing in his drawl) every evening. (There's something comforting in his voice.) I read The New York Times online to find out what had happened in the world and nation. When I was at work, I'd swipe a copy of The Sacramento Bee to keep up on what was going on in the state. In my car, I had the station tuned to NPR (except after midnight, because I didn't care for the SF based shows) so I could get some breaking national and international news every hour (or half hour, depending on the time of day) as well as hear their take on events.
When I moved back to Cowtown and lived with my parents, I had lost the TV, but continued with the Times. I rarely perused the local paper because it didn't do a very good job reporting state news. I still listened to NPR each time I got into my car.
During that time, I started to get sick of the news I was reading about or hearing. There were lots of reports on things to be afraid of. (Avian flu was the new SARs.) Neither state nor federal government seemed to be able to do things to actually help the people, well, anywhere. Stories were starting to break about Congressmen being corrupt. (Did that actually surprise anyone?) The Scooter Libby thing was underway. Wave after horrible wave of Iraq news washed over me. On and on it went.
About a month before I moved, I stopped checking out the Times. I just couldn't take the news anymore.
After Christmas, I quit listening to NPR, except for Fresh Air, Talk of the Nation: Science Friday, and A Prairie Home Companion, when I can.
All the news seemed so repetitive, so negative. Like it was trying to force to close my eyes, cover my ears, and stop thinking, just fear. I couldn't deal with that anymore.
So I quit the news. I know it's still out there. It's right at my fingertips at this moment, but I don't need it.
Today, I get all my news from comedy: The Onion, The Daily Show With Jon Stewart, The Colbert Report, Real Time with Bill Maher, and Weekend Update. (The NBC site is really out of date.) It's not real and it's not substantial, but it's also not about making me afraid of living and next month, it'll only be The Onion.
I know that doing this to me is like sticking my head in the sand, but I can't care right now.
I'm sick of the fear that's thrust upon people.
Maybe, in a few months, I'll start looking at real news, but for now, I don't want to.
When I lived in Cowcity, I'd watch the network news (usually CBS because I like the way Dan Rather sounded, there's something soothing in his drawl) every evening. (There's something comforting in his voice.) I read The New York Times online to find out what had happened in the world and nation. When I was at work, I'd swipe a copy of The Sacramento Bee to keep up on what was going on in the state. In my car, I had the station tuned to NPR (except after midnight, because I didn't care for the SF based shows) so I could get some breaking national and international news every hour (or half hour, depending on the time of day) as well as hear their take on events.
When I moved back to Cowtown and lived with my parents, I had lost the TV, but continued with the Times. I rarely perused the local paper because it didn't do a very good job reporting state news. I still listened to NPR each time I got into my car.
During that time, I started to get sick of the news I was reading about or hearing. There were lots of reports on things to be afraid of. (Avian flu was the new SARs.) Neither state nor federal government seemed to be able to do things to actually help the people, well, anywhere. Stories were starting to break about Congressmen being corrupt. (Did that actually surprise anyone?) The Scooter Libby thing was underway. Wave after horrible wave of Iraq news washed over me. On and on it went.
About a month before I moved, I stopped checking out the Times. I just couldn't take the news anymore.
After Christmas, I quit listening to NPR, except for Fresh Air, Talk of the Nation: Science Friday, and A Prairie Home Companion, when I can.
All the news seemed so repetitive, so negative. Like it was trying to force to close my eyes, cover my ears, and stop thinking, just fear. I couldn't deal with that anymore.
So I quit the news. I know it's still out there. It's right at my fingertips at this moment, but I don't need it.
Today, I get all my news from comedy: The Onion, The Daily Show With Jon Stewart, The Colbert Report, Real Time with Bill Maher, and Weekend Update. (The NBC site is really out of date.) It's not real and it's not substantial, but it's also not about making me afraid of living and next month, it'll only be The Onion.
I know that doing this to me is like sticking my head in the sand, but I can't care right now.
I'm sick of the fear that's thrust upon people.
Maybe, in a few months, I'll start looking at real news, but for now, I don't want to.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
An Evening Story
Once upon a time, I was a political junkie.
It was, oddly enough, during the 2002 mid-term elections. I could have told you all the hotly contested seats in the house because I was hoping that some how the Democrats would be able to capture the house and delay or stall the, then, upcoming "war" in Iraq and Afghanistan. (I couldn't now, though.)
Daily, I was on the internet checking out The New York Times and CNN and even Fox News (to get a different perspective, I scoffed a lot in those days) to find out what was happening. I probably tracked the polls as closely as the DCCC, although I didn't have access to as many polls as they did.
I may have gone a little insane, but that was my business.
One thing I didn't do was get involved in the election in my district. That district is redder than the blood that pours onto the ground each day in a war. So, there was no reason. Besides, I'm not a people person.
In the end, the Democrats got crushed. I was crushed, but not surprised. I knew the runoff and spin and fear mongering after 9/11 would push the Republicans into office, but I was hoping that, for once, the public would vote with their hearts or head instead of their fear.
That was the day I decided not to be a Democrat anymore.
It didn't happen until this year, though.
I feel a little lighter because of it.
It was, oddly enough, during the 2002 mid-term elections. I could have told you all the hotly contested seats in the house because I was hoping that some how the Democrats would be able to capture the house and delay or stall the, then, upcoming "war" in Iraq and Afghanistan. (I couldn't now, though.)
Daily, I was on the internet checking out The New York Times and CNN and even Fox News (to get a different perspective, I scoffed a lot in those days) to find out what was happening. I probably tracked the polls as closely as the DCCC, although I didn't have access to as many polls as they did.
I may have gone a little insane, but that was my business.
One thing I didn't do was get involved in the election in my district. That district is redder than the blood that pours onto the ground each day in a war. So, there was no reason. Besides, I'm not a people person.
In the end, the Democrats got crushed. I was crushed, but not surprised. I knew the runoff and spin and fear mongering after 9/11 would push the Republicans into office, but I was hoping that, for once, the public would vote with their hearts or head instead of their fear.
That was the day I decided not to be a Democrat anymore.
It didn't happen until this year, though.
I feel a little lighter because of it.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Monday, Monday, Monday. Been There.
First, I forgot to mention that I watched the entire debate between the Democratic candidates for governor here in California on Sunday. It made me happy that I'm not longer a Democrat.
* * *
Monday, I got in my car and drove to the shopping center with Rite Aid and Kragens to meet the bus to take us to Sacramento. Yes, the union supplied us with a bus. It's only fair since everyone who went had to take the day off from work.
There were probably about thirty people who got on the bus, here. We were all warned that we'd be making stops along the way to get workers from other towns.
We were supposed to stop and pick people up four times after leaving here. We only stopped twice. The second stop, at a place that I got a call to interview at the same day I was offered this job I now sit at, had seven people. The third had enough to fill all but two seats on the bus (minus the four that held the coolers with fruit and snacks and water). A wise man decided that our bus shouldn't make anymore stops and should just head on to Cowcity.
We arrived at our destination an hour and a half early. Joy.
I signed in, got a shirt and a cowbell, and did some wandering. Nothing extensive. I've been there before. If I knew where Jess worked, I might have tried to visit her, but I have no idea if she even works near the capital anymore. (The last I heard, though, she worked in the treasury department. One of the idiots at the debate is the treasurer of the state, for those who didn't know.)
After an hour of wandering, I made my way back to the grassy area and stood in the crowd. A lady stepped up to the mic and announced a bad made up of state workers and they started to sing folk and protest songs. The crowd started to get energized.
