May 2005 Archives

In the lobby of our network, we have a ticker. You know, one of those scrolling-word strings of light that usually have such things as the current weather, stock prices, or news headlines. Ours scrolls across three walls of the lobby, and being a comedy network, it usually has random jokes, show quotes, news about funny holidays, or birthday messages.

This week, the girl who maintains the ticker is on vacation. While she's gone, she has a couple of generic messages rolling along the walls. I can't criticize her for using evergreen content. As someone who's responsible for daily updates of a major website, I'm always looking for ways to cut down on my workload. My only problem with the ticker is that it's currently broken.

It apparently went down the day after the girl in charge of it left. Now, it only shows the bottom half of the letters. The messages look less like English words and more like Chinese symbols. It makes no sense at all.

But, being obsessive-compulsive like I am, I can't help but stare and try to figure out what the letters are saying. It's hypnotic--and frustrating. What is it trying to tell me?

Come back, ticker girl, before I lose my mind.

Although I'm usually up on the latest porn sites, I somehow missed beautifulagony.com. Maybe that's because it's not exactly porn. It's a site totally devoted to masturbation, but only filmed from the shoulders up.

The site's creators claim beautifulagony.com "contains absolutely no nudity whatsoever - yet it may well be the most erotic web site you have ever seen." I'm not sure I agree.

At first glance, I love the site. But the thought of it doesn't exactly turn me on. I think I would find it more fascinating than titillating. I love the idea of being able to see people caught in such an intimate, vulnerable moment. For some reason, however, it's not exactly masturbation material for me. Maybe I'm jaded by the vast amount of Internet porn I've exposed myself to, and need nudity to get a rise. I don't know what it is. I would love to watch more of these vignettes, but I think I'd be watching them without wood. I find the idea of masturbatorial voyeurism curious, but not erotic.

Anyway, don't sign up for a membership on the site just yet. First, check out this compilation of clips (may not be safe for work, it's up to you to decide). It can't be all-encompassing--the actual site has fourteen pages of clips, and this compilation only seems to consist of only a few dozen people. But it's definitely a good sampling, and the editing and music are well done.

Let me know what you think. Without opening a full-on discussion about masturbation, do these videos make you horny or just make you think?

Yeah, I know the title of this post (taken from "Jerk It Out" by The Caesars) is apropo to nothing, but I thought it was way more interesting than the tepid "Monday Musings" that I almost went with.

Anyway, we're back from the anniversary trip, wherein we ate, dranked, and humped like a couple of monkeys. (Oh come on, Alecia, I can say "humped." Anyone who thinks we did otherwise on our one night away from the kids is delusional.) It was wonderful, but not what I would call "relaxing." I honestly feel a little hungover today, even though I've had nothing to drink for at least 24 hours. It's more like a "vacation hangover," and it's making it hard to focus on work.

Another thing that's making it hard to focus today is Bloglines. Seth mentioned this online app to me last week, and I've since become an addict. I was previously using Mozilla's Thunderbird to manage my RSS feeds, but Bloglines is web-based, so it doesn't matter where I access it--which is key, since I regularly use no less than four different PCs over the course of the day. Also, Bloglines is so easy to use and has such a smooth interface that it's actually led me to increase the number of blogs I surf. I used to check out 6-8 blogs on a regular basis. Now, I've increased the number to about 16-18 blogs. Like I said, it makes it hard to focus on my work.

On a sidenote, Bloglines does save me time in at least one area. I'm a frequent Metafilter reader, and I usually get sucked in as much by the commentary as I do the posts. With Bloglines, I'm only viewing the posts (minus the commentary), so I spend much less time on the site. Of course, that time gain is eaten up by the dozen other blogs I've added to my daily routine (including such sites as Fleshbot, Double Viking, and The Absorbascon).

...my wife and I will be hiking the woodlands around Helen, GA, gazing at the natural splendor of the area's waterfalls while holding hands and giggling like teenagers. We're taking an overnight trip to celebrate our second wedding anniversary, and I'm betting a single day out of the house, without the kids, will inject euphoria into our bloodstreams like heroin addicts getting a much-needed fix.

