Watching Movies with Mom

Mom, at the end of Anne of Green Gables: "Oh thank God, I've had to pee since she was like 16!"

Cooking for Christmas

The best thing about Christmas is eating. My mom and I got started earlier this week.

I put Junior Mints in as a middle layer in brownies to make them mint brownies.

Most importantly, our traditional peanutbutter blossum batch, which is more labor intensive than the brownies-from-the-box, but we needed those brownies to have something to eat while we made the cookies.

Once everything is mixed, you roll the dough into balls and then roll the ball in sugar.

Here, Mom is unwrapping Hershey kisses, which will top the cookies.

One for the cookies, one to eat.

You have to put the kisses on as soon as the cookies come out of the oven so you can press them in and make a little crater for them to sit in.

Documenting a family holiday cooking tradition, courtesy of 52 Projects and others.

Boston Globe's Most-Emailed

Notice a trend?

There must be other things going on in the world besides gays. Let's hear more about that deer.

"Cigarette?" "Yes, I know."

Keeping on my course of watching classics, I Netflixed the short-lived 1982 TV series Police Squad!, starring, of course, Leslie Nielson. Police Squad! was done by the people who made Airplane!, and it was later turned into the Naked Gun movies.

The humor is the same in all these endeavors, and it's probably my favorite kind. It's pun-tastic humor. "Let's go outside and talk in the Japanese garden," one of the characters whispers to Leslie Nielson. Then they step out onto a patio where a group of Asian people are standing in oversize flower-pots.

Genius.

And then there's the scene where the bad guy ties the ransom note to a window and throws the window into a pile of rocks.

Side-splitting.

The show probably has the most jokes-per-minute of anything ever created, even if it's little throwaway gags like the clock in the background having the wrong numbers. Leslie Nielson deadpans his way through all of this, and he somehow makes it seem both high-brow and low-brow. "Oh jeez, I can't believe they went for that joke," you think, but you wouldn't have gotten the joke unless you were really paying attention fifteen seconds earlier.

It's Okay, Mom, At Least You're Not Sixty

When my mom turned 35, she was upset. She no longer felt young. Her children were ten and seven years old; old enough to be independent to a certain extent. Her future felt uncertain.

Meanwhile, my dad was still a teenager at heart. At ten, I was reminding him that a present needed to be purchased for Mom and a cake ordered. I suggested that he find a better present than the one she'd received the year before. He'd brought a big box into the room and she's squealed, "Is it a puppy?" like she was a teenager.

It wasn't a puppy. It was a TV. And it ended up on his side of bed, where he has enjoyed it far more than she ever would.

He picked up the cake for her 35th birthday, but didn't look at it until he took it out of its box later that night, after dinner. We all wore birthday hats and she seemed to be doing okay until the cake was unveiled.

"Happy 60th, Mom!" it read. She began to cry, thinking it was a mean joke my father was pulling on her. Turns out, he'd just picked up the wrong cake. Her tears dried as she imagined some happy 60-year-old lady whose cake wished her a Happy 35th.

The tears threatened to reappear when my father realized he'd forgotten to buy candles. The only candles we had were the big dinner-table kind and the candles we'd saved from PJ's 7th birthday back in June.

Ninja Turtle Candles.

Not only was it addressed to the wrong person and topped with children's candles, but my dad thought it was an ice cream cake, and so he'd put it in the freezer. We had to wait for it to thaw before we could eat it.

It could have gone either way, but we all ended up laughing wildly while Mom blew out the half-melted Ninja Turtle candles on her 60th Birthday cake, and it's become one of those family stories we tell to each other or joke about: "Hey, at least we don't have to use the Ninja Turtle Candles," which, by the way, we still have.

Barack's big announcement

A TV commercial from last night:



I love this man. If I'd seen this live I would've peed my pants. Here's hoping the real thing comes soon.

Back in Business

After some turmoil kindly resolved by the Google people, LCiN has made it onto the new version of Blogger. You'll notice we can now tag our posts with topics, like the rest of the world. And our archives are spiffy.

Unfortunately, the new look we unveiled a couple weeks back didn't jive with the standards of the new system. It was a bit of bad timing, so let's all pretend it never happened. Maybe when new blog templates become available, or when we figure out how to code in XML, we'll give it another shot.

Until then, here's a classic-looking LCiN.

Now we just have to write something.

A token of the past

Let me preface by saying that when it comes to Boston, I love new things. Every new building is a little exciting. I'm all for the new parking meters on Newbury Street that take credit cards, as well as the solar-powered trash-compacting garbage cans. I can't wait till a huge new skyscraper alters the skyline.

But I just can't get behind the new Charlie tickets that have replaced the good old-fashioned T tokens. The last token was sold today, to much hurrah, but it doesn't feel to me like a step forward. The new Charlie cards are confusing to buy and dirty to dispose of (notice all the crumpled cards littering the T-station floors now). I don't like the new turnstyles, either. They're not even turnstyles, they're quick-sliding doors that always seem to snap shut on my leg or the edge of my jacket.

The new Green Line T cars are great, and the new stations (Charles Street, etc.) are beautiful. Both were needed. But I don't see what was wrong with the tokens, and I miss them already.

Live-action Stop-motion

This is the most creative thing I've seen in a while.

Note to holiday shoppers

It wasn't a "deal" or a "bargain" if you had no interest in buying it until you heard it was on sale.

Some Like It Classic

After a string of duds on my Netflix queue, I decided my tendency to rent only new releases needed to be spiced up with something more classic. On went The Godfather and The Grapes of Wrath; I ditched You, Me & Dupree in favor of Some Like It Hot.

That last one was my favorite of my venture into classics thus far, for a few reasons. Let's start with Marilyn. Va-va-va-voom! I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a man she couldn't make fall in love with her, regardless of the dude's tastes or even orientation. Also, something skeletal modern actresses should take note of, was the fact that Marilyn was none too skinny. The body of our most famous sex-symbol is much closer to that of plus-size model Emme than to anyone you'll find in a Calvin Klein ad.

Jack Lemmon was hilarious. Men in drag never gets old. This movie must've been just shy of pornography when it was released in 1959 -- men dressed as women kissing women! Men marrying men for money! Toss in what may be the best closing line ever, and it adds up to a fun movie. Sorry Owen Wilson, but this was time better spent.

The Big 5-0-0-0

Congratulations! You're our 5,000th visitor! Or, if you're not, you're pretty close.

New blogs are like new sitcoms. They premiere with lots of fanfare and hubbub, but unfortunately, most of both get canceled after the first week. Thanks to you, our audience, we've been able to keep LCiN going for almost a year.

Thanks for the support. We hope you continue to enjoy our musings.

Hobbit-off?!

WELLINGTON, New Zealand - Peter Jackson says he will not be directing a movie based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s novel “The Hobbit” or a planned prequel to “The Lord of the Rings.”

In a letter posted on Theonering.com., Jackson and partner Fran Walsh said an executive from New Line Cinema had called to tell them the studio was moving ahead with “The Hobbit” without him.

“Last week, Mark Ordesky called Ken (Kamins, Jackson’s manager) and told him that New Line would no longer be requiring our services on ‘The Hobbit’ and the LOTR ‘prequel,”’ the 45-year-old New Zealand director wrote.

Let's all say it together: Big mistake, New Line. Biiiiig mistake. Pay P.J. what he's worth. He made some of the coolest movies ever and you $3billion already. Are you stupid?

I hate this clash of art and commerce. Businesspeople think they can hire anyone they want to shoot a movie and expect to get the same result.

I'm sure there are countless examples, but Superman II from 1980 is an especially good indicator of how these things work out. Richard Donner, who when he directed Superman invented the superhero movie, was deemed "disagreeable" halfway through the shoot of Superman II. The producers canned him and reshot half of what he'd shot with a hack director who agreed to add in all the cheap full-of-holes b.s. the producers wanted. Now, 26 years later, after an Internet petition by the fans who wanted to see Donner's original version, we get Superman II: The Richard Donner Cut.

