I'm Interested In Their Reaction to My Performance of the Monkey Dance on the Video . . .

I've had pretty much every weekend for the past month and a half booked solid, and the same holds true up through the second week in June. While it's nice to have stuff to do, I'm looking forward to being able to just being lazy for a weekend. At least wedding season is over for me; there's still one more couple from my class getting married in May, but since they're flying off to Virginia for the ceremony, I don't really feel compelled to attend. Anyway, this busy schedule has kept me going so much that I have little time for blogging about the things I'm doing, but I'll be in big trouble with a certain Cap'n if I don't discuss a certain event I attended last Saturday.

The event in question was Cap'n Disaster's wedding. She had asked me to be the D.J. at the reception (a task which she assured me only required me to press play on a CD player), and later added the duty of introducing the newlyweds to the crowd to the task list. Then, at 10:00 AM on Saturday I got a call from Cap'n Cluck on Cap'n Disaster's behalf, informing me that I now had the additional duty of running the music during the ceremony itself, as well as a request to arrive early and help set up the tents for the reception. Apparently, Cap'n D. had been under the misunderstanding that the tents would just pop right out of the boxes, ready to go, no assembly required. Thank heavens Cap'n Cluck was a bit more cautious and double-checked; between worthless instructions, easily breakable components, uncooperative ground, and constant winds which caused lift-off multiple times, it took us (us being Cap'n Cluck, the Best Man, and myself) over an hour to get both tents set up, although the second one went much faster than the first. I had only been there about 15 minutes when the nervous bride called me to see if I had gotten the message; when I told her I was there helping set up the tents, she asked "are they up yet?" When I started laughing hysterically, she said "Can you at least lie to me?" So I then told her that yes, the tents were all set up, took no time at all, and the three of us were just lazing about since we had nothing else to do. She thanked me for my dishonesty, and then hung up so she could finish getting ready. I have a feeling that if the tents hadn't been ready by the time she got to the chapel, her head might have exploded.

The ceremony itself was in the UNT chapel, which is a tiny, tiny place, designed to be "spiritual" without showing any overt signs of catering to a specific religion, which bugged Papa Lightbulb to no end. Cap'n D's friend Too was the Maid of Honor; she supplied the karaoke machine for the ceremony music and gave me a quick rundown of what Cap'n D wanted played when; we wound up sticking it in a little window alcove next to one of the video cameras, and I just hunched down next to it through the ceremony. Of course, with the impromptu nature, nobody had thought to arrange a signal for me to know when to start up the music, but meaningful looks from Papa L. (who performed the ceremony) took care of that.

One thing I like about Papa L.'s ceremonies (and I've had gotten to see several recently) is that his insistence on doing pre-wedding counseling gives him an insight into the couples relationship that he incorporates into the ceremony. It's a nice personalized touch which I enjoy.

Anyway, after the ceremony was over, I headed outside to see if I could figure out what sort of system they had set up for me to "D.J." with, only to discover that I had been replaced. I wasn't exactly heartbroken; after set-up and music duty during the ceremony, was more than willing to let someone else take over D.J. and announcing duty.

During the reception, Papa Lightbulb commented that we should start our own wedding planning business, since he did the ceremony, Scuba-girl and M.D. did the photography, Cap'n Cluck did the video, I did the music, and Magic Pants did her competitive perfectionist thing and took care of whatever needed to be done that hadn't been done. The wedding crew (minus Papa L.) stuck around until the end and helped with the clean-up as well before heading out to dinner. Meanwhile, the bride and groom headed off to prepare for their mystery honeymoon; Cap'n Disaster's mom planned their entire trip, and the only information she gave them was a weather forecast. It turned out that they got to go to a resort in the Poconos; she said the bulk of the honeymoon was wonderful, but on the way to the airport to come home they ran into traffic issues and missed their flight and were stuck in Newark for the night, but were luckily able to get onto a 6:15 flight on standby.

While it was a very nice ceremony, I regret that we weren’t able to implement Cap’n Cluck’s suggestion of having the wedding in the round, so that Cap’n Disaster would truly be the center of everything; or course, the complications arose when we agreed that she would need to be mounted on a spinning platform so that all wedding guests could share equally in the spectacle. Discussion of the spinning platform during the wedding crew’s post-wedding dinner led to many other ideas, like spotlights, fog machines, and the like. Great ideas, no? Maybe we should go into the wedding business after all . . .

How Time Flies

I just got reminded that Li'l Cujo G'ovich turns 9 today, which is kind of freaky; I mean, in a blink of an eye he'll be a teenager. I can still remember when he was just learning to talk and I spent a great deal of energy teaching him to chant "Mean mean Flunky" over and over again; Flunky countered by trying to get him to chant "Crazy crazy Todd" instead. Good times, good times.

Happy Birthday wishes to Li'l Cujo, who probably isn't allowed to read the blog anyway because, let's face it, haven't I done enough to warp his young mind already?

Written Word Wed. - You Can Lead a Mount to Freedom, but You Can't Make Him Think

I read the following book on the recommendation of Clan Flunky, both of whom have said that they were really looking forward to my review; of course, knowing that they were looking forward to it completely paralyzed me. Darn you people and your expectations!

The Mount by Carol Emshwiller

In the near future, man is longer lord of the Earth; instead, humanity has become little more than glorified pack mules and steeds for the diminutive alien race known as the Hoots. Charley (or Smiley as the Hoots have named him) is a young Seattle, bred for size and strength, chosen as the personal mount of the young Hoot known as His Excellent Excellency About-To-Be-The-Ruler-Of-Us-All. Content with his position, Charley’s world is shattered when a group of wild humans (led by the father he barely knew) attack his settlement in an effort to liberate their domesticated brethren. Charley (along with His Excellent Excellency) is whisked off to the humans’ mountain retreat, where he pines for the pampered life he left behind and rails against those he sees as traitors to his beloved Hoot masters. But it’s not long before life among the freedmen begins to wreak irrevocable changes upon both Charley and His Excellent Excellency, changes which will have a profound effect on both of their races.

The Mount leans towards the more philosophical side of SF, as it uses Charley’s experiences to examine the idea that people can be so enmeshed in their own culture that they become blind to its injustices. Because of this, Emshwiller spends more time dwelling in Charley’s head than she does exploring all of the intricacies of the Hoot world. Which is not to say that she doesn’t give a reasonably solid background for the Hoot’s society; she just choose to view it mainly from the viewpoint of an outsider, and thus leaves a few key things up to the interpretation of the reader. I did leave the book wondering about the lifestyle of the Hoots before they crashed on Earth and how they

This novel was a pretty quick and easy read (I finished it in an evening), which I think was largely a product of the bulk of the book being told from the perspective of the 11-13 year old Charley; the prose was not overly florid, but neither was it stark and simplistic. Due to it being told through Charley’s eyes many of the characters never become fully developed beyond his first impressions, but that can be forgiven as the focus on the development of Charley himself is much more the point of the book. One of the things I liked about the book was the fact that there was never a moment where Charley was possessed of an intense epiphany transforming him into a rabid proselyte for mankind’s freedom; instead, even when he begins to see the value of the “wild” humans’ points, it becomes all mixed up with the detritus of being raised as a servant of the Hoots. While Charley’s obstinacy was slightly off-putting early on, in the end I appreciated that Emshwiller didn’t take the easy way out with his character.

