Not much to report, and I'm not feeling particularly creative today.

Now Jamie is down with my cold from last week. She's trying to be a trooper, but, man... bad colds just ruin you. Not being able to breathe is a total drag.

My brother (Adventures of Steanso) is headed off to New Orleans for Jazz Fest. It's sort of a big roving party across New Orleans as near as I can tell. He's wanted to go for years, so I wish him luck. His legal scheming only works in Texas, so he must be more careful than usual in the great state of Louisiana.

I'm finally back at work. I feel like I haven't been there much lately as one of us is always sick. Luckily, it's not my busy time, and I've been there long enough to be familiar with the ebb and flow of some of the stuff which used to give me hives.

I was reading Maxwell's recent entry regarding her struggle with a prose work she's dealing with outside the world of blogging and her online public persona. Sounds like she's tearing herself up working on thsi thing, and I think that's a good sign. If writing were easy, we'd all be reading Golden Girls scripts.

It got me to thinking about a prose bit I mess with once in a blue moon. I started work on it in roughly 1996 or so. School, work, marriage and smelly dogs have all conspired against me to keep me from ever really completing the thing. Let alone getting past the turning point for Act I.

I am most certainly struggling with many of the issues Maxwell describes (albeit, in no way in such a colorful manner as Maxwell), but just hearing her describe the specifics of what she's struggling with informs me that her story already sounds much, much better than my own. And while that drives me mad with jealousy, after following her NYC based adventures, learning maxwell is crafting what sounds like a fantastic story comes as no real surprise. She can write, she can.

I confess that I have often pondered how much further along I might be with the prose-thing if I spent an 1/4th of the time on the prose-thing as I spend entertaining you jerks. In addition, thanks to the the extremely long period of time I've spent dinking with this nonsense, I've been in an odd situation of passing from goofy college-guy to goofy working-guy, all while working on the same tale.

Experience has provided me with a wider view of the world, which certainly helps to color characters and situations in a different hue. But "maturity" (or whatever you want to call it) also makes you take a step back and look at what you wrote, and wonder "Did I really think that? Was that a situation I would ever write today?" So in a lot of ways, I'm glad I started when I did. And I'm glad I have a different perspective to bring to the table than I did in 1996, 1997 or whenever I first started.

I like to think it's all about character motivation when you're trying to tell a story. You can't tell any story without knowing exactly what every character in every scene is looking for or wants. It's not just a nifty acting tip, it's what writes your dialog for you, it's the weirdness that occurs when you hear writers saying "I don't know. The characters just started talking to me and acting on their own."

It's probably the number one thing to drive me beserk when I'm watching a movie or television program (because I don't think it happens nearly as much in books or plays as those are usually written by a single person). The verisimilitude is broken when characters simply act, but not in a way which serves their stated motivation. Especially when that act is a lynch-pin for carrying a story forward... ugh. Really, I think series television such as X-Files, Smallville, etc... are probably the worst offenders, but that's due to a bullpen of writers and changing technical staff week after week.

But after this extended period, it's tough to remember the motivations I started with, especially as you start imagining lumping in story element after story element. And unlike writing a screenplay, narrative economy is not the watchword in prose. Nor should it be. But it's also tough to balance what is necessary story, what is interesting flourish, and what is a precious baby you dreamed up which you're going to have to kill to make sure the story keeps moving. Prose certainly gives you more of an opportunity to keep those darlings around, but it's tough to know when you're really enhancing and when you're just babbling.

Like most writers who aren't real writers, I've flatly refused to allow anyone to read the damn thing as I'm an overprotective freak, and I take criticism only so well. Jamie looked it over, but she knows she has to live with me, so she's got to be nice.

So two weeks ago I handed the thing over to Steanso, who cares not a lick for my feelings, and who is going to know best where I'm going with the whole thing without a treatment or outline in his hand.

His review?

"Dude, I keep sitting down to read it and then I fall asleep."

Not exactly inspriring, but it speaks volumes. I have not written a gripping tale, but he's a nice enough guy to at least TRY to finish reading the pages.

I do await his comments, because it's worth knowing whether or not what you've slogging away on is tolerable to the average literate mammal. You can't take a little comment like "and then I fall asleep" to heart. You have to find out WHY he's falling asleep. And then decide if it's worth fixing or wandering off to move on to a different project (I've always wanted to try widdling).

I should say: Jason is also known to take his sweet-assed time to do everything, from returning movies to reading your latest opus. And if you can't take the honest word of your own brother, Sweet Christmas... who can you listen to?

I'll probably continue after hearing his input. At this point, I feel almost a biological need to push this mutant baby out. But one thing I learned in school, you can't just write in a vaccuum and assume your words drip with genius. You need brutally honest folks around who aren't afraid to tell you exactly why you suck. You need to listen, decide if what the critic is saying is worth a damn, or if they brought their own troubles to your work, and then move forward.

And sometimes, you need to realize you might not be the genius you thought you were and move on with your life.

Anyhoo, this has turned into a fine little entry.

In other news, despite a luke-warm performance, The Phoenix Suns are once again victorious. But they have to start playing real defense if they plan to finish this series, let alone succeed in the next round.

In a fascinating turn of events, Maxwell has stumbled into the weird, wicked world of the internet and current events.

Check out this most recent entry from Cowgirl Funk.

BATMAN BEGINS NEW TRAILER

Hey, kids...

MTV.com has a new trailer up for Batman Begins. The trailer is only Windows Media. So get out your Bill Gates emulators, Mac Users.

Read up on the movie and view the trailer here.

Thank God Batman didn't have to go up against Wesley Willis. We all know how that turns out.

In other Bat-related events... after the Rockets victory last night I attempted to watch the 1949 serial of Batman and Robin, which i re-joined Netflix specifically to check out. That, and I want to see House of Flying Daggers without paying full price for a DVD.

Let me begin by saying: The suit worn by Batman in this serial isn't nearly as menacing as it is sort of adorable. It looks like it was made by a second grader. Instead of Bat-ears, Batman sort of has these goofy cloth pegs coming off of his head. "Menacing" was clearly not the direction they were headed. You can't really get the full effect without seeing Batman in profile.


Batman and Robin ponder moving their secret headquarters out of a cave and into the sunroom out back

Also, it becomes painfully clear in the first fight scene how unweildy capes would be in an actual fist-fight.

I am not sure I have the stamina to make it through all 15 chapters of this epic. After all, each chapter is quite a bit longer than I figured on. Nonetheless, it is an interesting bit of archival Bat-fun, and the serial is closer to the comics of the time than I would have guessed.

The guy who plays Bruce Wayne is pretty good and certainly looks the part. His convenient excuse whenever he needs to slip away and become Batman? "I'm quite tired." The frequency with which he uses the excuse would, in today's world, have Bruce's friends insisting he receive treatment for chronic fatigue syndrome.

The plot revolves around a mad-scientist type called "The Wizard" who is using an amazing device which can control any vehicle by remote. He's using it, of course, to steal diamonds, which the machine needs to run (no explanation given on how that works, but it is also, coincidentally, the same way Mr. Freeze's Cold-Suit works). So, The Wizard has his machines and minions out stealing diamonds in order to make sure the machine will run. Circular logic, I assure you, but the Wizard seems to have something even more sinsiter up his sleeve.

The girl who plays Vicki Vale is a cute, spunky photographer who, we are told, suspects Bruce is Batman, but doesn't get suspicious when he, say, dumps her off on the roadside after hearing an explosion, saying he must go catch a quick nap.

Robin is there, but, honestly, the actor seems either distracted or drunk. He's sort of a goofy looking guy, too, and probably 5-10 years too old to be anybody's ward. He also looks liek he's about to get his ass handed to him every time a fight scene breaks out.

Anyway, it's all in good fun.

So today sucked.

Lucy is having tummy trouble, and so I had to take her once again to the vet. I'm several hundred bucks out after an X-ray, medicine, blah blah blah...

And that's the tough thing about puppies. You can't ask them what's wrong, you just have to sort of hope the vet can put all the pieces together. Anyway, the x-ray came back fine, which means she didn't eat a rock or something. She's had lab work done, so now I'm waiting for that blood work to come back. Apparently she also had a worm of some sort, so she needed medicine for that.

Man.

She's an expensive little bug.

Anyway, she seems to be doing better, but she's going to spend tonight and tomorrow in her kennel. I'm just a little too overprotective.

Thanks to my second trip to the vet in as many working days, I missed ANOTHER day of work. I hate missing work this much. It's so hard to keep up and make up what you missed.

At least my cold is getting better.

Jim has confirmed Flash Gordon for the movie screenings in Beaumont on July 23rd.

Leaguers, if that can't get you there, I don't know what will.

Honestly, I never saw Flash Gordon until I was in college. And in a lot of ways, I'm glad it took me that long to see it. I think it took a little perspective for me to really just sit back and enjoy that flick.

Anyway, 2:12 left in the Dallas/ Houston play-off game #2 in Dallas. No surprise I'm pulling for Houston. Although Sura still bugs me for some reason. Why is that?