How much do you want to bet that in 20 years Peter Jackson will end up re-making whatever atrocity New Line comes up without him?

Fast Food Nation

I thought it was weird that they decided to make the movie a fictionalized version of the book, which is jampacked with information about all different aspects of the fast food industry. Wouldn't it have been better to make a documentary? Then again, people connect to characters and their stories. (Of course, the real reason a documentary wasn't made was because all the studios have relationships with fast food companies and it would affect sponsorship, blah blah blah.)

Good adaptation or not, the information is worth knowing. Here's a good Q&A with the author of the book, which started out as an article for Rolling Stone, but got so much attention that he expanded his investigation and research. He recently published Chew On This, sort of a different version of Fast Food Nation, meant for a younger audience, which made a splash.

I'm starting to believe that almost every decision you make is political. Which movie to go see and whether to see it on opening weekend, where to eat or buy food. I wanted to go see Fast Food Nation on opening weekend just to support it because whether it's good or not, more movies like it should be made. Too many of us are unaware of the mechanisms behind so many simple things in our lives.

I believe that ignorance is bliss, but I'd rather be appalled and working on corrections to the problems.

Lab Meat

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to go vegetarian. So far so good, except for a trip to McDonald's that is part of our driving-to-New-Jersey tradition. I am still eating fish, which gives me options at restaurants. I won't be eating another double burger on this week's Thanksgiving road trip to New Jersey, though. I've hardened my resolve.

This decision is based on moral issues. I know that animals who are raised to be food are treated horrifically and I don't want to be part of the problem.

It's also a health decision because not only are the conditions bad for animals, but they are frequently bad for the consumer too. The worse condition the animals are in, the less healthy it is to eat them.

If I could be guaranteed that the meat came from an animal that was killed humanely, I would feel a lot better about eating it. But humane practices aren't the standard.

I might not have to worry about animals at all anymore because according to this article, it will soon be possible to grow meat in labs using bioengineering. No live animals would ever be involved. That sounds gross and sci-fi, but it might be a grocery store option in ten years. The article points out that lab meat would not only prevent the slaughter of animals, but it would help the environment: in the United States, livestock produce 1.4 billion tons of waste each year.

Sign Here

I have a signed copy of the memoir Half the House. Author Richard Hoffman was in residence at Emerson while I was there getting my BA in Writing, Literature and Publishing. We read his book for my freshmen writing symposium, which focused on the family and fatherhood.

Until this morning, that was the only book I owned that contained the signature of its creator. During some chit chat with CIO's managing editor, I learned that he penned two mystery thrillers. He offered me a copy, I accepted and he signed it. Now I can add Zaddick to my collection of two.

One of the other editorial assistants here has a vast collection of books that contain personal notes and signatures of their authors. Mostly, it's Stephen King titles. I wouldn't mind having a book signed by King since he's so famous, but I would love to have Francesca Lia Block sign something for me. Unfortunately, all of her book signings take place on the west coast.

Far more valuable to me are the books that have been given as gifts and contain personal notes in the first few pages. I have at least three such books from Ben, and probably another three from various other people. Sometimes I pull them off the shelf just to read the notes.

Signatures are bizarre things to ask celebrities for. A picture is more fun and more unique. There are people I would love to be able to sit down and interview, but what good is a signature? I've seen only a handful of celebrities in my life. I never bothered them, but if I had, I wouldn't have wanted an autograph. And yet it made my morning to receive this signed book.

We saw Mohammad Ali in the airport when my family was on our way to San Diego. My father brought us over to him and said to my brother and me, "I want you to meet the greatest boxer that ever lived." Ali shook our hands. He didn't speak to anyone because of his condition. When my then-six year old brother asked, "Could you beat Rocky?" Ali just smiled, and mimed boxing with my brother, tapping him lightly on the cheek.

That memory is better than some ink on a page of a book that will be shelved and forgotten.

Kid Movies

I watched Monster House (that animated movie) last night, not expecting anything, and was pleasantly surprised from start to finish. The only time I ever think it would be nice to have kids is when I'm watching a movie I think they'd like. They should have a service called Kidflix, where a kid shows up at your door with a movie you can watch together, then when it's over you mail them both back.

The Only Air Freshener You'll Ever Need

Walk into any supermarket and you'll find an entire aisle devoted to air fresheners. Sprays, gels, flowery baskets, things that plug into the wall. They come in every variety of scent, from mountain pine to summer blast, yet none of them comes close to actually smelling "fresh."

The only air freshener you'll ever need is one you probably already have. I speak of dryer sheets.

Car a bit stinky? Pass on the dangling Christmas trees and, instead, toss a few dryer sheets under the seat.

Trash can remind you of rotting meat? Drop a dryer sheet in the can before putting in the bag.

Add them to closets and drawers, keep them under couch cushions, and if you want to smell like clean laundry all day, cut off a small square of dryer sheet and pop it right in your shirt pocket.

Friendlier than cologne, less obstrusive than perfume, and a whole lot cheaper than those Glade Plug-It-Ins (you can easily get 100+ sheets for a couple bucks), dryer sheets are all you need to take care of every odor problem.

Chafee for Governor!

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my quandary over voting for a good Republican senator at a time when a Democratic Senate was so important. In the end, I voted for Lincoln Chafee, the Republican. I couldn't personally vote to kick a good man out, even though I hoped he didn't win. I felt good about my vote then, and I feel extra good about it after reading this:

A key Senate Republican has joined Democrats in opposing one of Bush's initiatives for the lame-duck Congress: John Bolton's nomination as U.S. ambassador to the United Nations.

...Republican Sen. Lincoln Chafee, who was defeated in this week's election, said he would block Bolton's nomination.

Chafee, a member of the Foreign Relations Committee, told reporters that he did not believe Bolton's nomination would move forward without his support.

"The American people have spoken out against the president's agenda on a number of fronts, and presumably one of those is on foreign policy," the Rhode Island moderate told The Associated Press. "And at this late stage in my term, I'm not going to endorse something the American people have spoke out against."

House and Senate, baby!

What a beautiful day.

I don't know what the best part has been. Maybe it was the sheer joy of winning. Or maybe it was watching Rick "Same-sex marriage is as absurd as marrying your dog" Santorum go down in flames, and George "Macaca / We're gonna knock their soft teeth down their whining throats" Allen's defeat turning the Senate blue. Maybe it was the montage of worldwide newspaper headlines on the news, happily drawing a distinction between the American people and the obnoxious president we rebuked. Maybe it was seeing Bush slink out to fire Rumsfeld, who on Monday had the president's full support -- and realizing that however tyrannical I like to complain a president is, thanks to some clever thinking 200+ years ago, he's only ever one election day away from being a lame duck.

Instructions for Enjoying a Friend's Wedding

1. Dress up. Pretend like your going to the prom, then take it down a few notches.
2. Take lots of pictures.
3. Don't get sentimental about love.
4. Don't think this marriage means you should consider marriage.
5. Eat all you want.
6. Don't have more than one drink an hour.
7. Dance with your friends. You don't see each other often enough anymore.
8. Don't spend time reminiscing about old memories. A wedding is a time to make new ones.
9. Give everyone big hugs hello and goodbye.
10. Tell the bride she's beautiful, that you enjoyed yourself and that everything turned out perfectly.
11. Tell the groom it was worth all the time and money. Tell him his brother didn't screw it up too badly. Assure him no one will remember that part of the evening.
12. Don't miss the shuttle back to the hotel.
13. Even though you brought your bathing suit, don't go swimming in the 24-hour heated hotel pool. Go to sleep instead.

"Instructions" is one of many writing prompts from Sunday Scribblings.

Note To Co-Workers

Just because I sit near the printer doesn't mean I have any idea what's wrong with it when it breaks. Stop asking me for help.

Deval

It's about time I heard a political speech that brought tears to my eyes. Thank you Deval!

