The Wife has wanted an iPod for quite some time now, so - being the dutiful husband I am - I went ahead and waited a couple years until I had made all my own vanity purchases, paid off some bookies, and got her one. I opted for the 20 Gb model because, well, what the hell do I know? We have (what I assumed were) bunches and bunches of CDs, so better safe than sorry. Good thinking, that was, because even after loading most of her discs and a smattering of mine, there's still well over 10 Gb on the thing.
Anyway, I can already tell what a positive effect this is going to have on the marriage. Our coversations, for example, are alreadt friendlier. In the past, we've sometimes had contentious discussions over religion and current events. Now, she's much more agreeable, nodding in assent with my sage wisdom, a half-smile on her face, her earpieces snugly in place.
Conversation among married couples is overrated anyway, and we can sometimes go for hours on end without speaking, comfortable just to be in each other's company.
Child-rearing seems to have gotten easier for The Wife, too. Now, our daughter's cries no longer seem to elicit the same feelings of consternation in her, and she's taken the healthier step of letting the baby just "cry it out," which some experts feel is healthier. I had my doubts at first, but the upside is that our child and I have grown much closer as a result.*
Spouses need their alone time, as well. I'm happy to report that since the addition of out iPod to our happy home, The Wife is much more keen on taking long walks away through the neighborhood, sharing her newfound contraption with other technologically enabled people. She's taken up quite an interest with that young Brazilian gentleman who just moved in a few houses down (I think she said he models for Abercrombie and Fitch). Hey, anything that increases our sense of community in our country is all right with me.
I encourage anyone who wants to strengthen their personal relationships to get an iPod for their loved ones. You'll be amazed at the way it improves your life.
*That was a joke, just in case you're reading this and happen to be a sarcasm-deprived Child Protective Services investigator. Or Wayne Dolcefino.
Texas A&M lost to Baylor for the first time since 1985? Not even oft-vilified coach R.C. Slocum ever let that happen.
Okay, the "death watch" thing is a bit much. But Baylor? Guess the Bears were chafing a bit about that 57-point loss in College Station last year.
UPDATE: Reports are trickling in about the extent of damage caused by the celebrations in Waco last night. Apparently most of the students were up until almost 10:30 PM, and several books at Jesse H. Jones Library were not returned to their proper shelves.
Animals.
I've been too busy/lazy/distracted of late to pay much attention to what the rest of my blogging ilk are saying about then Governor Bush's use of the middle finger salute (Salon subscription or day pass required).
This is, as the article points out, the same guy who called a New York Times reporter a "major league asshole," so the fact that he flipped the bird at someone (he apparently thought it was advisor Karen Hughes) shouldn't really surprise anybody. The video, obtained by Texans for Truth, isn't likely to change anyone's minds. Supporters will laud it as indicative of Bush's "give 'em hell" attitude, while opponents will get more ammunition for their "smug fratboy prick" claims. Personally, I probably gave the finger on five separate occasions yesterday.
That, combined with my sneering dislike for humanity, is merely one more reason to why I will never, in a gazillion years, run for public office.
Sorry, couldn't think of any amusing "covers" puns.
I see (via Fark), that the Guardian has put out a list of the 10 worst covers of all time. Author Graeme Thompson tried to limit his list to those who felt they were paying respect to the original (thereby eliminating Shatner, et. al.). A few of these are distincly Britpop, so I can't comment on them, but a few deserve at least some sort of overreaction, and I'm just the guy to do it.
1. Duran Duran '911 Is A Joke'
Oh,abso-freaking-lutely. I've discussed the peroxided ones sins against music before, even going so far as to name this song specifically. Thompson calls it "shockingly misconceived in both theory and execution." Jolly right.
2. Ronan Keating 'Fairytale Of New York'
Keating is evidently some sort of pop singer across the pond. Either way, I can't imagined anyone topping the Pogues' version, or why they'd try.
3. Frank Sinatra 'Something'
Well, "Somethin' Stupid" was pretty bad too. Haven't heard this, though.
5. David Bowie 'God Only Knows'
As in, the Beach Boys song? Wow. I can only imagine the lyrics: "God only knows what I did to make Iggy Pop stick around for so many years...God only knows what I was thinking with Tin Machine."
7. Johnny Cash 'Danny Boy'
Easy there, Graeme. Cash is one of the only people I would let have a stab at covering just about anything. His renditions of "Hurt" and "Rusty Cage" bear that out.
10. Kevin Rowland 'The Greatest Love Of All'
I can't imagine going out of my way to look for any of the versions mentioned in this article, but the singer from Dexy's Midnight Runners taking on Whitney Houston is something I might just have to check out.
This'll be my (thankfully) last entry about baseball for a while. I suppose I should be happy the Series only went 4 games, thereby sparing me the incipient cardiac arrest brought on by having to sit through a 4-game St. Louis comeback.
Yeah, I don't buy it either. Sounded good at the time, though.
Now that Boston has finally "reversed the Curse" or whatever other cutesy expression Globe columnists will be using until spring training begins, you Sox fans should probably take a minute to realize something else that's changed with your victory (and with apologies to Bill Hicks):
You're no longer special.
The last 86 years have been great for you, in a way, because you could always count on support from those vast legions of baseball fans who might have been indifferent to Boston, but absolutely hated the effing Yankees. Every year, as fall rolled around and the playoffs loomed, talk inevitably turned to the Sox and how they'd screw the pooch this time. Boston's spirit was admired, like your dumbass kid brother who keeps getting up no matter how many times you pound him, even if their play on the field didn't hold up. Anyone who'd ever struggled against seemingly insurmountable odds and gotten slapped down for it could sympathize.
No longer.
You guys are just another AL team that hides behaind the designated hitter to us now. Your sportswriters will have to come up with some other reason to explain away future chokes and heartbreaking losses, but nobody else will care. Your World Series clock is reset to 0, leaving you ahead of everyone else in the majors (including - horrors - New York). Worse, attention now swings wholly over to the Cubs (though, inexplicably, not the other Chicago team), who can enjoy the attentions of part-time fans who need another loveable loser to root for. And they've got a lot to choose from: Cubs (1907), White Sox (1917), Indians (1948), Astros (n/a), or Padres (n/a). And what about San Francisco?
Some may call it sour grapes. That after watching one of the great post-season collapses in history by St. Louis, I'm being somewhat petty. Not at all. I'm not happy with the way the Cards played, that's no secret, but I'm not trying to take away from Boston's well-earned victory. I'm just trying to prepare my BoSox brethren for the letdown. It won't come tomorrow, or next week, or probably not even until next season, but it's out there. Like a pissed-off Ray Bourque with a hangover and a Sher-Wood 7030, it'll be along to reintroduce y'all to reality.
And hey, it's been 22 years since the Cards won it all. Maybe we should be considered hard luck now, too.
That's right, old chum; the leader of the wealthiest church on the planet is telling us we spend too much time trying to get paid:
Pope John Paul II urged listeners to think more about the inevitability of death than on becoming richer, more successful or more powerful.
The 84-year-old pontiff, who suffers from Parkinson's disease, denounced "the constant tendency of mankind to cling to money," thinking of it as a force capable even of overcoming death.
He told an audience of about 20,000 people huddling in the rain in St. Peter's Square that many people "seek at all costs to ignore the reality of death, casting it to the horizon of their thoughts," rather than seeing it as the "fundamental point of arrival of human existence that cannot be avoided."
Or maybe, realizing the inevitability of death is what makes us grab for all that stuff to begin with. I don't think money can prevent death (not yet, anyway), but it sure makes the ride easier.
Still, it's hard not to ponder the omnipresence of the Grim Reaper when you see stuff like this:

Dude, you know how many Oriental massages and Vicodin you could buy with the Catholic Church's money? At least three refills, I bet.
Congrats to Manny, Papi, Jesus, and all the others.
Good luck keeping Martinez and Lowe for next season.
Screw Cabrera and Schilling...I never liked them anyway.
Cards...get some starting pitching. And figure out what the hell happened to your goddamned bats in the Series.
P.S. The Sox logo only stays up for a day.
"Oh slug-a-moon, oh slug-a-moon, grant thy faithful hedgehog's boon:"
The bright lights and sprawling suburbs of Houston typically obscure most celestial events, making urban skywatching a poor pursuit.
Tonight, however, offers an enticing exception. A total lunar eclipse will begin at 9:23 p.m. and last for more than an hour. This event, during which the moon falls in the Earth's shadow, is easily visible from even the most well-lit neighborhoods.
It's also relatively rare that such an eclipse is visible from North America and comes early in the evening, but after sunset, to make it accessible to families.
"Aw, Mom...can't we TiVo the sunset? Lost is on."
If even 1 in 100 families here in Houston actually manage to pry their asses off the couch to go look at tonight's eclipse, I'll run naked through East St. Louis with nothing but a Red Sox logo on my chest.
Fortunately, this is one of those challenges that's not easily quantifiable.
For darker skies, viewers can make the trip to the George Observatory in Brazos Bend State Park, about an hour's drive southwest of Houston.
The observatory's director, Barbara Wilson, suggested people arrive between 7 and 8 p.m. The entrance fee is $3 for adults, and children younger than 12 can enter for free. In addition to smaller telescopes and binoculars, the observatory will sell tickets, for a small fee, to peer at the eclipse through its larger 36-inch telescope.
Although the eclipse will be viewable from all parts of Houston, Wilson said darker skies at the observatory will enhance the experience. Not only will the colors on the surface of the eclipsed moon be more vibrant, she said, many more stars will appear after the moon darkens.
"Under a dark country sky," Wilson said, "the darkness is much more dramatic."
"'Cause it's so...dark, and all. You really can't get a feel for just how darking dark that darkness is. Did I mention the Darkness will be playing? And there'll be screenings of Pitch Black, Darkness Falls, and Near Dark (for the kids)?"
I knew, when I heard for the 4th time today that Pedro Martinez wasn' the "old" Pedro, that we might be in trouble. It's the "He hasn't missed a field goal all season" thing.
Boston wants this more. Can't say that I blame them, although - should St. Louis not repeat Boston's coming back from 0-3 to win it all and wouldn't that be awesome but I'm not holding my breath - now I too will have a reason to hate Bill Buckner. I mean, why couldn't he have given them the win in '86 and gotten it out of their system?
The Red Sox are just playing better. No excuses. The Cards' bats have gone ice cold in the Series, and their fielding and baserunning - especially tonight - are way below par. Combine that with Boston's pitching so far, and this stands an excellent chance of not even going back to Boston.
Maybe Ozzie can come out of retirement.