There was one stylistic choice which had me scratching my head, and that was the decision to have two chapters told from the P.O.V. of character’s other than Charley, first an anonymous Hoot, and then later Charley’s father. I can understand the Hoot chapter as it acts almost as a prologue to the book, and the chapter with Charley’s father gives more insight into the mind of the stoic character, both of which are worthy goals. I guess my issue is with how it made the narrative structure feel unbalanced to me; if every chapter alternates between characters, that’s one thing, but when 95% of the book is told from one P.O.V., and then there are two random chapters told from two different P.O.V.s, it takes me momentarily out of the story. Not a major complaint at all, and probably something that would bother only me, but since it was pretty much my only problem with the book, I figured I’d share.

The Mount is a well-written book which would probably appeal to fans of non-genre fiction as well as die-hard SF fans. Those who prefer their SF hard and technobabbley might not enjoy it as much, but if you like a story that’s a little outside the box, this book could fit the bill.

TV Tues - Danged Cable!

A little lighter than usual today, since my cable decided to go out on me Sunday afternoon. No clue when it's going to get fixed; it would be nice if it was done before Gilmore Girls, but I really, really hope it's ready to go before Lost tomorrow.

On to the reviews

Gilmore Girls: There was something not quite rightabout last week's episode; hard to put a finger on exactly what it was, but Rory and Lorelei's dialogue felt forced, and neither of them seemed to be acting like themselves. Even Lorelei's running rant about the Final Destination films felt off. Plus, every week that goes by without them resolving the Luke/Lorelei/April thing is another week that makes me wonder what Amy Sherman-Paladino's been smoking. The saving grace of the show was the opening with Paris and Doyle, and the interaction between Mrs. Kim and Zack.

Sons and Daughters: I hate it that this show looks destined for cancellation; the bit with the girl's playing their self-made drinking game was down-right hilarious, and the evolving relationhsip between Cameron and Henry has been handled excellently.

Amazing Race: My first real disapointment of the season, seeing the geeky duo get the boot; I was really hoping for a non-elimination round for them. Oh, well. The TV Gal was complaining about how the same two teams are finishing first and second each week, but personally I find it nice to actually see some teams dominating a bit; of course, I'd feel much different if the dominating teams weren't my two favorites.

My Name is Earl: I felt a bit let-down with this one, but I think I was just expecting a bit too much from Julliet Lewis's guest appearance as Earl's jilted lover turned bounty hunter.

Veronica Mars: Another great show in danger of cancellation (darn you, CW!). I was a little confused as to why Veronica and Logan waited until this episode to track down the 911 caller from the bridge; not sure if I missed out on an explanation or not.

Lost: I blame The Sixth Sense for me figuring out that Hurley's friend was imaginary; as soon as nobody on the basketball court acknowledged him, my brain flashed "he's not there, he's not there!" I'm really enjoying the Henry Gale subplot; it's fun trying to figure out how much is true and how much is a con job.

The O.C.: Oh, The O.C., how you love to torment me with your soapish ways. From Marissa's slide back into juvenile delinquincy, to Sandy's transformation into a slime bucket, to Seth's assinine decision to lie about getting into college, I find myself becoming more and more disgruntled with your irrational plotlines. And then, to top it all off, you tease your viewers with Happy Ryan for a total of two episodes, only to dash his poor abused heart on the rocks yet again. And yet, despite all this, I keep watching you; after all, even all of these trangressions pale in comparison to the Oliver fiasco. I still have nightmares.

Supernatural: I don't care if the old woman in the hospital wasn't a demon, she was the creepiest thing yet on the show.

Survivor: I was hoping that the desperation moves by the underdogs would pay off; maybe next time.

The Loop: Well, they finally broke the streak of having Sam's screw-up turn directly into a massive coup at work, which is nice, but the utter inanity of the work-place security check debacle engaged full eye-rolling mode.

Aeon Flux: Complete Animated series: After watching all of the discs, I've decided that I prefer the original Liquid Television shorts to the full length episodes of the regular series. While the regular series was filled with very cool creatures, inventions, and randomness, the original shorts had a totally different flavor, thanks to the lack of dialogue and the never-ending fatalism. Plus, I think the shorts did a much better job of baffling viewer expectations than the series, which was more concerned with creating intricate, ornate, philosophical plots. Plus, Aeon died at the end of every short, which was an interesting direction to go.

And, with the cable out of commission, I've finally found the time to break open this:

Lost Season 1 Discs 1-4: Really enjoying going back and watching the early episodes, although they are making me truly pine for the days when Locke was the coolest man on the island; I much preferred mysterious, mystical, borderline creepy Locke to the doubt-filled, perpetual victim Locke we have now. Re-watching has also reminded me how glad I am that Shannon's gone; her character never did anything other than annoy me. Kind of wish I had season 2 ready to go when I finish up Season 1.

Movie Mon. - You're One Sly Banana!

To make up for such a belated posting, today's reviews are just chock full o' fun facts!

Last week, a blurb about Stephen Gould's novel Jumper being adapted to the big screen caught my interest since a portion of the novel takes place in my old stomping grounds of Stillwater, OK. It took only a few minutes worth of research to discover that the Stillwater scenes have been excised from the screenplay, which I pretty much expected. However, the situation brought up memories of a film I'd seen during my Freshman year of college which was actually filmed on the OSU campus; it had been years since I'd seen the b-grade flick, so I put it at the top of my queue to answer the question of "Is this is as cheesy as I remember it?" The answer? You betcha.


All-American Murder: So many laughable things in this movie, it's hard to pick which ones to talk about. Let's just set aside for one moment the sheer ludicrous nature of the plot ("bad boy" is framed for the murder of the most popular girl at his new college but is then allowed to roam around doing his own investigations thanks to the whims of hot-shot policed detective Christopher Walken) or the continual idiocy demonstrated by our erstwhile hero; those aren't enough to set apart from your run-of-the-mill Z-grade horror film. No, most of the mock-worthy scenes involved some horribly edited acts of violence; I think my favorite was the killer snake scene, where it's impossible to tell if the thing is supposed to be killing through venom or constriction, although the "killer burns own face even though the torch was pointed somewhere else entirely" sequence was a close second. And then there was the way they tried to pass the second floor patio outside the Student Union off as the "bell tower"; you don't get much more low-budget than that. But the thing which has stuck in my mind all of these years was the main character's tendency to work food into almost any situation: "The whole salami." "You're one sick peanut." "Of course it's my knife, you sausage." And, my favorite, "You're one sly banana." When a group of us first watched this back in the dorms, we fastened upon the food fetish insults as a prime target of mockery. Fun Fact: High point of the film comes around the 5 minute mark, when the dean of the college is walking with a group across the front of Edmon Low Library and announces "And down this way you'll see Parker Hall," a line which elicited cheers in the Parker lobby during our initial viewing back in the day.