"You are the young man from Boston who took the midnight bus from college in New York to be at the polls to vote this morning, then hopped on the next bus back to New York so that he could be back in time for his internship. You are the mother who thanked me this morning for running a campaign her kids could watch and be proud of. You are the retiree who told me the other day that this campaign changed her life. You are the homeless man who figured out how to register and vote without an address, because he did not want to be left out again. You are the venture capitalist in the office tower who organized other VCs to help, and the cleaning crew who stopped us in the lobby on the way in to say, 'I'm with you, too.' You are the new citizen who says with such pride that you cast your first vote for Tim and me. You are the tired and frustrated public official, who just got your second wind. You are every Black man, woman and child in Massachusetts and America, and every other striver of every race and kind, who is reminded tonight that the American Dream is for you, too."

Fur Facts

It's been un-PC to wear fur for years. I knew that animals were raised in deplorable conditions just to be killed so their skins could be made into high-fashion.

What I didn't know is that animals are almost always still alive when they are skinned. I watched a video of a wolf panting and blinking as its fur was pulled back, the way you'd peel off a swimsuit. Their bodies are thrown onto a pile of other bodies, where they soon die. Even worse, before the skinning even began, the people were beating and teasing the wolf.

Most people are aware that the fur trade isn't pretty work. Some might think that once the fur is gone, the rest of the animal is used for something (it's not; for example dairy, beef and leather come from three separate sets of livestock). Do most people think the animals are killed before they are skinned? Or even afterwards? It would be humane to at least kill them afterwards instead of leaving them to suffer before they die, right?

I wonder how many people would consider wearing fur, or even buying clothes from a company that uses fur, if they knew what I just learned.

Yeah Doogie!!

Neil Patrick Harris, who starred in "Doogie Howser, M.D.," and who currently stars in the CBS comedy "How I Met Your Mother," is gay and wants to quell any rumors to the contrary.

"(I) am quite proud to say that I am a very content gay man living my life to the fullest," Harris tells People magazine's Web site.

Vote Democrat

LONDON - The United States is seen as a threat to world peace by its closest neighbors and allies, with Britons saying President Bush poses a greater danger than North Korea’s Kim Jong Il, a survey found Friday.

Lovely.

Letters to God

Hundreds of unopened letters to God washed up on the Jersey shore yesterday, some dating all the way back to the 70's.

A Starbucks Definition

Today, the other editorial assistants and I were asking ourselves, 'What is the difference between a latte and a cappucino?' I assumed they'd know because they are coffee drinkers, but no one could tell me.

"It's something about the amount of milk," one said.

"I thought it was the foam," said the other. "Look it up on Google."

I looked it up on Wikipedia and found an incredibly in-depth, precise explanation of latte v. cappucino, right down to the amount of foam (one centimeter).

Also enjoyable was the add-on definition of ghetto latte: a latte you make yourself by ordering a cheaper drink and using the free milk and condiments to make an approximate copy of the pricer over-the-counter version. Also known as a bootleg latte.

I might have known about the latte bootlegging problem if I was a coffee drinker, as it was important enough for the Chicago Tribune to cover.

CNN's Stock is Falling

Less and less does CNN cover anything relevant on their homepage aside from their breaking news section on the top left.

Today, in their list of links to stories was one that read "Carmen Electra Shows Troupe How to Lap Dance." Fine.

When you view the video, you learn that the troupe in question is a group of elderly ladies (and one man) who typically do tap dances in coordinating outfits. They have 60 shows a year.

I don't know whose idea it was to show this group Carmen Electra's Lap Dance DVD, but the video shows them following along with her "exercise" instructions and seemingly enjoying it. All fine.

The host of this segment, however, asked one of the ladies stupid questions in a miserable attempt at humor. "Would you perform at bar mitzvahs?" She gracefully answers the condescending questions by saying they haven't so far, but would be open to new options.

"What about bris?" the reporter asks, looking very proud of himself.

I just wanted to yell, "Oh shut the hell up!" These women are doing something that they enjoy, something that is good for them and CNN comes along making a mockery of it. F them.

A small request

If Superman were real I'd ask him to fly around the Earth so fast it would turn back time, and then when he got to May he'd stop and slap me and ask why the heck I was thinking about moving to Providence.

Radio notes

One thing I was looking forward to about having a car was having a place to listen to the radio. I was always behind on new songs and music trends because all I listened to was my iPod. But when listening to radio, I've found, you have to deal with the hosts.

The djs on the stations that play the music I like are all pigs. I'm sorry, but I don't care to be gay-bashed via radio, especially before breakfast. (Example: "Parakeets are stupid pets -- they're useless faggots," proclaimed the guys on WBCN the other day.) Click, off my presets they go forever.

Classical 102.5 is the only station I've found that assumes its audience is older than thirteen. However, I end up talking to that station when I listen to it because of their language choices. "Here is some music by which you can drive," one of the hosts told me this morning. I admire her correct grammar, but this isn't a medical journal, after all. There's one particular evening show whose title drives me crazy. It's called Tracks to Relax, as in: "Here are some tracks to relax." And I always shout "TO! Tracks to relax TO!" Doesn't that sound more fun? It rhymes better, and "relax to" is the obvious mirror of "tracks to." But to tack on that "to" would demand that the whole show be re-titled Tracks To Which You Can Relax. My observation for Classical 102.5 would be that one can respect grammar without being a slave to it.

I want to start my own station. It would play mostly indie bands. It would be somewhat snobby and elitist, but with a welcoming tone that assumes everyone is equally snobby. It would never refer to women as bitches or sluts. And although it might rant about how parakeets are indeed stupid pets, it would make more creative comparisons.

Chafee for Senate?

Living in Massachusetts, one of the bluest states, there's not a lot of chance to play in the game of national politics. Not that I'm complaining about its blueness, of course, but when you vote with the majority, it's... well, boring.

In Rhode Island, especially this election year, it's a bit different, and a senate race here has presented me with a quandary.

Running for re-election is Lincoln Chafee, a Republican. He's made news by being the only Republican to support marriage equality, as well as for his decision to not vote for Bush in 2004 (he wrote-in Bush's father). I like him.

Running against Chafee is Sheldon Whitehouse, Democrat. He seems like a talking head whose script hasn't strayed from "bring the troops home now."

There's no doubt that I want to vote for Chafee. He's an independent thinker -- in my opinion, a good example of what a senator should be. But unfortunately, because of the actions of other members of his party, this election is about more than Chafee vs. Whitehouse.

Whether the Democrats take over the House or Senate isn't about the Democrats at all, but rather is an affirmation or denouncement by the public of Bush. The headlines the world will read will be either American people side with Bush or American people oust Bush's party. I think it's important for our credibility as a country that they see the latter headline.

The race is close. Can I vote for Chafee and risk the Democrats losing the Senate by one seat? Is it more important to vote for a good man or against a bad man?

So long, 100

I was in Boston the other day and I happened to see in a local paper an article reporting the sale of some Emerson dorms, including my old dorm, 100. 132 Beacon, the Student Union, 6 Arlington -- they're all gone now. Emerson moved out.

Partly it makes me sad because these buildings, old and decrepit as they may have been, had character that can never be replaced by hi-tech. And I'm sad too because these buildings I spent so much time in will be gutted and turned into million-dollar condos -- especially 100. A huge part of my life took place in that building.

But for the same reason I'm sad about it not being a dorm anymore, I'm glad too. That was my dorm, and there's something satisfying about seeing it sealed off... and seeing a newspaper proclaim that no one -- at least college students -- can live there anymore. Future Emersonians will make their memories elsewhere.

I guess it's fitting that I left Boston the same summer 100 ceased to exist. It'd been a long time since I last looked up at my old windows and wished I still lived there, but it's comforting to know I haven't left anything behind. No Christmas lights in the windows. No smokers on the steps. No orientation leaders in brightly-colored shirts. No shuttle bus idling outside. Just businessmen now, deciding how to carve it up.

The Rasterbator

In our new apartment Chris and I have huge amounts of empty wall-space. Anything other than a mural would be swallowed up by these walls. Unfortunately, big art comes in big prices.

Enter the Rasterbator.