Oh, and there was an ad on during the game for some cellular service, and Top Notch Burger from Burnet in Austin was in the ad. They framed the shot so you couldn't tell it was in the middle of suburbia and were suggesting, if you are at Top Notch, you can't get cellular service. I suppose it doesn't matter that they picked an Austin landmark in the rest of the country, but it did throw me off. Hope I catch the commercial again, because I couldn't figure out where the next shots were done.

Damn, this game won't end. Time-outs never feel this long at the actual game thanks to the Gorilla and the cheerleaders and whatnot.

2.2 seconds left, and T-Mac made an incredible shot. Will Avery Johnson just punch Van Horn in the head? I would.

Ha ha... I hate Mark Cuban. What a dork.

Here's his blog.

Hey, the Rockets won! Dallas is sad. Perhaps the ball on Reunion tower will quit spinning. I went there once when I was six. My parents kept giving me shrimp. I love shrimp.

T-Mac is hilarious. He always looks bored, even when he's destroying Mark Cuban's good humor. Oh, happy Houston fans still hanging out with dejected Dallas fans.

Yao kicked ass tonight. He is a happy genetic freak.

Hurray, Rockets!

So, this past week will surely go down in my personal history as The Week of General Annoyance and Chaos.

Returning home from last weekend's wedding, I felt a bit drained. Tuesday by lunch, I pretty much knew I was not going to make it to work on Wednesday (especially when, in the middle of sentences, my throat would sort of quit making noises, and I sounded like someone was turning my personal volume up and down).

Wednesday I stayed home, tried to take it easy, and generally felt pretty lousy.

Thursday I went to work, felt awful, skipped out early and I have no idea what I did or said Monday, Tuesday or Thursday while I was in the office.

Thursday night around 4:30 a.m., Lucy began hacking with a horrible cough. She's a puppy, and, naturally, I totally wigged out. But at the same time, my vet's office doesn't even open until 8:00, and aside from the hacking cough, she seemed fine. "It's Kennel Cough," Jamie and I decided and went back to bed to try to sleep.

At 8:00 I finally got ahold of the vet, got an appointment for 11:30, realized I was still pretty sick, and flopped on the couch.

By 9:30, Lucy was now no longer coughing. She was just hopping about in the yard looking happy as a clam.

At 11:10 I tossed her in the portable kennel and got her to the vet. The only coughing she would do was when she would pull too hard on her collar. "Oh, it's kennel cough," they said. Told me it's viral, sucks to be me, and told me to wait it out. I got an anti-biotic (in case it wasn't viral) and was told to give my puppy robitussin. Seriously.

Lucy hasn't coughed since.

That didn't keep her from crying for no reason at 12:00 Friday night, which got her butt kicked outside until the next morning.

Saturday Jamie got up before me, made pancake batter, woke me up, told me it was pancake time. We had lovely pancakes.

I was still sipping my tea when she leaped up and began cleaning the dishes. After washing and drying the large, class cutting board, she took a sharp left turn from the sink to put the cutting board onto the island and turned directly into the open dishwasher door. This has the effect of putting a massive hole in her leg that was gross and bloody.

To her credit, 1) Jamie put the cutting board down square on the counter. 2) She never yelled, or cried or passed out. And believe me, this gash was worth yelling, crying and passing out about.

Long story short, we lost Saturday at the emergency room while Jamie got sutures in her leg to make sure she didn't unravel like a cheap sweater.

After we got back from the ER, we more or less took it easy.

Last night we saw Kung Fu Hustle, which is, Leaguers, the best entertainment for your dollar in the cinema at this moment. Great action, very funny, and a pretty good story.

I never saw Kill Bill (either Vol. 1 or 2), and I sort of got the feeling that the scenes with Lucy Liu must have lifted bits from Kung Fu Hustle. If anyone has seen both movies, let me know.

The day, today, went fine. Ran some errands. Bought some pants (khaki and olive) and a belt (black, leather, gold finish belt buckle) and an official Amare Stoudemire jersey I found on sale for half off.

And how did this come in handy? Leaguers, Mr. and Mrs. League spent this glorious evening witnessing Game 1 of Round 1 for the Phoenix Suns in the 2005 NBA Play-Offs.

Boo-yah.

The Grizzlies played a good game, but just didn't have it in them to defeat the mighty Phoenix Suns in this game. Game 2 might be another story. Tonight, however, The Suns landed a 114-103 win.

(What the @%$& happened to the Spurs, man? Let me tell you, The Purple Palace went beserk when they heard that score announced.)

Sadly, our seats were surrounded by many more children this time than the previous game, and some sweet, white haired ladies two rows down, so I felt compelled to self-edit before shouting at the refs, Grizzlies, and the Gorilla.

And, before you ask... no, the half-time show was not the Blues Bothers again. But, they did keep a theme of blue. This game had The Blue Man Group at half-time. These guys were actually pretty fun. Unfortunately, nobody will ever get me to pay for Blue Man tickets in the future now that I have seen them more or less for free.

Anyhow, my voice is gone and I'm still in a good mood, despite my otherwise jacked-up week.

Suns in the play-offs. Hurray!

Even in comics, hindsight is 20/20.

You guys should check out this blog. Thanks to Shoemaker for sending the link.

One of my birthday gifts was a DVD of what is sure to be an instant classic, "The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra."

People, I can't recommend this movie enough. Thrills, chills and spine-tingling adventure.

And in the world of politics, Jamie sends this one along.

SUPERMAN RETURNS SUPERSUIT REVEALED

Well, we all knew it was going to come down to the costume. It looks great in cartoons in animation, but in real life, it can be a bit... uh... well.

Anyway, it ain't all bad, but I confess... I am surprised at how brief his briefs are. I was also hoping for a larger "S", but the one they do have is very cool.

And, really... thank God, because I was expecting to see fake muscles or unnecessary bevelling or something somewhere on the suit. But, nope... he just looks... like.. Superman, I guess.

By the way, I dig the "S" belt buckle. If you're going to change something, nice add-on.

I'm also a fan of a bright red on my Superman, but I can appreciate the change.

Whatever. I've seen it now and I didn't laugh out loud when I saw it. And that's something.

Now if the guy in the suit can act (and/ or make me believe he can shoot heat out of his eyes...)

THE LEAGUE INVITES YOU TO ENJOY AN AFTERNOON AND EVENING IN PICTURESQUE BEAUMONT, TEXAS


So I spent today at home sick, but I'll return to work tomorrow.

Since I was not entirely energetic, I spent the day doing a little mental homework by reviewing my Superman: The Movie DVD, and then watching the bonus features.

Why do this again?

Have you forgotten so quickly, Leaguers?

Jim D. has locked in a print of Superman: The Movie, and he's showing it at the beautiful Jefferson Theater in idyllic Beaumont, Texas. The screenings will occur the evening of July 22nd and the afternoon of July 23rd. In addition to the screenings of Superman: The Movie, Jim is also trying to get a print of the 1980 sci-fi extravaganza, Flash Gordon (starring Max von Sydow).


The League does not recommend you try this one at home...

I have some reading and brushing up to do in regards to Superman: The Movie as our own Jim D. has asked The League to blather on for a few minutes before the movie begins. And The League doesn't like being unprepared when we have to look into the impassive eyes of an irritable East-Texas audience.

I think Jim wants for me to plan an amusement or two for the lobby, but short of offering to shave everyone's head in true Lex Luthor fashion, I am not yet sure what to offer.

So what is The League saying?

Loyal Leaguers, book your flights and hotel rooms now, because The League is going to pastoral Beaumont, Texas for about 24 hours. Post-screening, Jim D. has promised the finest food of The East, and that we shall haunt the hippest bar in all of Beaumont until the wee, wee hours.

Sounds like a peach of a plan, and I'm on it.

July 23rd. We'll make it a Super-League weekend in bucolic Beaumont, Texas.

The first 50 Leaguers to show up will receive a punch in the breadbasket from Mrs. League.


The Man of Steel looks on from 50,000 ft. as Mrs. League slugs another Leaguer.

The League has fallen ill, Leaguers. Some yucky hacking and wheezing has accompanied blood coming out of my tear ducts. No, not really. I think I just picked up Cousin Jim's cold a bit during the wedding.

MONKEYS IN THE NEWS

Anyhoo, The League has raised himself from his sick bed with a tale of caution for these egg-head scientists. Have these scientists never borne witness to humanity's final fate?

Oh, when will we learn to quit playing God?


Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, people. Watch and learn...

***UPDATE***

It ain't just egghead scientists trying to use chimps for their own nefarious purposes.

Fellow comic/ monkey enthusiast and blogger Heidi has dug up this article on the Mesa, AZ police department vis-a-vis the use of our simian chums.

Or, cut right to the chase and read the article here.

In celebration of the the election of Benedict the XVI to the Papacy, I give you the lyrics to Ben, by Michael Jackson.