Memoirs of a Geisha: Period piece about a young girl's struggles to become a prominent geisha and buy back her freedom. Had a hard time staying interested for the first hour or so, but once they moved into Suyuri's contest, I was hooked. The decision to have Asian-born actors speaking English throughout was, in my opinion, not the best idea; too often their accents made it difficult to understand the dialogue and I finally had to turn on the subtitles anyway to make sure I knew what they were saying. Fun Fact: the film was banned in China due to controversy over Chinese actresses (such as star Ziyi Zhang) playing Japanese geishas.

Sordid Live: From the author of Daddy's Dyin', Who's Got the Will? comes another film about a dysfunctional Southern Baptist family in Texas gathering because of the death of a loved one. This time out it's momma who died, after tripping over the wooden legs of her lover (Beau Bridges) in a darkened hotel room. Cast also includes Delta Burke as Beau Bridges’ jilted wife; Olivia Newton John as the hard living singer who palled around with the deceased; and Beth “Sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion” Grant as the level-headed sister of the deceased having to put up with the antics of her crazy relations. This one's a lot more risqué than Daddy's Dyin', but I also found it to be funnier. Most of the best scenes revolved around the institutionalized sibling known as Brother-Boy (played by veteran character actor Leslie Jordan) who not only compulsively cross-dresses, but at one time believed himself to be Tammy Wynette. Fun Fact: This turned out to be the source of a sound clip they used to use on The Edge all the time; I always recognized Beth Grant's distinctive voice, but never knew where exactly the following line came from: "Take two of these, and you'll feel a lot better in the morning." Fun Fact: some of the lines about Delta Burke’s character had to be changed after she lost quite a bit of weight before filming began.

Just Friends: Romantic comedy starring Ryan Reynolds as a former high school outcast who has undergone a complete physical and social transformation and returns home for the first time in 10 years only to find himself falling back into his old status when he tries to woo his best friend from high school(Amy Smart), who is also being wooed by another outcast-turned-cool-cat from their high school days (Chris Klein). All too often the film was dragged down by its overly contrived plot devices and character complications; the whole ice skating sequence drove me crazy. Luckily, the film is also buoyed by the performances of Reynolds, who consistently amuses me in whatever he's in; the always hilarious Anna Faris (Scary Movie) as a psycho Britney Spears style pop star obsessed with music exec Reynolds; and Chris Marquette (Joan of Arcadia) as Reynolds younger horn-dog brother, a character so far removed from his portrayal of Adam on JoA that it was sometimes jarring. I'm giving this one a cautiously positive review; I enjoyed the enjoyable parts more than I disliked the dislikable parts. Fun Fact: The alternate ending had Anna Faris’s character learning a life lesson from the whole experience; personally, I much preferred the “she’s still a psycho” ending of the theatrical version.

Bee Season: Here's the Netflix blurb:

Competing for the approval of her parents -- a professor of Jewish mysticism (Richard Gere) and a dedicated scientist (Juliette Binoche) -- 11-year-old Eliza Naumann (Flora Cross) is used to appearing ordinary. But winning the school spelling bee could be her chance to make an impression -- and convince her father that she's destined for greatness

Trust me, that doesn't even scratch the surface of what this film is about, as Eliza's father becomes convinced that Eliza's gift is a direct connection to God, her brother rebels by diving into other religions, and her mother's behavior veers into the bizarre, uncovering a long-buried secret. So far from what I expected when I rented it, and yet I still enjoyed it. I actually liked Richard Gere in this, which is a rare occurrence indeed; I can count on one hand the number of films I've liked him in. Unfortunately, while I liked him, I think that likeability makes some of the actions of the other characters a little harder to fathom. Probably my favorite parts of the film were the spelling bee sequences, as Eliza falls into her spelling trance and begins to conjure visual representations of whatever she's spelling, so that "cumulus" creates a vision of clouds, "dandelion" a vision of a giant puffball, etc. The ending isn't as clear as it could have been in terms of why characters do what they do, but the nebulous ending does not negate my enjoyment of the overall film. Fun fact: while based on a novel by Myla Goldberg, the screenplay itself was written by Naomi Foner Gyllenhaal, mother of Jake and Maggie Gyllenhaal.

Inexchange: Extremely low-budget horror film about a nerd pushed to his breaking point by the ridicule of his peers. There was something oddly compelling about this film, but danged on if I could tell you what it was; the acting wasn't that great, the script was mediocre at best, and the quality of the video stock used wasn't all that great. And yet, somehow, the film kept my interest throughout; I think part of it was the fact that, unlike a lot of movies, you could actually believe that the nerd was a nerd, and not just some movie-star nerding it up for a part. Which isn't to say that I actually enjoyed the film; instead, let’s say that I didn't despise it. For die-hard horror buffs only, and most of the more hard-core gorehounds will be bummed out by the sub-par death scenes. Fun Fact: I have no Fun Facts about this film.

Movie Mon. - I'm Just Glad Meet the Parents Didn't Make the List . . .

My reviews will be up a bit later today. In the meantime, enjoy this blog meme on movie comedies.

John Scalzi has created a blog meme to discuss the proposed canonical list of film comedies from Bob McCabe's The Rough Guide to Comedy Movies.

The idea is to annotate the list as follows: Films in bold I have seen and I actually own those with an asterisk on DVD/Video. Below that is my commentary:

Airplane!
All About Eve
Amelie
Annie Hall
The Apartment
Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery
Blazing Saddles
Bringing Up Baby
Broadcast News
Caddyshack
Le diner de con
Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story
Duck Soup
Ferris Bueller's Day Off*
Four Weddings and a Funeral
The General
Ghostbusters
The Gold Rush
Good Morning Vietnam
The Graduate
Groundhog Day
A Hard Day's Night
His Girl Friday
Kind Hearts and Coronets
The Lady Killers
Local Hero
Manhattan
M*A*S*H
Monty Python's Life of Brian
National Lampoon's Animal House
The Odd Couple
The Producers
Raising Arizona*
Roxanne
Rushmore
Shaun of the Dead*
A Shot in the Dark
Some Like it Hot
Strictly Ballroom
Sullivan's Travels
There's Something About Mary
This is Spinal Tap*
To Be or Not to Be
Tootsie
Toy Story
Les vacances de M. Hulot
When Harry Met Sally...*
Withnail and I


Films Whose Presence in the Canon I'm Particularly Gratified to See (pick up to five):

1. Groundhog Day
2. Raising Arizona
3. Roxanne
4. Shaun of the Dead
5. This is Spinal Tap

Films in the Canon Whose Presence Should Not Be (pick up to five): I can only comment on those that I've actually seen.