Upload any image file and this web program will instantly send it back to you in the gigantic size of your choice, neatly divided into up to 20 meters' worth of 8x10 paper.

It's awesome and it's free. Let the creativity begin!

The Illusion-less

Last night Mike and I went to see The Illusionist. We were excited that Edward Norton and Paul Giamatti had opposing roles. We were sure the movie would be delightful. "A twist ending like I've never seen," is one of the things I read. I also read that Jessica Biel does well in comparison to the two male leads, two actors whom I consider to be among the best alive today.

What a disappointment. As the plot gets rolling, we're introduced to an obvious set-up for a twist ending, but I held in there. Surely the twist would be far better than the false, fake-out twist they were setting up.

It wasn't. The twist that you see coming by midway into the movie is the only twist there was. "Twist ending like I've never seen" might apply if this movie came out before The Sixth Sense, before Fight Club. But in this post-twist world of movies, The Illusionist was a big yawn.

I am hardly ever disappointed by movies. I usually find something about them that I like. I am hesitant to say I dislike anyting. "It was entertaining," Mike said, "even though you knew exactly where it was going."

My money was better spent the night before last, on Jackass Two. At best performance art and at worst a bunch of morons just trying to get rich, it was entertaining. The audience alone made it fun. There was a drug-bust midway into the movie; police officers removed five baggy-clothed kids. I was carded on the way in, as were lots of other people. Parents had to accompany their kids but often didn't sit with them. During the previews, two teen boys sat down on the other side of Mike and immediately began chugging bottles of cough medicine. The mother and father on the other side of me kept whispering to each other. She covered her eyes through 20% of it.

It makes me feel young to have enjoyed Jackass more than the stylings of Norton and Giamatti. And it makes me feel old to have had that thought.

Strunk & White say "Rain all day"

Boston.com Weather says,

Sunday: A chance of showers and thunderstorms before 9am, then a chance of showers between 9am and noon, then a chance of showers and thunderstorms between noon and 3pm, then showers likely after 3pm.

Amazing Races

Call me a sucker for a gimmick. I haven't watched Survivor since, I think, season two, but I tuned in last night for the premiere of season 13, the one where they've divided the teams by race.

My first thought when I saw the commercial was one many other people probably shared: "Are they really doing that?" I'll hand it to CBS -- it was a pretty ballsy move. We don't even like to talk about race in this country, never mind create situations where four different races would openly compete.

Survivor, however, calls them "ethnicities" rather than "races," and in a weird way that makes the whole thing more palatable, doesn't it? To me, ethnicity suggests ancestry, where race is all about DNA. And race is almost irrelevant since, as far as I know, the DNA of a white person is all but indistinguishable from a black person or an Asian person or a Latin American.

And the gimmick turned out to feel mostly irrelevant too. Sure, there will probably be a tendency to want to read symbolism into which team wins and which loses, but with only five representative people per team it would be hard to take any of that seriously. What struck me the most was how American all these people are. Being American somehow supersedes color. So it's probably a lot less scandalous than CBS had hoped. They're just dopes on an island, after all, no matter what color they are.

They're going to have to show more of Ozzy shimmying up palm trees if they're going to keep me watching, because the race thing is old news already. I'm happy to say: Who cares?

Overheard Excerpts

Two Overheard in the Office exchanges I liked today:

Little girl looking at Ann Coulter's Godless: Who's that lady, dad?
Dad: She's a crazy lady who doesn't know what she's talking about.
Little girl: She looks like she should be in movies.
Dad: [Shocked silence]
Little girl: But not very good movies.
Dad: Ha! That's my girl.

Manager: So why do you want to work in a book store?
Teen: Um...I love reading books.
Manager: What's the last book you read?
Teen: Uh...Umm...I don't...[Giggles]...Umm...
Manager: Well, what's your favorite book?
Teen: Um...
Manager: Okay.

A Find

I was thrilled to find this Vera Wang dress on a recent comb through a discount store. According to various websites, it retails for over $800. I paid $40. It was the only one they had, it was my size, and it's actually long enough for me! And it wasn't a frivolous purchase - I can wear it to my friend's upcoming wedding.

I would have purchased it whether it was Vera Wang or not, ( I don't care about designer names) but the fact that it is gives me a little extra pleasure.

Aw, crikey...

I guess if you have to go, and you're a crocodile hunter, getting stabbed in the heart by a stingray is just about the best way it can happen.


Still really sad, though. I don't think there was anyone who disliked this guy, if only because he was a such a passionate and crazy mofo.

My Amorous Neighbors

The other night I thought someone was being raped in the apartment next door. To be sure, before I called the police, I pressed my ear to the wall.

I finally concluded, from the tone of the word "baby" that peppered the woman's moaning, that it wasn't rape. At first I felt relieved that I wouldn't have to file a police report or be called to the witness stand, but then I began to feel a little put-on. Was this for real? Who moans like that? I mean really! Was she winning the lottery with each staccato slam of the headboard against the wall? Did each shriek mark the solution of some great human mystery? Was the sex really that good? Is sex ever really that good? Or was she just putting on a show?

The moaning was steady over the course of a half-hour period from 1:30AM to 2AM. From the man, there were some soft guttural growls.

What's funny is that I never heard any evidence of the neighbors' existence until that robust session. And there have been lots more since, always with the same vigor and enthusiasm. Yesterday's session was held in the bathtub -- I could hear them sliding around like a couple of seals. I've considered that she may be a "working girl," which would account for the drama and the odd times (sex at 4PM on a Monday?).

Until the answer is revealed (if it ever is), me and my cats (who seem equally intrigued) will remain morbidly curious.

IMAX 3D

Yesterday I went to see Superman Returns at the IMAX. Certain action sequences were converted to 3D for an additional thrill. The 3D didn't impress me very much because I found it made everything look small. For example, Lex's yacht couldn't really fit in front of you, thus when it appears possible to touch it, it looks like it must be a model. However, the flashback where young Clark is learning to fly ended up being almost... erotic. My feelings for Brandon Routh are far too majestic to ever approach the sexual, but his teenage counterpart, Stephan Bender, is, I'm sorry, a hottie. And it was like he was right there in front of me!

Adult movie producers take note: the market for 3D porn would be unlike anything the world has ever seen.

Providence Impressions: Rah-Coco's

Yesterday I thought since I prefer to support the independent comic shop rather than a chain, I'd check out what 1-888-Comic-Shop told me was the closest one to my new apartment. I thrilled at the idea that there could be a Comicopia (my Boston shop)-like store within a mile from me.

Well, it was easy to find... geographically... but its exact location was among many doors in a warehouse-type building at the end of a dead-end road, accessed via the parking lot of an auto body shop. I had to ask the pale, long-white-haired man smoking on the stairs outside the door whether this was "Rah-Coco's." He said "mm." I went in and was stared down curiously by three middle-aged employees, including an oldish woman whose presence in a corner threw me for a loop, and one disembodied voice asking "can I help you?" as I searched around for the new releases. It was very dungeon-like, dark and tight and chock full of collectibles -- I don't even know what I mean by collectibles, because I can't recall any particular object -- and it took me a while even to find any comics, which then were all back-issues. I asked the woman for the new releases; she said she was just putting them out now, and to come back. I said I would. Then I climbed over the white-haired man, who was now sitting and filling the width of the stairs, and went to the nearest Newbury Comics.

It made me miss Comicopia's bright yellow walls, its easy navigation, its hairy-but-friendly yoga-master owner. But something tells me I'll go back to "Rah-Coco's," if only to peruse the back issues.

Rancid

I have nothing insightful to say about seeing Rancid in Boston. Just that it rocked.

And I wish I had a mohawk.

Political Satire

Want to know what's going on?

Utne magazine says: "Ask a Comic."

Toxicity

I read an interesting article over the weekend that asked a good question: Why do people strive to eat organic food but ignore all the other toxins in their lives?

The article went on to discuss all the terrible chemicals (some known carcinogens) in carpets, mattresses and cotton sheets and clothing.

