Thursday, May 22, 2003

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Random house is publishing a new book about Alex Ross's work with text by Chip Kidd.

Mel Report:

Mel is okay. He was a little jumpy last night during Idol, but he settled down when I got him up on the couch with me. I am taking him to the vet tomorrow to be boarded while we sail off to Houston. I will miss him. He is my buddy and I don't like to think of him being scared at night around all those strange dogs. He will take several tennis balls and BooBoo for comfort. I will also try and select a blanket that I will no longer care about. Poor guy. I hope he does okay.

Anyway, have a good Memorial Day and try not to remember that in 1998, this was the Holiday which brought us Godzilla. Actually this picture is deceptively cool. Do not be fooled by it. This movie stinks.
Here's some good news, I think. Tim Burton says he might direct a remake of Willy Wonka.

WARNING: The blog post below has links to some family-unfriendly fare.

Jim D. suggested I post about www.pornolize.com

And I did, and then I pulled most of the post back down. I mean, it's pretty self-explanatory. Go to town, kids.

Victory for the Big Man

I am a Big Man. I am around 6'5" and retain a consistent panda bear shape. I made it to my black belt at this weight, and I assure you, in a contest of survival, I could kill you and eat you. You would not stand a chance. These are the advantages of being a Big Man.

A small victory for the Big Man occured this evening when American Idol's Ruben Studdard became the Season 2 American Idol. I hope he celebrates with a 72 oz. steak and a tup of cool whip. God Bless America.

Wednesday, May 21, 2003

So I don't think it's a secret that I watch Smallville each and every week. Jamie complained last night at the end that she doesn't like several aspects of the show anymore, but I'm kind of digging it more than ever. For those of you who do not watch, Smallville is a show about the weekly events in the life of a young Superman. The gag is, he's not Superman yet, he's just a farm kid named Clark Kent. Last season was kind of goofy and faux-X-Filesish. They had a freak of the week, blah blah blah... But in order to set up of drama that would attract 14 year old girls, in some ways, Smallville has become more Archie than Superman.

Clark = Archie
Lana = Veronica
Chloe = Betty
Pete = Jughead
Jonathan = Pop
Lex = Reggie
Lionel = Mr. Lodge

Anyway, this season they jettisoned the super villain of the week premise and are going for over-arching story-arcs around Clark being an alien. Christopher Reeve made an appearance, Terence Stamp played the voice of Jor-El. And Red K made an appearance like 3 times.

I also watched the final contest on American Idol (hits! hits! hits!, c'mon hits!) If i could have gotten through last night, my vote would have gone to Ruben Studdard. Look, Clay is a nice guy, i am sure, but he also sings the kind of music I grew up hating in a fashion that I grew up absolutely loathing. He's Richard Marx, he's Rick Astley, he's an even less soulful Simply Red, he's a young Michael Bolton (that no-talent ass-clown). He falls beautifully into the category of non-threatening boy, but I'm not looking for who I want to make out with.

American Idol is not devoid of talent. To say that the singers are completely untalented or unskilled would be unkind and unfair. American Idol's greatest downfall is that the music sucks. Really. These are brainless pop tunes for a void and negative industry which can't figure out why nobody buys records anymore and still puts out Jessica Simpson albums. The contestants on the show dig the music (most of the selections which drifted into audial wall-paper decades ago), which does make you sincerely question their taste. Free to steer their own course of destiny, surely these singers would sail headlong into the rock of Gibraltar. That said, the generic, vanilla music used on the show means that, by default, no matter what the performers do on the show, they're only making things suck slightly less with even the best performance. The fact that she picked occasional rock tunes instead of another weepy ballad was what kept Nicky in last years competition for so long. She was a talentless stripper-dork, but she was using Stevie Nicks songs, so it was at least it was INTERESTING compared to yet another Whitney Houston syrupy blather, even when Nicky butchered the vocals.

Clay does his best, but he's putting varnish on plywood. Ruben is slightly better, at least coloring the plywood, but I can't get over him singing Sweet Home Alabama. It doesn't matter. All of these people have contracts now or in the future. I just want to see all the crepe paper fall from the ceiling tonight when somebody wins and Ryan Seacrest celebrating having the easiest job in the world.
Jim sent me this. I need to learn to appreciate the good stuff I've got.
Just Laura has been added to the League. Check out her sunnyside up take on Sea - Addle. I do not know her anymore than I know RANDY T., but thru the crazy webs Jim Dedman weaves, we'll all be linking to one another soon.

Interesting article here

Rummy is now petitioning for testing of new and cooler nuclear weapons. Apparently the weapons Rummy is looking to proliferate and thereby encourage other nations to build is a weapon which would somehow seek out WMD in their secret underground bunkers. I guess that's where he still is guessing Iraq's weapons went. The plan is to drop these magically useful weapons on nations which bury their WMD, say, in the middle of a city, making the weapon, say, useless. Or is it? And, hey, if you're wrong, who the heck knows? because nobody is going to wander into an irradiated area to find out if they got the right spot.

What an evil, evil fuck.

Tuesday, May 20, 2003

CORRECTION: My wife (AKA: The Killjoy) has brought to my attention that I am an illiterate boob and that it's 1 in 5 pre-teens who are having sex. Now society is going to say this is wrong, and I find myself hard pressed to disagree with society. Mostly out of spite, I'll admit, because when I was 13 and wearing stained Coca-Cola shirts and working to take 1st chair in the Canyon Vista Middle School Honor's Band Tuba Brigade, curiously, nobody wanted to climb Mt. Steaner.