Another from the bad movie idea files:
Next up, Suicide Girls talked with Frank Darabont and the issue of the Sci-Fi Channel's remake of "The Thing" came up. Darabont quickly confirms "It's not a remake as much as it is a miniseries sequel to the great John Carpenter movie. It got reported in the trades as a remake but I would not want to remake a movie as good as John Carpenter's. But to do a loving sequel as a miniseries really does appeal to me. Then you're not screwing up somebody's great movie". The story is being hashed out right now by scribe Dave Johnson, and Darabont hopes it'll pick up right at the end of the Carpenter classic.
Darabont has apparently been making his living off of adapting other people's work for so long he's decided to step in and take over even without being asked. Worse, it sounds like he has no recollection of the ambiguity and dread that made the ending of Carpenter's The Thing so dramatic. Granted, I have no idea what he and Johnson (who may or not be one of the writers behind the overrated Jake 2.0) are planning, but odds are it would be some sort of Antarctic chase movie, ending up with a band of gutsy heroes making a last stand between the Thing and the rest of humanity.
This, of course, is totally unnecessary. The dire consequences of the alien's possible infiltration of human society were spelled out more effectively on MacReady's Commodore 64 than we'll ever get with whatever GPS-enabled, virtual reality AI crap Darabont and his crew come up with. The beauty of The Thing is in the way it creates such an effective atmosphere of fear and paranoia (the spider-walking head doesn't hurt either), ending in one of the better "question mark" moments ever made.
I've allowed myself to become complacent about the number of remakes and sequels being produced lately, mostly because I realize how pointless it is, but also because I can callously chuckle to myself when some idiot decides they want to take a stab at making a TJ Hooker movie. A wannabe like Darabont taking his rusty cleaver to one of my favorite movies of all time for the fer chrissakes Sci-Fi Channel is no less than I deserve.
The final entry in the 2004 Texas Tuesdays run focuses on Charlie Steinholm. Steinholm is the senior Texas Democrat in Cognress, and is facing a challenge from DeLay running dog Randy Neugebauer.
I was also remiss in not linking last week, when the site covered Max Sandlin, who hails from the opposite end of the state to Steinholm. Sandlin's running in (Congressional District 1).
As holiday movies go, nothing beats the stuff they roll out around Halloween. Most, thematically, aren't even about the holiday itself (never mind the Halloween movies) but are simply horror films trotted out during the one time of year it's considered socially acceptable to do so. I used to look forward every year (in those hoary pre-VCR days of my youth) to seeing Night of the Living Dead and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is still my favorite Peanuts special, and there would usually be a marathon of bad Japanese monster films airing somewhere.
People love Christmas movies, which makes no sense to me. Having been constricted by seventy years of traditional X-mas plotlines, Christmas films have to continually reassert the joys of loving your fellow man and acting unselfishly, which may be a fine way to live your life, but it really makes for boring cinema. The statement, "King Kong vs. Godzilla rocks and is ten times better than It's a Wonderful Life, which sucks," is scientifically provable. I'd show you the formula, but I have to head out back and set up some traps for these wolves that apparently want to eat me (look under "Television Ads").
Meanwhile, chew on these Halloween-related movie announcements.
First, the Landmark River Oaks will be airing Dan O'Bannon's 1985 masterpiece, Return of the Living Dead, at midnight October 29th and 30th. There will be a costume contest Saturday night, though - as the press release informed me - no actual zombies will be admitted, for safety reasons.
I haven't seen Return on the big screen since high school, and then on a group outing where I spent half the movie trying my patented adolescent moves on some unfortunate girl.
Then we all got tickets for drag racing. Woot.
Anyway, it's a great film with plenty of gore (integral to the plot) and lots of naked Linnea Quigley (even more integral to the plot). See it with someone you love who hopefully already returns your affections.
Second, the Alamo Draft House at West Oaks will be playing their 100 Best Kills showcase again this year on Halloween. No plots, no setup, just 100 death scenes. Plus beer and nachos.
The ones from Riki-O are pretty cool. I'm going to try and make a comprehensive list, assuming I can still use a pen after #50 or so.
It's somebody you've never heard of:
Warner Bros. Pictures announced today that Brandon Routh, a 25-year-old native of Iowa with television and film acting experience, has been cast as The Man of Steel in the Studio's upcoming Superman epic, to be directed by Bryan Singer. The announcement was made today by Jeff Robinov, President of Production for Warner Bros. Pictures.
The untitled Superman movie is expected to begin principal photography in Australia early next year for release in summer, 2006. It is produced by Jon Peters, Bryan Singer and Gilbert Adler from a screenplay by Michael Dougherty & Dan Harris. No other casting has been announced.
Heh, Jon Peters. Jon "Can He Have a Gay Robot Sidekick?" Peters. Jon "I Want to Turn Sandman into a Matrix-Style Action Movie" Peters. If he has any significant input into this film, it's going to be a joke. Mark my words.
Singer commented on his choice of a star, saying "Contrary to speculation, it was always my absolute intention to hire an unknown for this role. Brandon is an extremely fine actor who possesses the physical qualifications of Clark Kent/Superman. But he also embodies the legacy and history of this character in a way that makes me certain he's the right choice."
I'm curious as to how Singer feels a guy who wasn't even born when the first Superman movie came out "embodies the legacy and history" of the character, but I suppose it'd be too much to expect him to shrug and say, "What are you gonna do? Tom Welling wanted points off the back end."
The BBC has the latest poop on Martin Luther and the Reformation:
Archaeologists in Germany say they may have found a lavatory where Martin Luther launched the Reformation of the Christian church in the 16th Century. The stone room is in a newly-unearthed annex to Luther's house in Wittenberg.
Luther is quoted as saying he was "in cloaca", or in the sewer, when he was inspired to argue that salvation is granted because of faith, not deeds.
The scholar suffered from constipation and spent many hours in contemplation on the toilet seat.
I've written before about the German obsession with the bowels, so I imagine the scientific community over there is - you'll forgive the expression - shitting themselves with delight.
The lavatory was built in the period 1516-17, according to Dr Martin Treu, a theologian and Luther expert based in Wittenberg.
"What we have found here is something very rare," he told BBC News Online, describing how most buildings preserved from that era tend to have served a grander function.
The toilet is in a niche set inside a room measuring nine by nine metres, which was discovered during the excavation of a garden in the grounds of Luther's house.
Dr Treu said there can be little doubt the toilet was used by Luther, the radical theologian who argued for a more "earthy Christianity", which regarded the entire human body - and not just the soul - as God's creation.
Not much I can add to that...
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to nail up a few theses of my own, in a matter of speaking.
We feel your pain, Genius...

That starting pitching will come back and bite you on the ass every time.
Of the two losses to the Red Sox this weekend, I think Saturday's was worse. Coming back from being down 7-2 and tieing the game back up was great, but only made the eventual fade at the end that much more disappointing.
I don't buy "The Curse" that much, but damned if the BoSox weren't doing their best to Buckner their way out of a W last night. To bad the Cards lost, because I can only imagine the self-flagellation that'd be going on in Beantown right now had those errors cost them the game. It'd be pretty funny, actually.
Not much laughing going on in St. Louis now, unfortunately.
Oh, and is anyone else sick of the goddamned celebrity watch at Fenway? We all know Stephen King is a Red Sox fan, as he's been bitching about them for decades. And I had to sit through Ben Affleck's godawful Christmas movie last week, I don't need him sliming up my TV as well.
And Tom Hanks can bite me as well.
These girls pose a grave and gathering threat...to your pants (thanks to TTTWLAM):
"You forgot Poland" never sounded so enticing.
(I hereby declare a moratorium on APCB baseball posts...until tomorrow night, at the earliest.)
What's going on with that Janis Joplin movie?
Renee Zellweger's planned Janis Joplin biopic has been shelved because producers can't decide on a script. The Cold Mountain star is still desperate to star as the tragic rock singer, but she admits the project isn't likely to roll in the near future. She says, "We talked about that a couple of years ago, developing a script and seeing if it is good enough. She is an exceptional woman and it needs to be an exceptional script to tell her story in a responsible way to have her story told the way it needs to be told. And that takes time. If I am ultimately the person to do it, then great."
No. Not great. I'm not even that big a Joplin fan, but I don't recall anyone ever describing her as "pixie-ish." Now if we can just get Joaquin Phoenix to pull out of the Johnny Cash movie.
Of course, the alternative to Zellweger might be more frightening:
A rival project, starring pop superstar Pink as Joplin, is also in the works.
Pink has a lot more in common, personality-wise, with Joplin. No word on whether she can do that other thing...what was it...oh, yeah: act.
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Jeez, it's been almost a month since we talked Bond rumors. What say you, Julian McMahon?
The big question remaining was whether or not he was indeed in talks with the James Bond franchise producers, Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson, about taking over the role of 007. “Unfortunately, it’s something I really can’t talk about,” McMahon said. However, he continued in a way that suggested he really was talking to somebody. “We’ll see what happens in regards to that but they’ve obviously got an extraordinary franchise which I’d be honored to be involved in at any point in time. We’ll see what happens.”
In other words, no news. As for what the Nip/Tuck star is working on now...
McMahon appears as Dr. Doom in the Fantastic Four, out this summer.
And if you think fanboys got irate about organic webshooters, wait 'til they start chiming in about Doom's organic armor.
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Finally, my review of The Grudge is up at Film Threat. I believe it's the first time I've used the word "pantsless" in one of my write-ups.
The Surviving Christmas review should be up on FT later this weekend, and possibly today on Blogcritics (if I feel like getting off my ass and posting it).
Cardinals, baby! I muttered to myself that Clemens was done in the 5th, and Pujols and Rolen did not disappoint.
Kudos to the Astros. They played a hell of a series and had a hell of a season. Y'all threw your best at us tonight, and - like the songs says - I guess your best wasn't good enough.
I watched the game at my local sports/drinking establishment, surrounded by roughly 200 Astros fans. I left the colors at home, though I suspect my fist pumping after Rolen's HR betrayed my true feelings. Doesn't matter, as we now have to face the BoSox, to whom I give the edge in starting pitching. 'mudge is right about one thing: it's on.
I don't even want to go into the arcane and obnoxious rituals I went through every time an Astro came up to bat after the 6th inning. Suffice to say, it worked (in my mind).
Whoof. Hell of a series. I, too, know the sting of acid reflux.
Nice to hear some Texans are able to get flu shots:
At least nine Texas lawmakers, including Sen. John Cornyn and House Majority Leader Tom DeLay, got quick and free flu shots from the Capitol's attending physician days after the government announced a vaccine shortage, aides confirmed Wednesday.