Ben, the two of us need look no more
We both found what we were looking for
With a friend to call my own
I'll never be alone
And you, my friend, will see
You've got a friend in me
(you've got a friend in me)

Ben, you're always running here and there
You feel you're not wanted anywhere
If you ever look behind
And don't like what you find
There's one thing you should know
You've got a place to go
(you've got a place to go)

I used to say "I" and "me"
Now it's "us", now it's "we"
I used to say "I" and "me"
Now it's "us", now it's "we"
Ben, most people would turn you away
I don't listen to a word they say
They don't see you as I do
I wish they would try to
I'm sure they'd think again
If they had a friend like Ben
(a friend) Like Ben
(like Ben) Like Ben

So the Superman Homepage is nuts with pics from the set of Superman Returns.

I am sure they didn't count on the webmaster for the world's largest Superman website to live in the suburbs of Sydney when they shot the movie in Australia.

It sounds as if Bryan Singer has figured out who intrepid webmaster Steve Younis is, and doesn't mind photos being taken. Sure, some things are sort of spoiler-y. But I can't tell you how great it is to see this movie coming together. Especially as what they seem to be doing is surpassing all of my expectations.

In case there was ANY doubt that these movies are sequels to the original Superman movies, check out Brandon Routh as Clark Kent.



For VIDEO of Brandon Routh as CK, go to the source at The Superman Homepage.

Word is that a photo of Routh in full Superman garb will be released soon. And you bet your sweet Aunt Gertie that The League will be here to show it to you.

We are back.

I am very tired. That whole two hour time difference can wreak a small bit of havoc on your schedule.

The wedding was great. I got to be in it and wear a tuxedo and everything. Steanso was also in tux as well, but did not cut so fine a figure as The League.

John B's family came in from parts mid-western and yon, while Julie's family is mostly based out of Houston, so there we got to meet quite a few from both sides. Good folks.

The League thinks dancing is mostly a very silly affair, but was not afraid to cut a rug when Mrs. League hit the dance floor (she is quite a dancer, you should know). The League managed to pull off "The Batusi" without drawing too much attention to himself, but attempts at "The Robot" drew more attention than The League was expecting.

Leaguers, if there is an official dance of League HQ, it is, without a question, The Robot. Yes, yes... Batman has the Batusi and Superman has the Krypton Crawl, but nothing beats the sheer joy of locking and popping to darn near any song.

The League was totally getting into his locking and popping, and was just beginning to get an appreciative audience when the DJ switched songs and chose a very Robot-unfriendly tune to play. Dammit, I had "Brass Monkey" going and a circle of folks clapping to the beat. That hadn't happened since, like, 5th grade. Or my own wedding. Whatever.

I also managed to catch up with John's brother, Jim, and meet his wife. Cool couple. In addition to being a naval aviator, apparently Jim also raises Alpacas in the Nevada wilderness. So if Jim comes down to Phoenix for an Alpaca Show (no, I don't know, either...) I may get to see he and Michelle. And that ain't a bad thing.

Anyway, John and Julie are now safely married. It was a good time had by all. I wsh them the best, even though I know they'll get it anyway. Can't wait to get back to Houston to see them without all this wedding stuff going on.

The League is out for a few days. John B is marrying Julie L in The Woodlands, Texas. The Bros. Steans will be appearing for the wedding, and we'll even be decked out in tux.

I'm very happy for John B. and Julie L. Those too kids deserve the best.

See you guys sometime next week.

In the meantime, Alex Ross is doing one of 2 covers for the release of the first issue of the new Green Lantern comic series.




Hal Jordan! Hal Jordan! Hal Jordan!

The League Grumbles about The End of Youth

I didn't reflect too much on being 30, but here we go.

On the night of my 30th birthday, after Jamie had drifted off to Sleepytime Junction, I was up and reading comics with the TV on.

Although I was not looking at the television, my attention was piqued as the opening bars to Jane's Addiction's 1990 release, Mountain Song, from Nothing's Shocking came from the speakers.

Coors Beer is using Mountain Song in a new commercial.

You can read the press release here, but here's the jist of it.

"Ice City" - Re-edit by Foote Cone & Belding, Chicago
Music: Jane's Addiction "Mountain Song"
Tagline: "Taste the Cold"
Summary: This spot, which was originally created by the Leith Agency and was re-edited by Foote Cone & Belding, shows how a Rocky Mountain cold Coors Light can turn a dreary hot summer day into a wonderful icy-cold experience.

League's editor's note: Yeah. That's what Coors does for me, especially in Houston during the summer, when it's 105 degrees with 95% humidity. It feels just like the snow capped peeks of the Rockies once you get a six pack of Coors in your belly.

I don't really listen to any Jane's Addiction any more. But I did once, and certainly this particular tune was a sort of hallmark song for my teen-age years. The tune is tied up with some good memories and whatnot, and it's not Coors' fault that this sort of diminishes all of that.

Co- opting music is hardly a novel concept. It's not as if songs other people liked weren't used before in order to sell products, or even products I don't personally like. And it's not as if performers I had previously believed weren't pre-disposed to selling their songs for commercials hadn't cashed in before.

Who knows what the amount of cash was that the owners of the song received for use in the Coors commercial? Sure, it's their song, and they can do as they please... It does, however, complete the long journey the band has been taking in consumer acceptance since their initial break-up.

At the time the song was released, the song (and band, and the album) were not favorites of the kids at my school. They could have their Bobby Brown records and Paula Abdul, or whatever. But you wait fifteen years, and while the song certainly has waned in it's preciousness, I find I can still feel protective of it. At one point, it had value and merit.

But that's what happens, I guess. Wait fifteen years and some ad exec just flips through a catalog of songs until he can find a song with a title including the word "mountain" to go along with his "head for the mountains" campaign, cut a check, and that's it. Everybody involved gets a little richer. The ownership you might have felt out of pure emotional attachment doesn't figure in. The dollar almighty speaks louder than that.

I know, I know. None of this is news.

But you start wondering... did the ad exec like this song at some point in their life, too? And if they did, would this be the fate they'd want for the song? An overplayed soundclip timed to pictures of happy frat boys in the mountains? How did they put it? This spot ... shows how a Rocky Mountain cold Coors Light can turn a dreary hot summer day into a wonderful icy-cold experience.

These are the same people who want to make Gene Kelly break dance to sell Volkswagons, and dig up Steve McQueen and make him drive through a corn field to sell Fords... there ain't nothing wrong with it, right? Or, my favorite, taking the images of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, putting sunglasses on them and having them shriek like extreme dudes about the good deals on the local water park.

These were the kids who never played in the woods enough growing up to know that when something is dead you leave it alone, you don't touch, and you move on. You don't pick it up and swing it around just because you can.

In the grand scheme of things, this is way far below my absolute horror at some of my other experiences in disillusionment. This commercial rates that mild sort of annoying feeling that baseball fans probably get when they think about McGwire and steroids.

Part of being an adult, I guess, is finding out that there is really no end to the series of disappointments you'll discover in regards to the ideological high-hopes you established during your formative years. The trauma might come from finding out that was Dad in the Santa suit, it might be that you realize your vote really doesn't count, it might be that the crazy rock band from your youth is now buying sports cars with proceeds from a dumb commercial.

Toys That Should Not Be

Oh, Leaguers... finally a TTSNB which I may actually purchase.

McFarlane Toys/ Spawn has just grabbed a license to make "action figures" of three characters from the 2004 movie "Napolean Dynamite."

Sweet.

Hey, not sure how much you guys care, but there have been set photos and other stuff all over the place from the new Superman movie.

I recommend popping over to The Superman Homepage.

Here's some photos.

Here are some more pics.

here's the logo for the new flick.


shiny..!

Not much time tonight, so I thought I'd go to an idea Steven G. Harms posted not so long ago.

Steven G. Harms recently posted this, and I thought we could have another round of blogger compare/ contrast if you Loyal Leaguers wnat to chime in on your own blogs or in the Comments section.

Basically, Harms is asking: if you could have 6 television personalities sit down at your dinner table, who would you pick and why?

I am assuming he means actors, not characters. He probably also means real humans and not computer generated nor animated ones.

1) John Goodman - This guy has had an interesting career full of artistic highlights in film and odd choices for prime-time programming. He's been around the block a few times as an actor, and I bet he'd be an interesting guy. He never appeared in Pootie Tang.

2) Bob Costas - If there's one guy I routinely ask, "What's up with this guy?", it's Costas. Again, interesting and varied career. And he was willing to be the framing device for Pootie Tang, the best movie of the past ten years.

3) Wanda Sykes - Again with Pootie Tang. Wanda seems like she'd keep the table interesting without becoming caustic.

4) John Stewart - Sure, he wasn't in Pootie Tang, but he should have been. If I couldn't get Stewart, I'd certainly take Colbert.

5) David Cross - Only had a cameo in Pootie Tang, but nonetheless, I'd want him at the table. This was a tough one as I initially began writing "Will Arnett", but between Mr. Show and Arrested Development, I think I have to go with David Cross.

6) James Lipton - Seriously, is there anybody less deserving of their own show than this maniac? Well, maybe Geraldo Rivera. Yet, I can't shake the feeling that Lipton would be just the spice this dinner salad needs. There's nothing like adding someone to your group who has no idea he's insane.