I looked into this further, learning that the cotton needed to make a single pair of jeans typically gets 3/4 of a pound of pesticides. That cotton crops are the biggest pesticide problem - contributing to poisoned water and depleted soil. It doesn't stop with the crops though, cotton is processed using many other chemicals. Then you wear it, or sleep wrapped in it, exposing your absorpitive skin to the toxins. (Or worse, the chemical-treated cotton goes to tampon production.)

And that new car smell? That's toxins coming out of the leather and carpeting. What's creepy is that we love that smell. Just like we love the smell of Lysol, clean clothes, perfumes, new shoes. We associate those smells with goodness and cleanliness, when they are really just the opposite.

I've learned that there are organic options for mattresses, carpets, furniture, sheets, and clothes. Contrary to what you might think, those options are just as comfy and soft, and they look the same. The furniture and carpets and mattresses are far more expensive, and pillows made from organic cotton are $30-$50 each. But organic cotton sheet sets are in the same price range as regular sheet sets. Organic cotton underwear and shirts are just slightly more expensive - averaging $10-$15 for one pair of underwear and around $20 for a simple t-shirt.

I'm thinking of starting a move to a green home with sheets sometime in the next couple of months.

Look into this. You can start at Sustainable Cotton which has a good summary of why cotton is one of the biggest issues.

It's scary that the products we think are safe, or the things we consider improvements over the way things were done 100 years ago, are so bad for us.

Lord of the Flies

The new issue of Bitch magazine has an article titled "Reading is Fundamental: Eight Books That Taught Us Something About Sex" by Juliana Tringali.

One of the subheadings is called "Island Crush," a vingette about Lord of the Flies that cracked me up. Here are a few snippets that give you the jist:

"As a 14-year-old, I saw in the book not a microcosm of world politics, not a commentary on the inherent evil in all men, but a tropical paradise populated by sweaty, smoldering, scantily clad boys... English boys."

"William Golding wrote his male characters to embody concepts like good and evil... Golding gave us the tantalizing dichotomy of Ralph and Jack. Who would you most like to get to second base with in a secret thicket? I spent such a large portion of fourth period pondering this, it should have been an essay question."

I never thought of Lord of the Flies in this light despite the fact that the whole stranded-on-an-island concept is a sexy premise. I guess I was just too young to think of the boys as attractive. Now they're so much younger than I am. That takes away any possible allure. The only feeling I remember having while reading it was pity for Piggy.

Guess I missed out...

Ennis vs. Bruce

Heath Ledger is the Joker? He's someone I never would've thought of, which probably means he'll be interesting and good.

I fondly remember, back in the mid-90s, Heath fighting medieval wizards in a WB show called ROAR. Despite his Australian brogue and his jumping around in leather pants, the show was bad, and thus short-lived, but I scrambled each week to tape every episode.

And now, after an Oscar nomination for his man-love in Brokeback Mountain, Heath is hopping into the DC Universe to show us his batshit crazy side. I can't wait.

A Pessimist's Take on a Fun Day

If this many people can get together for something as frivolous as winning the world record for the most people wearing fake nose and moustaches, why can't we get people together to protest the wrongs of our society, to stand up for unfortunate people, to support truly meaningful, life changing causes?

Is it just because we feel like we aren't strong enough to make big changes? Or is it just that it's not fun to protest the war in Iraq whereas it is fun to don a disguise and have your picture taken with a thousand other people?

*Also, was it worth $1,632.96 --the total cost of glasses-with-fake-noses purchased for this stunt? Where else could that money have gone?

Sunday, Interrupted

I looked forward to Sunday all week. I had DVDs to watch from Netflix and five books from the library to browse through. I had plenty of things to eat. I planned to lounge all day.

It was beautiful out on Sunday, 88 and sunny. I spent time outside on Saturday so I didn't feel like I was wasting the good weather by staying inside. But, by 4 o'clock, I decided I should go outside for a bit. I walked to get ice cream just down the street, less than half a mile away.

On the way there, I was whistled at by a guy driving by in a car.

On the way home, four guys in a truck with booming bass music called out at me. I was startled by the first guy, but I was able to react more quickly to the second group. Reflexively, I gave them the finger. I got a "What's your problem, bitch?!" in return.

I know it's not that big a deal, but with all the fear mongering about girls getting raped and abducted, it's a real shame that I can't walk down the street for an ice cream cone without feeling afraid. It's not like I was wearing a bikini -- I had on knee-length jean shorts and a tank top that was neither low-cut nor cropped (which I mention to debunk the infuriating "she was asking for it" debate). Groups of guys, even those cruising by in a car, are very intimidating. So it is a big deal.

And no, it's not at all flattering.

The Graduate

I'd never seen this iconic movie until this weekend.

Dustin Hoffman's character reminded me of Holden Caufield. The college-age confused guy who doesn't know what he wants (or maybe it's because I just finished a 20 page paper on J.D. Salinger), but The Graduate made me sad in the same way the main character of Igby Goes Down made me sad. Igby also reminded me of Holden.

Is this confused, belligerent, desperate young man a stock character now?

Before 30

I'm also reading Swim Naked, Defy Gravity and 99 Other Essential Things to Accomplish Before Turning 30 - ridiculous maybe, especially because I won't be 30 for several more years. Also ridiculous because, unknown to me, the author is a frequent contributor to women's magazines like Glamour. Had I know that, I probably wouldn't have bothered requesting it from the library. But they held it for me and I went to get it, so I decided to read it.

I was pleased to find that I have already accomplished many of the tasks the author sets for her panicking readers. In addition to being pleased by this, I was also disappointed to see how trivial some of the ideas were. Things like "find the perfect shade of red lipstick." I guess maybe simple things like that are included to make the lazy or stunted approaching-30 woman feel that she has done something worthwhile, something worth including in a book.

Not everything is frivolous. "Learn to accept compliments," "own your mistakes," "find your religion," "get to know your parents." These are noble quests, but how can you do it with only a one-page accompanying write-up for each action item?

After a second browse through, I realized I wasn't that proud to have already "accomplished" some of the things included: get a massage, read your old diaries, write thank-you notes, sleep in a hammock, write a complaint letter, Google yourself, build a campfire, swim naked, break all of your parents arbitrary rules, own a frivolous pair of undies, have your fortune told, get waxed...down there, eat soy, walk in heels, and give yourself flowers. Done and done. But what does that do for me?

Most of all, this made me want to write my own list of things I'd like to accomplish before turning 30. One of the only things that would make it onto my list that was also in the book is "travel solo." I would like to take a vacation by myself - one that involves a plane. I've driven plenty of places alone, and I've flown alone but there has always been someone waiting to get me when I land. I want to go somewhere unknown and be on my own the whole time. It's an uncomfortable thought, much like going to the movies alone once was. I heard somewhere that you should always do things that make you feel uncomfortable or that scare you.

I'm not sure what else would be on my list of things to accomplish in life. Do you?

A TV Example

I'm reading The Culture of Fear. Among the many good points the author makes, one has stuck out so far. It seems like the most obvious thing but I've never heard anyone say it and it never occurred to me:

So many people blame violence on TV for violence in our society, claiming the violence shown in our favorite shows encourages aggression in us. The author asks, What about all of the good things in TV shows? He says that TV characters are always doing good things for their families, friends and even strangers. So, if TV encourages violence, wouldn't it encourage in us at least an equal amount of kindness?

The Weeping Bankrobber

Ethan: You always done loved you some nostalgia.

Ben: You're right, if I were a superhero my name would be Nostalgia Man. I would weaken my enemies by making them feel sentimental about their past.

Cowabunga!

Now that Superman Returns is out, I need another movie to look forward to. I guess I need look no further.

To this day, I can't have a pencil in my hand without doodling a Turtle.

Take It Off

I'm wearing a dress today that is like an extra-long button-down shirt. It's knee length but it has a collar and buttons all the way down the front. If you unbuttoned all of them, you could take it off like a robe, or, well, like a button-down shirt.