I've never been to Helen, but I understand it's nice, if a little cheesy--a faux German town set high in the Georgia mountains and best known for its Octoberfest traditions and its scenic view. We plan to do some outdoorsy stuff in the morning, followed by lunch and shopping. But I couldn't care less what the day actually has in store for us. I think we'll enjoy just getting to spend time together, not to mention the few meals we'll get to eat as child-less adults. I wonder what it will feel like, being able to have a quiet conversation with the woman I love without a little person crying, throwing french fries, or trying to squirm out of her seat.

And I really wonder what the night will bring. What's it like to make nookie without having to pause every few minutes to quiet a crying baby or return a wandering toddler to her "big girl bed"? It's been years since I've had such a night. By now, I'm so used to interruption and distraction, I may need it to perform.

Anyway, enjoy the weekend, knowing that we're definitely enjoying ours. As long as the in-laws can keep Maddie and Josie alive until we get back, it should go down as one of the best weekends in recent history...

I was going to post today about a news story that was going around our office concering the battle between forty-two midget fighters and a full-sized lion. According to the article, the lion killed twenty-eight midgets and wounded the other fourteen in just twelve minutes of time. No cameras were allowed in the arena, but I was certain that we'd soon see a video--something like this was unlikely to escape capture on film. Although I was sad for the stupid midgets (and for the lion, who would've surely been killed after slaughtering the little people), I was amped to see the footage.

Sadly, the article was a hoax. How depressing. Sure, that means no midget fighters (or lions) were killed, but it also means that the question remains unanswered: who would win in a matchup of forty-two midgets vs. one lion? We may never know.

Similarly, I doubt we'll ever know how many rabid toddlers one man can fight off. Yes, it sounds strange, but there was a massive forum thread a while ago about the topic. The question was raised, "How many little kids could you take in a fight?" As people began to answer and argue, it became clear that the question needed further definition. Soon, they had revised it to be something like "How many children--aged five to seven and of normal height and weight, with no more than basic self-defense training--could one adult male--also of average height and weight, in average physical condition and with no physical handicaps--beat in unarmed combat, assuming that the toddlers would continue fighting until they were either knocked unconscious or killed and would not run away in fear, and that the fighting arena had no walls to back up against or obstacles to interfere with the contest."

Once the perameters were defined, the argument got really interesting. It ended up filling about sixty or seventy pages and got some coverage on sites like Metafilter and Odd News. Sadly, the discussion never yielded a concrete answer to the burning question.

Is man destined to live in ignorance?

In other news, despite my initial dismay at the lack of offerings, my cinnamon-sugar bagel with butter and strawberry jam was quite delicious, thus saving "bagel Friday" from going down in flames.

Saw the new Star Wars movie this morning (Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith). My co-worker, Seth, was kind enough to snag me a pass to a screening one of our sister networks was having, and I couldn't miss the chance to see it before the strange people who've been living in the tent village outside the theater, waiting for the premiere. Are they jealous of me now? Of course. And it feels good, even if they are geeks.

Anyway, I thought the film was "just okay." Without spoiling anything, I really thought the writing was weak this time around, even compared to the other two most recent films. The overarching plot (involving a crooked chancellor trying to sieze power, wipe out the Jedis and woo a new apprentice to the dark side, all at the same time) was solid, but it sometimes seemed as if someone had drawn up a good outline for the movie's plot, then handed it to some hack writers to fill in the dialogue and action sequences that connected the broader events. It seemed like all that mattered was getting from point A (Anakin is a troubled messiah and the Jedis are in power) to point B (the Empire is in control, the Jedis are dead, and Anakin is Darth Vader). Anything in between was inconsequential.

The dialogue was probably the lowest point of the film. Everytime Anakin (Hayden Christensen) and Padme (Natalie Portman) were on screen together, things got really sappy. Their conversations were as cliched as the average buck-fifty greeting card, and there didn't seem to be any real chemistry between the actors. To make matters worse, the oppressive score of the film (all heavy, orchestral rhythms) made even the lightest scene feel weighty and foreboding. I was too lazy to check and see if this was a John Williams score, or if it was just in tribute to the music he did for the original franchise, but whatever it was, it needed to back off a bit.