Rep. Nick Lampson, D-Beaumont, also was among those who got shots even though they didn't meet vaccine candidate criteria suggested by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
It's uncertain how many of Washington's 535 House and Senate members got shots. Last month, Capitol attending physician John Eisold issued a memo recommending lawmakers, their aides and other congressional workers get vaccinated because of their "numerous interactions ... with people from all over the world."
It's true, I hear the Men's Club in DC is bringing in new talent from Eastern and Central Europe every day.
Most of the shots were given on Oct. 6 and 7, days after the CDC announced flu shots would be reduced by nearly half this year. The CDC urged that vaccinations should be reserved for young children, those with chronic medical conditions, pregnant women, senior citizens, nursing home residents and health care workers. Neither Cornyn nor any of the Houston-area lawmakers who got the shot met those guidelines.
On Friday, several lawmakers sought to distance themselves from any perception of preferential treatment, particularly as older people stand in lines for shots around the country as elections approach.
This ought to be good...
Some lawmakers said they weren't aware of the vaccine shortage when they got the shot. Some said they qualified because of age or medical conditions. Others, including DeLay, a Republican from Sugar Land, believed getting the shot was justified.
"The House doctor recommended that members get the flu shot because they would be in a position of carrying or passing along the virus," DeLay spokesman Jonathan Grella said. "Particularly in this season of (campaign) visits to nursing homes and senior centers, we can't afford to take that risk."
The "meeting" issue is brought up again later in the article, and I think it's crap. Convince me that politicians ever interact with the great unwashed masses in the grocery store, or at the gas station, or in a fricking Denny's, and I'd have a little more sympathy. Meeting with the lobbyist from Glaxo Wellcome in a private room where any virii are probably going to get killed by cigar smoke doesn't count.
"But never mind that, Pete. Surely there's some angle that an undecided voter/moron like me can use to help them pick a presidential candidate, yes?"
President Bush, in an interview with Reuters, said he would not get a flu shot and did not think healthy lawmakers should either.
Democrat John Kerry issued a statement Wednesday criticizing Vice President Dick Cheney, Treasury Secretary John Snow and Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist for getting shots. Cheney, who has a heart condition, and Snow, who is 65, meet CDC guidelines.
Damn it. Guess you still can't decide.
And I wouldn't worry about Cheney. Every time someone brings up his heart conidition or age, I just remember Rhah's words to Taylor in Platoon:
Wrong? You ain't never been right, about nothing! And dig this you assholes, and dig it good. Barnes has been shot seven times and he ain't dead! Does that mean anything to you, huh? Barnes ain't meant to die! The only thing that can kill Barnes is Barnes!
The only thing that can kill Cheney is Cheney. I firmly believe that.
Horror movies are always good for demonstrating our occasionally incorrect behavior. Many times, the behavior in question is pretty clearly ill-advised, but the fact that performing such actions often results in the character's grisly (and occasionally inventive) death tends to acc-en-tu-ate the negative consequences a little more strenuously.
Most horror fans already devised their own list of no-no behaviors long before Scream came along and made self-referential horror films the bane of the '90s. Obviously, you don't have sex, or get drunk, or get separated from the group, or camp on unhallowed ground. You get the idea.
To this list, I'd like to add a few things I picked up from The Grudge, Takashi Shimizu's remake of his own earlier film, Ju-On. The premise of the film is that anytime someone dies in the grip of extreme rage, a curse is created that attaches itself to the place of death. This curse lingers and infects anyone who comes in contact with it. As it's a remake of a Japanese horror film, there's understandably less explicit sex and smart-aleckness, but it still managed to give me a few add-ons for my own list (minor spoilers follow):
1) Never work late. Two characters in the film are picked off specifically because they're the only ones left in their particular buildings after everyone else has left. Maybe this is more of a problem in Japan, where I understand people work longer hours than us lazy American, but it's definitely something to chew on for you young go-getters.
2) In fact, don't live in Japan at all. While rich in culture and history, the place is also infested with malign spirits and ghosts. If a police detective (like the one in the film) started talking to me about Japanese legends as if they were accepted fact, I think I'd be on the first plane back to Houston, where the only infestations I have to worry about are the six-legged kind. Which are easily squished.
3) After this movie and The Ring, I'm not sure why anybody in Japan ever watches a videotape. Japanese spirits have ably demonstrated their ability to disobey the laws of time and energy, why couldn't they use the VHS medium to continue their dirty work? Japan has always been at the forefront of technology innovations, and now I think I know why: to get rid of film entirely.
Dear Tony LaRussa,
STOP PITCHING TO BELTRAN!
Thank you,
Pete
P.S. Especially with 2 outs and nobody on.
UPDATE: Whew. That's better.
About time, Jimmy. Houston's bullpen really sacked up tonight, but I can imagine the sports talk shows tomorrow verbally burning Garner in effigy for bringing Miceli in when Oswalt was available. Morris wasn't awful, but Munro was, and that helped.
So...Game 7 tomorrow. Can't say I like our chances against Clemens, but after watching Boston win tonight (I got your daddy right here), anything's possible.
Legitimacy, of a sort, for fans of movies featuring guys in big rubber suits beating the crap out of each other:
He's attacked other monsters and terrorized Japan for decades. Now Godzilla is confronting academics who want to wrestle with his legacy.
The University of Kansas plans to pay homage to the giant lizard later this month, organizing a three-day scholarly conference for the 50th anniversary of his first film.
It's not just about celebrating campy creature features. Planners want to provoke discussion of globalization, Japanese pop culture and Japanese-American relations after World War II.
Ha ha, no. Planners really want to sit around the hotel bar and laugh at the fact that they received grant money to put on a freaking Godzilla conference.
"I would like people to take Godzilla more seriously," said Bill Tsutsui, a history professor at the University of Kansas and author of the book "Godzilla on My Mind," which discusses the history of the monster's movies.
The conference that begins Oct. 28 will offer speeches, panel discussions and free screenings of Godzilla films, including "Gojira," the Japanese movie that started Godzilla's career in November 1954.
Atop the movie theater will be an inflatable 28-foot Godzilla balloon. Items from Tsutsui's collection of Godzilla memorabilia will be on display in the university's main library.
Organizers anticipate problems stemming from conference attendees mistakenly stopping at one of the fine auto dealerships on the outskirts of town, many of which also sport large inflatble dinosaurs.
The notion of a serious Godzilla conference drew puzzled looks on campus.
"It's kind of odd," freshman Kathleen Schafer said. "I didn't think scholars would be interested."
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to hurry to my 'History of Rock and Roll' (University of Texas) midterm, then I'm off to the library to study for 'Feminist Cyborg Fiction' (UC Santa Cruz), 'The Films of Clint Eastwood' (Brown), and 'Music Video' (Northern Illinois)."
The franchise was widely known for its campy special effects. Godzilla films featured men in dinosaur suits stomping around miniature urban landscapes and some monster battles that, Tsutsui acknowledged in his book, seem more like professional wrestling matches.
When an American version of the first film was released in 1956 re-edited to include new scenes featuring Raymond Burr of "Perry Mason" fame the New York Times dismissed it as "cheap cinematic horror-stuff."
"It is true there were some bad, bad films produced, particularly in the late '60s and early '70s," said Igarashi, who plans to lecture at the conference on the 1964 movie "Godzilla vs. the Thing," in which Godzilla battles the giant moth, Mothra, and its offspring.
"However, the movie I talk about, which focuses on the struggle between a 164-foot tall, fire-breating lizard and an oversized, highly flammable insect, is rightfully considered a classic of the genre. No questions about the twin fairies, please."

That's playing like a $25 million a year guy. My favorite is this comment:
"I was kind of perplexed by it," Rodriguez said. "I don't know what I was trying to do. I know he was coming and I know that the line is mine. They said I could've run him over, but I went out of my way. Looking back at it, I probably should've just run him over."
If he charges like he swats, I don't think Arroyo - or anyone weighing more than 110 lbs - had anything to worry about.
"It was a big momentum changer," Rodriguez said. "I don't want those umpires to meet anymore because every time they meet, it goes against the Yankees."
Then quit screwing up. A-Hole is referring to the fact that the umpires had to convene to reverse the initial call ruling Rodriguez safe. Something that would've been unnecessary had he not tried to cheat. Seems pretty simple.
I don't know how you East Coasters do it, staying up until 4 AM (or however late Monday's game went) or so to watch this series. In any event, there's been some great baseball played these last few days in both series.
It seems that the Guardian had an idea to get British readers to e-mail voters in Clark County, Ohio in order to give their perspective on the coming election (hat tip to Sarah):
In the spirit of the Declaration of Independence's pledge to show "a decent respect to the opinions of mankind", we have come up with a unique way for non-Americans to express your views on the policies and candidates in this election to some of the people best placed to decide its outcome. It's not quite a vote, but it's a chance to influence how a very important vote will be cast. Or, at the very least, make a new penpal.
It works like this. By typing your email address into the box on this page, you will receive the name and address of a voter in Clark County, Ohio. You may not have heard of it, but it's one of the most marginal areas in one of the most marginal states: at the last election, just 324 votes separated Democrats from Republicans. It's a place where a change of mind among just a few voters could make a real difference.
Writing to a Clark County voter is a chance to explain how US policies effect you personally, and the rest of the world more generally, and who you hope they will send to the White House. It may even persuade someone to use their vote at all.
That can't be right. I don't remember that "respecting other peoples' opinions" horseshit in MY Declaration of Independence.
What a potential for disaster this was: sending e-mails to Americans in order to offer unsolicited advice on how to vote. Surely nobody would react poorly, would they?
Have you not noticed that Americans don't give two shits what Europeans think of us? Each email someone gets from some arrogant Brit telling us why to NOT vote for George Bush is going to backfire, you stupid, yellow-toothed pansies ... I don't give a rat's ass if our election is going to have an effect on your worthless little life. I really don't. If you want to have a meaningful election in your crappy little island full of shitty food and yellow teeth, then maybe you should try not to sell your sovereignty out to Brussels and Berlin, dipshit. Oh, yeah - and brush your goddamned teeth, you filthy animals.
Wading River, NY
Aha, an erudite critique of Britain's lack of fluoridation, coupled with a knowing analysis of reverse psychology: encouraging us to vote against Bush will actually make us vote for him. Unless this is what those crafty Brits want in the first place...damn you, perfidious Albion!
Consider this: stay out of American electoral politics. Unless you would like a company of US Navy Seals - Republican to a man - to descend upon the offices of the Guardian, bag the lot of you, and transport you to Guantanamo Bay, where you can share quarters with some lonely Taliban shepherd boys.
United States
He's not kidding, I saw that movie, and Charlie Sheen and Michael Biehn would be all over you like yellow on teeth.