The energy grew quickly when it actually hit noon and the speakers started.
To me, being there was a lot like being at a sporting event. The energy of the crowd builds in cheers and other noised every once in a while releasing pressure with a united holler in glory or boo in agony.
I could feel the energy all around me and watched as it flowed through the other people, pumping newcomers into the same bizarre frenzy the others were in.
It didn't infect me, though. Sure, I waved my bell at the appropriate time and booed when the governor's name was mentioned, but I didn't feel it like the others did.
I knew going into the rally that it was all a PR stunt, but I was hoping for something real. All I heard were sound bites carefully crafted to be played on the news and written into newspaper stories. There was nothing of substance presented. And there was very little news coverage.
The union estimates 5000 people showed up. The Sac Bee estimates 2000. Whatever the number was, the question on my mind is: Was it enough that the governor and his bargaining group take threats of a strike seriously enough to not cut pay, force furlough days, and increase our co-pay rate?
I don't think it was.
PS Governor Arnie was in SF raising money that day. Is anyone surprised he wasn't actually doing the job he was elected to do?
* * *
Monday, I got in my car and drove to the shopping center with Rite Aid and Kragens to meet the bus to take us to Sacramento. Yes, the union supplied us with a bus. It's only fair since everyone who went had to take the day off from work.
There were probably about thirty people who got on the bus, here. We were all warned that we'd be making stops along the way to get workers from other towns.
We were supposed to stop and pick people up four times after leaving here. We only stopped twice. The second stop, at a place that I got a call to interview at the same day I was offered this job I now sit at, had seven people. The third had enough to fill all but two seats on the bus (minus the four that held the coolers with fruit and snacks and water). A wise man decided that our bus shouldn't make anymore stops and should just head on to Cowcity.
We arrived at our destination an hour and a half early. Joy.
I signed in, got a shirt and a cowbell, and did some wandering. Nothing extensive. I've been there before. If I knew where Jess worked, I might have tried to visit her, but I have no idea if she even works near the capital anymore. (The last I heard, though, she worked in the treasury department. One of the idiots at the debate is the treasurer of the state, for those who didn't know.)
After an hour of wandering, I made my way back to the grassy area and stood in the crowd. A lady stepped up to the mic and announced a bad made up of state workers and they started to sing folk and protest songs. The crowd started to get energized.
The energy grew quickly when it actually hit noon and the speakers started.
To me, being there was a lot like being at a sporting event. The energy of the crowd builds in cheers and other noised every once in a while releasing pressure with a united holler in glory or boo in agony.
I could feel the energy all around me and watched as it flowed through the other people, pumping newcomers into the same bizarre frenzy the others were in.
It didn't infect me, though. Sure, I waved my bell at the appropriate time and booed when the governor's name was mentioned, but I didn't feel it like the others did.
I knew going into the rally that it was all a PR stunt, but I was hoping for something real. All I heard were sound bites carefully crafted to be played on the news and written into newspaper stories. There was nothing of substance presented. And there was very little news coverage.
The union estimates 5000 people showed up. The Sac Bee estimates 2000. Whatever the number was, the question on my mind is: Was it enough that the governor and his bargaining group take threats of a strike seriously enough to not cut pay, force furlough days, and increase our co-pay rate?
I don't think it was.
PS Governor Arnie was in SF raising money that day. Is anyone surprised he wasn't actually doing the job he was elected to do?
I Was Right.
Last week, I posted that I thought Cassidy "Beaver" Casablancas was the person who crashed the bus. I can't believe that I was right. I'm usually way off. Although, he turned out to be a much bigger creep than I ever could have imagined.
I can't say that I was happy that I was right.
I liked Beaver.
Too bad his brother is stupid. I'd have like to see Dick Jr. take a dive.
I can't say that I was happy that I was right.
I liked Beaver.
Too bad his brother is stupid. I'd have like to see Dick Jr. take a dive.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Weekend
Friday, after work, I went to see the final show in the Josh Kornbluth's Red Diaper Trilogy, three one man shows. Here's a quick rundown:
Red Diaper Baby: Both of Josh's parents are communists. His dad wants him to lead the American communist revolution.
The Mathematics of Change: Josh goes to college as a math major and gets run over by calculus.
And Ben Franklin: Unplugged: Josh discovers he looks like Ben Franklin and is told he can make money at it.
My thoughts:
Red Diaper Baby: Really, really funny. Too bad it ends on a tone that's nothing like the tone of the rest of the piece; the theme is totally different, too. That sort of ruined it for me.
The Mathematics of Change: My favorite. It's funny. I suppose anything that has a human get mouse cancer is funny though. It ends on a different tone than it started with, but the theme is still there.
And Ben Franklin: Unplugged: Not as funny as the first. Not as meaningful, to me, as the second. I enjoyed it.
* * *
When I got back from the show, I pulled my mail from its cubby thing and found a check in it for me from my car insurance company. It seems that Proposition 103 has actually been put into effect. (Well, not into effect, exactly, but a lawsuit has been filed against some companies.) Now, I'm richer than I was a week ago. (You may applaud, if you wish.) Before Friday, I had never considered that a law passed in 1988 would earn me some extra cash today. I was only nine when the law passed. I didn't have my license for another ten years.
Thank you, weird universe, for punishing my insurance company.
* * *
Saturday, I did something, but I can't remember what.
* * *
Sunday, I made some kick ass ribs, drove around this city here, got some new comics, and watched the last disc of the first season of Bewitched.
* * *
Yesterday, I went to Cowcity to a union rally. It was interesting, but I don't think anything was accomplished. I've got to get going, so I may write more about this tomorrow.
Red Diaper Baby: Both of Josh's parents are communists. His dad wants him to lead the American communist revolution.
The Mathematics of Change: Josh goes to college as a math major and gets run over by calculus.
And Ben Franklin: Unplugged: Josh discovers he looks like Ben Franklin and is told he can make money at it.
My thoughts:
Red Diaper Baby: Really, really funny. Too bad it ends on a tone that's nothing like the tone of the rest of the piece; the theme is totally different, too. That sort of ruined it for me.
The Mathematics of Change: My favorite. It's funny. I suppose anything that has a human get mouse cancer is funny though. It ends on a different tone than it started with, but the theme is still there.
And Ben Franklin: Unplugged: Not as funny as the first. Not as meaningful, to me, as the second. I enjoyed it.
* * *
When I got back from the show, I pulled my mail from its cubby thing and found a check in it for me from my car insurance company. It seems that Proposition 103 has actually been put into effect. (Well, not into effect, exactly, but a lawsuit has been filed against some companies.) Now, I'm richer than I was a week ago. (You may applaud, if you wish.) Before Friday, I had never considered that a law passed in 1988 would earn me some extra cash today. I was only nine when the law passed. I didn't have my license for another ten years.
Thank you, weird universe, for punishing my insurance company.
* * *
Saturday, I did something, but I can't remember what.
* * *
Sunday, I made some kick ass ribs, drove around this city here, got some new comics, and watched the last disc of the first season of Bewitched.
* * *
Yesterday, I went to Cowcity to a union rally. It was interesting, but I don't think anything was accomplished. I've got to get going, so I may write more about this tomorrow.
Friday, May 05, 2006
GROW Answers
Since no one asked me not to, here they are.