This guy at work (who is less then ten years older than me) just said to me, "I have a question for you and I hope you won't think it's inappropriate. I saw you walk by with that dress, and that dress has buttons all the way to the bottom and so, I wondered like, how do you take that dress off? Do you unbutton it all the way, or do you undo a few and pull it over your head?"

"I unbutton it to like, here," I said, pointing at about bellybutton height, "and then I step out of it." It immediately occurred to me that if I said that line in a sexy voice, slowly and making eye contact the whole time, it would have been like a sex scene in a movie. Instead, I said it matter-of-factly, not making eye contact at all, and poking my soda-bloated belly like I was the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

"You do?" he asked. "So, you don't take it off like it was a robe or anything?"

"Nope. Too lazy to undo all the buttons." Then I started to feel awkward about the conversation so I wanted to change it from the dress to something else so I said, "I do the same with shirts - I just unbutton them far enough to be able to pull them over my head. Then I wash them that way so there are fewer buttons to do up later."

"Really?! Because I unbutton shirts all the way."

I didn't say anything and continued to make my lunch. He then said, "I hope that didn't cross a line, but it just got me to thinking."

"Not at all," I said, thinking, Wow, if he wasn't young and sort of attractive that would so have been crossing a line.

Bathroom Discourse: Just A Drop

Ben: My mother gave me this potion called "Just A Drop." It comes in a little bottle and looks and smells like mouthwash, only more pungent. The idea is that you squirt "just a drop" into the toilet bowl and it freshens your public pooping experience. Apparently there's a whole market of people like us.

Maggie: Does it work? (Oh, and: blog post!)

Ben: Obviously I haven't tried it. Odor is only one of my plethora of issues with public bathrooms. I need more than Just A Drop -- I need a whole survival kit. Aside from deodorizer, the kit would contain sheets of soundproofing I'd use to pad the walls of the stall, as well as one of those Mission Impossible-style masks so I could be completely anonymous entering and exiting. But Just A Drop is a step in the right direction.

The Stifled, Workplace-Controlled Laugh

Hello Heather,

Hehe. Your happy birthday e-mail made me laugh a stifled workplace-controlled laugh. Actually I guess it was more of a smile, but with laughter behind it. Well, I did the best I could. I wouldn't want anyone to use it as an *in* to ask questions, specifically the new copyeditor who sits in the cube opposite me. She hasn't gotten the hang yet of our department's devotion to silence.

For example, this morning when I walked in she asked me how my weekend was. That was okay, as cordiality (unlike genuine interest) is not outside the bounds of our policies. But then she asked a follow-up to my simple and deflective "Good." She asked, "What did you do?"

I could feel the tension springing off my other coworkers at this breach of etiquette. It was like making a holocaust joke at a bar mitzvah. The room would've been filled with stunned silence if silence weren't already the norm. I knew I had to put this down, and quickly. I gave a simple answer, "Family visit--Superman--Dinner," and then went to the bathroom to wipe my back with paper towels.

"I'd Just Like to Meet Him"

Sometimes I wonder if CNN cares at all about its reputation. Today, under the heading "Law," there is a completely frivolous story about a woman who called 911 just to get a good-looking police officer to come back to her house so she could flirt and give him her number. (He had checked in with her earlier, after responding to a legitimate noise complaint she phoned in.)

The alleged point of the story is to make people aware that 911 is not a dating service. What annoys me is that everyone knows what 911 is for (with the exception of a few crazy people who might count this woman among their ranks). The county sheriff is even quoted as saying this is the first time in his experience that 911 has been used for a personal reason like this.

I feel like the story enforces the stereotype of "desperate-unmarried woman." I feel like this story could even be completely fake, or at least, exaggerated considerably. The woman apparently told the dispatcher: "I just thought he was cute. I'm 45 years old and I'd just like to meet him again, but I don't know how to go about doing that without calling 911."

Even if this is 100 percent true and she's among the ranks of desperate single girls in addition to crazys, why is this CNN homepage-worthy news?

Of Breeders, Homos, and the Marriage Debate

So straight people are being harassed in Provincetown. Apparently they're being taunted and called "breeders."

My first instinct is to laugh. Hahaha! The shoe's on the other foot now, eh? There are enough places in the country that a gay person can't go -- it's about time there's one where straights get harrassed just for being straight.

But then I realize that the straight people who would choose to surround themselves with homos for their vacation are probably not the ones who deserve this kind of treatment.

There's one particularly absurd case, though, where a Provincetown woman who signed the same-sex marriage ban petition was called a bigot by some guy... who she then turned around and filed verbal assault charges against. The kicker is that she drives around in a trolley with a sign plastered on it that reads "That 'love thy neighbor' thing? I meant it . . . [signed] God."

So I guess it's loving thy neighbor to publicly declare him a second-class citizen, but calling someone a bigot is crossing a line. Hypocrites.

---------

Joshua had a good idea for solving this whole marriage debate. There should be no marriage at all, he says, except within one's own church. The state should recognize civil unions only, and those civil unions should be available to any two people regardless of gender or relationship. You would be legally bound to any one person of your choice. Obviously in most cases it would be husbands and wives. In other cases, gay or lesbian partners. But if, say, two widowed sisters wanted to combine their finances and ensure that they could make medical decisions for each other as they age, they should be able to get a civil union.

I definitely agree. Why should the government require that we be sleeping with the person we want to take care of us?

I'm so sick of seeing people protesting up at the State House (they were there two days ago for the umpteenth Constitutional Convention). I think civil unions for all is a perfect compromise.

M. Night is 80% Water

Maggie:
I'm really excited to see M. Night Shyamalan's Lady in the Water with Paul Giamatti. It comes out next weekend.

Ben:
I'm curious about Lady in the Water, but I don't have any high hopes for it. I thought Signs and The Village were both ridiculous. I feel like M.N.S. was a one-hit wonder with Sixth Sense.

Maggie:
I didn't really like The Village, but I like Signs, although I feel like it was a little absurd that water ended up being the way to fend off the aliens. And also, I didn't like actually seeing the alien towards the end. I think it was much scarier to see a foot here, a claw-hand there, never the whole creature. Much like it's better to want something than to get it, it's better to let your imagination create the most creepy thing possible than to have the movie show you a stereotypical-looking alien.

Also, I felt like, if the aliens were such good problem-solvers as the characters say they are, wouldn't they have realized that the planet is 80% water -- the thing that kills them?

With The Village, I was more interested in what happened after their ruse was uncovered. If the whole movie was condensed into twenty minutes or so, and then went on from there, I'd have been happier.

Ben:
I only saw Signs and The Village once each so I don't remember a lot of specific things that ruined them for me. I agree that we never should've seen the aliens in Signs. The quick glimpse on that home video was admittedly one of the creepiest/scariest movie-things I've ever seen... but as soon as they came fully into view, it was rather ridiculous, especially when that one was being all swooshy dancey around the Culkin boy. And you're definitely right in pointing out the absurdity of them coming all that way to a planet made up of water... but I didn't even think of that. I was too hung up on the fact that an alien who traveled across the galaxy in a space-ship could then get stuck in a pantry.

Ben Answers your Questions about Superman Returns

Our premiere question comes from Tom, my coauthor on the short-lived Crisis on Infinite Blogs, and it's more of a comment than a question.

[Bryan Singer] did a very good job of showing [Superman] use all his powers -- my favorite was when he took the shuttle off the plane using breath from his nostrils!!

A mistake, Tom, but one that is both endearing and understandable. It seems our imaginations have not caught up to the realism 21st-century special effects are capable of generating, because I'll admit that even I (yes, even I) was momentarily unsure of what was going on. Not a nostril blow, in fact, but heat vision, which we are accustomed to seeing represented by simple red beams. Here the rippling air shooting from his face, which you interpreted as a super-sneeze, was in fact the result of the heat vision super-heating the air, creating an effect much like the distortions you see above hot sidewalks in the summer.

But, indeed, an awesome scene regardless of where Kal-El was shooting from.

Got a question about Superman Returns that doesn't involve why there's so little action and why the movie is falling short of box office expectations? Send it along!