KEEP YOUR FUCKIN' LIMEY HANDS OFF OUR ELECTION. HEY, SHITHEADS, REMEMBER THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR? REMEMBER THE WAR OF 1812? WE DIDN'T WANT YOU, OR YOUR POLITICS HERE, THAT'S WHY WE KICKED YOUR ASSES OUT. FOR THE 47% OF YOU WHO DON'T WANT PRESIDENT BUSH, I SAY THIS ... TOUGH SHIT!
PROUD AMERICAN VOTING FOR BUSH!
How can they forget the Revolutionary War? Every time someone in England has the temerity to voice an opinion regarding American politics, some moron over here has to remind them about it while conveniently forgetting the hated French were the ones who saved our bacon. Watch your comments in your local phở restaurant, my friends...the fall of Saigon (sorry, Ho Chi Minh City) was a lot more recent than 1776.
I'm a little disappointed no one's brought up how we "saved their asses in World War II" yet.
Real Americans aren't interested in your pansy-ass, tea-sipping opinions. If you want to save the world, begin with your own worthless corner of it.
Texas, USA
As Sarah pointed out on her blog, it sounds like we've got an Aggie here.
Must've been written right after that Utah loss.
Hey England, Scotland and Wales, Mind your own business. We don't need weenie-spined Limeys meddling in our presidental election. If it wasn't for America, you'd all be speaking German. And if America would have had a president, then, of the likes of Kerry, you'd all be goose-stepping around Buckingham Palace. YOU ARE NOT WANTED!! Whether you want to support either party. BUTT OUT!!!
United States
Thank you. My day is complete.
In all fairness, the responses actually claiming to be from Ohio were a good deal more civil. Let me give it a shot:
Dear Brits:
This was an interesting idea, but probably not the best approach to the impending presidential election. America, in case you hadn't noticed, has spent the last four years devolving from a (semi) respected global leader into a xenophobic clump of hooting spider monkeys. Your hearts are probably in the right place, even if your efforts smack of...dare I say...New World naiveté, but reasoned feedback to any helpful suggestions you may feel like offering will undoubtedly be drowned out in the roar of "flip flop" chants, Hummer engines, and Toby Keith songs.
Thanks for trying, though, and keep making TV shows for us to rip off. Honestly, between you and the Japanese, we won't have to come up with original entertainment concepts of our own for years.
Guten abend,
Bill O'Reilly
As promised, I've uploaded some pictures I took with my pathetic 3.2 megapixel digital camera at Minute Maid Park for Game 3 of the NLCS between the Astros and the Cardinals. Click a thumbnail for a larger image.
First, the cautious approach to stately Minute Maid Park:
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Click the link below for the rest:
The unbridled frenzy of activity that is batting practice:
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Didn't waste any time getting that banner up there, did they? And what the hell is a "wild card champion?"
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How could they let us see the Big Board?
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One of the strangest geological anomalies in all of baseball...Tal's Hill in center field:
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The Rocket warms up, may he rot in hell:
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Keeping a careful eye out for William Ligue and son:
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Eternal pixie Mary Lou Retton was one of the first pitch throwers (along with that Jeremy Wariner goofball from Baylor):
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A sellout crowd laments the fact they didn't buy tickets for Game 4, when Robert Earl Keen was singing the national anthem and not Andy Pettite's wife:
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"Please don't put me in...please don't put me in..."
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Javier Bracamonte selfishly keeps Edmonds' home run ball for himself:
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Jesus. He walked Berkman. Two strikes, and LaRussa had Isringhausen walk him. Maybe it wouldn't have made any difference. Maybe if Kline was healthy the Cards could've taken him down and brought Izzy in fresh to face Kent. Who knows?
Gotta give it up for the Astros. They've had an amazing run these last couple months and are now poised to make their first trip to the Series. That road goes through St. Louis, of course, but the Birds' bats haven't shown me anything these last three games. Without them, the weakness of the Cards' starting pitching is that much more apparent (Williams' one-hitter tonight aside).
Looking back on it, I have to blame The Wife. I didn't want to watch the game, seeing as how I've been bad luck to my team in both games I've attended and these last two I've watched on TV. But nooooo, she wanted to see it. Thanks, honey. Your punishment is living with my bitching for the next six months if St. Louis doesn't make it.
Oh, and fuck you, Fox. Those of us with satellite dishes in Houston weren't allowed to watch the last six innings of Boston's amazing win over New York to force Game 6. The scroll said we could switch to FX, but it seems Houston and St. Louis satellite subscribers were given the NLCS game on both stations. All they could tell me at KRIV (the Houston affiliate) was that there was "something between the network and the satellite providers," though Time Warner cable subscribers got to see both games.
Bleah.
For those who've asked: yes, I will root for Houston if they make the World Series. I'm a National League boy, and will be only too happy to cheer against the Yankees, should they end up representing the AL. Nothing against Boston, except we got thrown out of the Black Rose pub on our honeymoon, and I didn't think it was possible to get tossed from a bar in Beantown.
You've heard of it by now, and here's the link:
I don't usually say "watch the whole thing." But watch the whole thing.
Like me, you've probably been waiting for those helpful folks on the Christian Right to step up and tell you who to vote for. Well, wait no longer:
The Christian Coalition is distributing 30 million voter guides that use conservative catch-phrases such as "unrestricted abortion on demand" and "affirmative action programs that provide preferential treatment" in detailing the positions of the two presidential candidates.
The guides will be distributed nationally starting Thursday, handed out in churches, at shopping malls and at other public locations. The coalition has been producing the guides since 1992.
Roberta Combs, coalition president, said the guides were an attempt to educate voters and "I don't think the wording is loaded at all."
"You ass-ramming atheist," she reportedly muttered.
The kind of people who don't think the phrase "unrestricted abortion on demand" constitutes loaded wording are also the kind who actually believe that such a thing would ever exist in this country in the first place.
The description of the guides as "nonpartisan" was questioned by some political analysts and coalition critics.
"These guides are clearly partisan, almost always supporting the Republican campaign," said Barry Lynn, executive director of Americans United for the Separation of Church and State.
"They make the Republican look like a candidate for sainthood and the Democratic candidates look like they belong in the house of horrors wax museum," Lynn said.
In Kerry's case, a French house of horrors, no doubt.
President Bush campaign answered a questionnaire for the guides, while Democrat John Kerry campaign did not.
The question, "When did you finally decide to turn your back on Jesus, Senator Kerry?" was deemed particularly egregious.
The coalition vigorously defends its nonpartisan status, important to its ability to retain its federal tax exemption. The group and the Internal Revenue Service have sparred for years over whether the coalition's activities are too political for a tax-exempt group.
The guides reach an important portion of the electorate. About 25 percent of voters are white evangelicals, polling suggests, and almost four in 10 Republicans describe themselves as evangelicals.
If you ask me (which you didn't), all organized religions are too political to be tax-exempt. And that includes those crafty animists,
25% of voters are white evangelicals, eh? What were the other options?
- Black evangelicals
- White power
- Black rage
- White devil
- Blacula
- White, uptight, and outta sight
- Scream, Blacula, Scream
- Let That Be Your Last Battlefield
Given those, I'd probably have to go with "white devil." That should give me tax exempt status too, right?
I can’t say the outcome of yesterday’s Cards-Astros game surprised me. Clemens was more or less nails, even after giving up early HRs to Walker and Edmonds (more on that later), but especially after Sanders apparently pissed him off and Rolen got mouthy on second. For the record, I don’t think Clemens threw at Sanders. My sight line was pretty much behind Clemens to the left batter’s box, and the pitch didn’t go anywhere near Sanders.
Suppan settled down a little after Houston's 3-run first, but our bats never really woke up. I still don't know why anyone gives Carlos Beltran anything he can come close to hitting, but with every home run (seven in the post-season so far) my confidence grows that he won't be in an Astros uni next year.
And hopefully not in a Cubs uniform either. In fact, get that bastard out of the NL Central altogether.
Our seats were pretty great, considering: first row, second deck, right over the Astros bullpen in right center. This led to a humorous series of exchanges with Javier Bracamonte, one of Houston’s bullpen catcher. Edmonds’ homer in the 1st landed in the bullpen (dropping a good fifteen feet in front of me, meaning I didn’t have a shot, even were I inclined to risk severe head and neck trauma by leaning over the ridiculously low railing to try for it). Bracamonte scooped it up and, over the course of the next five innings, ignored my repeated pleas for him to throw it to me. Among the approaches I tried:
“Don’t give it to some kid, they’re too young to use eBay.”
“Edmonds wants me to have it.”
“Dude, my wife is really pissed about the money I dropped on these tickets. Give me something to take back to her.”
“I’ll put in a good word with Garner about getting you a starting spot.”
“You’re ten times the catcher Ausmus is.”
I even offered him $20, but he ended up giving it to some elderly black veteran in the section below us. That’s affirmative action for you.
The crowd was pretty nice to the Cardinals fans (all seven of us in section 255). There were the occasional cries of “Cardinals suck!” and the expected critiques of Ray King’s weight, but the only ugly incident was before the game, when some jagoff in a passing car made a comment equating Cardinals fans to homosexuals. I rubbed my nipples and gave him the finger, further demonstrating the high level to which intellectual discourse has risen in America.
I took a number of pictures, which I’ll post later (can’t find my data cable just now). I’ll be watching the game on TV with everyone else today, hoping we can do a better job against Oswalt. Or at least chase him before the 8th.
Time once again for a round-up of pointless leisure items yours truly requires in order to give his life meaning.
Left of the Dial: Dispatches from the '80s Underground (CD)
Some people like to joke about how crappy music was in the 1980s. These people are clueless boobs forever locked in a Duran Duran/Def Leppard-centered cosmos. The decade's best music wasn't on Top 40 radio or MTV (except maybe 120 Minutes), but on college stations and in obscure record stores. Admittedly, I have a fair number of the songs listed already, but who can pass up a compilation that includes gems like "Take the Skinheads Bowling" (CvB), "The Mercy Seat" (Nick Cave), and "Lake of Fire" (Meat Puppets)?
Halo 2 (Xbox)
The game's already been pirated, of course (just like Half Life 2 and Doom 3), but we of the dial-up connections (who like our version to be in English) will be buying it anyway. The original Halo was the reason I decided on the Xbox instead of the PS2, and I couldn't tell you the number of times I started playing at 10:30 PM and looked at my watch seemingly fifteen minutes later to discover six hours had passed.
The Wire: Season One (DVD)
To hell with the Star Wars DVDs. Regular readers of APCB know what a big fan I am of this show, which I consider the best thing on TV. Created by ex-Baltimore Sun crime reporter (and author of the book that inspired Homicide) David Simon and ex-Baltimore cop Ed Burns, the show is amazingly written and refreshingly complex. Unfortunately, I didn't get HBO until after the first season had aired, so now's my big chance.