Grow
Cube
Ball
Ladder
Egg
Hills
Pipe
Propeller
Tornado
Widget
Coaster
Plate
TV
Grow RPG
Village
Tree
Castle
Water
Tower
Rock
Chest
Stairs
Grow Cube
Person
Water
Plants
Pot
Tube
Fire
Plate
Bone
Spring or Ball
Ball or Spring
Grow Ornament
Present
Cloud
Heart
Light
Ribbon
Star
Grow
Cube
Ball
Ladder
Egg
Hills
Pipe
Propeller
Tornado
Widget
Coaster
Plate
TV
Grow RPG
Village
Tree
Castle
Water
Tower
Rock
Chest
Stairs
Grow Cube
Person
Water
Plants
Pot
Tube
Fire
Plate
Bone
Spring or Ball
Ball or Spring
Grow Ornament
Present
Cloud
Heart
Light
Ribbon
Star
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Has Anyone, Besides My Mother and Brother, Enjoyed the GROW Games?
I've been trying to write something here for the last hour. I don't just want to post a link to some other page (I know that I have done that before, but it's usually to something that I really like. See the GROW stuff.) or the text of a song copy and pasted because I don't think I can express how I'm feeling and what I'm thinking in my own words. I want to cover new ground or at least ground that's interesting to the few people I know who read this silly little site on a semi-regular basis. I try to do that every time I write.
Today I can't.
I don't know why.
Little thoughts flitted through my head that I thought would make a good post. I tried. I wrote a sentence and then nothing for most of them. One time, I wrote a whole five sentences, but I couldn't go on after that. So I hit backspace and decided to start over again each time.
I don't know how many times I restarted. Six? Seven? I can't be sure.
What did I even want to write about? I don't know anymore.
I have a horrible idea of how to get enough troops into the armed forces that Iraq may actually become secure and Osama bin'Ladan may be caught, without resorting to a draft, but the idea has probably been floated out there and was deemed to frightening.
I have an idea of how to slow the deterioration of Social Security without raising taxes (for now) or privatizing it, but it's an idea that's been out there for a while and it's an idea that the people in government will never use.
I have an idea to help improve California's school system without raising taxes (since raising taxes in this state is nearly impossible), but most of the people in power would never go for it because their scared of losing their jobs.
I don't think any of my ideas are new. I know that one of them was talked about on the news a couple of years ago as a theory, but that was all. I also know that, in the real world, what I think and any ideas I may have really don't matter.
Today I can't.
I don't know why.
Little thoughts flitted through my head that I thought would make a good post. I tried. I wrote a sentence and then nothing for most of them. One time, I wrote a whole five sentences, but I couldn't go on after that. So I hit backspace and decided to start over again each time.
I don't know how many times I restarted. Six? Seven? I can't be sure.
What did I even want to write about? I don't know anymore.
I have a horrible idea of how to get enough troops into the armed forces that Iraq may actually become secure and Osama bin'Ladan may be caught, without resorting to a draft, but the idea has probably been floated out there and was deemed to frightening.
I have an idea of how to slow the deterioration of Social Security without raising taxes (for now) or privatizing it, but it's an idea that's been out there for a while and it's an idea that the people in government will never use.
I have an idea to help improve California's school system without raising taxes (since raising taxes in this state is nearly impossible), but most of the people in power would never go for it because their scared of losing their jobs.
I don't think any of my ideas are new. I know that one of them was talked about on the news a couple of years ago as a theory, but that was all. I also know that, in the real world, what I think and any ideas I may have really don't matter.
From My MySpace Blog
Four
I got another bullshit bulliten:
WHY AGE DOESNT MATTER!!
[1.] Age is nothing but a number.
[2.] You fall in love wit a person for who they are not their age.
[3.] Age doesn't describe who you are.
[4.] Love isn't a certain age.
[5.] You can't really control who you fall in love with cause their age is the last thing on your mind [[cause when your in love you don't think]]
[6.] If you still think age is important, Romeo was 17 and Juliet was 14.
[1.] Age is more than a number: it's the way you feel. I may be 27 according to my bio on the front page of this MySpace thing, but I sure don't feel that age. I feel 65. That's just me; maybe you feel younger than your age. I don't really care.
[2.] First, it's "with" not "wit." Wit is either something to do with a person's intelligence/sense of humor or it's a wonderful play/movie, depending on how you see it. Second, we hope love has nothing to do with age (Of course there's NAMBLA, but we want to ignore that, right?), but love is rarely a problem between people. Lust is the problem and most people lust after certain ages. (Once again, there's NAMBLA.)
[3.] Yeah, it does, more and more. Once upon a time, there were three groups: babies, children and adults. Eventually, there came to be six groups: babies, toddlers, children, teenagers, adults, and seniors. Today there are too many to list, but I'll do my best: babies, toddlers, preschoolers, school-agers, pre-tweens, tweens (AKA middle schoolers), pre-driving teens, teens, college age, drinking age, post-college age, semi-adult, adult, early middle age, middle age, late middle age, pre-retirement age, retirement age, senior, and so-fucking-old-why-aren't-you-dead-yet age. It seems to me that the longer we go on, the more we try to label age groups with labels that seem more specific, but the less people there are who actually fit the description, but they try to fit it anyway.
[4.] "Love is timeless," right? Wrong. Love comes and goes. It growes and fades. Sometimes it lasts for a while; sometimes it's over in less than a day. Deal with it.
[5.] Okay, this one makes me think the whole thing was written by a member of NAMBLA or it was written by Brian Doyle. Creepy.
[6.] Romeo and Juliet are fiction! Up until the 1960s film, they were always played by people in their twenties or older. Maybe back in the 1600s Juliet was played by someone under the age of sixteen, but she was played by a guy (GASP!). PS if you think Romeo and Juliet is about love, you're fucking fooling yourself.
Damnit, wake up to the bullshit being thrown around this place. Don't send it as a bulletin just because you want it to be true. Don't send it around just because you're one of the younger people who feel "trapped" because you can't do all the stuff you see your "heroes" do on TV. Eventually, as long as you don't do something too stupid, you'll get there and discover that it's all pretty overrated, no matter what it looks like on the idiot box.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Book and Mars
So, I'm reading this book, House of Leaves, and it's just plain weird, but really good at the same time. I'm not that far into it (Only about 100 pages, more if you count the forward, I guess.), but the book is built like a textbook for school. I don't just mean it has lots of pages, but that's in the shape of one two. And the text, for the most part, goes from almost one side of the page to the other, which makes it hard to read, which I'm pretty sure was the point. The book is built to be difficult to read. There are pages and pages taken up by footnotes written by the guy "editing" the book mixed in with the regular text. Really weird. And I'm still not to the pages with Braille on them, or the pages that are in columns, or the pages that look like they were taken from an actual text book, or the pages with text on a slant and in the corner of the page, or the pages with music on them. Oh, and the word "house" is always printed in blue in my edition. (On the page where the copy write information is shown, it says that there's a full color edition that has all the struck words in red (except in chapter XXI, where they're in purple) and the Braille can be felt. How cool, but expensive, would that be to have.)
Anyway, it's a weird book. My brother got it for me for my birthday and I didn't start reading it until last Thursday, I think. When he gave it to me, he said that the first time he heard of it was when his old roommate was reading it and got freaked out. He got so freaked out that he went to my brother's room and asked if he could hang out there for a while because he didn't want to be alone.
Just thought I'd share that with all of you.
Watched Veronica Mars last night. (If you didn't, shame on you! You're one of the people who will get it cancelled before its time!) This morning, I thought:
Wouldn't it be horrible if Cassidy "Beaver" Casablancas was the person behind the bus crash? He was probably molested by Woody. It's not too much of a stretch to guess that he was the third person on the recording in Woody's e-mail, the voice that was erased. He was in the limo following the bus. He's smart enough to find out how to build a bomb, or get someone else to do it for him. (His brother did hang out with Lucky, and Kendal is a psycho of a step mom.)