Alternate) Gillian Anderson - Probably has never even heard of Pootie Tang, but I forgive her. She is invited to my table as long as she doesn't mind me staring at her creepily the entire time. She always seems sort of boring in interviews, so I'm not sure what she would bring to the conversation. I just want to stare at her.

Thanks to Randy for first posting his own examples, and then pointing everyone to the "personalize yourself as South Park" link.


The League


Mrs. League


Steanso

First things first:

Everyone congratulate Jill Hermann-Wilmarth. For today is both the 8-month birthday of Arden, and Jill succesfully defended her dissertation. That means Jill is now a doctor. But not the kind of doctor who will ask you to turn your head to the side and cough.

Jill's dissertation was entitled "Various flavors of ice-creams which are pink, oh how I love them." I'm surprised they allowed her to pursue such a track, but after 800 pages, even I believe Jill really loves most flavors of ice cream with a pink hue.

Jill is going off to teach in the greater Kalamazoo area. No, really. She's moving to Kalamazoo, Michigan. Apparently she's going to be bossing a lot of undergrads and grading on an unfair bell-curve. They have a very active ice-cream department at Kalamazoo State.

Secondly:

Thanks to all of you folks who wrote in for the warm birthday wishes. Between the comments section, e-mails and phone calls, The League doesn't feel abandoned at all out here in the desert. We feel truly lucky to have so many good friends out there in internet land. It definitely makes up for the all the angry voices in The League's head.

Thus far it's been a Super Birthday. I've gotten some great gifts, including some great stuff from both the real parents and the add-on parents from Oklahoma. Let's just say I'm that much closer to being a master chess strategist and Guardian of Sector 2814.

Jamie has provided me with two new friends for my birthday. 1) Lucy the Wonderpup, and 2) Mr. B, my new robot buddy. Between the three of us, I am sure we have a sitcom ready to go.

Anyway, thanks once again for the birthday wishes. You Leaguers are the best.


Mr. B says to say "hello..... Wesley."

Thirdly:

If you can find it, you must seek out Clone High. Best cartoon since Futurama.

Really, how many other shows have clones of Ghandi and Abraham Lincoln and a robot butler?

Fourthly

Falconry? You're on. You get the bird, I'll get the dead rats and work gloves.

Big cats at the B&B.

This has such a Jurassic Park/ Westworld vibe to it, I am waiting only a few months for the tragic follow-up report.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEAGUE!!!

Love, Mrs. League, Melbotis, Lucy, and Jeff the Cat.

Hey, everybuddy - as you know by now the League turns 30 today. YAY! And thus ends the three week period of tormenting Mrs. League about what an old lady she is. Anyway, the League pets have worked up a little dance routine they'll be performing later today and it's a damn shame none of you will get to see it. It includes a grand finale featuring a large slingshot and landing pad for Jeff the Cat. We at League HQ love the League dearly and hope he has a most GRAND DAY!

A special birthday treat from me to you.

Remember the Choose Your Own Adventure books from back in the 80's?

Thanks to the magic of Photoshop, now you can enjoy them all over again.

Mad props to Retrocrush.com for posting the link first.

Madder props to Something Awful for even coming up with this.

Now go forth and Choose Your Own Adventure.

So.

The League turns 30. Can you beat that?

That means I've been on Spaceship Earth for 30 rotations around the sun. 30.

My crazy twenties are officially over. It's all white slacks and white shoes from here on out.

Have I learned anything of value in this time? My friends, I have learned one all important thing: You don't need to tip if it's a buffet, but it's good karma to do so.

And so, on this, my 30th birthday, I turn to David Byrne, who always says it better than me.


Once In A Lifetime


And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful
wife
And you may ask yourself-Well...How did I get here?

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.

And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.

Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...

Water dissolving...and water removing
There is water at the bottom of the ocean
Carry the water at the bottom of the ocean
Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean!

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/in the silent water
Under the rocks and stones/there is water underground.

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.

And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/in the silent water
Under the rocks and stones/there is water underground.

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.

Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...

Warrior Story - Update!

So, if you want to know why The League always has something nice to say about everybody (except Canadians, who eat babies), it's because The League needs money for comics and doesn't need to deal with a terrible libel suit.

Sounds like the groovy website "Something Awful" has gotten into a bit of a snit with Warrior following their coverage of Warrior's recent appearance at UConn.

read more here

Sometimes I miss The Admiral.

I'm on the phone with The Admiral today, and he says, "Ho ho! I hear your brother isn't too excited about them drilling in Alaska! Ho ho!"
And we sort of chatted about environmentalism vs. business for a while, and then we were talking about wind power, and The Admiral says, "But there's got to be something environmentally wrong with wind power, too!" And I said, "Well, I guess folks say those huge windmills kill a lot of birds."
"Windmills!" The Admiral snorted, "What about windows?"
"Excuse me?"
"You can't tell me that more birds get killed by these windmills than by flying into windows."
"No, I guess not."
"I'm against all glass in houses and buildings."
"Screw that! Let's get rid of glass in cars, too!"
"All glass. We'll get slingshots and ball bearings."
"Sir," I saluted, "I am behind your plan."
"But we need to make sure people aren't in the room when we shoot the windows. Those ball bearings will scare the bajeezus out of people."
"Agreed."
Expect to hear soon from The Admiral and myself as take on all transparent glass in the name of our avian brothers.

The Weekend in Review:

All in all, the weekend has been absolutely top drawer.

Friday my mouth finally quit hurting and I managed to eat some oatmeal. Saturday I woke up and the pain was more or less gone. I'm kind of oddly sensitive in the mouth, but nothing too bad.

Last night we went to see the Phoenix Suns play the Houston Rockets at America West Arena. I love going to NBA games, even if I am not following the team. This year I've been following the Suns as closely as possible, and so I was very excited. Or would have been if the Suns hadn't lost to the Warriors the evening before. The League knows a bad omen when he sees one.


Amare goes up against the mighty Yao. Yao rode the bench most of the game after getting four quick fouls. Suns STILL lost.

It should be noted that all NBA games have a wild array of entertainment in addition to the game. At each TV time out, the Suns produce a dude in a gorilla suit who does various tricks, rolls around on a $60,000 motorcycle, and occasionally performs stunts, a la The Houston Rockets' former mascot, Turbo.


The Suns Gorilla has been genetically engineered to have sneakers for feet.

We also had the surgically enhanced Suns Dancers, the dude who played Shaggy in Scooby Doo, and the chubby guy from Kangaroo Jack (who, I think, is out on bail pending a sexual assault charge. Go figure.).

I had left during the second quarter to get my pretzel, dog and diet coke, and so during half-time I was available for the entertainment provided by Casino Arizona's Showstoppers Live! The program at the Casino is comprised, I believe, entirely of celebrity impersonators. They used to push their Michael Jackson impersonator, but I'm guessing that guy is less popular these days. Now they're pushing Blonde Ambition-era Madonna and some dudes pretending to be "The Blues Brothers."

It was "The Blues Brothers" who took center court on Saturday night, and, I admit, stole a small part of my soul. Whatever it was that made Belushi and Aykroyd really work as the Blues Brothers wasn't present at America West Arena. Nor was any semblance of singing talent. I will admit that these guys did a fairly good job of impersonating the speedball driven dancing of Belushi and Aykroyd, but, in no way, did they approximate the singing or vocals which have had 25 years to seep into the popular consciousness.

We had fairly terrible seats, being, literally, in the top row of the arena, but even from there, one had to wonder... At what point in your singing career to you go ahead and not only audition to be a stand in for Dan Aykroyd, but decide that this is what you are going to do every night of your life? Seriously, at least the seals at Sea World have an excuse for doing the same junk every performance. They get a fresh smelt.

But, hey, the show was free with the price of admission. And we didn't feel compelled to turn to a novel the way the 16 year old girl down the way from us chose to do during the entire length of the game.

Nonetheless, it was a good game, and despite my smack talk, the Rockets did, in fact, win. Luckily it was a tight game, and if the Suns had been a little more on, they literally could have taken the game with six seconds left to go. Ah, well. I think I owe Randy a small display of humility. MacGrady is as good as advertised. Rockets will be a tough contender for anyone they face during the play-offs.

We got up this morning, scrubbed our faces and rolled to the Phoenix "Cactus ComicCon." I hadn't been to a comic convention in many, many years. And I don't really know how to describe it if you haven't been to a convention.

Here's a general idea, though. We sort of parked in the wrong area and were walking aimlessly around downtown Glendale, trying to pick out the Convention Center, when Jamie said, "Oh, look. It must be over there by all of the Storm Troopers."

Yes. It must.

In the 80's there were always paunchy dudes in Trek shirts and Vulcan ears wandering around. These days, it's always dudes in $1000 suits of Star Wars Armor. And 1 dude dressed as Darth Maul, one dude dressed as Vader, and, we got a Qui-Gon. Hooray!

The teens love manga, Leaguers, and based upon the teen age girls running about in animal ears, kimonos and carrying swords, nobody is going to care about super heroes anymore in fifteen years. True, there was a baby Captain America, and a lot of kids were there getting ruined for girls by their overzealous comic-geek dads. I would guess the median age of attendees was probably skewing closer to 27. Lots of dudes.