The lovely and talented Rory Aronsky got the jump on me at Film Threat with his review for Team America: World Police (mine will probably up later this weekend), so I went ahead and put mine up at Blogcritics. Check it out here.
Crap, and here I thought I had at least two more months before I started thinking about the Academy Awards:
Sharp-tongued comedian Chris Rock has been chosen to host the 77th annual Academy Awards, the film industry's highest honors, next February, the producer of the show said on Thursday as he reached out to a younger generation of comics.
It will be the first time that Rock, a former "Saturday Night Live" cast member, will host the show watched by millions around the world. He will succeed veteran Oscar emcee Billy Crystal (news), who hosted the awards show earlier this year.
"I am a huge fan of Chris Rock," Oscar producer Gil Gates said in a statement. "He always makes me laugh and he always has something interesting to say. Chris represents the best of the new generation of comics."
If Cates really wanted the "best of the new generation of comics," he'd have hired David Cross or Patton Oswalt.
Forgive me, but I've never found Chris Rock funny. If his "angry black man" stand-up shtick consisted of anything remotely thoughtful or incisive, I'd think this was a good choice, but all the man does is stand up there and bellow. His last appearance, three years ago(?), was a flop-sweating disaster where he tried to berate the audience for their whiteness. If the Academy is such a den of elite Caucasian interests, don't accept their invitation to appear. Few people would argue that the Oscars haven't been very even-handed when it comes to minority vs. Anglo nominees, but agreeing to show up sort of takes the oomph out of any complaints you might make later on.
In an era of heightened sensitivity to indecency on the airwaves since Janet Jackson (news)'s breast-baring Super Bowl show last February, Rock might seem a bold choice given the earthy, often profane act he has popularized.
But his selection makes sense from the standpoint of attempts by producers and the Oscar-sponsoring Academy of Television Arts and Sciences to draw greater interest from younger viewers, especially the 18- to 49-year-old age group most prized by TV advertisers, experts said.
Here's your problem: the Oscar host really doesn't do that much. He/she has their opening bit and monologue, introduces the Best Picture nominees throughout the show and the "In Memoriam" segment, and that's about it. Your coveted 18-49 year-olds may tune in for the opening, but after that you've still got something like 6 1/2 hours left.
I don't remember Rock ever being a very effective social comic, but that's just me. The notion that the same person - who starred in such "indie" fare as Bad Company, Head of State, Osmosis Jones, and Lethal Weapon 4 - is somehow removed from Hollywood's mainstream is laughable, but that's not really what they want anyway (remember Letterman?). Hiring Rock allows Cates to argue he's got someone outside the establishment - unlike Billy Crystal, Steve Martin, or, uh, Whoopi Goldberg, while Rock gets...actually, I don't know what Rock gets out of this. Whatever "street" cred he possesses seems like it would sink like a stone after he mouths a few Bruce Vilanche softballs about Arnold Schwarzenegger and Mel Gibson.
And I'll watch the whole goddamned thing anyway, because I am le fool.
I can't take this late inning crap. Sure, the Cards won 6-4 and are now up 2 games to none over the Astros in the NLCS, but watching the game for me was what I imagine some people go through with horror movies.
I should confess something: I'm a baseball coward. In a dicey situation, say...Jeff Bagwell coming to bat in the top of the 6th with the bases loaded...the pitch will be thrown, and I'll close my eyes. The existence of the digital video recorder has only served to further enable my neurosis. During the season, I'll record games and watch them later, fast forwarding between pitches and through commercials, effectively editing a 3-hour game down to slightly more than an hour. Modern technology's a wonderful thing. Tonight, however, I found myself fast-forwarding through entire batters (as with the aforementioned 6th inning situation). I can put the FF on x4 speed and still see when something happens - then I'll stop - but the endless process of sitting through every glove and helmet adjustment between pitches was threatening to give me a heart attack, and so I succumbed to the DVR's siren call.
Worse, in the top of the 9th, with Beltran on base and Kent coming to bat, I paused the game and went to unload the dishwasher, knowing that, for better or worse, it'd be over when I finished. Either the Cards would hang on, or Kent and/or Ensberg would add some more runs, possibly tieing the game up.
As luck would have it, the Birds hung on to win. Astros manager Phil Garner made some more inexplicable moves, like pulling Munro and then taking out Wheeler in the 8th to put Gunga Dan Miceli in. Man did I perk up when he got out there. For opposing batters, seeing Miceli on the mound these days has to be like being the first Viking to enter a defenseless coastal hamlet. He's going to lay that fat breaking ball over the plate for them to pillage until he's inevitably yanked. Albert the Great was ready for it, and what a time for Rolen to finally come alive.
Back to Houston now. Garner better not pull Clemens early like he did against the Braves, 'cause both he and Oswalt are going to have to last until the 7th (at least) if they don't want the Cards to feast on their bullpen again.
And if you see a guy in a St. Louis t-shirt sitting in the first row, second deck, above right field Saturday, buy him a beer. Or, at least, don't dump yours on him.
I guess I'm gonna have to tell 'em,
That I got no cerebellum:
U.S. regulators have proposed nearly $1.2 million in indecency fines against Fox for its reality program "Married By America," the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) said Tuesday.
The FCC sought to fine 169 Fox television stations for violating decency standards when they aired an episode of the short-lived reality program, featuring scenes from Las Vegas bachelor and bachelorette parties.
The FCC said it proposed fining the stations $7,000 each for airing the episode on April 7, 2003 that showed sexually explicit and graphic scenes at a time when children were likely to be watching.
The agency voted 5-0 in favor of fining the stations after receiving 159 complaints. Not all Fox affiliates aired the show.
The FCC has been cracking down on television and radio stations for decency violations after singer Janet Jackson bared her breast during the televised Super Bowl game halftime show earlier this year.
159 whole complaints. 159 people were thick enough to watch something called Married by America - on FOX, no less - and then complain because it didn't feature candid home videos of groomsmen getting kicked in the crotch by the flower girl or the bride with her train tucked into her pantyhose. Or something. And so...rather than change the channel to Waltons reruns or simply turn the TV off and pick up the latest Chicken Soup for the Chump Ass Sucker with More Money than Brains' Soul, they complain to Michael Powell and company, who happily oblige by handing out a cool million in fines.
It's apparent now that the FCC is out for nothing less than the complete and utter elimination of free broadcast media. That can be the only explanation, right? Surely the FCC doesn't want something as asinine as returning our airwaves to those salad days of June Cleaver and the ethnic comedy stylings of Amos 'n Andy...does it? Can you broadcast obscene material in Morse? Howard Stern announced his move to satellite radio last week, thereby clearing out a key earner for the organization. Someone less lazy and/or more sober than me needs to check how much Time-Warner and Viacom stock reside in the portfolios of Powell, Abernathy, Copps, Martin, and Adelstein.
I get more than 159 visitors a day here. Do me a favor and send a complaint to the FCC about Seventh Heaven and Joan of Arcadia. I pointed out the "indecency" inherent in the disrespectful way the latter forces the Lord to dress like a goth, and complained about the "obscene" lack of Jessica Biel midriff-baring in the former.
Better yet, complain about the appalling lack of trash talk in last night's debate. Who wants a measured discussion of the issues with nary an, "You got SERVED, Bush!" or the President entering the auditorium to the strains of "Guess who's back? Dubya's back."
Cards win 10-7, but the Astros prove they have plenty of firepower. It came down to middle relief for Houston, as I (and everyone else) figured it would. If they can't get 7 or 8 decent innings out of their starters, they're going to continue to give up 6-run innings.
It was closer than I liked, especially at the end, when Lamb went yard and Biggo got the double. And for the love of Stan Musial, it's pronounced "Bi-jee-o," not "Bee-jee-o," guys. I keep waiting for someone to say Albert "Poo-joles."
Tomorrow sees the untested (in the playoffs, anyway) Pete Munro against the shaky Matt Morris. I predict another high scorer, and more shots of drunken St. Louis girls dancing in the stands, which is the sort of high quality sports journalism I expect in my baseball coverage.
Game 3 will be a good one: Clemens vs. Walker/Pujols/Rolen/Edmonds. I've got my tickets, baby.
And all it cost was my firstborn. Oh well, there'll be other kids, right honey?
The Year: 1988
The Place: Office of University of Texas newspaper The Daily Texan
The Person: Cartoonist Chris Ware
Pete: Hey, you draw Quimby Mouse, don't you? I love that strip.
Chris Ware: ...
Pete: So, you just started drawing here this year? How do you like it?
Chris Ware: ...
Pete: Uh, anyway, keep up the good work.
Chris Ware: ...
He may very well have been asleep. It was hard to tell with all that hair.
Stop the presses with Conversations with Famous People.
Metafilter has an article about "outreach" kits for churches wishing to construct their own Hell Houses this Halloween season. Hell Houses, as most of you know, are Christian-themed haunted houses that depict the stark horrors of modern society and dread repercussions of sinning against God. But with a message of, y'know, hope. There's a great documentary about the phenomenon (which started right here in Texas) floating around as well.
This is my favorite part of the article:
What issues are addressed by The Hell House Outreach Kit?
Our nation needs to know that much of what they are being fed by the liberal media and entertainment industries is lies and falsehoods. Hell House will allow your church or ministry to boldly proclaim the truth of the word of God.
Damn you, Brit Hume.
Tour Production:
Homosexuality — No one is born gay. Genesis 1:27 says that God created man in His own image. Homosexuality is sin and is not just an alternative lifestyle.
No one ever mentions Genesis 1:27.5, which says that God liked to let His hair down by heading down to Castro and hitting some bars on the odd weekend.
Abortion — It is not merely a surgical procedure or the removal of a mass of tissue. It is the taking of a human life!
Don't you get it?! Our exclamation points make it true!!!
Suicide — The solution to your problems and depression is not found through ending your life. Let Jesus carry you through those tough times and be the strength you are searching for.
Unless, of course, Jesus tells you to kill youself, then it's probably a good idea to do what he says. He's Jesus, after all.
Drunk Driving — The false highs and constant lows of alcohol are never more sobering than when you realize that you are a killer.
And even more sobering when you realize you just crashed into a bus full of fetuses.
Satanism — The occult is very powerful and not something to toy with. Jesus Christ possesses the only power greater than the kingdom of darkness.
"I thought dabbling in the black arts would be good for a laugh. How wrong I was."
Hell — Hell is not an eternal party place. It is the home of never-ending torment, anguish and permanent damnation and separation from God.
Wait a minute..."not an eternal party place?" That means I've been lied to by, uh, well, absolutely nothing, I guess.