The question, then, goes to his motive.
The other voice was erased off the message probably because that person was trying to convince the others not to out Woody. Why? Because that third person doesn't want to be dragged around by the cops and asked about being molested by Woody, which would happen to anyone who could be found from all the teams Woody coached over the years, as well as all the bat boys for the Sharks.
Cassidy seems to be pretty sensitive about anything that has to do with sex. I don't think he'd want to be forced to talk about it. I'm sure that he doesn't want his brother or father to find out, either; they already think he's girly enough.
If that seems like enough of a motive, then is Cassidy capable of killing?
I'm not sure. He pulled a pretty nasty trick on Dick when he hired the transvestite, but that certainly isn't the same as killing.
I'm not saying that Cassidy Casablancas is the killer (I don't want him to be. I like him.), but, to me, he's a strong possibility, even if it seems that the evidence is pointing to Woody Goodman.
If you didn't understand that, I'd recommend buying the DVDs when they come out this summer, or at least putting them into your NetFlix que when they get there. The show's damn good.
Anyway, it's a weird book. My brother got it for me for my birthday and I didn't start reading it until last Thursday, I think. When he gave it to me, he said that the first time he heard of it was when his old roommate was reading it and got freaked out. He got so freaked out that he went to my brother's room and asked if he could hang out there for a while because he didn't want to be alone.
Just thought I'd share that with all of you.
Watched Veronica Mars last night. (If you didn't, shame on you! You're one of the people who will get it cancelled before its time!) This morning, I thought:
Wouldn't it be horrible if Cassidy "Beaver" Casablancas was the person behind the bus crash? He was probably molested by Woody. It's not too much of a stretch to guess that he was the third person on the recording in Woody's e-mail, the voice that was erased. He was in the limo following the bus. He's smart enough to find out how to build a bomb, or get someone else to do it for him. (His brother did hang out with Lucky, and Kendal is a psycho of a step mom.)
The question, then, goes to his motive.
The other voice was erased off the message probably because that person was trying to convince the others not to out Woody. Why? Because that third person doesn't want to be dragged around by the cops and asked about being molested by Woody, which would happen to anyone who could be found from all the teams Woody coached over the years, as well as all the bat boys for the Sharks.
Cassidy seems to be pretty sensitive about anything that has to do with sex. I don't think he'd want to be forced to talk about it. I'm sure that he doesn't want his brother or father to find out, either; they already think he's girly enough.
If that seems like enough of a motive, then is Cassidy capable of killing?
I'm not sure. He pulled a pretty nasty trick on Dick when he hired the transvestite, but that certainly isn't the same as killing.
I'm not saying that Cassidy Casablancas is the killer (I don't want him to be. I like him.), but, to me, he's a strong possibility, even if it seems that the evidence is pointing to Woody Goodman.
If you didn't understand that, I'd recommend buying the DVDs when they come out this summer, or at least putting them into your NetFlix que when they get there. The show's damn good.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Cowtales?
I headed up to Cowtown this weekend to get the hell away from here. Here as in The Bay Area. I could have gone into The City or visited my brother in The East Bay, but it simply wouldn't have been enough.
It was a nice trip. There were cats to pet, parents to visit with, and a birthday celebration to go to. I really wasn't expecting the celebration, but it was there and so was I. Who was it for? Why it was for Green Apron Monkey. Also in attendance was The Girl (as Green Apron Monkey calls her in his blog, although Slackbastard once told me that she had a Jennifer Tilly-esque voice, so I always think of her as Jennifer), Johnny Logic, Heels, the person formerly known as JustLetMeRead (now simply known as her name), . . .
(I just watched the new Superman trailer, twice. Cool. Very cool.)
. . . and the Heels-Logic spawn (there were others who I still don't know, although I think I knew the brother of one of them), who was actually as well behaved (non-fussy?) as Heels says he is, which surprised me. Not because I think Heels is a liar, it's just that I have found, in my limited experience, most parents think their babies (and children) are well behaved, but they're wrong.
Last night, I finally watched the Battlestar Galactica miniseries. I was only going to watch the first half, but by the end of that one, I had to watch the second half. Can I simply say, "WOW!"? I remember reading some of the gossip about it as it was being made. Cast members said to skip it and stick with the original. I guess they just didn't get what they were making at the time. For those of you who like science fiction and haven't seen this stuff, watch it. For those of you who hated the original, watch this version. For those of you who like good military and political show, watch it. For those of you who just plain old like good TV, watch this show. It's simply outstanding.
The rest of the episodes are quite excellent, too, but it's always best to start at the very beginning, right?
It was a nice trip. There were cats to pet, parents to visit with, and a birthday celebration to go to. I really wasn't expecting the celebration, but it was there and so was I. Who was it for? Why it was for Green Apron Monkey. Also in attendance was The Girl (as Green Apron Monkey calls her in his blog, although Slackbastard once told me that she had a Jennifer Tilly-esque voice, so I always think of her as Jennifer), Johnny Logic, Heels, the person formerly known as JustLetMeRead (now simply known as her name), . . .
(I just watched the new Superman trailer, twice. Cool. Very cool.)
. . . and the Heels-Logic spawn (there were others who I still don't know, although I think I knew the brother of one of them), who was actually as well behaved (non-fussy?) as Heels says he is, which surprised me. Not because I think Heels is a liar, it's just that I have found, in my limited experience, most parents think their babies (and children) are well behaved, but they're wrong.
Last night, I finally watched the Battlestar Galactica miniseries. I was only going to watch the first half, but by the end of that one, I had to watch the second half. Can I simply say, "WOW!"? I remember reading some of the gossip about it as it was being made. Cast members said to skip it and stick with the original. I guess they just didn't get what they were making at the time. For those of you who like science fiction and haven't seen this stuff, watch it. For those of you who hated the original, watch this version. For those of you who like good military and political show, watch it. For those of you who just plain old like good TV, watch this show. It's simply outstanding.
The rest of the episodes are quite excellent, too, but it's always best to start at the very beginning, right?
Friday, April 28, 2006
GROW
Have I talked about this here before? I can't remember.
Anyway, all of you should go and play the game Grow. It is one of the most fun Flash games I've played on the 'net.
After that one, try its sequels:
Grow Ornament (Shorter and therefore easier than the others.)
Grow RPG (This one gave me the most damn trouble.)
and Grow Cube (The best looking one. And I think it's supposed to be gold, but it sure doesn't look that way.)
Unless someone asks me not to, I'll post all the answers here next Friday.
Anyway, all of you should go and play the game Grow. It is one of the most fun Flash games I've played on the 'net.
After that one, try its sequels:
Grow Ornament (Shorter and therefore easier than the others.)
Grow RPG (This one gave me the most damn trouble.)
and Grow Cube (The best looking one. And I think it's supposed to be gold, but it sure doesn't look that way.)
Unless someone asks me not to, I'll post all the answers here next Friday.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Nothin'
So, I just finished reading Dune. Again. That’s not to say that I just read it twice in a row (although that’s a tempting idea), but it’s my fourth or fifth time reading the book. I haven't read any of the sequels. Someone once told me not to, said they were horrible, so I never picked them up. This time, I'm sort of intrigued to pick them up. Not for a while though, I have two other books to get into first.
Recently, I’ve been reading Jane Espenson's blog quite a bit. I don't know if I'll ever actually use any of the advice she's been dolling out, but it's fun to read. One of my favorite things she's written there is "He AD LIBS a fiery speech that motivates a turn in the other guy's emotional state." Wouldn't that make script writing so much shorter.