I did spend some money at the convention. I picked up a lot of comics for about $1, including Captain Carrot and his Amazing Zoo Crew #1.

It was a nice convention, but I didn't come prepared for the celebrity guests (Marv Wolfman was there, and me, with none of my Teen Titans comics!), and I was having a very hard time locating vintage Superman comics.

Seeing grown adults in super hero costumes is always a sort of odd experience. Part of you wants to cheer them on, and part of you wants to give them a swirly. I always wonder exactly what made them put down the character t-shirt and say to themselves, "I may be tubby, have a beard and glasses, but TODAY... TODAY I SHALL BE CAPTAIN AMERICA!!!! WOMAN, GET ME A GARBAGE CAN LID AND SPRAY PAINT!!!!"

These are my peeps. I get to make fun.

Anyhoo, it's been a good weekend. Hope ya'll had a good one, too.

I went and head a ton of dental work done today. No big deal.

But now the numbing stuff is wearing off. Mother of God, it's beginning to hurt.

Hey, looky! It's a countdown to the release of the new Superman movie.



A Kryptonian ship from the Kent farm set from the new movie.

CNN reports Cookie Monster to learn to eat right.

Given what my doctor keeps telling me, maybe Cookie Monster and I can learn to eat right together.

Cookie Monster, I feel your pain. I also get the crazy googly-eyes when presented with a plate of cookies.

From the files of: It seemed like a good idea at the time...

Could it be that the UConn Young Republicans' choice of guest speaker, Ultimate Warrior, was not the genteel, thought-provoking fellow we all believed?

It's really the photo (and my own memory of seeing Ultimate Warrior wrestle at the Erwin Center circa 1990) that makes this so grand.

Heidi Reports.

If only we could get Scott McClellan in that same get-up. THEN people would really be interested in the White House press briefings.

***update***

The Ultimate Warrior is not going to take this Ultimately lying down.

Here is Warrior's rebuttle (sp?).

Look, I have no transcript of the speech given by Warrior (as I guess UW is now called. Why is he no longer the Ultimate Warrior? I guess because Hogan reclaiming his belt in 1991 may have suggested he was not, in fact the ULTIMATE warrior.). And I know that when the hippies decide it's time to get rowdy, things can get a bit silly. So one does wonder, without the benefit of a transcript, what exactly went down with Warrior, the College Republicans, and the obnoxious hippies?

I want to give Warrior the benefit of the doubt. After all, he did become champion fo the WWF after Wrestlemania 6 (althogh i recall his victory relied upon the unfortunate circumstance of a referee losing consciousness during the match-up, and Hogan pinning Warrior several times without the match being called).

As boring as Political Correctness got in the 90's, the current trend of proudly declaring oneself Not Politically Correct has gone from a statement of "tellin' it like it is" in order to stand up to a perceived persecution by liberal elitists, to the indignant response of those who have no idea they are, in fact, a total jack-ass. It's sort of the same failure of logic that results from believing anything you don't like which you see on TV is part of the liberal conspiracy of the main stream media rather than accepting the notion that: occasionally people you support are jack-asses, too.

The League does confess to feeling a certain kinship with Warrior as Mr. Warrior also sees fit to refer to himself throughout his column in the third-person. However, the Warrior does not use the royal "we", which, we at the League find most gratifying in its employ.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

THE LEAGUE PRESENTS:
SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER READING
COUNTDOWN TO INFINITE CRISIS


Last week saw the beginning of DC Comics' new big event. Or, should I say, last week saw the first beat of the PRELUDE to DC Comics' new big event.

But even that isn't accurate, because with a change in editorial a while back, DC got a fire under it's butt and dusted off the psychic cobwebs and somehow recalled that folks might like to have a coherent space which the stable of DC Comic characters occupy.

For the past several years, for whatever reason, both of the major comic companies decided that the writer should be king, and part of that should mean that the writers weren't going to be asked to adhere to continuity or pay attention to what was going on in the comics published by the company.

Visualize, if you will, non-comic readers, the havoc this would play in watching, say, X-Files. One week Mulder & Scully might discover that aliens are the sole inhabitants of Boulder, Colorado. The next week, they wouldn't even mention it, and begin speaking about trying to locate aliens all over again. Then, two weeks later, they might discover that Mesa, Arizona is inhabited completely by aliens and be totally shocked and say things like, "We've never seen anything like this before!"

Anyway, annoying.

A while back Dan DiDio took over oversight of DC's main line of comics (known as the DCU) and seems to have dictated that this "writer's can do whatever they want" business had to end. Fortunately, the writers who were working there already more or less nodded in agreement and began figuring out what to do next.

It appears that the writers began plotting all of this sometime ago as evidenced by comments dropped in the Superman/ Batman comics released an entire year ago, Identity Crisis raising the stakes, and events in individual comics leading right up to last week's release: Countdown to Infinite Crisis.


Despite the fact that every other hero pictured can throw a Hyundia across a parking lot, it's poor old Batman who has to carry the dead guy again. But WHO IS THE DEAD GUY? (hint... it's not Batman)

Quite a title they dreamed up for their $1.00 comic. Fortunately, the comic is 80 pages, and if you read the same ridiculous number of DC Comics that The League does, a lot of things begin to click into place.

If you ever followed comics, you might know "Infinite" and "Crisis" are not words which should be placed together and taken lightly. So we got that going for us.

Now, in addition to the $1.00 comic, DC is releasing not one, not two, not three, but FOUR limited series all under the banner of "Countdown to Infinite Crisis".

The OMAC Project

Villains United

Day of Vengeance

Rann/ Thanagar War

I suppose this means that some time near the end of the year the actual event of the "Infinite Crisis" will rear it's head. In the meantime, the various comics are weaving in and out of this overall storyline in an interesting way. For the first time in years, the DCU feels like one place.

Of course the trolls who lurk about the comic internet world are beating their chests and howling about how they feel their comics are being ruined, but I'm enjoying the hell out of it.

Don't even get me started on what a mindwarp Grant Morrison's Seven Soldiers of Victory is turning out to be.

For a SFFR on Sin City, go here.

A Haiku by Mrs. League:

Small Felis Catus
Gracefully leaps on table.
Glass falls. One A.M.

On Friday Jim D e-mailed me before I'd finished my third cup of coffee to tell me he was headed in to see Sin City. Apparently he was stranded in Houston. Long story.

He called me after exiting the theater, gave me a nickel review, we talked a bit about the flick and then it was time to say adios (it being a work day).

Saturday Jamie and I overcame some minor obstacles in order to go and catch the flick. I was a few feet from Jamie in the parking lot when I remembered a plot point from "The Long Goodbye", and suddenly it occured to me, "Hey, you might not like this movie."

"Why's that?"
"It's, uh... It's going to be really violent."
"I know," she nodded. "I picked up some of your comics."
That's the kind of dame I married. The sort of dame who is going to shrug off a bit of squeamishness in order to check out something new and different and that I might have been ranting about for eight months.

Review are in for Sin City, and most of them are only semi-positive. I guess that's to be expected. Opening weekend receipts were good, but are expected to drop-off once the eager fanboys wander off.

I'd suggest reading Peter Sanderson's comments upon the reviews of Sin City. It stirs up a lot of what I was thinking in both reading the reviews and then heading to the cinema.
Thanks to The Beat for posting the link.

In my head, I do keep some boundaries regarding genre, but I have come to recognize many of the rules which dictate genre are more or less useless if you want to ever take a medium seriously. They also rely far too much on specifics of visual detail and too little on story telling.

An easy example: Star Wars is, despite the star ships, etc... not really a sci-fi movie as scientific principles are completely not the focus of the story. Instead, Star Wars is a fantasy movie using trappings of the sci-fi genre such as laser pistols and robots. Just as last year's I, Robot was not as much a sci-fi movie as much as a police procedural/ cop actioner (vs. the Asimov books which are some of the purest sci-fi around).

It had always sort of puzzled me why folks were so quick to hang "film noir" on the Sin City comics. Yes, the images were black and white, and people sort of grumbled about the city being a lousy place to be, but these were tools lifted from noir. However, in watching films like Laura, The Maltese Falcon, The Big Combo, or The Killers, one wasn't going to see a lot of similarities. Sin City is razor sharp, rat-a-tat action with beheadings and cannibals. I think Laura has three gun shots occur during the course of the entire movie, but it's mostly people standing around talking. The lack of color was most assuredly a budgetary concern in most of these films, and one can hardly place the course of events in The Maltese Falcon in the same realm as those in Marv's Story from Sin City (The Hard Goodbye).

The Sin City comics are inked in stark black and white, punctuated occasionally with color (see That Yellow Bastard), a fantastic choice to bring mood to a world of eternal night and a moral spectrum completely comprised of grays. But with Marv punching his way through doorways and Dwight jumping off of window ledges, I wasn't quite finding the glove-perfect fit I was looking for. The original films dubbed as "Film Noir" were usually talky films done on a budget. What they couldn't do in money, they made up for in topsy-turvey plots and a cast of outlandish characters. For whatever reason, I saw Sin City as strictly nitrous fueled pulp tales/ crime stories using elements of noir.