1. All About Eve (Great movie, but not one I ever would have lumped in with comedy)
2. Austin Powers (while it grew on me, I've never understood the Austin Powers craze)
3. Bringing Up Baby (this movie drove me to murderous rages at times; people lying for no reason, people refusing to listen to one another, people automatically assuming the worst of somebody, contrived slapstick . . . it's like a Who's Who of my comedy pet peeves)
4. Dodgeball (enjoyable, but deserving of a spot here? Hardly)
5. Monty Python's Life of Brian (personally my least favorite of the Python films, probably because it's the most linear)

Films I'd Pick to Replace Them (pick up to five): I've tried to pick films that sort of correspond in genre, tone, and/or era to the five I disagreed with, although I didn't make it an obsessive compulsion to do so.

1. Arsenic and Old Lace (a classic comedy)
2. Young Frankenstein (My favorite Mel Brooks movie)
3. Philadelphia Story (A far superior screwball comedy to Bringing Up Baby, in my opinion. Yes, it has some of my pet peeves, but they are handled much better, and most of the characters actually seem to have a brain, which is nice)
4. The Jerk (Steve Martin's comic masterpiece)
5. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (I mean, seriously, how could this one have been omitted?)

The More Things Change . . .

Earlier this week, after months of battling through red tape, I was informed that the paperwork for my job transformation finally went through, and I am now officially a Librarian at the University of North Texas, which basically means that I now have more responsibilities, more obligations, more paperwork, and a bit more pay. My new supervisor sent me a copy of the introductory information she was going to submit to the weekly library newsletter, Friday Fragments, and asked if I wanted to add any personal information. I responded with a slightly goofy bit of info and then sat back and waited for the next issue of Friday Frags to arrive in my email. After I got the email notification I opened the word document and scrolled down past the group picture of librarians in the main library; past the announcement of a new worker in Digital Projects; past the departmental updates; past the Dreamweaver Survey; past the upcoming events calendar; past the job announcements; and then back up again, once I reached the bottom. It was then I found it, buried in the departmental update, which resembles a gigantic run-on sentence since there's no space separating the note to contact another librarian for information on a specific project and the brief statement regarding my move to librarian status. When I commented to a couple of co-workers, they confirmed that they had not even noticed it was in there at all.

*cue "Cap'n Cellophane" music*

At this point, it's just to be expected, really. Anyhoo, here be the announcement as it might have appeared in a parallel dimension where The Powers That Be aren't plotting to perpetuate my paranoia:

Todd Enoch, a Library Specialist in the Technical Services Department since 2001, is now a Visiting Librarian I with the title of Database Management Librarian. Mr. Enoch received his Master’s degree from SLIS Dec. 2005. He will be assisting in the creation of innovative solutions to provide strategic information for management of Technical Services workflows. In his spare time, Mr. Enoch indulges an unhealthy obsession with popular culture, an obsession he expounds upon in his blog, which entertains virtually twos of people daily.

"We Have Become Like Unto Tiny Refreshing Gods!"

Now, Order of the Stick is probably one of the most consistently entertaining webcomics out there, but today's offering amused me so much that I had to share.

All Played Out

I’ve been thinking about doing more music-centered posts recently, like a “Top 10 All Time Favorite Songs” sort of thing, but that’s a much harder list to compile than you might think, especially with all of the rules and limits I feel compelled to impose (only one song per artist, must be over X years old, subdivide by genre or not?); however, while these thoughts have been on my mind, last night’s episode of My Name is Earl served to push my mind in a totally different direction.

Top 10 Songs I Could Happily Never Hear Again In My Life

1.“I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor: Well-worn staple of karaoke bars throughout the world, this is one overdone song that needs to crawl into the grave with disco so the rest of us can rest in peace. I know this one would normally get me in trouble with Cap’n Disaster; luckily, she’s so busy with wedding plans that I can probably get away with it for now . . . man, I hope this isn’t on the mix CD they play at the reception . . . my one caveat on this one is that I still enjoy the version by Cake.

2.“YMCA” by The Village People: Here we have the ultimate instigator of mindless group dancing, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing; still, one can only spell out four letters with your arms so many times before mind-numbing ennui settles in.

3.“Blame it on the Rain” by Milli Vanilli: I never liked this song at all, and its popularity and near-constant airplay quickly transformed my dislike into hatred; I can clearly remember a moment when it came on the radio, prompting me to switch to my next preset station, which also happened to be playing it, as was the next. It was at that moment that I knew the song was out to get me, and I most remain ever vigilant, as a hawk, to preserve my own sanity. As you can tell, I’ve done an excellent job of that so far . . .

4.“My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion: Much like #4, my initial dislike of this song was magnified by its ubiquitous nature during the height of Titanic’s popularity which, unfortunately, seemed to last forever

5.“Bittersweet Symphony” by The Verve: I cannot adequately quantify exactly what it is about this song that elicits such strong feelings of loathing in me; all I can say with any certainty is that it does.

6.“Piece of My Heart” by Faith Hill: Janis Joplin’s version? Heavy contender for my All Time Top 10. This version? Heavy contender for “Song Most Likely to Drive Me to Suicide, or at the Least, Self-Inflicted Bodily Mutilation Involving the Ears.” Seriously, what were they thinking? Worst. Cover. Ever.

7.“Paul Revere/Brass Monkey” by The Beastie Boys: Honestly, at this point in time the two songs are interchangeable in my head; there was a period of time when I couldn’t turn on the Edge while driving without hearing one or the other. Now, maybe it’s just me, but when I turn on the “new rock” station, I expect to hear something that, at the very least, came out after I graduated High School. Frustration over Edge D.J.’s obsession + general dislike of most pre-“Sure Shot” Beastie Boys tracks = pathological distaste for either of these two songs.

8.“I Believe I Can Fly“ by R. Kelley: Yet another case of “I didn’t like this before they overplayed the heck out of it” Good thing he was able to redeem himself with “Trapped in the Closet,” huh? I mean, before that, my only musical association with R. was the saccharine piece of treacle that was “I Believe,” but now I can rest easy, remembering his nonsensical opera filled with gun play, old women wielding spatulas, and narcoleptic incontinent midgets. Oh, how far you’ve come, Mr. Kelly, how far you’ve come.

9.“You’re an All-Star” by Smashmouth: Now, you know, I actually used to like this song when I first heard it, really I did; you know, back before it made it onto the Mystery Men soundtrack . . . and the Rat Race soundtrack . . . and the Shrek soundtrack . . . and countless TV commercials . . .

And, last but not least, the song that got this whole list started.

10.“Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fighting” by Carl Douglas/Wang Chung/anyone at all: One of the ultimate clichés of modern pop culture: if there’s a comedy featuring a martial arts fight, 9 times out of 10 it will be performed over this horribly over-played song. Face it, folks, that gag stopped being fresh and clever over a decade ago. I think I reached my final straw with this particular song with the butchered English version of Shaolin Soccer, which replaced several different songs in the original soundtrack with this particular song. So, so needless.