To the astute observer, I've altered my links over to the right of the screen. I got rid of a few that I don't check as regularly as I once did, or I don't read at all anymore. I updated the link for one person. I added someone else. My life is rarely interesting, but on any given day there's a good chance that something interesting is going on in one of their lives. I thought quite a bit about removing one, but I know that when there was semi-regular posting I liked reading it and I keep hoping that the semi-regular posting will return.
It's pretty warm here today. 80 degrees, or so I'm told. I'm not supposed to wear shorts to work. I could do it, but it'd be frowned upon. I miss wearing shorts to work, which meant I'd be in shorts all day long, all week long, for months on end. Now, I can wear shorts before I get ready to go to work, after I get back from work, and on weekends. *sigh*
Oh well, back to pretending to work.
Recently, I’ve been reading Jane Espenson's blog quite a bit. I don't know if I'll ever actually use any of the advice she's been dolling out, but it's fun to read. One of my favorite things she's written there is "He AD LIBS a fiery speech that motivates a turn in the other guy's emotional state." Wouldn't that make script writing so much shorter.
To the astute observer, I've altered my links over to the right of the screen. I got rid of a few that I don't check as regularly as I once did, or I don't read at all anymore. I updated the link for one person. I added someone else. My life is rarely interesting, but on any given day there's a good chance that something interesting is going on in one of their lives. I thought quite a bit about removing one, but I know that when there was semi-regular posting I liked reading it and I keep hoping that the semi-regular posting will return.
It's pretty warm here today. 80 degrees, or so I'm told. I'm not supposed to wear shorts to work. I could do it, but it'd be frowned upon. I miss wearing shorts to work, which meant I'd be in shorts all day long, all week long, for months on end. Now, I can wear shorts before I get ready to go to work, after I get back from work, and on weekends. *sigh*
Oh well, back to pretending to work.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
"Frog"
Here I sit simply waiting for work to end.
I found out last Thursday that we’re getting another Office Technician in our office. Why? Because the state has allocated the funds to hire this person and if we don’t use it, we’ll lose it forever, even if our workload doubles!
So, the old new person is getting moved out to an area by the I&A officer. We were both offered that move last week, but the supervisor, the DEU rater, and the PJ (I think it was mostly the supervisor because I asked the rater a question and she hadn’t been told that the decision was made.) decided that it should be him.
Why is it him? Well, during my "interview" (for lack of a better word) on Thursday, I told my supervisor that if I was moved over there that I’d need it clearly stated what my tasks would be as related to the I&A officer. I told her that I’m sick of him treating me like I’m supposed to jump every time he says, "Frog." She said she’d have to discuss it with the PJ. Then I told her that I’d like my duties put down on paper and that the I&A officer be given a copy so that he knows exactly what my duties are and what I am able to do for him. I told her that I’d like a copy to so I could post it in case he tries to overstep his boundaries. Otherwise, I told her that I’d really like the job. I wouldn’t have to answer the phones. Most of my work would come from the DEU. It’d be like being groomed to become a rater, which I think would be great.
Oh, after my supervisor told me and the used-to-be-new guy that he’d be moved over there next Monday, that if he got tired of it, the two of us would trade jobs. I think she’s expecting me to forget that I want stuff in writing because we all know that the used-to-be-new guy really hates doing DEU work.
Who knows, though? Maybe he’s been fooling all of us for the past couple of months and he really does like the work.
I found out last Thursday that we’re getting another Office Technician in our office. Why? Because the state has allocated the funds to hire this person and if we don’t use it, we’ll lose it forever, even if our workload doubles!
So, the old new person is getting moved out to an area by the I&A officer. We were both offered that move last week, but the supervisor, the DEU rater, and the PJ (I think it was mostly the supervisor because I asked the rater a question and she hadn’t been told that the decision was made.) decided that it should be him.
Why is it him? Well, during my "interview" (for lack of a better word) on Thursday, I told my supervisor that if I was moved over there that I’d need it clearly stated what my tasks would be as related to the I&A officer. I told her that I’m sick of him treating me like I’m supposed to jump every time he says, "Frog." She said she’d have to discuss it with the PJ. Then I told her that I’d like my duties put down on paper and that the I&A officer be given a copy so that he knows exactly what my duties are and what I am able to do for him. I told her that I’d like a copy to so I could post it in case he tries to overstep his boundaries. Otherwise, I told her that I’d really like the job. I wouldn’t have to answer the phones. Most of my work would come from the DEU. It’d be like being groomed to become a rater, which I think would be great.
Oh, after my supervisor told me and the used-to-be-new guy that he’d be moved over there next Monday, that if he got tired of it, the two of us would trade jobs. I think she’s expecting me to forget that I want stuff in writing because we all know that the used-to-be-new guy really hates doing DEU work.
Who knows, though? Maybe he’s been fooling all of us for the past couple of months and he really does like the work.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Complaints
The odds are pretty even, and have been for a while, that two of my favorite TV shows will be canceled with the WB/UPN smoosh that'll be happening in the fall. Which makes me disappointed in the viewing habits of the people this world has. Do we really need three nights a week of a white "comedian" who shaves his head asking "Deal or no deal?" Is there really an audience for CSI and its two spin-offs? How about Law and Order and its two spin-offs? But there may not be room for two wonderful shows out there because people will watch any show with CSI or Law and Order in the title.
Then I read that J. J. Abrams will be in charge of the next Star Trek movie. (I know I'm a few days behind on the entertainment stuff, so what.) As I read more, I learned that it'll be based on Kirk at the Academy. Although I think Abrams will do a decent job with this movie, to me it seems like a slap in the face of people who have been watching Star Trek for a long time.
I do understand why the studio would do a young Kirk and Spock movie, it's all about recognizability. When most of the world thinks Star Trek, they still think of that excellent first season and the pretty good second season and the iffy third season from the original series because these episodes are the reason the show thrived after it was canceled. These are the people who successfully moved the television series into movies. These are the characters that people who have never seen a Star Trek episode or movie know the names of. The thought process probably is that if more people recognize the character name, the more likely they'll be willing to go see it.
As a fan, I don't want this movie. Continuity will be ignored. (Which was one of the main problems with the series Enterprise, which deserves a complaint all on its own.) Character will be ignored. Did you check out the link that goes to Ain't It Cool News? In the review of the script, it's made pretty clear that Kirk is a reckless kid at the Academy, I always thought that the show made it clear that at the Academy, Kirk was kind of dull, very much into his studies and after he got on a ship he became the risk taker to help to propel himself through the ranks. This is the Kirk that I'd like to see, however, this isn't the Kirk that, nearly, everyone else wants to see. They want to see Kirk acting rash. They want to hear Spock saying Kirk is acting in an illogical and irrational manner, but back Kirk up anyway. They want McCoy to be Kirks heart to Spock being Kirk's head, even though Kirk and Bones have just met.