Also, someone needs to tell George Lucas to ease up on the CGI. He's so fond of his "digital backlot", that Lucas will use CGI to illustrate any sequence. Even when the action could have been performed more realistically by a stuntman on wires, they'll just pan back and use digital versions of everything in the scene. Some of that is fine, but we're not so advanced in this technology that it doesn't look at least a little fake when overused to this excess.

Finally, I think Lucas tried too hard to throw the fanboys some bones and/or explain some less intuitive events. What I mean by the first point is that there were a lot of "cameos" by characters that will eventually be in the second trilogy (or, rather, have already been in it). Characters like Chewbacca appear for about half a scene before disappearing into the ether. A couple of these would be fine, but there's enough of them in this film that you begin to wonder how they're all still together twenty years from now (or whenever A New Hope is supposed to be set).

Per the second point, there's a lot of exposition disguised as dialogue in this film. Everytime a high-ranking person from either side speaks, it's really just to clarify what's occuring off-camera. This gets really old, and starts you wondering when the next litesaber fight is.

My overall review of Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith, if I had to give one, would be somewhere around a three out of five. I thought the movie was entertaining for the most part, had some cool fight scenes and visual effects, and definitely got us where we were supposed to go...to the beginning of Star Wars: Episode V - A New Hope. But the flaws in this film are almost inexcusable, considering Lucas's lengthy career as a successful director. Often, the film seemed to sacrifice tension, drama or realism in favor of rocking out the CGI and showing a cool new battle droid or landscape. And the attempts to lighten the mood of this depressing joint through comedic service droids--while simultaneously beating us down with the heavy music in every scene--is just another sign that Lucas needs someone to reign in his arrogance and make him share the workload on his films. I know the guy thinks he can write, direct, produce, edit, film, whatever his movies may need, but in the end, it all comes out half-baked because there's never anyone to tell him when he's making a bad choice.

Like I said, the movie was entertaining on a surface level. But if it wasn't the final cog in the great machine that is Star Wars, it would be seen as hopelessly average, and would hardly sell any tickets.

First off, I'd like to say "go to hell" to the folks at CBS for scheduling the Survivor finale on a Sunday night, thus tricking my ReplayTV into not recording it. It seems that the TV powers-that-be are doing everything they can to mess with the PVR crowd (odd beginning and ending times, frequent changes in schedule, listing programs without descriptions, running massive amounts of "encores" or repeats without listing them as such). Sooner or later, though, these same networks will have to start programming FOR this type of technology. They estimate that "critical mass" for the PVR world (the point at which they've reached a significant enough saturation to be deemed the dominant tech) will come within 3-6 years. I'm betting it will be closer to the 3-year mark, considering that PVR functionality is already being built into the next generation of set-top boxes being used by some of the nation's largest cable companies. Soon, you'll have PVR functionality in your home whether you want it or not. But for now, the networks play their stupid little games and cause me to miss the finale of a show I've dutifully followed all season. Screw you, CBS! I guess I'll have to find the bittorrent file and download it before someone spoils the ending...

Now that my anger is (partially) assuaged, on to the real point of this post:

I watched The Day After Tomorrow last night. I recorded it at "high" quality a few days ago and watched it all in one sitting, with surround sound. All three are things I rarely do--high quality takes up too much space on the PVR, the wife and kids never let me watch a full movie in one sitting, and the surround sound gets me in trouble by waking the baby. Despite the treat of being able to watch it in such a way, I thought the movie was hopelessly mediocre. The special effects had some highs and lows (high: the flooding of NYC, low: the cartoony CGI wolves), the acting was bland (I expect more from Jake Gyllenhaal, if not from Dennis Quaid), and the plot went nowhere.