But I've decided I was wrong.

What makes these movies/ comics/ book fall within the same realm is not so much the specific visual cues and elements, because you could, theoretically make a noir take place in broad day light and in color (see 1984's Blood Simple). Sure, Frank added his usual touches that bespeak Frank's fingerprints on a story, but he's kept the essence of the genre (if that's what you want to call it) completely unadulterated and intact.

So I'm still not sure what makes the film noir genre. I guess my criteria is that the story has to be about characters who have more or less given up on their life or are more or less ambivalent getting pulled in to a situation which is a) bigger than them, and b)is going to give them one last chance at redemption. Sometimes that thing is a bag of money (but usually it's what the money can buy them), more often, that thing is a girl.

And if Sin City manages to do one thing, it manages to pull off the two criteria above with aplomb.

But, as I say, I don't care too much for blocking things off into genre.

BTW, I have to endorse Turbo Tax.

I've used it since 1999, and I've filed electronically for the past few years using it, and you know what? It kicks ass.

Sure, sure... I could hire some dude from H&R block to somehow find us another few bucks on our return, but then I'd have to pay the guy, anyway.

In college I took, believe it or not (and many of you will believe), a class in the Home Economics department. It was actually the single most useful course I've ever taken.

In the class I had to learn how to do taxes outside of a 1040EZ, taking into account things like buying and selling property, dividends, etc... We also had to learn about money markets, IRAs and all kinds of good stuff.

Go ahead and make fun of me for taking a Home Ec class, but without that class, I have no idea how I would have gotten by in the first few years out of college when it came to tax season. Sure, turbo Tax takes the work out of my hands, but I also know I can read the fine print without getting all confused.

These are things you just don't get told about a whole lot when you're a kid.

Anyway, taxes are filed. We're getting a refund, which I have been told is going toward savings and not toward a 1:1 scale model of the Hall of Justice.

Not much to report from League HQ.

Jamie and I had an entirely uneventful weekend. One of the nice features of our neighborhood (and most neighborhoods in Arizona) is that they do not use a sewer system for rain run-off. Instead, most newer neighborhoods designate a green area in the middle of the nieighborhood that serves both as drainage and as a park. Ours happens to be large enough to play host to a sports field, which of course nobody ever uses as all the kids are inside playing their PSPs.

So, having no kids but having two dogs who are infinitely more entertaining than most kids, we went to the park and walked the dogs. It's lovely here these days. 85 degrees and low humidity. Nice day to get Lucy used to the leash. And it was nice day to take Mel off the leash and let him run in circles out in the grass.

In the afternoon we went to see Sin City, which I will not belabor you with a review. It was fun and interesting, and I look forward to seeing it again at some point.

Aside from that, we went to the gym and watched some of the coverage of the goings-on at the Vatican. Having just sat through the audio book of "Angels and Demons" it was interesting to hear the description of the steps to the Pope's funeral carried out.

My memories start to really kick in about age 4 or 5 when we moved from Michigan to Dallas. And I do recall my mother booting me out of the house on the day the Pope was shot. She wanted to watch the footage, but she didn't want me to get scared, so I had to go play out in the back yard.

I should mention that the Steans family is not Catholic, but that evening, when I was told what happened and what was going on, I sort of kind of understood the gravity of the situation.

This memory is tied up with three or four other media events.

1) Reagan being shot. I recall that one as The Admiral explained that GHWB would take over until the President was on his feet again.

2) The wedding of Charles and Di. I recall watching the footage with my mom and being astounded that she could stand up with a train which most surely weighed hundreds of pounds.

3) The freeing of the hostages from Iran. I don't remember too much about it, but I remember the news people being very excited and The Admiral sort of talking in vague terms about what we were seeing on the screen.

All in all, John Paul II is the only Pope to have been around while I've been conscious of such a thing. And not being Catholic, I have no idea what sort of Pope he was in comparison to the Popes before him.

It does seem if anyone would have a golden ticket to get past the pearly gates, it'd be this guy. But we won't know until we're all pushing up daisies, will we?

Next weekend we have tickets to see the mighty Phoenix Suns play the Houston Rockets. If McGrady shows up for the game in spirit as well as body, Phoenix may have a match on their hands. Yao seems to finally understand how to play in the US and is finally becoming the formidable player he was promised to be three years ago.

Anyway, hope everyone else had a good weekend.

I really need to go to bed.

Loyal Leaguer Nathan Cone gets a write up in the Trinity University Alumni Newsletter.

Do you call The League a liar? Read here.

The League does not see such praise for himself coming anytime soon in The Alcalde as The League refuses to benefit mankind in any way shape or form. Truly, The League is a leech on society.

Yes, The League is officially a Texas-Ex. Shut up.

I have Spam in my pocket.

Shit.

I just spent like half an hour working on another installment of "DITMTLOD". But I clicked the wrong dealy and it disappeared into the ether.

I blame only myself.

I confess if I were more focused and not trying to blog and watch the new program "Kojak" starring Ving Rhames, I might not have lost my posting.

Oh, well. What are you going to do?

On the plus side, I kind of like this Kojak show. I never watch cop shows, but I like Ving Rhames, and I sort of like catching up with this show from the first episode. If I come in even part way through a show's first season, I have trouble doing the work to catch up.

Alas, the DIMTMTLOD will have to wait for another day.

It should be noted that I also couldn't think up anything clever for April Fool's, so... uh... I feel as if I really dropped the ball.

Somehow I suspect you'll all get along fine for a few days until I get my act together.

Grenade Bot
There's no way this can be dangerous.

-M.League

Happy Birthday, Peabo!

The 26th of March marked the 30th birthday of Jeffrey "Peabo" Peek. Peabo is a great guy with a lot of hare-brained ideas, and a whole lot of moxie.

I met him in 4th Grade after moving to Austin. He told me the entire story of "Red Dawn", scene for scene, the day I met him. He also didn't mind that I ate all the food in his pantry, so I sort of stuck tight for the next several years.

Jeff is a buddy, a pal, and also one of my crack team of legal experts I keep on retainer just in case. A short while ago he married Adrianna, a girl I assure you who is far too good for him. They recently adopted a schnauzer named "Homer," and, I assume are enjoying their new home.

Back in our youth, Peabo had a multitude of wacky ideas which probably should have gotten one or both of us killed, but despite our best efforts, we're still alive today.

I certainly do miss the guy, and I don't get to talk to him nearly often enough.

Happy Birthday, Peabo. I didn't get you anything.


A scene from the childhood of Peabo and The League

The League Presents:
Suggestions for Further Reading
A Sin City Special



Friday will see the release of what is sure to be a divisive movie among fans of pop culture. Frank Miller's Sin City is finally coming to a theater near you.

I am not going to guarantee you will enjoy Sin City. The content of the stories is minimal, hard-boiled stuff. The look and feel are stylized enough to be alienating, and the characters are not going to be immediately sympathetic. Nobody is clean down in Basin City.

By now you've heard all about how Robert Rodriguez was so committed to retaining the integrity of Frank Miller's work that he decided to bring Miller on-board as a co-director, and thusly had to give up his membership in the Director's Guild as it is against Director's Guild rules to allow for two directors on a single movie. Maybe you've heard how Rodriguez financed a short, which ultimately became the movie's opening scene, out of his own pocket.

You've probably also seen publicity stills and whatnot of green screens and artificial backgrounds.

Lots of crazy stuff. And all to make sure that Miller's work didn't just make it to the screen in spirit... Rodriguez wanted to make sure the books made it to the screen word for word, panel for panel.

This sort of thing doesn't happen for anything adapted for the big screen, comic book, novel, play, whatever... No matter what, the folks at the studio who know better always insist upon adding their own spin, changing storylines, adding or subtracting characters... there's always something. Even Spider-Man, a comic adaptation which truly captures the silver-age essence of the Spider-Man comics, brings Mary Jane in dozens of issues before her first appearance. It changes the Goblin's origin and costume. And, heck... they gave Spidey organic web-shooters instead of his wacky little mechanical web-shooters.

Let's not even get into where the Batman films took a detour and became their own unrecognizable entity.

It would have to take a fanboy of uncompromising spirit to do what Rodriguez has done, and it would take somebody like Miller to get him to do it. It's the ultimate gamble, but also the ultimate leap of faith.

Miller gave us some of the best comics of the past twenty-odd years, comics which opened up our young minds to new and better ideas. But to get there, Miller wrote and drew comics which took existing ideas and figured out why the ideas were brilliant, burning off the fat, tearing away the weakness and reigniting the fires of old fantasies, not just into a comforting glow of nostalgia, but into a raging inferno of the possibilities of genre and character. As much as a craftsman as he might be with Batman, he could just as easily turn in something like 300.

It was guys like Miller who put the thoughts into the heads of starry-eyed kids like Rodriguez back when he was a kid. He told us all the stories hadn't been told yet, and that maybe there are new ways to tell the ones which we already know.