Except maybe that goddamned liberal media.
Heaven – Heaven is the eternal reward for those whose names are written in the Book Of Life. It is a place of exquisite beauty crowned by the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ and His holy angels
Man. Hell actually sounds more entertaining.
Personally, I think the stage production sounds better:
Stage Production:
Domestic Abuse — A phenomenal surprise beginning to the production starts by including this scene. The home and family is a major target for the kingdom of hell and abuse is fuel on the fire for doing damage to marriages and relationships.
That paragraph gives me a headache, but I think it means that the God wants Daddy to beat Mommy like he would Satan. That's comforting.
Rave Scene — Youth culture often sees itself as wildly indestructible. The underground world of rave clubs and drug usage proves to be a deadly combination, and hell's demons rejoice.
You know, I wish Quincy was still on the air. I bet I would've loved the "Rave" episode.
Teen Suicide — The seemingly insurmountable stress and pressure of teen life is amplified by the dark shadows of Satan's schemes. Suicide is the result.
And if they commit suicide while playing Dungeons and Dragons at a rave, that's a trifecta, and Satan gets 10 to 1.
Mother's Womb Abortion — A young mother is miraculously given the opportunity to learn from her mistake upon being blessed with a visit by her aborted daughter at four different ages of life.
I hope one of the stages is "Aborted Daughter has Abortion." Wouldn't that create some kind of infinite temporal loop? I think I saw that on Star Trek once.
Catholic versions will have fathers visited by the potential offspring of every sperm they've spilled outside of procreative intercourse. It'll take considerably longer.
Drunk Driving – Four teenagers are out on a Friday night high, alive and buzzed after the prom. There's just one problem: this night ends with two that are dead and two more left to deal with their horrible guilt and shame — and hell's bad boys will make sure of that.
But in an inspirational twist, those two drunk drivers go on to become President and Vice-President of the United States of America.
Gay Wedding — The sacred institution of marriage between a man and a woman is further disgraced by the unholy union of a man and a… man, and Satan wouldn't have it any other way.
The hell with that...fast forward to Gay Honeymoon. That's where all the action is.
Hell — The eternal fury and fire of hell is portrayed as the hell-dwellers, gate keeper and Satan declare that every person there is destined to burn forever in constant pain and agony.
These kits only list for $299, so I'm skeptical about how much of Hell's "eternal fury and fire" will actually be portrayed. At best we can hope for a few Black Cat firecrackers and a smoke grenade.
Heaven — This particular heaven scene also has an angelic rescue which brings all the attention to glorious eternity. A wonderful connection also occurs between this scene and the abortion scene with a surprise reunion in heaven! Jesus explains restoration and gives everyone the chance to pray the prayer of salvation.
We get to see an angel get an abortion?
That tears it, I'm going to Hell House this year. I'm sure there are several being held in Houston (I hear Second Baptist and Abundant Life Christian Center have held them), I just need to find one. Who's with me? We can meet for drinks beforehand and bring big foam fingers declaring our deity to be #1.
Or #2, if you're Muslim.
Three weeks to go, and while all the candidates featured on Texas Tuesdays are worthy of your support, this is especially true of Rep. Nick Lampson. He's running in the new CD02 against circus judge Ted Poe, who's been laying the mud down pretty thick. Lampson's giving as good as he gets, but he could still use your help to get support in what is now a pretty conservative district.
These are good days to be a fan of movies that most decent, hard-working people would ritualistically set afire in a lame attempt to toady up to their distant, uncaring god.
Dark Horizons is reporting that principal photography starts this week on Land of the Living Dead, the latest installment in George A. Romero's opus of the undead, up in Toronto. I realize those of you who aren't fans of watching zombies chomp on the sweet, sweet brains of the living are probably wondering what the deal is. I mean, the last few years have been a feast of flesheaters: 28 Days Later, the Dawn of the Dead remake, House of the Dead, Dead and Breakfast, Resident Evil: Apocalypse, Shaun of the Dead...and those are just the English-language films. To all the complainers, please shut up and go back to your own dimension of cinematic myopia, where Ashley Judd is always solving crimes with Morgan Freeman, John Travolta continues to fool you into thinking he deserved a comeback in the first place, and someone actually felt the need to make a sequel to Baby Geniuses.
And it apears that Elvis will ride again:
The "Phantasm" legend himself that is directing legend Don Coscarelli talked about that rumoured potential sequel to his cult hit "Bubba Ho-Tep", which has been doing rather well on the DVD sales front, to MyMovies.Net.
"My sources say yes. Things are looking quite good. MGM was very happy with the results in the States, the UK's looking very solid, there's a lot of fan interest in it - and Bruce would love to play some more of the old hound dog! So there's a good chance we actually will make that film. There is no story (yet) so we're gonna try and cook up something good hard to say (when), but as soon as we can" .
No news on release dates yet, although Coscarelli has literally only come up with the title - "Bubba Nosferatu: Curse of the She Vampires".
I've been talking Bubba Ho-Tep up ever since The Thing that Walks Like a Man and I checked it out way back at an advance screening several years ago, so the fact that a sequel may be in the offing is good news. Hopefully Joe R. Lansdale will write this one as well.
And that's a funny title, but it'll never approach the heights of The Avenging Disco Godfather, Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things, Hell Comes to Frogtown, or (my personal favorite) Guinea Pig: Mermaid in a Manhole.
Kids, you can learn more about the fine series of Guinea Pig films, including Android of Notre Dame and He Never Dies! here.
So Houston finally wins an NLDS and will travel to St. Louis Wednesday to face the Cards for the pennant. Bummer.
Don't get me wrong. I'm happy Houston finally won a postseason series. Another loss and I'm afraid Biggio and Bagwell might've committed joint hara-kiri (even if both have played quite well thus far). I just liked St. Louis' chances against Atlanta's weak pitching and anemic offense. The 'stros likely won't be able to use Clemens or Oswalt until Game 3, which is something, and their middle relief is - to put it politely - craptastic. They're peaking at the right time, however. The Cards' starting pitching has been solid, but has the benefit of hiding behind a modern day Murderer's Row. I'd still take Clemens and Oswalt over Marquis and Carpenter, or Morris and Williams, any day.
Either way, it should be a hell of a series. I'm going to futilely scrounge for a playoff ticket now. Congrats, Astros.
Won't you take the time to help one of these poor unfortunates (via MacinFla)?
Since September 11, 2001, Americans and Canadians have come together as
never before in our generation. We have banded together to overcome
tremendous adversity. We have weathered direct attacks on our own soil, wars overseas, corporate/government scandal, layoffs, unemployment, stock price plunges, droughts, fires, mad cow, SARS, high gasoline prices, and a myriad of economic and physical disasters both great and small.
But now, we must come together once again to overcome possibly our greatest challenge yet. Hundreds of Professional Hockey players in our very own nation are going to be locked out, living at well below the seven-figure salary level.
And as if that weren't bad enough they could be deprived of their life-giving pay for several months, possibly longer, as a result of the coming lockout situation.
But you can help!
For only $20,835 a month, about $694.50 a day (that's less than the cost of a large screen projection TV) you can help an NHL player remain economically viable during his time of need. This contribution by no means solves the problem as it barely covers the annual minimum salary,but it's a start, and every little bit will help!
Although $700 may not seem like a lot of money to you, to a hockey player it could mean the difference between spending the lockout golfing in Florida or on a Mediterranean cruise. For you, seven hundred dollars is nothing more than a month's rent, half a mortgage payment, or a month of medical insurance, but to a hockey player, $700 will partially replace his daily salary.
Your commitment of less than $700 a day will enable a player to buy that home entertainment center, trade in the year-old Lexus for a new Ferrari, or enjoy a weekend in Rio.
HOW WILL I KNOW THAT I'M HELPING?
Each month, you will receive a complete financial report on the player you sponsor. Detailed information about his stocks, bonds, 401(k), real estate, and other investment holdings will be mailed to your home.
Plus, upon signing up for this program, you will receive an unsigned photo of the player lounging during the lockout on a beach somewhere in the Caribbean (for a signed photo, please include an additional $150). Put the photo on your refrigerator to remind you of other peoples'
suffering.
HOW WILL HE KNOW I'M HELPING?
Your NHL player will be told that he has a SPECIAL FRIEND who just wants to help in a time of need. Although the player won't know your name, he will be able to make collect calls to your home via a special operator in case additional funds are needed for unforeseen expenses.
YES, I WANT TO HELP!
I would like to sponsor a locked out NHL player.
My preference is (check below):
[ ] Forward
[ ] Defenseman
[ ] Goaltender
[ ] Entire team (Please call our 900 number to ask for the cost of a specific team - $10 per minute)
[ ] Jaromir Jagr (Higher cost: $32,000 per day) Please charge the account listed below $694.50 per day for the duration of the lockout. Please send me a picture of the player I have sponsored, along with an Jaromir Jagr 2001 Income Statement and my very own Bob Goodenow (Executive Director of the NHLPA player's Union) pin to wear proudly on my hat (include $80 for hat).
Your Name: _______________________
Credit Card Number: __________________
[ ] MasterCard [ ] Visa [ ] American Express [ ] Other
Signature: _______________________
Alternate card (when primary card exceeds its limit): __________________
[ ] MasterCard [ ] Visa [ ] American Express [ ] Other
Signature: _______________________
Dig deep, eh?
Missed Debate #2, so no pithy analysis from me here (The Wife's uncles all insisted Kerry got his ass handed to him, which didn't quite jibe with the coverage I saw on MSNBC and CNN, but what do those pinko networks know?). I'm pretty burned out, election-wise, to the point that whenever someone brings it up I tend to zone out to my happy place of free beer and video games. Sort of a media-generated thousand yard stare of political ennui.
Fortunately, there's always other news:
Teen singer and actress Hilary Duff has reportedly hit out at arch-rival Lindsay Lohan in a song on her latest album. The Lizzie McGuire blonde, 17, has been enemies with the 18-year-old redhead since they both discovered they were dating pop heart-throb Aaron Carter at the same time last year. In Duff's eponymous second album, the singer's track "Haters" is aimed at the Mean Girls actress, according to gossip site The Scoop. One insider says, "Hilary thinks that Lindsay has been directing negativity at her for too long."
Maybe I'm missing something, but shouldn't these bimbos be saving their anger for the guy who dogged them both at the same time? The possibility of a Lohan-Duff catfight at the Nickelodeon Awards must be too tantalizing for anyone to point this out, but I just find it a little hard to believe Carter - Unstoppable Sex Machine or not - doesn't get a little more flak for the situation. These feelings are, of course, tempered by resentment at the realization that I could never have gotten away with something similar.