Teens want to have sex! WOW! The study says it's 1 in 5, but as I recall, as far as the guys I knew in high school, it was 5 in 5. Guys who said they didn't were 1) lying or 2) already having sex or 3) thought I was offering when I asked "are you interested in sex?"

You know, we've got at least two wars going on, Eastern Europe to police and one crazy fat toad man ranting in the DPRK about nuclear annihalation, and CNN has this posted as a headline. Sigh. Didn't the Kinsey Report come out 50 years ago? And why is CNN just finding all of this out now?

Uncle Ry's Helpful Hints:

Uncle Ry wishes a report like this had been released when HE was in high school. In an effort to help you kiddies out there who look to your Uncle Ry for guidance, we've provided a helpful synopsis of what you should take away from this very complicated report:
Look for the girls who smoke cigarettes either behind the school or in their cars on the way to school. These girls are much, much more fun than the girls at the prayer meetings or who volunteer in the library. The girls who smoke will save you a LOT of trouble in the long run.

And in a moment of weirdness, my ex-roommate's husband has gotten some real-estate on Ain't It Cool News with a film he's working on about a guy with elephantitus of the gonads. I just lived with her, I claim no responsibility for she or her husband.

Monday, May 19, 2003

MIRACLE MONDAY

I took out the Miracle Monday image. For some reason it's been totally causing problems with loading the page.

Apparently today is Miracle Monday. Miracle Monday has disappointingly little to do with Mel Brooks or even Gregory Hines. Rather, Elliot S! Maggin wrote a Superman comic which took place in the future (let's say in 5902), and followed up with a "novel" which you can buy online. Miracle Monday is kind of like Passover, except instead of waiting for a prophet, you set a place at your table for Superman to show up. In the year 5902 crime, war, poverty and poor hygiene have all been eradicated thanks to Superman's influence in the 21st Century, but Superman disappeared, so he's supposed to be returning on "Miracle Monday." Like, you know, Passover or Easter or Festivus or something.

Okay, I like my comics, but this is kind of creepy even to me. Of course I find Groundhog's Day creepy, so obviously it doesn't take much to shake me. Anyhow, Good Miracle Monday, as they say in 5902. Have some nachos and make a plate for the Man of Steel.
Interesting. The BBC and other foreign press have been talking a great to-do about Private Lynch's rescue from an Iraqi hospital. It seems that the actual circumstances of Lynch's liberation are a mystery, wrapped in enigma, smothered in secret sauce. When Lynch was heroically rescued from the Iraqi hospital, CNN and other sources stated that a diversionary force was sent in, and was under fire. BBC says now that possibly things may have not been quite as heroic as they were portrayed (there have been reports that there was no actual firefight and possibly blanks were used). From my personal recollection of the video footage, I recall gunfire in the background, but I'm also as reliable as a Firestone tire, so take that as you will. Also, note the dismissive farewell the US anchor drops at the end of the interview.

Ever since CNN ran a story about how the photos Bush used at the UN of nuclear basis in Iraq were fakes, I've been a bit jittery.

Sometimes I miss Hoover.

It was only a matter of time...

And in an amazing bit of restraint for Hollywood, I was amazed to read this very candid explanation today of why the Mr. Show movie "Run, Ronnie, Run" had never been released.

I've added a new phrase to my vocabulary: Recreational Shopping. It's something I've done for years, but Arizona has brought out the bored consumer within me. Today's little spree ended in the purchase of two new screwdrivers (I lost my standard flathead and philips... most curious), a pack of scredriver heads for my power-drill (all Craftsman, of course), and a package of blue socks (from Target). I think I got away okay this time, and I actually needed all of these items (well, the screwdriver heads I might need one day in the future...). Past excursions have ended in the purchase of Playstations, metal cats, and a remote controlled car that runs into a robot with the push of a button.

It finally broke 100 degrees this weekend in The Valley of the Sun. When I moved here last June 1st and it was 104 degrees, I kept asking everyone "when will it end?" "Sometime around Halloween," they'd say, and the week of Halloween it cooled off. Since then, everything's been peachy. But no longer. Sol took to the sky and began cooking my chubby little innards around Thursday afternoon. I now have the next 5 months to stew in my own juices. Mel was devastated by the change, and keeps forgetting it's hot out. He runs outside, then immediately returns to the door. It's going to be a long summer.

On Friday I am returning to Houston for a whirlwind trip in which I will be celebrating my mother's retirement. She's taking a well-deserved break after teaching public school for the past 30 years. The actual start date is earlier, but she took a few years off to give birth to my brother and myself, and to ensure her littercould read as well as bone and skin our own kills. She received her degree from Northern Michigan University and her masters from Univ. of Florida. Her first job in Florida coincided with the desgregation of schools in Florida, and her final job has been teaching a bunch of little goobers at Kaiser Elementary in Klein ISD, Texas. I salute my mum for putting up with the world's second most thankless job (after Distance Learning manager, which I ASSURE you is a labor of love and not money). She's a hell of lady, and she's seen more kids learn their ABCs than you can shake a stick at. My old man, being the capitalist raider he is, has been kept from becoming a corporate monster by her good deeds in the classroom and for the other 6 hours a day of job-related hoo-hah she's done for the past thirty years. I am proud to say that this year she won the award for Teacher of the Year for her school. We should all be so lucky to have a teacher like my mom. Unless it's the middle of July, and you're on the porch doing math homework assigned to "keep you frosty until school starts" while all the neighbor kids are watching the A-Team and enjoying ice cream.

If you'd like to e-mail my mum to congratulate her on her retirement and to thank her for her tireless work in the classroom, you can do it here: ksteans@kleinisd.net