We all have heroes growing up, and for better or worse, for a lot of us geeks, Frank Miller was the man. Even if it was just his Batman work, or, for a lot of lucky folks, his Daredevil work, or the classic Wolverine limited series.

And, if I'd been smarter, I'd have picked up Ronin back when I saw it on the shelf at B. Dalton when I was thirteen.

These days it's fascinating to see comics movies shed the stigma of being this medium where the producers seem vaguely embarassed of their own projects. In the hands of the geeks, at least the movies have a shot at reflecting the maturity which has been blossoming in comics since the 70's. Between guys like Raimi, Rodriguez and Goyer, it's the first time the film creators are able to stand up proudly and talk about the guys who had a hand in shaping their world.

You're lucky, you lucky bastards who don't love comics. You haven't spent year after year watching the characters you know and love come to the big screen as pale, diluted versions of the books you loved, each one more apologetic than the one before it as producers chased dollars before even trying to understand why a property had survived for thirty or more years.

Even with all that, misteps will always occur. Two of Miller's triumphs have been turned into films in the past few years, and both failed to capture much more than the wardrobes of the characters Miller breathed life into. 2003's Daredevil was a shadow of Miller's original storyline, and 2004's Elektra seemed to do anything but recognize why anybody had ever loved the character.

But Miller didn't own Daredevil, or Elektra. Marvel Comics owned them, and they could damn well do as they pleased.

His script for Robocop 2 was diluted and diluted until Miller's fingerprints were only there if you knew where to look.

So if he was a bit skeptical of turning Sin City into a movie, a project which has no voice in it but Miller's own? Who can blame him?

Luckily for us, Rodriguez got what it was Miller was doing, and decided if he would adapt it, he was going to do it right. He was going to bring Sin City to the screen, and he was going to do it panel by panel, and he was bringing Frank along to keep him honest.

In addition to the readings I've linked to above, I'm also suggesting the entire Sin City run. In particular, I'd turn you onto the books which you'll see highlighted in the movie.

1) The Hard Goodbye. The first (and some say, best) Sin City story tells the tale of poor old crazy Marv.

2) The Big Fat Kill. "You gotta stand up for your friends. Sometimes that means dying. Sometimes it means killing a whole lotta people."

3) That Yellow Bastard. Hartigan is maybe the last honest cop in Basin City. And in Sin City, that doesn't come without a price.

4) Booze, Broads and Bullets. A collection of short stories.


So when you go to see Sin City, I hope you enjoy. This movie isn't going to be capes and tights. If you're going to need a non-comic inspired reference, it's Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammet refracted through a broken whiskey bottle. It's going to be a crazy, hyper-violent thrill ride, and I hope you can sit back, relax, have fun and try not to take it all too seriously. Frank would be disappointed if you did.

It's some ways, this movie is nothing but the biggest thank-you one could ever think of giving Miller. We all just get to be in on it.


For the previous Suggestions, click here.

Hey Uncle Bob!

So. It appears that my uncle, "Pentagon" Bob, has been lurking here at The League for quite some time. And by quite some time, I mean, at least a year.

"Pentagon" Bob earned his name by working for the military for years, and this meant his office was right there in the Pentagon. Which, of course, meant that all of my friends were convinced Bob was some sort of secret agent. I am still not convinced Bob is not a secret agent. He lurked here at The league for over a year, and I had no idea he was here. Pretty sneaky, eh?

Bob is married to Linda, who is one groovy chick all on her own. She may also be a spy, but we'll never know, will we?

Bob once took me on a tour of the Pentagon, and I tell you this: I have never seen so many urinals in one, single men's room. That, and these urinals were spotless. That's a fine example of either military discipline or precision, and I have not yet decided which it truly represents.

The other thing you need to know about the Pentagon is this: It's huge. Any enemy forces planning to infiltrate the Pentagon are completely wasting their time. They're going to get lost and end up having to ask for directions.

Thanks to a wicked combination of a derth of vacation days and conflicting family vacation events, I very rarely get to see Bob and Linda these days. It's tough to get all of us in one place at the same time. That, and Bob's constant spy work keeps him busy.

Anyway, it appears that, thanks to Pentagon Bob, my folks located not just my blog, but they also recently located that of Brother Dearest. I assume Jason will now be far more paranoid about what gets posted over at AoS.

I am curious what illusions Bob might have once had about his two cherubic nephews that we've managed to shatter, tread upon and then toss in the dust-bin. Ah, well. Hopefully they'll keep sending nice Christmas cards.

But you gotta love Bob. I shall never forget that when everyone else failed me one bleak Christmas, it was Bob who provided us with Nerf Boomerangs. Those things rocked.

In case you missed Doug's comment:

Not all of the escaped Gorillas were violent:



Yes, the League enjoys a good photo-op as much as the next guy. Perhaps even more so.

I can't help but look at this photo and think: I'm an idiot.

People always say to me: League, why don't you like going to the beach?

As a child, I loved going to the beach. And then one day when I was about 9, I realized that I no longer liked the beach.

I sunburn. I am one pale, highly flammable bastard, and the slightest bit of sunlight turns me lobster red. Not only do I burn, but I always felt sick from dehydration. Whatever fun I had for a few hours grew to be ruined by a) the constant worry of burning b) getting out of the water every fifteen minutes to apply more suntan lotion c) the horrible, greasy feel of suntan lotion caked on, mixed with salt water and sand d) in 1997 I finally REALLY misjudged, and after an hour and a half in the sun, I was burned so badly that I got the blisters. That SUCKED.

and the real kicker: Everybody has to take a bug-eyed at you and exclaim, "Boy, are you sunburned! Didn't you use sunscreen?"

Yes, yes I did use sunscreen on my trip to San Diego. But I did not use it yesterday as I didn't realize I would be outside for any duration.

I own a mirror. I know I am sunburned. I do not need to be told by each person who walks by my office that I am sunburned. I do, in fact, know that sunscreen exists and I am used to applying it in liberal quantities. Sometimes it is difficult to judge if you need it, and yesterday I misjudged.

I am now going to print a sign and tape it to my monitor to inform my co-workers that I know I am sunburned and that I do not need any help or instructions for future exposure to sunlight.

Stay classy, San Diego!

Well, we're back. Let me say that San Diego is a lovely town with friendly people and a lot to offer. We had ourselves quite a time, and I would very much liek to go back.

We stayed at a loverly hotel just off Balboa Park, The Balboa Park Inn.

It was made up of several former small apartment buildings, and each room was given a unique theme. We stayed in The Orient Express.



Jamie poses in our fabulous suite

The evening we arrived we went on a harbor tour and got a good look at some naval vessels, some cargo vessels, Coronado Island, etc... Very nice. The tour guide was deemed controversial, but all in all, it was an interesting tour.

The next morning we got up early, got breakfast, and headed for the San Diego Zoo (only a few blocks from the hotel).




Gorillas rampaged all about the park. We feared for our very lives.

Joining us on our trip were Jamie's brother, Doug... His lady-friend, Kristen, and Jamie's pal, Heather "H" Wagner.




Doug, Kristen, H, Jamie

The best transit at the San Diego Zoo? Skycar!

Heather spots a loose gorilla in a passing Skycar

San Diego is also home to a few Giant Pandas. These guys are terribly endangered.


This Panda is trying to sleep one off after yet another night out with the hippos.

Jamie was delighted to see the Pandas. It was a highlight of our visit to the San Diego Zoo. Especially with all the loose gorillas causing so much trouble.



Jamie is delighted to have seen a Panda. Up until this point, she's usually only eaten them.

Toward the end of the day, we paused at the Elephant Exhibit.


Nothing finishes off a day like an elephant.

We didn't have a shot at finishing seeing the whole zoo. The place is enormous and very hilly. I could have easily done another whole day at the zoo, and hope to return soon to see the rest of the exhibits.

I didn't take too many pictures after this, but we went for a lovely dinner last night at Prado restaurant. It was a lot of fun, and it was significantly better than the dinner at the tourist trap we'd gone to the night before.

Today we got up and ran over to Coronado Island. Very nice place with a lot of history.

At any rate, hope you all had a good weekend. We sure did.

Sounds like it's time to switch to the caesar salad...

A Birthday for Jamie

Hey, everybuddy! Friday is Jamie's big birthday. In order to celebrate, we're shaking the dirt of this one horse town off our sorry hides and we're heading for sunny San Diego, California.

Jamie turns the big three-oh on this particular birthday, and it's a landmark occasion by anybody's measure. Hopefully she will refrain from making me put away my childish things.

She's a special person, she is. And I am very lucky to have her. She is beautiful and funny and smart, and she's as kind and patient as anyone. She gives without asking, and makes my life better.

She puts up with a lot from me and from the world, and she does it all with infinite grace. I never stop learning from her.

She is the world to me, and I hope that I can make a fraction as happy on her birthday as she makes me each day.

Happy birthday, Jamie. I love you.



Needless to say, you'll note that The League is going on hiatus until our return next week.