Next, another misguided lawsuit:
Three of Hollywood director Richard Linklater's ex-classmates are suing Universal Studios, after enduring jokes over characters based on them in Dazed And Confused. Richard Floyd, Andy Slater and Bobby Wooderson claim Linklater never asked them if he could use their surnames for characters in the cult film. The men say they have been viewed in a different light by neighbors and friends ever since the 1993 movie, about a group of alcohol and drug-consuming students on the last day of school in 1976, was released. Slater's lawyer Ernest Freeman says people assume his client takes illegal narcotics because of the marijuana and LSD-loving character, played by Rory Cochrane, in Dazed and Confused. And Floyd, who now works at a car showroom in Huntsville, Texas, says, "We had fun in high school, but there is nothing true about that movie. Yet I am having to deal with it all the time."
Deal with what? Being associated with one of the coolest characters in a great film? Is the connection hampering your upward mobility at a freaking Huntsville car dealership? Afraid your buddies at the penitentiary will make jokes?
Of course they're "viewed in a different light." Their friends and neighbors used to think they were boring, middle-aged dorks, now they allow for the possibility that this may not always have been the case. If this lawsuit had a chance at succeeding, it would have to have been filed by people with names like O'Bannion, Clint, and Darla.
Finally, Eminem is as cutting edge as ever:
Eminem's hilarious new video features the rapper poking fun at Madonna, Michael Jackson, Pee Wee Herman and MC Hammer. The fun-loving rapper's new video "Just Lose It" features Paris Hilton, Eminem's 8 Mile co-star Mekhi Phifer, Erik Estrada and Bad Santa star Tony Cox. In one hilarious scene, Eminem, as Jackson, dashes into the toilet featured in the opening scenes of 8 Mile in an attempt to douse the fire in his hair - after an onstage pyrotechnics accident with Madonna. When the Jackson character comes face to face with the real Eminem, the rapper vomits all over him. Poking more fun at Jackson, Eminem, playing the pop superstar, accidentally knocks off his own nose during a disco scene and has to scramble around on the floor looking for it.
Wow, that's pretty edgy. No confirmation yet on rumors that Slim Shady's next video will feature his "in your face" takes on John Tesh and the movie Gigli.
If you ever have occasion to travel to New York in October, I highly recommend it. The weather is great, the fall foliage is just starting to turn, and I can't think of anyplace else where you can still spot the elusive Members Only jacket in significant numbers.
Some of you may find yourself attending a family gathering of some sort, perhaps a wedding. And having spend the better part of the afternoon/evening at said ceremony and the reception, you may find yourself inquiring among the locals at a bar about the outcome of the day's earlier baseball games. The correct response to their bellowed chorus of "Yankees!" (or, more correctly, "Yan-KEES!") is not, "Fuck the Yankees, what about the Astros game?"
Trust me on this.
For those not fortunate enough to reside in the great state of Texas, this Saturday is Texas-OU weekend, when the Longhorns and the Sooners meet up in Dallas for the annual Red River Shoot-Out, where they will be surrounded by thousands upon thousands of drunken boobs starting fights, setting things on fire, and generally behaving like complete idiots.
I miss college.
Much is at stake for both teams this year, as each are ranked in the top 5 (OU at #2, Texas at #5) and could use a victory on Saturday as a springboard to a run at a national championship (given the sorry state of the Big 12 North, I'm not too worried about Texas or OU winning the conference championship).
There's a lot at stake for Texas coach Mack Brown as well, who - should the Horns lose - would become just the third coach in UT history to lose to Oklahoma five years in a row. Frankly, if you cough up that many consecutive losses to your biggest rival, I think you've gotta go.
It isn't just OU, the Horns have been dismal under Brown in bowl games and against top 10 teams. He's had great recruiting classes, which ultimately mean nothing when you go 10-2 and end up in the Holiday Bowl. Again.
10-2, eh? Probably sounds like I shouldn't be complaining (especially to you Aggies), but there's no reason to accept an 0-fer in five games against Oklahoma. Stoops is a good coach, but not one of the all-time greats, and there's no excuse for the weird mind control powers he has over Brown. This game looks to be more evenly matched than recent years (meaning if we lose by less than 24 I should probably count my blessings), and with any luck, Texas can pull out a win.
Normally, we head over to a friend's house for a BBQ. Said friend also happens to be a rabid OU fan, which has made recent games (especially the one where I had to wear OU decals on my face) somewhat excruciating. This year, however, I will be about as far from anything Texas as you can get: New York. We're headed to Lawn Guy-land for a wedding, and I'll be scouting tomorrow for a sports bar within stumbling/taxi distance from the church where I can watch the game in my suit and UT baseball cap.
This also means APCB will be on hiatus until Monday. Feel free to check out the fine blogs over there on the right, and have a good weekend.
Go Cards. Hook 'em Horns.
REMINDER: Still taking bio submissions (see below). I'll accept them in the comments section or via e-mail (general_buck_vh@yahoo.com) through Sunday, and then I'll start putting the thing together. And thanks to everyone who's contributed so far.
I, for one, think it's high time the gay community had a cartoon-based live-action motion picture to call it's own:
Fox 2000 has selected John Woo to direct and produce "He-Man," a live-action pic based on the characters in Mattel's "Masters of the Universe" line of action figures. Adam Rifkin ("Zoom's Academy") will adapt the screenplay according to Variety.
The characters of this universe are best known in the early 80's synidcated cartoon series which was successful enough to lead to a spin-off entitled "She-Ra" (I kinda preferred her show as well myself). The property previously was done in live action in the 1987 movie "Masters of the Universe" with Dolph Lundgren as He-Man and Frank Langella as Skeletor.
According to "Masters of the Universe" lore, He-Man began life as Prince Adam, the hybrid of an Earthling and an Eternian. At the age of 18, he was taken to Castle Grayskull, where Adam received super powers. He-Man has a sidekick in the form of a tiger, Battle Cat, and a deadly enemy, Skeletor.
Fox decided the proposed alternative, Girlie-Man (starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Rupert Everett), probably wouldn't have the same drawing power.
And that's pretty shoddy "lore." He was taken to Castle Grayskull and "received" superpowers? I thought what happened was Mattel started creating a line of Conan the Barbarian action figures, then either decided Conan the Cimmerian wasn't be best role model for kids or ran into rights issues (I've heard both), and so converted the toy line into the "Masters of the Universe." In what was truly a prescient movie, Mattel got together with Filmation to create a cartoon based on the existing toy line. Using a handful of voice actors and the same 12 Rotoscoped shots for every character, He-Man and the Masters of the Universe ran for an inexplicable 130 episodes, in addition to spawning the aforementioned spin-off series and live-action movie.
In case I was too obtuse, I never really cared for He-Man. Everything about the show rubbed me the wrong way (even as I was watching things like The Transformers and Galaxy Rangers): the ridiculous physiques, the stupid character names, the endlessly recycled footage, and the fact that Prince Adam didn't wear a goddamned mask to even attempt to hide the fact he was He-Man. Kids forgive a lot, but you've got to throw them a bone and put some spectacles on the guy or something. It works for Clark Kent.
The saddest part of all this is the final realization that John Woo isn't going to be the big American action director of the future, as was heralded around the time lousy films like Hard Target and Broken Arrow were putting domestic audiences to sleep. Maybe the guy really does needs Chow-Yun Fat and/or Tony Leung in every film.
And even they wouldn't have helped Windtalkers or Paycheck.
I haven't bothered to go out and check the spin from tonight's debate, but I imagine most polls will call it a draw. Edwards was a lot less polished than I think most people were expecting, while Cheney was at his glib best, though it's hard to make an objective call on that conisdering the absolute disaster of a performance he had to follow.
The VP's biggest points were in the beginning, where he was able to sound solemn and learned even while blatantly lying about his own comments concerning Iraq and 9-11 and ducking the question about Iran. Edwards didn't do much beyond offer generalities, apparently hoping the "American people" he kept invoking would see through the Veep's blurring the 90% question by talking about Iraqi forces, especially when Edwards specifically said "coalition forces." Cheney scored biggest with his comment about how he'd never met Edwards before, which admittedly seems odd. I sympathize with Edwards, who got 30 to 90 seconds to wade through the VP's falsehoods and dubious statistics, but - to be fair - he let a lot of hanging curveballs float right by him.
The high point for Edwards was his response to Cheney's attack on his record, noting Congressman Cheney had opposed (among others) Head Start, the plastic gun ban, and Meals on Wheels, and Cheney didn't bother to respond. Edwards' closing statement was also much better: a message of hope for the future as opposed to more Administration scare-mongering.
Edge to Edwards, though not as decisive as Kerry.
UPDATE: Typical. Cheney apparently lied about never meeting Edwards too.
Heard about that NHL lockout? No? You're not the only ones:
Teams began canceling regular-season games this week, after the league granted permission to release arena dates on a 30-day rolling basis. But in terms of actual effect felt so far, only a week's worth of training camp sessions and a handful of meaningless exhibition games are all that have formally gone by the boards. ... Of course meaningless is something owners and players should soon be well-acquainted with as this dispute starts to eat into real games.
A league that was barely on the American radar screen in the first place has all but completely fallen off only a week into the lockout.
"Barely on the radar" is being mighty generous to markets like Houston, which has a decent AHL team, but otherwise couldn't care less about hockey. Before you know it, AHL (and ECHL) teams are going to be the only option for actual fans Real Soon Now.
Across North America, hockey writers are being reassigned to NFL games, Yankee and Red Sox pennant runs and college football games. Some are being asked to use up vacation time accrued during a long playoff run. Many major newspapers, even those in so-called traditional hockey markets, have allocated only a few lines of wire copy to the lockout and the sport in general. What will the coverage look like in February? March?
In February, they'll still be talking about the Super Bowl and the halftime show which, if present trends continue, will feature the Smurfs and Pat Boone as Gargamel. In March, the NCAA tourney will occupy the lion's share of the sports media's attention (along with spring training). With the exception of big hockey markets like Canada, the Northeast, and Upper Midwest, no one's going to care.
And if the Red Sox win the World Series, the Northeast will still be recovering from region-wide rioting and the ritual despoiling of Babe Ruth's grave.
The few hockey stories that will be told will come from American Hockey League rinks, NCAA campuses and the major junior leagues. There are compelling stories to be sure, stories that deserve to be told. That they have little or nothing to do with the NHL makes them somehow more intriguing.
Some NHL teams are planning to have their AHL teams play games in their buildings -- although in the case of the Chicago Blackhawks it won't be difficult for the few fans left to identify the players, given that last year's NHL squad is essentially the same team that will occupy the Norfolk dressing room this season.