Personally, I'd like to see a Trek movie that takes place after Nemesis (a totally lost opportunity) and shows the rebuilding of Cardassia. It could be a science fiction, political thriller, action movie. Start the movie at Deep Space 9, Doctor Bashir receives a letter from Garak filled with Obsidian Order codes that Garak taught the doctor during the Dominion War. Decoded, the letter reveals information about a faction of Cardassians breeding a hybrid Cardassian/Klingon/Jem'Hadar to strike and destroy the fragile new democracy that was once the Cardassian Union. Cut to the Enterprise orbiting Cardassia Prime, with other Federation star ships, shipping humanitarian aid people of the planet. (For the uber-fans, like me, if Gul Macet or Gul Evek were to meet with Picard, creaming of pants may occur at the movie theater. If Garak appears later in the movie, a creaming will occur.) After a time getting to know the situation, Commander Kira (in a Starfleet uniform, to show that Bajor has joined the Federation, things have changed since the end of DS9) contacts Picard with Garak's warning. After the relevant information has been passed along, but before the conversation is over, a couple of ships decloak (they looks like a cross between a Jem'Hadar attack ship and a Cardassian Hideki-class ship, small and maneuverable, good for hit-and-run attacks) and attack and destroy some of the supply ships before the Enterprise and the other escort ships, if there are other escort ships, finish them off. And then the chase, the mystery, and the attempt to keep a fragile relationship begins. In the end, in a perfect world, the "bad guys" should be Gul Madred, the Cardassian who tortured Picard in the excellent episode "Chain of Command, Part II" and a rouge clone of Weyoun, who snuck in from the Gamma Quadrant, two people with a real grudge against the Federation and who would want Cardassia to go back to being the militarily led government it once was.
And there you have my beginning and partial cast to what I'd like to see as the next Trek movie. It's ripe with opportunities for guest appearance from everyone who appeared on TNG, DS9, and Voyager. Of course, I'm really only out to give the fans something fun, something to really reward their years of watching the shows and movies, reading the books, and buying the other stuff that's been put out over the years, but I think that there'd be a way to make it fairly accessible to regular people.
In the end, though, Paramount will get Abrams to do the movie they want, basically a young Star Trek with young Kirk acting like an older Kirk and a young Spock and a young McCoy acting like their older counterparts. The worst part of this, I'll go to and see this movie and probably enjoy it for what it is, but it's not the Star Trek that I grew up with. It's not the Star Trek that was Great. It's not the Star Trek that existed until September of 1999, when DS9 went off the air. (For the record, I thought Voyager lost its way when they gave Kes the boot and made the Borg with boobs their #1 go to girl. Too bad, too, that show had potential, but that's a whole other complaint.)
After getting myself worked up over Star Trek, I read the interview of Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dan Palladino. For those of you who don't watch Gilmore Girls, those two leaving Gilmore Girls is reminiscent of Aaron Sorkin leaving The West Wing. Fortunately, and it's not much, it's unlikely that there will be a nearly two seasons worth of comparative crap (the bad episodes of The West Wing are still pretty good when compared to other shows out there, just not itself, although much of Sorkin’s last season didn't work well either) since next season will probably see the end of Gilmore Girls. That's not really a good thing, but it's nice to think if next season doesn't work there probably won't be another one that doesn't work after it.
The thing that really got me was reading some of the comments that people posted to the story. People called the two who were interviewed arrogant because they had a vision for the show, thought they had done an excellent job for the last six seasons, and thought that they deserved two years worth of job security. Damn. Saying that they were spinning the situation in their favor is probably accurate, but shouldn't be a surprise since all of us try to spin conversations about things that don't work out for us in our favor all the time. Then there are the commenters who jumped all over the rumors about what's going to happen in the last episode of the season as if it has happened. It's just a rumor, people, wait until you see the episode, then bitch, but as you're bitching remember that you weren't forced to watch, you could have changed the channel or left the room. I didn't like how people said they just should have gone for that one year contract again. What's wrong with them wanting a little job security? If the show ended at the end of next season, they'd still be working for the studio, probably doing spec for other shows or maybe creating a new show themselves. The worst thing, in my opinion, were the people complaining that Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dan Palladino wouldn't tell what they had planned for next season because they didn't want to put any pressure on people who are taking over next season. They did the right thing because if they told and it didn't happen next season, people would complain that they didn't get what they were told would happen. If they told and it did happen next season, but fell short, people would complain that the Palladino's never should have left and now the show is ruined. Or if they told and it did happen next season and turned out pretty good people would say that it was only because the new crew was working off of an idea from the Palladinos and they couldn't have succeeded with their own ideas. That looks like a no win situation for the show, the people making the show, and the Palladinos.
In the end, I think the Palladinos made the choice they had to make. Was it the right one? No one can tell until we see what happens to with the show next season and what happens to the Palladinos in the long run. In a few years, we'll know.
One more thing about Gilmore Girls, I like this season and think that the girls have been in character even though they're not quite acting like they have in previous seasons. I'm gonna go through the main complaints and tell why I'm right.
Let's start at the end of last/beginning of this Rory thing:
Rory is told that she can't do the thing she wants to do, the thing she's always wanted to do, the thing she's worked for all her life, by someone she respects. She flips out, tries to steal a boat and drops out of school. Her mom won't support this change, so she runs to her grandparents, who she knows can't say no, and Rory doesn't talk to her mom for a while, but starts to take over the DAR. Eventually, she realizes that she's not going anywhere and decides that she can do what she wants no matter what her boyfriend's asshole father says.
In character because Rory has never been told that she can't do anything. When she started Chilton, she was told that it would be hard, but she was never told that she couldn't do it and should quit, she was told to try harder. That was the first time she was ever told to just give up, she couldn't cut it. It shattered her (it would shatter lots of people) so she decided that maybe quitting was the best move. For only the second time in her life, her mother doesn't support a decision she's made, so she cuts her mother off, just like Lorelai cut her parents off for not supporting her decisions. Rory's just reacting like she's seen her mother react time and time again. She dropped out of school because if she assumed she was good at being a journalist and is told she isn't, what's the point of going to school, of doing anything that lead to what she was absolutely sure she'd do for the rest of her life. After she started doing good for the DAR and her grandmother tried to tell her she was doing it all wrong, but she knew she wasn't, Rory finally realized, on her own, that it doesn't matter what a jackass with an ulterior motive says, they don't care about the work, only tearing you down. She learned that it's only worth listening to the message if the messenger isn't working another angle.
(There's also the whole Logan issue, but I seem to be the only person out there who hates him, but still see the rational behind her going back with him. Ugh.)
The more recent episodes are all about Lorelai:
Right after telling Lorelai that they have to be totally honest with each other, Luke learns he has a daughter and doesn't tell Lorelai about her. Two months later, Lorelai finds out by meeting the daughter, but doesn't say "I'm your father's fiancée." How stupid is that.) She finds out that he's been keeping her a secret for two months and doesn't rip his head off, she lets it go. She continues to let it fester, not bringing up the daughter and when the daughter is brought up Lorelai doesn't ask when she's going to meet her. Luke and Lorelai go to Logan's family's house in Martha's Vineyard and we finally hear them say they love each other and they have a wonderful talk without I-haven't-met-your-daughter awkwardness they'd been having, but the awkwardness reappear when they get back into town. As of last week's episode, the awkwardness is still there and Lorelai hasn't officially met the daughter.
Sure, when we think Lorelai, we like to think feisty and in your face, but she's not really that way unless she's really angry, which is a place she hasn't gotten yet. In the past, she's let her mother walk all over her, inviting boring insurance men to dinner, praising Christopher (who's a jackass), rearranging things in Lorelai's house, Emily regifting a coat rack then asking for it back, and many other little things that Lorelai lets her mother get away with, Lorelai just lets these little things go so she doesn't upset the dangerous balance in her life. But in the moments of monumental Emily stupidity, most notably trying to force Luke out and Christopher in last season, Lorelai finally get's mad and says "No more!" She hasn't gotten to this point with Luke yet. She nearly lost Luke already over something her mother did, she's afraid that if she forces the issue over the daughter that, Luke'll leave. She's never had a good relationship, outside of the one with her daughter and her friendship with Sookie, that's lasted as long as the one she has with Luke. She scared of losing the one that she wants. She didn't want Christopher. She didn't want Max. She didn't want Jason "Digger" Stiles (even though he was really funny). She wants Luke. (We all knew that from their first moment together in the series premier.) Until her sadness over him not sharing his daughter with her turns into anger, she's not going to be meeting the daughter. I, along with everyone else out there, hope that she does something soon, but I think that what she has been doing is true to who she's been throughout the series so far.