The League Presents: Samantha Maja Cone

Leaguers, last week we brought you the first published account of the shocking new entrant to the human race, Samantha Maja Cone. Just mere hours after her arrival on Planet Earth, Samantha's pa, Nathan, rung me up to tell me all was well with baby and mother.

Now Renata and Samantha are home, and the first pics of Samantha are in.



Samantha contemplates the mysteries of the cosmos. Note, she already has her wrist band for ZZ Top tickets. Rock n' Rollllllllllll!!!!!



Samantha is prepped for travel and/ or sleeping. Jamie wears a similar harness so she doesn't fall out of bed.



Samantha is tuckered out after her big travel day. Ah, to go back to the simple days of her youth, floating suspended in a pod of amniotic fluid...



Nathan and Renata try to guess how much the baby will fetch on the black market.

So congratulations, Cones! You done had a baby! You guys are going to be groovy parents.

Just remember, it's never too late to change her legal name to "Dr. Octopus."

The League presents: Suggestions for Further Reading

For all the comics-related broo-ha-ha which goes on here at The League, all too infrequently do I feel I really point potential readers to comics which they may enjoy.

Now, keep in mind, literally hundreds of comics are published every month, so this is not some exhaustive, definitive list of worthwhile comics. This list is meant to be a sort of suggestion box for folks who might pop their head into the local comic shop and find the sensory overload a bit frightening.

This being the first column on this topic, I want to cover a few things in case you are new to comics and you want to take a look inside your local comic shop. Next time we'll move on to actual comics The League would suggest for further reading.

Tips for the new comics consumer:

1) Tell the guy behind the counter that you don't know anything about comics, but you're curious. Come prepared to tell him what TV shows and movies you like. This is helpful as many, many comics are not about superheroes. Some are funny, some are soap operas. Some are historical fiction.

2) Do not feel obligated to buy a comic just because the counter guy put it in your hand. If it appears to be too violent or too sexy or whatever, it probably is. You CAN try telling them "that's a bit more (violent, sexy, etc...) than what I had in mind."

If the comic shop guy can't adjust his/her mindset to point you toward something you're more comfortable with, s/he's a bum and should go out of business. Go ahead, browse for a minute and then leave.

3) Manga is not a genre. Manga just suggests a comic came from Asia and will have a few cultural shorthand things in common (big eyes on some characters, an alarming number of girls dressed as nurses and school girls). There are all kinds of Manga, so don't go in expecting all ninjas or G-Force or giant robots. There is also something called hentai. Do not touch.

4) If you are a girl, do not make eye-contact with the boys shopping in the store. The comic nerds are already afraid of you and may do something rash if they feel threatened.

If a comic nerd not affiliated with the store attempts to talk to you, answer him politely and avoid eye-contact. Actually addressing him will lead him to believe he has found his soulmate, and you just got yourself a stalker.

5) For the love of Mike, if you find something you decide is so goofy you want to make a scene, don't. Do not make a big show out of making fun of the goofy item. a) you may be completely misunderstanding some insidery comic-book joke, or b) you may have just broken the heart of the comic nerd who was standing behind you waiting for you to move so he could grab his copy of "Underage Radioactive Samurai Salamanders". This guy may have devoted his entire life to collecting "Underage Radioactive Samurai Salamanders", and you've just ruined the one thing which was making this guy's life bearable. He's 55 and lives with his mother. For God's sake, be kind.

6) Yes, they all wear tights and have huge pectoral muscles.

7) Yes, the girls are all drawn in very little clothing. The unrealistic proportions are not meant to make you feel bad about yourself.

If you must, you can feel secure in the knowledge that the artist's closest contact with real women is the checkout girl at Blockbuster.

8) No, you cannot actually do that in real life. We already know that it is unlikely that Batman could actually, physically, ever take that pose or survive jumping off of roofs.

9) Yes, the crappy looking black and white comics are drawn by pale, pimply looking guys who have girlfriends who look just like them. It is exactly as you suspect.

10) Yes, there are really THAT MANY Batman books on the shelf. And, yes, surprisingly, that many Archie comics. I don't know who reads them, either.

11) Prepare yourself for bizarre debates which may sound as if they are taking place in the psycho ward at county hospital. There may be some boring conversation about writers and artists, but be prepared for lengthy discussions on Batman's ears, the identity of the BEST Green Lantern, and who is stronger, Thor or (insert super-strong super hero here). These conversations will go on for far too long. And get really weird. And Superman is stronger than Thor. End of story.

12) The comic shop will also carry lots of extras, such as toys, posters and role-playing game materials. There are also trading card games and a game called "Hero Clix." Do not, under any circumstances, allow anyone to engage you in a discussion on "Hero Clix", "Vs." or "Magic: The Gathering."

If this occurs, feign ignorance of the english language.

13) If you are looking for comics for small kids, make sure you immediately tell the shop keep that you are looking for a children's comics. Tell him/her how old the child is, and await further instructions. Do not assume because something looks cute, it is innocent. Sometime I will have Jamie discuss "Fancy Froglin and the Sexy Forest".

14) It is, in fact, true that Watchmen and Dark Knight Returns are the greatest superhero comics ever written. If anyone disagrees with this statement in the comic shop, you can punch them in the gut, because they're a filthy liar. No, Deadpool is not better than either of them. The guy who just told you that is an idiot.

15) If you're artsy, go in to the store, request Craig Thompson's "Blankets" or something by Daniel Clowes. You'll be happier and feel really arty.

16) If you hate your own life, request the work of Chris Ware. You'll get a really interesting comic and you will have your worst fears confirmed.

17) Comics are not like books. It may take a short while to adapt to the visual language of comics, especially as you jump from artist to artist and genre to genre.

So that's it. That's my tips for going to the comic shop. Next time I'll actually come back and suggest some comics for further reading.

Fake animals on the TV!!!

I'm watching a kick-ass fake documentary on Animal Planet about dragons.

Tolkein aside, I haven't been much of a swords, sorcerers and dragons sort of guy in many years. (What ever happened to you Zack the Elf? You were the best D&D character ever...!) But this show rocks.

Anyway, if this replays, you have to check it out.

It is far superior to the movie I watched last week on cable.

I guess this Dragon program is kicking off a week of specials on mythological and imaginary creatures called "Animal X."

You can see the listings for this week and choose which epsidoes you want to watch. I, myself, will be tuning in for the episode on Thursday night which may or may not feature footage of my brother.

From my program listings:

Bigfoot: Investigator might have discovered evidence that Bigfoot is alive and well in Texas.

Dear Melbotis

Jamie writes:

Dear Melbotis,

It's been a while since we've heard from you. Are you still answering questions? What's your take on new puppy Lucy? How has her presence changed your life? How has it changed Jeff the Cat's?

Dear Jamie,

Melbotis agree that it been long time since Mel say much. Ever since Mel get e-mail, Mel have many, many e-mails. Mel keep getting e-mail from many bank asking for information for verification and Mel keep having to send and send and send. Won't bank keep Mel information written down on sticky paper?

Also, Mel send off for pills to make Mel a "man." Mel looking forward to being man and yelling at other dogs. "Sit down, doggy! Go outside, doggy!" Mel will play trick when Mel is man and Mel will go into garbage can all he want and nobody stop him.

This is what Mel think he look like when he is man.


(Mel not sure if this accurate, but Mel hear this man maybe have no testicles either)

Mel will answer many questions when Mel get them, but sometime Mel get question and he forget despite Mel having best of intentions.

Thank you, Jamie for reminding Mel every ten minutes of e-mail.

You ask about little black dog who show up. Little black dog kind of scare Mel, then Mel remember he is huge and show little black dog who boss is. So Mel pretend to eat little black dog, and when that not work, Mel actually try to eat little black dog. Little black dog is much better now.

In some way, little black dog is happy addition to backyard. Mel spend many, many afternoon in backyard with nothing to do except protect house from stupid neighbor dog. And while laying in sunshine and occasionally barking at other doggies has it plusses, sometimes Mel will get bored and sleep for, oh.... ten hour straight. Mel suppose this not real good for Mel's weight (which Stupid Man always say is, "Just fine, my man. We'll be fat together.")

Anyway, little black dog say to me, "Hey, doggy! Hey, doggy! Hey, doggy!"
And Mel say, "What?"
And she say, "What?"
And Mel say, "You say 'Hey, doggy!'"
And little black doggy say, "What?"
And Mel say, "What?"
And then little black doggy go off and chew on a rock.

Sometime she chew on Mel's ear, and Mel have to pin Lucy, but all in all, Mel like little black doggy and hope he not have to eat her.

Before answering mail, Mel went to cat and said, "hey, Cat! What about little black dog?"
And Jeff say, "-the temperature at 5:00 shall be 72 degrees with winds out of the southwest."
And Mel say, "No, little black doggy."
And Jeff say, "Your classic rock station with all the hits! Rockin' 98.5 FM!!!!"
So Mel not sure. But sometime Jeff throw up now after little black doggy tries to say "Hello."

Mel hope all Leaguers having good day. Mel happy to be back at glowy pizza box thing.