DISHONORABLE MENTION: Anything by P. Diddy/Puff Daddy/Diddy/Whatever: Honestly, the only song of his I can even remotely tolerate is “All About the Benjamins,” and that probably has as much to do with the fact that I associate it with Weird Al’s “All About the Pentiums” as anything else. Please, I beg of you, stop doing anyting at all which might encourage Diddy to continue to produce his own music. For my sake, as well as the sake of the children. Please, think of children!

And don't even get me started on Sugar Ray, Sublime, or Neil Diamond . . .

This Is Going to Drive Me Crazy All Day . . .

This morning I was in the break room getting some water when one of the student workers made a comment about having to get calcium from some other source because she doesn't drink milk. Another student asked her why, and she said she just can't stand the taste, which caused the questioning student to exclaim that he couldn't stand the taste of milk either, which in turn caused another staff member to chime in with her own dislike of milk, which in turn brought out my own milk-loathing. The general consensus: milk by itself is bad, but chocolate milk or milk on cereal is fine.

This little episode of course put me in mind of the CAP'NS (that's the Coalition Against Putting Nuts in Stuff for the newer blog monkeys) and how strong our joy was over finding out that there were there were other people out there with the same food quirks; it's kind of amazing just how strong a bond can be created out of such a simple thing.

While thinking about this, I was reminded of something I saw or read recently where someone was expounding on the idea that the strongest relationships were not built on common likes, but on common dislikes, that two people will be made stronger by a mutual hatred than a mutual love, that a bond created by the fact that you both love Firefly will not be as potent as a bond created by the fact that you both despise Jimmy Fallon's giggle-prone antics on SNL.

Of course, while I can remember the general idea of the "mutual-hatred bond," I can't for the life of me remember where it came from; I'm leaning towards it being from a TV show or movie, but I'm not even 100% positive on that.

It's been a while since I've been a blatant comment whore, so here goes: anyone out there have any other examples of bonding through mutual dislike, whether it be of food, pop culture, co-worker, etc.? And, perhaps more importantly, does anyone out there have any frickin' idea where the mutual-loathing thing has popped up recently?

Every Little Bit Helps

If you get a chance, go cast your votes in USA Today's annual "Save Our Shows" poll which lists "on the bubble" shows which need fan support to get picked up for another season. Not to sway your vote, but I voted to keep the following:

• Veronica Mars
• Everwood
• Sons and Daughters
• Scrubs
• Invasion
• The Loop
  

I also voted to drop the cringeworthy Hope and Faith and the indescribably awful Teachers.

Written Word Wed. - Any Book That Mentions Rom, Space-Knight, Can't Be ALL Bad . . .

Today's review is about a book which, while not part of the SF/Fantasy genre I gravitate towards, does contain enough geektastic references to hold my interest.

The Toy Collector by James Gunn

Jimmy Gunn is a loser; an alcoholic, drug-popping, man-slut of a loser. Jimmy is drifting aimlessly through life until his friend Billy introduces him to the wonders of toy collecting; suddenly Jimmy has a purpose in life: to own every toy robot ever made. Of course, toy collecting is an expensive habit, so Jimmy and Billy turn to the best cash-making plan they can think of: drug-peddling. Soon, their shared apartment is drowning in collectibles as Jimmy strives to recapture the magic of his youth, reliving the madcap adventures of his borderline-sociopathic childhood. His life is thrown out of its rut when he meets Evelyn, a 19-year old year who stirs within him something he hasn't felt in countless years, something which he thinks might possibly be love. But, the course of true love has never run true, as they say, and even less so for a self-destructive alcoholic with a toy fetish. Still, faced with feelings he has suppressed since a tragic occurrence in his youth, Jimmy struggles to place himself on the path to sobriety, normality, and happiness.

The Toy Collector is a darkly humorous novel of transgressional fiction, a genre which focuses on people who feel confined by society's strictures and obligations and attempt to break free from them. These attempts are typified by anti-social behavior and a breaking of societal taboos, both of which are in full force in this particular novel, which is replete with violence, substance abuse, and explicit sexual situations. The protagonist, though named after the author, bears little resemblance to him. On his webpage Gunn responds to the question “What on earth possessed you to name the protagonist of the book James Gunn?” thusly:

To this I reply I like the sound of my name, I’ve always been somewhat enamored of myself, and what better advertising for ME than having my name on every single page? I forgot Hubert Selby Jr.’s name for a couple of years after I read Last Exit to Brooklyn; but if he had named the protagonist after himself, well, it might have been a different outcome altogether. So I have a bit of an ego problem, I know that. I’m dealing with it. I’m in therapy. That’s no secret.

Gunn has also claimed that, while not necessarily factual, there are portions of the book which are "true."

I'm torn on this one. On the one hand, I enjoyed Gunn's wicked sense of humor; on the other, the train-wreck that was Jimmy's life often became as oppressive to me as it was to him. On the whole, I'm not necessarily a fan of non-stop self-destructive behavior; Gunn's humor helped make it more palatable, but a little of the "sex, drugs, and more sex and drugs" mentality goes a long way with me. I found the most interesting and entertaining portions of the book to be the flashback's to Jimmy's childhood; the bonding of Jimmy, his younger, equally psychotic brother Tar, and their two equally outcast neighbors was alternately hilarious, touching, and disturbing. The idea of children being so caught up in their imaginations that they can actually hear their toys talking to them is both beautiful and worrying, even more so as the elder Jimmy falls into the same trap.

In the end, I'd have to say I was just lukewarm towards this one; if you're a fan of trangressional fiction authors like Chuck Palahniuk or Brett Easton Ellis you might enjoy this, although the character of Jimmy is much more in tune with society than the protagonists of the books I've read by Ellis and Palahniuk. In fact, that might be why I had a harder time enjoying this one: with Patrick Bateman in American Psycho and the characters in Lullaby, there is an emotional distance between them and their actions, whereas Jimmy feels strongly about his mistakes, but just can't correct them. I guess it's just easier for me to read about true sociopaths than those who are trapped in less psychotic modes of self-destruction; I'm funny that way.

TV Tues. - What a Twist!

I must confess some small disapointment that nobody commented on the change to the random quotes in the CoiM banner, but rather than dwell on that let's just dive right in to the reviews, shall we?

Top Chef: I want Stephen gone soooooooooooooooo much; was so glad to see him called in with the bottom three. Now, if only he had been sent home. *sigh*

Lost: I'm guessing the woman whose house Locke was inspecting is connected to someone somewhere; anyone know for sure? Still can't believe we haven't found out how Locke became paralyzed. J.J. Abrams, you're a tease!

Supernatural: another well done episode; I particularly enjoyed the practical joke war runner; its the brothers' dynamic that sells the show.