A Lexus Offense

All the designers in my office are up in arms over a daily parking lot offense. It seems there is a Lexus SUV that habitually and intentionally takes up two parking spots in the main lot, right near the door. It pulls into the spots diagonally each morning.

Each day they say to each other, "Did you see the Lexus today?" No one knows who is it, but it really rubs them the wrong way. "Not only does the car use all the gas, it needs to use all the parking spots?" they ask each other.

This morning they spent 15 minutes talking about it. They assume it is not someone who works with our company but with one of the other companies in our office building.

Plans for revenge include egging the car, blocking it in or leaving notes on the windshield. Taking a more illegal approach, the Intern is encouraging them to key the side of the car.

On a day when the back windshield of the Lexus was dusty, someone wrote "Oh, you're SO important" in the filth with their finger.

The saga goes on...

I wonder what kind of person can justify to themselves taking up two spots. Do they really think they are that important? Has their car been dinged one too many times, so they want to protect it as much as possible? (If that was the case, I'd think they would park far in the back away from all other cars.) Does the person sneak in and out of the building to avoid being seen and associated with this egotistical behavior? How did they feel when they saw the dust-written message on their car? Do they even know they are exhibiting inappropriate parking lot etiquette?

Relating Styles

According to Dr. Jan, there are three basic styles for romantic relationships: Traditional, Merged and Roommate.

The Traditional style of relating is often seen in our parents and grandparents - where one person is more dominant than the other in certain areas. For example, he may bring home the bacon while she may run the home.

More rare is the Merged style, where two people’s identities actually form one whole identity rather than two separate individuals. You often see this relationship when people get together when they’re really young, especially in adolescence, when you don’t have your identity fully formed. Or with older couples who’ve been together for 50 to 60 years; they probably started out as Traditional, then merged together.

Many people find they have the Roommate style of relating. In this style, you have two relatively equal individuals. They may live together, be married, they may have sex, they may have children, own a home, but they make decisions unilaterally. They’re not making decisions together in a partnering way. The Roommate style can work when everything is status quo. For many couples, it’s kind of like leading parallel lives; they only come together around certain things. However, when there is a major life change or when one person wants things to be different, it can often be a struggle. So if you have children, there’s a big move, a job change, or a financial change, this style of relating can lead to dissatisfaction or havoc.

Of course, none of these is "better" than any of the others, but Doc Jan has presented an interesting summary here. I think it's pretty accurate, but I feel like most relationships are all of these things in rotation. You may be Roommates when it comes to social lives, Traditional when it comes to apartments or finances, and Merged when it comes to dealing with each of your families. In my experience, I think your style depends on your setting or on what issue you as a couple are dealing with this month.

The Man Behind the Curtain

One of the worst possible things to do when you really like a book or a movie is to find out everything there is to know about how it came to be. To read about the actors, or about what drug the author was on while they wrote it. What does it mean to me to know that Stephen King was so drunk and coked up that he doesn't remember writing The Shining? Does that make The Shining better or worse? People are so desperate to know everything about something they like, but I believe knowing it all takes away from the entertainment value of the thing itself.

For example, Ben told me that his dad avoided all reviews and articles and interviews about the Lord of the Rings movies. Doing so made the movies more real for him. Meanwhile, me, Ben and many others spent hours watching the DVDs extras to see how the movie was made.

I bring this up because on Thursday I stood in line for three hours in 92 degree New York City heat to see The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. As previous posts can confirm, I love The Daily Show. I love Jon Stewart. Well, loved. Because being there and seeing how they film it and what they do during commercial break time and how the studio really looks ruined it for me. After taking the ferry back across the river to New Jersey and arriving at home after a Diner dinner, I said, "I can't ever watch The Daily Show again."

Learning about what parts of a book are based on real experiences, what parts of the movie stunt doubles were used, or that your favorite TV personalities have a TV personality... well, it's like wanting to learn how magic tricks are done. You feel more in-the-loop, but it's not fun anymore.

As our ferry scooted between Circle Line tour boats and Manhatten was left behind us, I thought of the Wizard of Oz. That sometimes you really should pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Superman Returns: A Pre-Review

I now posess tickets to Superman Returns, for tomorrow night, 9:55. This has been a long time coming. It goes back to 1997, when Tim Burton was going to dress Nicolas Cage in black leather and give him some guns and call that Superman. (And that, scarily enough, was one of the better ideas.) But here we are in 2006 and the Man of Steel is just as he should be, complete with red undies and spit-curl.

For two years I followed the production via message boards and blogs and set reports and interviews. I remember when Bryan Singer, who I knew from X-Men, came on board to direct. I remember when Christopher Reeve died, and, by a coincidence that made it seem like myth unspooling, a few days later Brandon Routh was plucked out of some Iowan cornfield and put in Reeve's red boots. The unveiling of the suit. The casting of Lex Luthor. The first photos of the Kent farm -- I watched the corn grow. And now...

Deep breath. I don't want to hyperventilate here.

I've wondered why it is that I care so much about this. I've always liked Superman, but it used to be that I thought he was cool, his powers were cool, he could fly. Now it's that I need him. I look around and everything is shit. Religion often seems to bring out the very worst in people. Our government right now is despicable. Sure there are good people to be found, but there is no grand, exciting idea that isn't rife with corruption.

The S is one of the few symbols that hasn't been stained. Sure it's a cartoon symbol, but everyone knows it means "truth, justice and the American way" -- terms vague and elusive enough to still actually mean something. I see a cross, and the good it's supposed to represent is tarnished by what it really means when people carry it around. It's never done to welcome. Even when I see an American flag my patriotism isn't what it used to be because I'm ashamed of so much of what has been done with it lately. Ideals, pure and valuable as they may be, have a hard time overpowering what I see their representatives doing every day.

So that's why I need a comic strip hero. Because here is a messianic god-on-earth story mediated by blue tights and a red cape. Because the "American way" Superman fights for still means what the Founding Fathers intended. Because everything else sucks.

Call me an alienated Christian and a disenchanted American.

And I don't think I'm the only person who feels that way. I read one review somewhere (I wish I could find it again), where the reviewer said, "I didn't realize how much I missed Superman until he was back."

People treat him like he's real. Some people even argue that he is. From a Wired article by Neil Gaiman:

About a decade ago, Alvin Schwartz, who wrote Superman comic strips in the 1940s and ‘50s, published one of the great Odd Books of our time. In An Unlikely Prophet, reissued in paperback this spring, Schwartz writes that Superman is real. He is a tulpa, a Tibetan word for a being brought to life through thought and willpower.

An Unlikely Prophet brings up an important question about Superman: What makes people want to meet him so badly? It’s tough to imagine a similar book about, say, Green Lantern or Captain America. Superman is different because he doesn’t really belong to the writers who’ve created his adventures over the last 68-plus years. He has evolved into a folk hero, a fable, and the public feels like it has a stake in who Superman “really” is. We retell his tales because we wish he were here, real, to keep us safe.

And that's it. We want a protector. "You wrote that the world doesn't need a savior," Superman tells Lois in the new movie, "but every day I hear people crying out for one."

Obviously I don't worship Superman, and maybe that's the key. A good story can suffer under the burden of people believing it's true. Truth is controlled and fought over, while fiction (especially money-generating fiction) is spread as wide as possible. So that's where I disagree with Mr Schwartz about Superman being a tulpa. Not that I don't think there's enough collective willpower to spring Superman into existence, but rather that it's better for him to stay a story. I think, if he exists in our imaginations, and if we can find some happiness in the idea that someone will swoop out of the sky and save us while knowing it will never really happen, that's good enough. To accept something as fiction and to be un-deterred by that is something special.

I would even suggest that maybe, possibly, that's faith.

South Central Farm

The South Central Farm was the largest urban farm in the U.S. On June 14 it was "attacked" by city officials. Trees were cut down, bulldozers plowed over families' food, and tree-sitters removed (including actress Daryl Hannah).

350 families created the farm 14 years ago after the 1992 uprising. At that time, the land was given to the community by the mayor.

The official owner of the land decided to sell and the community could not raise the $16.3 million to buy the land.