It also doesn't hurt that the Blackhawks haven't been an NHL team in years. Of course, the 'Hawks appear to be one of the only teams whose web page lacks a statement regarding the lockout. Here's looking at you, Bill Wirtz.
Meanwhile, the regular season supposedly starts next week. The owners demand a salary cap, which the players refuse to consider. Players do have one other option, but one that doesn't appear to be very viable at this time:
On the ice, the Original Stars Hockey League, an upstart, four-on-four barn-storming league composed of locked-out players, was rumored to have shut down operations after a handful of exhibition games, which were hammered in the media for small crowds and sloppy play. But an announcement on league letterhead turned out to be a hoax. Instead, commissioner Grant Ledyard said Thursday that Dallas Stars Marty Turco and Brenden Morrow would join the six-team league when it starts its regular schedule on Oct. 7 in Halifax, Nova Scotia.
Then there's the curious notion of players who will not stand for a salary cap that would still see them paid an average of $1.3 million per season playing for a portion of the gate from a crowd of 3,000 in towns like Barrie and Sarnia.
Shit, 3,000 is still a good crowd to teams like Chicago and Carolina.
It'd be nice to have a clear point in time to which we could point and say, "If only," but both sides in this debacle have been screwing up pretty conistently since the last lockout in 1994. Players have been demanding higher and higher salaries and the owners have been paying them (player costs take up 75% of revenues), while the NHL continued to expand into markets that weren't exactly clamoring for a hockey franchise in the first place. At the same time, the league was unable to come up with a plan to effectively market their existing teams, resulting in the worst Stanley Cup TV ratings of all time. How supportive do you think fans in new markets like Nashville are going to be after several mediocre seasons followed by a year (or two) long suspension of play? I hope they didn't take their names off the waiting list for Titans season tickets.
I'm an intermittent major league hockey fan, meaning I watch a couple games a year, time (and screeching infants) permitting. I've always (since I started following the game in the early '80s) rooted for the Red Wings, and I enjoy trading barbs with my friends who support Colorado. I've only been to one NHL game (Rangers vs. Capitals), however, and that because a friend had an extra ticket he didn't charge me for. The NHL priced me out long ago, which is why it's just as well the Aeros are such a good deal. Sure, the hockey's not that great, but the crowds here are fun, and the team sure as hell seems to care about the fans more.
I won't miss the NHL - not while football season is in full swing and the Cards are in the playoffs (and having beaten L.A. 8-3 today to take Game 1 of their series) - and I'm afraid most other sports fans won't as well.
Coming down to the wire on Texas Tuesdays, we've got Chet Edwards, running in the redistricted 17th Congressional District. The site has an introduction to the candidate, as well as a Q&A conducted by Jake Gilbreath, candidate for State Representative.
So, how upset are teenage boys these days at that "Don't Tell Me" song by Avril Lavigne? I had the misfortune of hearing it this weekend, and while I was moved by her power chord empowerment message, I've got to think that most high school guys are less than pleased with the resultant effect on the female population.
Don't think that your charm
And the fact that your arm
Is now around my neck,
Will get you in my pants
I'll have to kick your ass
And make you never forget
Buck up, little campers. That's what your dad's old Playboys are for.
Avril's one of the current Clear Channel darlings, which is why I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for a counterpoint from the likes of L'il Kim. Adolescent males who aren't at the top of the food chain from a reproductive perspective (most of them) need all the help they can get, but it's looking more and more like we're going to have a repeat of the dreaded Barren Backseat Crisis of '87, when girls across the country took their make-out cues from the Georgia Satellties' "Keep Your Hands to Yourself" and nary a third base was stolen for months.
REMINDER: I'm taking submissions for my all-important blog bio page (see below). There's still time for you to help me avoid doing any work on it myself.
Sounds like we've got the makings of a joke here:
Poland may reduce its commitment of forces to the war in Iraq by 40 percent by January 2005 and have all its troops out by the end of that year, Polish officials said Monday.
Polish President Aleksander Kwasnieswski said a withdrawal is in the discussion stage but could not be finalized until after Iraqi elections scheduled for January.
...
Currently, Poland has 2,500 troops committed to Operation Iraqi Freedom, but would reduce that number to 1,500 January 2005, the spokesman said, and the remaining troops would leave Iraq by December 2005.
Q: What did the Polish say to George W. Bush?
A: Hey, even we're not dumb enough to stay in Iraq.
I need a bio page.
I could write one myself, I suppose. Doubtless it would be dry, self-deprecating, and loaded with inaccuracies. Just like everybody else's, and I'd like to avoid that. Plus, I'm lazy. And I've had just enough to drink that it sounds to me like adding a bio to APCB is a good idea, but I lack the motivation to do it myself.
That's where you come in.
You don't have to know me - hell, you don't even have to have met me - but don't let that stop you from sending in facts, anecdotes, and personal data for me to include. Make it as (unlikely) glowing and ebullient or (more likely) as slanderous and profane as you like. Doesn't matter. I'll put it up there. Respond in the comments or e-mail me at general_buck_vh@yahoo.com.
In fact, if enough people send stuff in, I won't have to contribute anything at all.
No pics, however. I've got that covered.
Confession Time means never having to say you're sorry.
Generally, I don't cry at movies. It's difficult to pinpoint one reason for this, but I can narrow it down some. For starters, I was raised on a healthy diet of cartoons and monster movies, the latter necessitating the occasional intervention from my parents to assure me that Rodan did not, in fact, live in the mountain overlooking Salt Lake City. It was similarly impressed upon me at a young age that movies, cartoon, and most TV shows weren't real. I think the intention was to make sure I didn't emulate the gremlin from "Falling Hare" and whack someone with a pipe wrench, but it also meant I didn't get too emotionally entangled in the doings of cartoon characters.
For example, my mother says was seriously worried about me when I didn't cry at the death of Bambi's mother. We went to the theater with a dozen or so other kids, and I was apparently the only one not bawling at that scene. If questioned, I could've responsed that I'd seen Daffy Duck, Tom, Yosemite Sam, and Sylvester the Cat killed dozens of times, and that if any of those deaths were going to resonate with me, it would've been Daffy's.
The same held for most movies. This must've been when the bugaboo of TV violence started rearing up, which might explain my parents' zealous efforts to keep me from taking anything I saw in film too seriously. I think the only childhood movie I saw that brought on the waterworks was Disney's Robin Hood (seen at the tender age of 6), and I couldn't begin to explain that one.
I'm not made of stone, however. Even as I matured into the devil-may-care bon vivant you see before you today, I retained my humanity. I may not shed tears in the theater to the extent that many people do (like my sister, who - swear to god - cried during A Bug's Life...and she was 23), but it still happens. To prove this, I present you with a list of movies that have moved your stoic narrator to tears in the course of his short life.
Robin Hood - Disney version. Still don't know why, but it may have been out of fear. This would go a long way towards explaining why I'm not into furries.
King Kong vs. Godzilla - No way did that hairy piece of crap get the better of the Big G. No way. You're lying. Why do you lie like that?
Shane - Come back, Shane! And kill jack Palance some more!
Where the Red Fern Grows - Oh, I'm sure all of you tough guys held it in for this one. My elementary school has a summer movie program where, in an ingenius effort to get kids out of the house, they sponsored a movie screening every Wednesday. Every year, for four years, they showed this. Sadistic bastards.
Old Yeller - See above. I went through a long period of time where I dreaded seeing a dog appear in a movie. I still don't understand the rationale behind producing movies specifically designed to make children cry.
I guess I should be grateful I never watched Sounder.
The Pride of the Yankees - And I hate the Yankees.
Superman - Of course, after all my talk about how jaded I was about cinematic realism, the scene where Superman resurrects Lois by flying at super speed to reverse the Earth's orbit and turn back time gets to me.
Hey, I never said I was a smart kid.
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan - In my defense, I was 13. I saw it with my dad, who was equally moved, I can assure you.
Nerds.
A Midnight Clear - I've got no excuse for this one. Still one of my favorites.
Glory - Obviously, any movies seen after adolescence don't elicit actual tears in the male of the species, but that final scene had me doing the whole, "Got something in my eye" thing.
Titanic - Let me finish...I was crying, but they were tears of joy following Leo as he slipped into the icy depths.
Miracle - Anyone who reads this blog knows how I feel about the Miracle on Ice. I still get misty eyed when I watch my DVD of the HBO documentary, for crying out loud.
I realize I've sidestepped some of the more nototious tearjerkers. Most, to be perfectly honest, are stereotypical chick flicks that would inspire a reaction other than contempt if they weren't so shamefully manipulative. I'm looking at you, Beaches, Steel Magnolias, and Fried Green Tomatoes. I also managed to macho my way through Field of Dreams (Kevin Costner makes me itch), Rudy (any true University of Texas fan hates Notre Dame), and Brian's Song (seen far too late in life).
So now you know the terrible truth. Feel free to share your own shameful displays of emotion in the comments.
Capsulized here for the reader on-the-go:
I Heart Huckabees - Meh.
Shark Tale - Bleah.
Cash in your chips now, everyone who bet on Patty in the "Who's the gay Simpsons character" contest:
Hit cartoon series The Simpsons is pushing for gay marriage rights in America with a shocking episode featuring chain-smoking twin Patty wedding another woman. Animated father Homer is ordained as a minister and marries Marge's sister to her dream woman in the eagerly-awaited show, which criticizes American President George W Bush's refusal to allow homosexual marriage.
For those of you playing at home, Patty pays off 5 to 1.
Bush was brutal. I think the last time I've spent so much time cringing at another person speaking was when Clayton Williams was running for governor of Texas. That the leader of the free world is unable to articulate his position in an intelligible manner or veer off script without stammering still amazes me. Kerry - who I was never a big fan of in the first place - wins round one. He looked better, sounded better, and presented himself and his positions much more adeptly. Bush's message centered on what "hard work" he's been doing and ran more along the lines of, "Just give me four more years and I promise I'll fix all of this."
And nothing asserts your manhood like bending over backwards to kiss China's ass with regards to the North Korea question.
This was the foreign policy debate, the one Bush was supposed to perform best in, and he dropped the ball. I honestly can't see him making up any ground when the subject shifts to unemployment and health care.
Think I'm myopic? Fine. What about everyone else?
CNN: Kerry 78% Bush 18%
MSNBC: Kerry 70% Bush 30%
BBC: Kerry 88% Bush 7%
ABC News: Kerry 45% Bush 36%
CBS News: Kerry 91% Bush 8%
USA Today: Kerry 53% Bush 37%
Wall Street Journal: Kerry 73% Bush 22%
Time Magazine: Kerry 66% Bush 32%
Houston Chronicle: Kerry 86% Bush 13%
Goddamed liberal media.
Fox News has no poll, for some reason.