Sons & Daughters: Well, after giving up on the show the previous week, my mom gave it another chance, and was won back. Along similar lines, I was very glad that the latest two episodes backed off of the "everything's Cameron's fault" trope. As a matter of fact, the episode where he thought he caused his mom's heart attack seemed tailor made for that, and yet not once did his siblings jump on him; needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised. Right now this is probably #3 on my sitcom list, right behind Earl and The Office.

West Wing: Now that it's certain they're going to use John Spencer's death as a key point in the election, I have to wonder how it was going to play out beforehand. I still don't want Vinnick to win; the only member of his staff I find even remotely likeable was Patricia Richardson, and once her character threw herself on her sword for the campaign my last vestige of empathy for the Vinnick crew dissipated.

My Name is Earl: Was I the only one who had visions of The Toy during Earl's day of slavery to the kid?

Veronica Mars: I enjoyed the cameos by the kids from Arrested Development; now that AD is officially dead, I wouldn't mind seeing Michael "George Michael" Cera reprising his role next season (assuming it gets renewed . . . please let it get renewed!)

The Office: The best part of the whole episode was watching Ryan's reaction to Dwight and Angela's "cookie" conversation; that shell-shocked look of his in the interview sequence: priceless. Second favorite part of the episode: Michael's comment to Pam about needing to do breast exams because they were "ticking time bags."

The Loop: And we continue the "Sam screws up and the screw up winds up saving his butt" device; the show has flashes of brilliance, but then often falls prey to annoying clichés. So, maybe Matt Roush's mediocre review wasn't that far off base after all . . .

E.R.: I'm glad the Luka/Abby problem didn't get dragged out for too long; as much as I hated their relationship the first time around (back in the days when Luka acted more like a soulless automaton than a human), now both characters have grown enough that I'm hoping they can find some happiness with each other. Of course, this is E.R., so nobody will ever find true happiness.

Everwood: It wasn't until the previews for next week's episode that it dawned on me that Hannah and Bright hadn't been on last night's episode at all. That's a pretty good testament to how strong all of the other characters are on the show, if they can carry an ep so well that I don't even notice the lack of one of my favorite characters currently on TV. I'm really ready for someone to slap some sense into Amy; the blind hero worship of Jack Bauer's dead wife (yes, that's how I will probably always think of her) is a bit much, as is her instant "You disagree with my political views, and so we must now be mortal enemies!" stance. I know Amy's always been pig-headed, but c'mon!

Survivor: I was really hoping that they guys would be able to break the alliance and send Shane packing; he annoys me sooooo much.

Grey's Anatomy: I'm glad that George is starting to move forward; silent-treatment-George is no fun. And I didn't realize until this past week that his new squeeze if played by Sara Ramirez, who won a Tony for her portrayal of the Lady of the Lake in Spamalot; here's hoping she sticks around awhile.

The Apprentice: I couldn't agree with Bryce's comment at the end more: "It wouldn't hurt Trump to listen sometimes." Personally, I couldn't agree with the principles behind Bryce's decision more; no, it might not have been the best strategic decision in terms of the game, but it drives me crazy that anytime anyone in the board room demonstrates any sense of loyalty or honor, Trump and the others just stare at them like they've just killed and devoured their own young in front of them.

Wonder Showzen Disc 1: This parody of kids shows strives to be as offensive and politically incorrect as humanly possible, and is pretty danged successful in its goal. Unfortunately, just saying or doing the most offensive thing conceivable does not automatically equal great comedy. Not to say that there aren't some hilarious things on here; the "Beat Kids" segments with precocious kid reporters were usually pretty good (I liked the one where the little girl was going around Wall Street asking businessmen "How many people have you exploited today?"), as were the MST3K-style voiceovers of old educational films. But for quite a few skits I just felt that they were trying too hard to be shocking. Still, I don't know if I laughed any harder at anything else I saw in the past week than I did at their "Global Politics in 30 Seconds" cartoon.

Robot Chicken Season 1: Stop-motion animation series from the mind of Seth Green that is tailor made for people like me with its non-stop pop culture references and prolific use of action figures. It's a show that often struck me as more "clever" than "laugh out loud funny," but how can I not get behind a show that features a skit about movie twists that not only references Sleepaway Camp, but follows the reference with a character popping up to scream in astonishment, "Somebody remembered this movie and wrote a comedy sketch about it"? I mean, between that, lines like "Look, it's Joel Schumacher, history's greatest monster!", and a 7even skit starring the Smurfs, you know I'm hooked. Another favorite running gag was M. Night Shyamalan popping up after really lame reveals to shout "What a twist!" And speaking of really lame reveals . . .

SPOILER SPACE FOR PRISON BREAK and 24

Prison Break: People have been talking about last nights episode of Prison Break for months, and with good reason; the view into the pre-prison lives of the main characters was well done and engaging. However, I've also seen multiple comments about the big twist at the end: quoth this week's issue of TV Guide, "there's a twist at the end that will make you gasp." So, I watched the whole episode with baited breath, wondering what could get all the TV critics in such a tizzy. Then, the episode ends after we find out that this guy is the Vice President's brother and that he's alive, and my only thought is "why is that supposed to be shocking?" I mean, maybe it hadn't been actually stated for sure at any point, but I thought the fact that the V.P.'s bro was still alive was pretty obvious, especially in light of the whole "the body's not his" thing from last week. I don't know, I just felt a little cheated.

24: Now, while Prison Break left me feeling cheated, 24 left me feeling confused. So, the weaselly, whiney, ineffectual President is actually the great puppet master of it all? Seriously? I'm going to reserve some judgment until we find out the full story, but right now I'm having a hard time buying it . . . almost as hard a time as I've had buying that the bumbler was actually President in the first place, so I'm hoping that the backstory will help me deal with that cognitive dissonance.

Movie Mon. - I Have to Say, I Prefer "Splatstick" to "Slapstick"

Going to be pretty brief this time around; as the folks in my Sunday School class yesterday morning could tell you, my brain no want worky puttin' words together. But, me do me darndest


A Sound of Thunder: I do not currently have the cognitive capacity to dissect this the way that it deserves, so I shall reserve for bile for another time. For right now, suffice it to say that I hated this movie very, very much.

2001 Maniacs: Remake/sequel to the 1960s gorefest 2000 Maniacs. Basic plot remains the same (group of modern-day Yankees stumble into a town of crazy Southerners still looking for revenge for Civil War atrocities), but the characters and death sequences have been updated for the 21st century. The director refers to this sort of tongue-in-cheek horror film "splatstick," saying that it's kind of like slapstick, only instead of a pie in the face you get a severed head. The film is totally over the top in everything it does, which both works for it and against it, depending on your tastes. Personally, I enjoyed the film's over-the-top nature, especially the performances of Robert "Freddy Krueger" Englund and Lin "The Gross Old Woman From Kingpin and There's Something About Mary" Shaye as the Pleasant Valley's elder maniacs.