The thing that was most interesting to me was finally being able to join the debate swirling around the "science" of the film. When the movie was released, there were countless articles and interviews about whether or not such a cataclysmic event could happen. Some members of the scientific community were actually quite miffed at the bad science and errant facts presented in the movie. After watching it, my opinion is that it was much ado about nothing. There were no facts presented in the movie! There was no science! The film's writers tried to explain the storms and the apocalyptic events as best they could, but there was better logic and scientific theory to be found in the horrendous The Core.

What was the scientific community so upset about? This movie was pure sci-fi. Were they worried that the masses would see this film, then run out and stock up on water and toilet paper and barricade themselves indoors while they waited out the oncoming, earth-shattering storm? They might as well worry that people will buy up all the world's chocolate bars looking for a golden ticket after Charlie and the Chocolate Factory comes out. Yes, the science in this film is bad. That's where suspension of disbelief comes in. You have to choose to buy into the plot while watching the film. It's not believable upon close examination, but few films are.

Anyway, the movie was sort of a letdown in that sense. I expected to see something that made me think. Something to make me wonder if such a storm really could (and would) happen. But the film wasn't all that smart, and had very little basis in reality. Not worth arguing over, even if you're the most bored science geek around.

Some people like to gamble,
But you, you always lose.
Some people like to rock 'n' roll,
you're always singin' the blues.
You gotta nasty disposition,
No one really knows the reason why,
You gotta bad, bad reputation,
Gonna hang your head down and cry...

chorus:
You got bad, bad luck
Bad, bad luck
You got bad, bad luck
Bad, bad luck

Thirteen's my lucky number,
To you it means stay inside.
Black cat done crossed my path,
No reason to run and hide.
You're looking through a cracked mirror,
No one really knows the reason why.
Your enemies are gettin' nearer,
Gonna hang down your head and cry...

chorus:
You got bad, bad luck
Bad, bad luck
You got bad, bad luck
Bad, bad luck

Some people go to church on Sundays,
others they pray at home.
You tell them that there ain't no God,
that they're better off standin' alone.
You're always scratchin' at the eight ball,
No one really knows the reason why.
You get to the top and then you fall,
Gonna hang down your head and cry.

Bad Luck by Social Distortion

Why is it that Mexican music sounds eerily similar to German polka music?

They both use the same rhythms, instruments (horn section, accordian, cowbell), and styles. The only thing different is the language.

It cracks me up when I hear my teenaged Mexican neighbor cruise up in his pimpmobile with the old school Meximusic blaring loudly. I remember when I was young, I blasted my music as a way of showing the chicas that I was cool. It was a personal statement.

What kind of statement is this muchacho trying to make? Do Mexican girls really go for that kind of music? Would he have more girlfriends if he blasted a little Nelly or Usher through his speakers?

UPDATE: Apparently, there's a logical reason for this similarity. I guess I'm not crazy, after all. (And not the first person to think German and Mexican music sound the same.)

While driving to work this morning, I almost got killed by a guy who ran a red light. But this isn't a post about road rage. I almost get killed about twice a week, as does anyone else who drives in Atlanta. We're a city of five million people with no reliable public transportation, so there are way too many bad drivers on the road. It's old news.

No, this is actually a post about the bumper stickers on the back of the truck that almost killed me.

One of them said something weak like "got ammo?" Another stated the slightly confusing "I don't fucking CARE how you do it up NORTH!" But the third one was the one that got me thinking. It said something to the tune of "Guns kill people? Yeah, and it's the spoon's fault Rosie O'Donnell's fat."

Har har, NRA. You got us there.

Although I'm a big fan of action movies and grew up playing "guns" with the kids in the neighborhood (or playing with gun-wielding action figures), I've never been a fan of the real thing. I didn't grow up in a big area for hunters, though my dad did own a shotgun and went deer hunting exactly twice during my childhood. And nobody I know, whether a gun owner or not, has ever been in a situation where having a firearm within reach would've bettered their plight. So I just didn't see a need for guns.