Such a shame. I'd never heard of this before but it seems like it would be a really great thing for any community. (On July 12, the farmers and community will go to court to fight the legality of the sale of the land.)

I wish things like this made the news while they were still in existence. I wish it didn't take demolition or loss to get into the papers and onto the Web.

Pleasing Mr Gore

Dear Maggie,

Was yours and Mike's decision to keep your air conditioner set to 75 instead of lower influenced by Al Gore? Chris and I reluctantly installed ours last night, only after any chance of sleeping without it seemed impossible. With some things, I'm happy to lower my carbon footprint. For example, since seeing Al's movie I now put my computer to sleep at night and when I'm at work, where I used to leave it running 24/7. And drowning polar bears are a good excuse to use fewer lights (I prefer dim ambiance anyway). But other times, like with the air conditioner and other power-slurping appliances, I feel guilty choosing emissions over discomfort. But I guess there must be some balance struck between what is feasible and what's not. For example, the fridge must run and there's no way around it. But, of course, Al says that small lifestyle adjustments, multiplied by millions or billions of people, is all it takes. I think he would be happy with our efforts.

Environmentally yours,

Ben

PS: Plus, the financial conservative in me, who doesn't give a crap about the bears, will be thrilled by the low electric bills.

Honor Among Vagrants

"I'm a friend!" screeched one vagrant as he thew another vagrant to the ground. "I'm a friend!"

Yesterday when I was walking home from work I noticed these two beating the shit out of each other beside the Park Street fountain. I adjusted my path to take me around the opposite side from where this vagabrawl was going down.

"I'm a friend!" screamed the first vagrant again. Other vagrants standing around said "Let him up" in hushed throaty tones. But the first vagrant was having none of it. The other vagrant lay stiffly on the ground on his back, while the first vagrant jumped around on top of him. And finally we (we as in all the passersby), who had missed the beginning of this fight, got more information: The first vagrant screamed, "How could you think I'd mean anything by it!??!" He screamed this in agony, the agony of someone whose car has just cruelly been driven into a lake, and then he resumed slamming his buddy, his pal, against the concrete.

So this wasn't a dispute over the half-empty Starbucks cup some officeworker had left on the curb, or a stray nickel, or even an old mitten. This was about honor. Something had been said in jest, but not received that way.

I imagine it went a bit like this:

"Haha," the first vagrant laughs, pointing. "Look how shiny your baldino is."

"What?" retorts the other vagrant. "Why you talking about my baldino? You're a fucking asshole, talking about my baldino."

"I'm just kidding, I didn't mean anything by it."

"I thought you was a friend, but you're talking shit about my baldino."

"AAAAHHHH!!!!" The first vagrant erupts and lands a punch in the other vagrant's toothless kisser.

It was funny to me, at first, that these people would care so much about their reputation. But, on second thought, what else do they have?

The first vagrant is a friend, goddammit. And there's a puddle of blood on the sidewalk to prove it.

Hemingway's shortest story...

...consisted of six words. Here it is, in its glorious entirety:

For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.

Earth breath

One of the most interesting things pointed out in An Inconvenient Truth can be seen in this graph, which measures the growing amounts of carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere.



Disregard the overall increase (but don't disregard it too much, of course) and notice how the levels go up and down every year, like teeth on a saw. This is because each year green plants take in carbon dioxide when they're growing and give it off when they die in the fall. It's like every year the whole earth takes a giant breath. Ahhhhhh.

Isn't that cool?

On a related note, Stephen Hawking says we need to establish colonies in space soon to ensure the survival of the human race.

[I]f humans can avoid killing themselves in the next 100 years, [Hawking said,] they should have space settlements that can continue without support from Earth.

"It is important for the human race to spread out into space for the survival of the species," Hawking said. "Life on Earth is at the ever-increasing risk of being wiped out by a disaster, such as sudden global warming, nuclear war, a genetically engineered virus or other dangers we have not yet thought of."

My bet? We don't make it in time. Thus my theory of time travel would work out perfectly. Mwuhahaha.

MySpace priorities

Have you ever bumped a real-live friend out of your Top 8 to make room for the profile of a fictional character?

I'm a little embarassed to admit that I've done just that. But hey, it's Superman!

I'm sure the bumpee will understand.

Hear ye? Hear ye?

Can you hear this ringtone?

According to the NY Times, this new ringtone, which only young people can hear,

is perfect for signaling the arrival of a text message without being detected by an elder of the species.

"When I heard about it I didn't believe it at first," said Donna Lewis, a technology teacher at the Trinity School in Manhattan. "But one of the kids gave me a copy, and I sent it to a colleague. She played it for her first graders. All of them could hear it, and neither she nor I could."

I can hear it. Thank god. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to. Guess I can push that quarter-life crisis off a little while.

An Inconvenient Truth

I've been interested in seeing this movie for a while, mostly out of curiousity. What would a 90-minute science slide-show by Al Gore be like?

Turns out it was pretty damn good... which made it also pretty damn depressing. Seeing the man who was almost president made me long for what would have been, or at least what would not have been. There would be no war in Iraq, Americans wouldn't have to say they were Canadian in order to travel abroad -- to name a few. Gore needn't have been the next Lincoln to have had the country better off than it is.

And then it was further depressing because I could see how different Gore is when he's not campaigning (something he's admitted he sucks at). He was less stage-managed in this movie than during his 2000 campaign. He was knowledgable, approachable, even funny (it wasn't a political movie but he still got in two or three humorous jabs at Bush), and, most imporantly, curious. He likes to learn. He has imagination and vision. And it was depressing to think that all of these things can so easily get shoved aside in modern presidential campaigns, where the focus group is everything, and you have to be so careful about what you say because every word that comes out of your mouth will play on a hundred news stations.

After my regrets and my election-pessimism passed, the movie started to get scary. Terrifying. Because if it's even half correct on the effects of global warming (which apparently is agreed upon nearly unanimously by scientists even though the media portrays it as a theory), we're in big trouble.

If I had any problem at all with the movie as I was watching it, it was that I felt it sometimes portrayed Gore as too knowledgable, too borderline omniscient on the subject of global warming. He has been pushing this for over twenty years, but there was never a sense of "I told you so" from him -- that wasn't the issue. The problem I thought I would have was that the movie would end up presenting Gore as The Man To Fix This. And that gave me pause.

Everyone knows that the best way to gain power is by scaring people. It's been demonstrated in fiction, in, for example, V For Vendetta, wherein the regime seeking power secretly creates and unleashes a deadly virus and then runs on the platform of finding a cure. And it's been demonstrated in real life by the Bush Administration working the terror angle till they're blue in the face -- the old "Only we can keep you safe" routine. So I thought, is Al Gore showing this problem and positioning himself as the answer, as our best hope? Because this movie was pretty damn scary. Scarier than anything the Republicans have come up with.

But it didn't stay scary, and that's what separates it. After the pictures showing that there are no more famous "snows of Kilimanjaro," and that Glacier National Park is now more accurately called Lake National Park -- and after the simulations showing what the country would look like if the polar icecaps melted and the oceans rose twenty feet... after all that, it turned out to be inspiring. And it eased my earlier fears of a Gore power-grab. Because, at the end, he asks us to fix this problem. It was the furthest thing possible from Bush's tactic of "Go about your lives as normal while we handle the problem." Gore says the opposite: Do these things, some simple, some difficult, change the way you live, and you can fix the problem. He himself didn't factor into it. It was all about us.

And that's great. Because when was the last time we were asked to do anything? When was the last time we were made to feel like we can? It's as though our leaders are afraid of pissing us off by asking us to get off the couch. We are a great people in America, but we're lazy. We need to be inspired. Not since Kennedy has anyone looked to the stars and given us a seemingly impossible goal and told us to meet it. "America, get yourself in gear. Go, go and get me the Moon."

Gore, though not as eloquent as Kennedy, is giving us a similar goal with An Inconvenient Truth: Go, go and get me the Earth.

www.climatecrisis.net
watch the trailer.