I Love Your Work: Indie drama starring Giovanni Ribisi as a movie star starting to crack under the strains of his celebrity status. A lot of likeable actors in this one; in addition to Ribisi, who's become one of my favorite actors in the last few years, we also have Nicky Katt, Jason Lee, Joshua Jackson, Christina Ricci, and Judy Greer. Now, if only the film could have lived up to its cast. Not a bad film (especially not when viewed the same week I saw Sound of Thunder), but its meandering plot lost my interest about half-way through. Good performances (especially Ribisi as the loony actor and Jason Lee as his maybe-stalker), but the script just fell short in the end.


Daddy's Dyin' . . . Who's Got the Will?: Movie based on the stage play starring Beau Bridges, Judge Reinhold, and Olivia D'Angelo. Actually a pretty faithful adaptation of the play, just with much more grounded performances. For some the grounding worked (Tess Harper's turn as Sara Lee) while others kind of suffered from it (Judge Reinhold's hippie Harmony was nowhere near as entertaining). The only change that really bothered me (outside of a totally different pronunciation of Evalita's name) was the fact that Evalita, who was portrayed as a constant screw-up in the play, turned out to be a really talented singer and performer in the film; while I enjoyed Olivia D'Angelo's performances, taking away the idea that Evalita was just deluding herself puts a whole different spin on things.

Slither: Horror-comedy homage to the alien invasion films of the 50s and 60s centering around a small town overrun by alien parasites. I don't want to say too much about the aliens, other than to say that those who swear this is a rip-off of Night of the Creeps need to actually watch the film to see that there's a world of differences here. This is a horror-comedy more in the vein of Lake Placid than Shaun of the Dead. Don't want to give anything away, so I'll just say that it was definitely worth the price of admission.

Filmtastic Friday - Coming Attractions

No, I haven't forgotten that I promised to do in-depth reviews of A History of Violence and V for Vendetta; I've just been to lazy to do so.

You can also probably expect a pretty detailed review of the latest contender for "Worst Time Travel Movie I've Ever Seen," A Sound of Thunder; seriously, what were they thinking?

I'd like to do more lists of films like my horror movie series back in October, but I have no clue when I'd find the time.

One thing that I have found the time for, though, is the premiere of Slither today; I came in early and stayed late a few days this week so I could take a long lunch and go see it. Well, I say "lunch," but from what I've heard, it will probably be best if I don't eat anything while watching it . . .

I Really Need to Update the Cast List

The Singles department is in a near constant state of flux, especially the "young" singles class; since I've started attending First Baptist of Denton, I can think of at least five distinct iterations of my Sunday School class as people have flowed in and out due to changes in jobs, school, and marital status. Over the past couple of months, the class has started to move into yet another iteration as we've started hemorrhaging class members; at this point, there's not a single class member left from when I started, and only one or two who were there before I took over teaching. A few weeks back Smooth Money's Girl became Mrs. Smooth Money; last Friday Cap'n Bumper tied the knot as well at a beautiful outdoor ceremony which was marred only by the fact that it was frickin' cold out; next week I get to be the D.J. at Cap'n Disaster's nuptials (a job which consists solely of pressing "play" on the CD player); and, last but not least, Clan Lightbulb has bid our class adieu as they prepare in earnest for their move to Austin later this year. The loss of these Singles has had quite an effect on the dynamic of the class, as many of them were among the more vocal members, either in relevant discussion points (Smooth Money's Girl), entertaining diversions (Cap'ns Bumper and Disaster) or a combination of the two (Clan Lightbulb); heck, I don't even know how to start off my lessons anymore without Cap'n Bumper or Mama Lightbulb around to make the requisite inappropriate comment to trigger my trademark "And on that note, please open up your bibles to . . ." But, while we're losing quite a few members, we've also gained a few along the way, such as Magic Pants or the man now known as The Anti-Cap'n; life among the Singles is all about change.

Free-form Friday

I've had a hard time getting myself to focus long enough to do my regular ginormous postings recently, so I've decided to bite the bullet and just start posting more miniscule postings a bit more often during these creative droughts; to kick it off, here's some random thoughts on the joys of memes.

No sooner had I made a snarky comment about how Rocket was practically the only one who responded to my last tag then my friend iamam finally got around to it; at least she had a good excuse. Also, Fellow Book Monkey and Blogger Bubblegum Tate has assured me that he will respond to yesterday's tag; I'll be sure to keep you all updated on if and when any others respond.

I have to say that I kind of like the whole meme/tag format for blog posts; at times they spark my creative energies pretty easily. I've now started searching for regular meme sites, but most of the ones I've found so far are, to put it bluntly, pretty lame. I suppose I could try to come up with my own memes like Rocket's friend did, but that kind of sabotages the whole "being inspired by others" aspect. Plus, a lot of these meme lists can serve as a way to expand my blog monkey base.

So, if anyone out there knows of a good meme list, or has some ideas for blog topics, feel free to send 'em my way.

Back in the Day When I Was Young, I'm Not a Kid Anymore, But Sometimes I Sit and Wish I Was a Kid Again

I've been tagged by Rocket G'ovich with a newish meme; since she was one of the few to actually participate in my previous game of tag, I decided it would only be fair for me to play along.

List 5 things from childhood that define who you were/are and how you thought/think. Weird things you did (and sometimes still do) as a child. They could be kind of typical things, not necessarily “original” things that ONLY you did, but maybe your weird brain did some of them in a different way.

1. My Coca-Cola addiction goes back as far as I can remember. My ears were specially attuned to the sound of a 2 liter bottle being opened; many's the time I would be sitting in the living room, watching TV, only to suddenly race into the kitchen, spurred by the sharp hiss of carbonation escaping from the newly opened bottle of Coke. To this day, the sound of a 2 liter bottle being opened causes my head to whip around towards the source.

2. For years I preferred to sleep on the hideabed in the living room rather than my actual bed in my bedroom. I did not sleep on it lengthwise, because the bars in the frame were pretty uncomfortable, but instead maneuvered myself into the groove in between the bars, which became increasingly ungainly as I grew taller. But in addition to this idiosyncrasy, I would also often squeeze down into the hollow inside the couch where the bed usually rested; before the purchase of the hideabed I would often do the same sort of thing with my regular bed whose wooden frame with drawers on the bottom afforded the same sort of enclosed, hidden area. I'm not sure what it was that appealed to me about that; perhaps it was like my own private world, dark and secure, playing into the obsession my younger self had with secret rooms and hidden passages. Or, perhaps I was just a freak.