Even worse, many years ago I got to see, firsthand, the tragedy guns can bring. When I was still in high school, my mom had to go to a funeral for the son of one of her former co-workers. Since my dad was out of town, I went with her. The dead boy was about thirteen years old, and had died from an accidental shooting. He was showing a friend his dad's pistol, which he had quietly snuck out of a box in the closet, and he shot himself in the head. Being at that funeral--watching his family wail and weep over the senseless loss--brought the issue of gun control home for me instantly.

That's not to say I would ever stop a sane and responsible citizen from owning a gun. I think it is a person's right to hunt or to shoot recreationally. But if I were in charge of the nation, I'd work my ass off to make sure there was a mandatory waiting period and safety course involved with buying a gun, that people were responsible for keeping their firearms safe (as in people should pay a hefty fine if theirs gets lost or stolen), and that nobody would be able to legally buy automatic weapons. I have no problem with you owning a gun. I do have a problem if you buy it without a proper background check and delay (to allow the angry people to calm the hell down), if you keep it in an unlocked area, or if you keep the kind of weaponry on hand that's better for piercing armor than hunting deer. I have a wife and two kids that I cannot and will not live without. And irresponsible gun owners aren't protecting my rights as much as they're endangering my family.

So for the asshole with the bumper stickers, I hope your valued firearms are under lock and key, that you had to jump through hoops to get them, and that you know how to use them correctly.

But if you shoot as well as you drive, I fear we're all in trouble.

It's been another whole week between entries. Despite my New Year's resolution about posting more, real life has caught up to me. And I can already see that the conflict between real life and blogging is only going to get worse. We returned from a wedding this past weekend, and that was just the beginning of a long stretch of "special events." Over the next five or six weeks, we have our wedding anniversary, my wife's ten-year high school reunion, Mother's Day, my wife's birthday, Father's Day, my brother's birthday, and the potential closing on the home we may or may not be buying.

In other words, if there is anyone out there who's actually reading this, be patient. I'm writing when I can.

Of course, while I take on the duties of doting daddy and loving husband, the real world moves on. Here are just a few of the events that have happened of late:

• The Catholic Church appointed a new Pope. It didn't take them long to make the controversial choice and pick a guy known as "Cardinal Rottweiler." He's a guy who's supposedly a stickler for papal policy. In other words, an old-school Catholic, who won't give any quarter to gays or non-traditional family units. Yay. As a former Catholic, I can't help but think that the church couldn't have made a worse choice. They're already having trouble appealing to the next generation--what will a 78-year-old grouch do for their numbers?

• The Indiana Girl got eliminated from America's Next Top Model. I was happy to see a hometown girl make the show this season, but even I have to admit that Michelle wasn't Covergirl material. She was loveable, if a little crazy, and she gave it her all. But she wasn't all that pretty, all things considered. In fact, none of the current contenders are all that hot. Any of last season's final three could've beaten any of this season's finalists. Naima seems like she'll walk away with the competition, but even she has some major flaws.

• I lost all my hair, and it grew back. Okay, I didn't lose my hair, I shaved it off. And it hasn't all grown back, but it's well on its way. I was trying to keep it bald, but it was just a big pain. I had to shave it every two or three days, and I don't even shave my face that often. Plus, I got a stupid sunburn, and that made it considerably less fun. So I'm letting it grow back--assuming it even will. Maybe by the time I have a full head of hair again, I might've lost a few pounds, as well. It would be a nice change.

• The Bachelor jumped the shark. I know I mentioned before that 24 might be about to jump the shark (and it still looks that way), but The Bachelor is already there. This season's bachelor, Charlie O'Connell, is basically the modern incarnation of Kato Kaelin--a nobody who's attained fame through his relationship with a more successful somebody. He can be pretty funny at times, but it's hard to tell if you're laughing with him or at him. Either way, he's no prize, which really makes the battle for his heart seem stupid.

• That crazy bride from Atlanta showed up in Albequerque. Yeah, I could look up her name, but I don't think she's worth the effort. (For similar reasons, I won't be looking up the correct spelling of "Albequerque.") So she got scared and ran, huh? Dude, look at her eyes. In every picture, she had that deer-in-headlights look, like she's always totally freaked out. And you couldn't see this coming? And now you've forgiven her and want her back? Dude.