And that's what I have to say today. To those of you who made it to the end. Why? Or I must be related to you. Or you must be bored. Thanks, though.
Then I read that J. J. Abrams will be in charge of the next Star Trek movie. (I know I'm a few days behind on the entertainment stuff, so what.) As I read more, I learned that it'll be based on Kirk at the Academy. Although I think Abrams will do a decent job with this movie, to me it seems like a slap in the face of people who have been watching Star Trek for a long time.
I do understand why the studio would do a young Kirk and Spock movie, it's all about recognizability. When most of the world thinks Star Trek, they still think of that excellent first season and the pretty good second season and the iffy third season from the original series because these episodes are the reason the show thrived after it was canceled. These are the people who successfully moved the television series into movies. These are the characters that people who have never seen a Star Trek episode or movie know the names of. The thought process probably is that if more people recognize the character name, the more likely they'll be willing to go see it.
As a fan, I don't want this movie. Continuity will be ignored. (Which was one of the main problems with the series Enterprise, which deserves a complaint all on its own.) Character will be ignored. Did you check out the link that goes to Ain't It Cool News? In the review of the script, it's made pretty clear that Kirk is a reckless kid at the Academy, I always thought that the show made it clear that at the Academy, Kirk was kind of dull, very much into his studies and after he got on a ship he became the risk taker to help to propel himself through the ranks. This is the Kirk that I'd like to see, however, this isn't the Kirk that, nearly, everyone else wants to see. They want to see Kirk acting rash. They want to hear Spock saying Kirk is acting in an illogical and irrational manner, but back Kirk up anyway. They want McCoy to be Kirks heart to Spock being Kirk's head, even though Kirk and Bones have just met.
Personally, I'd like to see a Trek movie that takes place after Nemesis (a totally lost opportunity) and shows the rebuilding of Cardassia. It could be a science fiction, political thriller, action movie. Start the movie at Deep Space 9, Doctor Bashir receives a letter from Garak filled with Obsidian Order codes that Garak taught the doctor during the Dominion War. Decoded, the letter reveals information about a faction of Cardassians breeding a hybrid Cardassian/Klingon/Jem'Hadar to strike and destroy the fragile new democracy that was once the Cardassian Union. Cut to the Enterprise orbiting Cardassia Prime, with other Federation star ships, shipping humanitarian aid people of the planet. (For the uber-fans, like me, if Gul Macet or Gul Evek were to meet with Picard, creaming of pants may occur at the movie theater. If Garak appears later in the movie, a creaming will occur.) After a time getting to know the situation, Commander Kira (in a Starfleet uniform, to show that Bajor has joined the Federation, things have changed since the end of DS9) contacts Picard with Garak's warning. After the relevant information has been passed along, but before the conversation is over, a couple of ships decloak (they looks like a cross between a Jem'Hadar attack ship and a Cardassian Hideki-class ship, small and maneuverable, good for hit-and-run attacks) and attack and destroy some of the supply ships before the Enterprise and the other escort ships, if there are other escort ships, finish them off. And then the chase, the mystery, and the attempt to keep a fragile relationship begins. In the end, in a perfect world, the "bad guys" should be Gul Madred, the Cardassian who tortured Picard in the excellent episode "Chain of Command, Part II" and a rouge clone of Weyoun, who snuck in from the Gamma Quadrant, two people with a real grudge against the Federation and who would want Cardassia to go back to being the militarily led government it once was.
And there you have my beginning and partial cast to what I'd like to see as the next Trek movie. It's ripe with opportunities for guest appearance from everyone who appeared on TNG, DS9, and Voyager. Of course, I'm really only out to give the fans something fun, something to really reward their years of watching the shows and movies, reading the books, and buying the other stuff that's been put out over the years, but I think that there'd be a way to make it fairly accessible to regular people.
In the end, though, Paramount will get Abrams to do the movie they want, basically a young Star Trek with young Kirk acting like an older Kirk and a young Spock and a young McCoy acting like their older counterparts. The worst part of this, I'll go to and see this movie and probably enjoy it for what it is, but it's not the Star Trek that I grew up with. It's not the Star Trek that was Great. It's not the Star Trek that existed until September of 1999, when DS9 went off the air. (For the record, I thought Voyager lost its way when they gave Kes the boot and made the Borg with boobs their #1 go to girl. Too bad, too, that show had potential, but that's a whole other complaint.)
After getting myself worked up over Star Trek, I read the interview of Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dan Palladino. For those of you who don't watch Gilmore Girls, those two leaving Gilmore Girls is reminiscent of Aaron Sorkin leaving The West Wing. Fortunately, and it's not much, it's unlikely that there will be a nearly two seasons worth of comparative crap (the bad episodes of The West Wing are still pretty good when compared to other shows out there, just not itself, although much of Sorkin’s last season didn't work well either) since next season will probably see the end of Gilmore Girls. That's not really a good thing, but it's nice to think if next season doesn't work there probably won't be another one that doesn't work after it.
The thing that really got me was reading some of the comments that people posted to the story. People called the two who were interviewed arrogant because they had a vision for the show, thought they had done an excellent job for the last six seasons, and thought that they deserved two years worth of job security. Damn. Saying that they were spinning the situation in their favor is probably accurate, but shouldn't be a surprise since all of us try to spin conversations about things that don't work out for us in our favor all the time. Then there are the commenters who jumped all over the rumors about what's going to happen in the last episode of the season as if it has happened. It's just a rumor, people, wait until you see the episode, then bitch, but as you're bitching remember that you weren't forced to watch, you could have changed the channel or left the room. I didn't like how people said they just should have gone for that one year contract again. What's wrong with them wanting a little job security? If the show ended at the end of next season, they'd still be working for the studio, probably doing spec for other shows or maybe creating a new show themselves. The worst thing, in my opinion, were the people complaining that Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dan Palladino wouldn't tell what they had planned for next season because they didn't want to put any pressure on people who are taking over next season. They did the right thing because if they told and it didn't happen next season, people would complain that they didn't get what they were told would happen. If they told and it did happen next season, but fell short, people would complain that the Palladino's never should have left and now the show is ruined. Or if they told and it did happen next season and turned out pretty good people would say that it was only because the new crew was working off of an idea from the Palladinos and they couldn't have succeeded with their own ideas. That looks like a no win situation for the show, the people making the show, and the Palladinos.
In the end, I think the Palladinos made the choice they had to make. Was it the right one? No one can tell until we see what happens to with the show next season and what happens to the Palladinos in the long run. In a few years, we'll know.
One more thing about Gilmore Girls, I like this season and think that the girls have been in character even though they're not quite acting like they have in previous seasons. I'm gonna go through the main complaints and tell why I'm right.
Let's start at the end of last/beginning of this Rory thing:
Rory is told that she can't do the thing she wants to do, the thing she's always wanted to do, the thing she's worked for all her life, by someone she respects. She flips out, tries to steal a boat and drops out of school. Her mom won't support this change, so she runs to her grandparents, who she knows can't say no, and Rory doesn't talk to her mom for a while, but starts to take over the DAR. Eventually, she realizes that she's not going anywhere and decides that she can do what she wants no matter what her boyfriend's asshole father says.