3. When I was playing with my toys, I did my best to integrate all of the different styles and brands into a cohesive universe, so that there was a reason that Masters of the Universe were hanging out with G.I. Joes and Transformers. This would result in world-building of a sort, as I imparted all of the action figures with super-powers of some sort or another; in the case of the G.I. Joes it was usually based on their code-name in some way, shape or form, although it was sometimes a stretch (I'm looking at you, Grand Slam and Gung Ho). If a figure was maimed in some way, that also worked its way into my stories; I wound up creating a world populated by legless people to accommodate several mutilated Star Wars and G.I. Joe figures, not to mention Lieutenant Ilia from Star Trek: The Motion Picture (who was also psychic, what with her being bald like Professor X and all). And then there was my crowning achievement in imaginary rationalization: I somehow wound up with two Scarlett figures, one of which lost half of its right arm; this disabled figure then became Scarlett's evil twin, Crimson.

4. Along similar lines, outside of the action figures and my totally original creations (a few of whom would be familiar to the few among you who've actually read In a Cabin in the Woods), a large portion of my creative energies in my younger days were spent creating super-hero style scenarios based around pre-existing source material. For example, I had a long-standing storyline in my head revolving around characters based upon Stephen King movies, some of which (Carrie, Firestarter, The Shining) lent themselves more easily to the task than others (Cat's Eye, Creepshow). I also had a random assortment of characters based on everything from the light cycles in Tron to creatures from old Star Trek episodes. And then, of course, there were the never-ending comic book iterations; I might conjure up the story of the children of heroes I liked, granting them variations on their parents powers; I might create an alternate, all-star menagerie of characters culled from the pages of Who's Who in the DC Universe or The Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe, often going so far as to fill notebook pages with the character line-ups; and, perhaps oddest of all, I would often impose upon myself the restriction of crafting stories about characters based solely on the visual representation of powers on the cover of a book, occasionally going so far as to construct a story based on the wildly divergent scenes in consecutive issues. Hey, when you're an only child with limited social skills, you have to find ways to entertain yourself, right?

5. I'm sure most people who are around me a lot have noticed that I almost always have something to occupy my hands, whether it be a rubber band, an ink pen, or some other random object I've picked up and started fiddling around with; this has been going on for as long as I can remember, and at one point manifested itself in one type of item in particular. You see, some kids have security blankets and some cling to a stuffed animals; I, on the other hand, had a security stick. Multiple sticks, actually. The earliest ones were prizes won at the school carnival; one was a bamboo spear complete with a plastic Indian arrowhead as a tip and multicolored feathers, while another was a thin red rod with a dark blue removable handle. These both served as tools for my imaginary adventures, the red rod serving as a laser sword (hold the empty handle, do the "activation" motion, then make the obligatory light saber noise as stick goes into handle) and spear serving as a mystical medicine stick. But it wasn't long before the spear lost its tip, and then became cracked, and I was forced to repair it with electrical tape, which became its de facto hilt. The stick was sword, magic wand, gun and laser beam and whatever else I could come up with. There would come many other sticks, including a shillelagh carved by my Great-grandfather Sutton which became a favorite for a while, but that old, cracked, school carnival spear was probably the longest lasting one.

Well, that just about does it for that meme, I guess. As for tagging others with the meme, I’ll go ahead and tag a couple of high school friends (Redneck Diva and Andi) and a couple of former co-workers (iamam and Fellow Book Monkey and Blogger Bubblegum Tate); any bet’s on see how many of them actually respond to this tag?

Theatrical Thurs. - I Done Peed In My Chili

As I mentioned last week, Cap'n Cluck and I got to go see the local community theater's latest production for free. The movie version of the play is currently winging its way to me courtesy of Netflix, but before I talk about the movie on Monday, I thought I'd give my thoughts on the original version of Daddy's Dyin' . . . Who's Got the Will?

Set in the West Texas town of Lowake (pronounced low-AKE-ee), the play centers around a reunion of sorts of a very dysfunctional family, gathering together to deal with their father's declining health. The players include: Lurlene the "bible-thumper," who moved away because her husband felt called to be a preacher; Orville, the loutish, dim-bulb son; Marlene, his mousey, diet-obsessed wife; Evalita, wild child and multiple divorcee; Harmony Rhodes, her hippie boyfriend; Sara Lee, the faithful daughter who stayed in Lowake when the rest of them moved off; and, last but not least, Mama Wheelis, the wisecracking mother-in-law. Taking place on the days directly proceeding and following the father's death, the play takes the characters through a minefield of long-gestating issues and buried resentments, complicated by the free spirited Evalita (who's just decided she's going to be a signer) and paranoid Orville (who's convinced that he's "done peed in [his] chili" and gotten cut from the will) becoming obsessed with finding their dad's missing will. Throw in some mental instability, some infidelity, and some smoking of the reefer, and you've got a wild and crazy time.

Or, at least, that's the intention. The end result was dependent (as plays always are) by the skill and talent of the cast. In this case (as often happens with community theater) we have a mixed bag. The cast as a whole had some difficulties utilizing their West Texas accents while still being able to project and enunciate clearly; Cluck and I were on the third row of a pretty small theater, and there were quite a few times when we couldn't make out what they were saying. The actor playing the father was the worst culprit; I'm pretty sure his dialogue was supposed to be incoherent, but not incomprehensible. And then there was the actress playing Sara Lee, supposedly the most grounded of the sibling, but played with the broadest strokes and most artificial (not to mention repetitive) blocking: walk forward three steps, shift weight to left foot, stick right hip out, bounce big 80s hair with one hand, repeat as needed, making sure to keep face in a squinty-eyed, frozen rictus of faux happiness. A tad distracting. But there were some standouts in the cast, particularly hippie Harmony, crazy Evalita, and snappy Mama Wheelis; all three of them had a good grasp of comic timing, something that was sadly lacking at times.

There were a few times during the play when Cap'n Cluck and I were the only ones laughing, which I chalk up to the fact that the family in the play were not just churched-folk, they were Southern Baptists; even though their denomination wasn't explicitly mentioned until the end of the play, there were enough Baptist-specific references (such as the WMU) that made it clear to those of us raised Baptist. My favorite part of the play was when Mama Wheelis was on the phone complaining about hippie Harmony's long hair and bare feet, exclaiming "You know what the bible has to say about that! . . . Well, it's in Corinthians . . . 1st or 2nd, I don't know!" Cluck turned to me and said it sounded like one of her relatives; I responded with the name of my own relative it reminded me of. It's always interesting to me just how much of a person's personal history and cultural background goes into the enjoyment of a show, and this one was no exception.

Overall, I enjoyed the play; yes, there were some bugs, and it definitely made me pine for the days when I had a season pass to OSU's drama department which always put on some danged fine plays, but as far as an evening of free entertainment goes, it was definitely worth the time.

The Wheel Weaves as the Wheel Wills

I just found out that Robert Jordan, author of the bestselling Wheel of Time series, has been diagnosed with primary myloidosis with cardiomyapathy, a condition with a pretty grave prognosis if untreated. Jordan seems optimistic that the treatments will work, and I think we all know that a good attitude is paramount in recovering from any illness. So, here's some positive thoughts and prayers sent his way, to help offset all of the "Oh, crap, is he going to finish the series before he croaks?" thoughts which this news is sure to conjure (yes, I had them as well).