In character because Rory has never been told that she can't do anything. When she started Chilton, she was told that it would be hard, but she was never told that she couldn't do it and should quit, she was told to try harder. That was the first time she was ever told to just give up, she couldn't cut it. It shattered her (it would shatter lots of people) so she decided that maybe quitting was the best move. For only the second time in her life, her mother doesn't support a decision she's made, so she cuts her mother off, just like Lorelai cut her parents off for not supporting her decisions. Rory's just reacting like she's seen her mother react time and time again. She dropped out of school because if she assumed she was good at being a journalist and is told she isn't, what's the point of going to school, of doing anything that lead to what she was absolutely sure she'd do for the rest of her life. After she started doing good for the DAR and her grandmother tried to tell her she was doing it all wrong, but she knew she wasn't, Rory finally realized, on her own, that it doesn't matter what a jackass with an ulterior motive says, they don't care about the work, only tearing you down. She learned that it's only worth listening to the message if the messenger isn't working another angle.
(There's also the whole Logan issue, but I seem to be the only person out there who hates him, but still see the rational behind her going back with him. Ugh.)
The more recent episodes are all about Lorelai:
Right after telling Lorelai that they have to be totally honest with each other, Luke learns he has a daughter and doesn't tell Lorelai about her. Two months later, Lorelai finds out by meeting the daughter, but doesn't say "I'm your father's fiancée." How stupid is that.) She finds out that he's been keeping her a secret for two months and doesn't rip his head off, she lets it go. She continues to let it fester, not bringing up the daughter and when the daughter is brought up Lorelai doesn't ask when she's going to meet her. Luke and Lorelai go to Logan's family's house in Martha's Vineyard and we finally hear them say they love each other and they have a wonderful talk without I-haven't-met-your-daughter awkwardness they'd been having, but the awkwardness reappear when they get back into town. As of last week's episode, the awkwardness is still there and Lorelai hasn't officially met the daughter.
Sure, when we think Lorelai, we like to think feisty and in your face, but she's not really that way unless she's really angry, which is a place she hasn't gotten yet. In the past, she's let her mother walk all over her, inviting boring insurance men to dinner, praising Christopher (who's a jackass), rearranging things in Lorelai's house, Emily regifting a coat rack then asking for it back, and many other little things that Lorelai lets her mother get away with, Lorelai just lets these little things go so she doesn't upset the dangerous balance in her life. But in the moments of monumental Emily stupidity, most notably trying to force Luke out and Christopher in last season, Lorelai finally get's mad and says "No more!" She hasn't gotten to this point with Luke yet. She nearly lost Luke already over something her mother did, she's afraid that if she forces the issue over the daughter that, Luke'll leave. She's never had a good relationship, outside of the one with her daughter and her friendship with Sookie, that's lasted as long as the one she has with Luke. She scared of losing the one that she wants. She didn't want Christopher. She didn't want Max. She didn't want Jason "Digger" Stiles (even though he was really funny). She wants Luke. (We all knew that from their first moment together in the series premier.) Until her sadness over him not sharing his daughter with her turns into anger, she's not going to be meeting the daughter. I, along with everyone else out there, hope that she does something soon, but I think that what she has been doing is true to who she's been throughout the series so far.
And that's what I have to say today. To those of you who made it to the end. Why? Or I must be related to you. Or you must be bored. Thanks, though.
Monday, April 24, 2006
"Oy, me estomago! No me gusta Captain Crunch con Spamberries."
I don't feel so well.
I felt, more or less, fine walking to work this morning. Just tired. Very, very tired. But not sick. Now I feel sick. I've felt this way since about 8:30 this morning.
I keep hoping it's gas. Maybe I'll let out a series of little burps or farts or the ever popular combination and the ache will go away. Alas, the few little burps I've release have done nothing for my tummy and if I've farted since I got to work I can't remember doing it.
Here's to funky stomachs, everyone. Just another thing to remind us that we’re not the superhumans we pretend to be.
I felt, more or less, fine walking to work this morning. Just tired. Very, very tired. But not sick. Now I feel sick. I've felt this way since about 8:30 this morning.
I keep hoping it's gas. Maybe I'll let out a series of little burps or farts or the ever popular combination and the ache will go away. Alas, the few little burps I've release have done nothing for my tummy and if I've farted since I got to work I can't remember doing it.
Here's to funky stomachs, everyone. Just another thing to remind us that we’re not the superhumans we pretend to be.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Bored
When people at work ask, "Are you bored?" I answer them honestly.
"Yes," I say, "I am bored, but I still have plenty of work to do at my desk."
Of course, that doesn't mean that I actually go to my desk and do my work.
"Yes," I say, "I am bored, but I still have plenty of work to do at my desk."
Of course, that doesn't mean that I actually go to my desk and do my work.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
A Question
From Dune:
Oddly enough, that song was released the same year my edition of the paperback was.
"A time to get and a time to lose," Jessica thought, quoting to herself from the O.C. Bible. "A time to keep and a time to cast away; a time for love and a time to hate; a time of war and a time of peace."Does anyone else hear The Byrds when they read that?
Oddly enough, that song was released the same year my edition of the paperback was.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Humor
At Easter, The Great Uncle said that he thought I should look for the humor in my work.
I’ve been looking for the humor in my work since I got out of college.
I’m a bit burned out on looking for the humor in my work.
Just thought you all should know.
I’ve been looking for the humor in my work since I got out of college.
I’m a bit burned out on looking for the humor in my work.
Just thought you all should know.
Friday, April 14, 2006
From My MySpace Blog
Three
Can I turn off the Bulletins thing here on MySpace? I keep getting crap ones. Things that don't make sense or that I had e-mailed to me four years ago or that I saw as a meme on a blog in the past couple of years. Unless it's actually about some event happening in the future, I've probably already seen it.
(Oh, and I'm not picking on any particular bulleteer. (I made that word up, use it as you please.) I just thought I should say that.)
Today I got one entitled "the hardest thing," which reads:
THE
HARDEST
THING
YOU
WILL
EVER
HAVE
TO
DO
IS
WATCH
THE
ONE
YOU
LOVE,
LOVE
SOMEONE
ELSE.
IF YOU BELIEVE THIS IS
TRUE
RE-POST THIS
I'm here to tell you people, that's not the hardest thing. I've done it. I got over it.
I think something harder would be for me to be tied down and have fire ants slowly eat my honey covered penis while I'm forced to watch (you know, like that thing Alex is put in in A Clockwork Orange).
If you want harder relationship wise thing how about confessing your love to a person, who you thought was your friend, and being shot down, publicly and loudly. Where things like, "Why would I ever consider you, your disgusting." or "I'd rather have my temperature taken up the ass than ever touch you." are said. I'd say that's harder.
There seems to be a lot of relationship "truths" passed around on MySpace, and I guarantee you that they aren't. Check this post at Just Let Me Read. She's female, so I think that makes her a credible source.
I guess it's not just relationship "truths" passed around, but lots of generalizations. People, if we were all those generalizations, we'd suck. We'd be like the Purple Pandas before Lady Elaine showed them how much better it is to be an individual.
PS A good individual doesn't repost something just because the message says to. A good individual should consider whether other good individuals will find the message funny, enlightening, or facinating before reposting. A good individual will think for his or herself and won't let a line at the bottom of the message do his or her thinking for him or her.
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