And just to keep anyone from hanging in suspense, my car is all taken care of. Pitre Subaru of Scottsdale even washed it before I picked it up. How can you not be pleased with that? I drove the car all weekend and it's like having a new car again. I am poorer but happier, and isn't that what consumerism is about?

Mel is not liking the heat. I need to call PetSmart and get him trimmed for summer. But then he will look like a piggy.

today marks my first anniversary in Chandler, Arizona.

Heh heh he he he

Ron Perlman as Hellboy

Hellboy as originally drawn by Mignola

I don't read Hellboy, although I like Mignola's art, and The Amazing Screw-On Head was pretty cool. I will definitely go see anything where this guy is the hero. Look for this movie next year.

More fun with the Patriot Act

My car trouble continued into yesterday. It was not the drive shaft, it was a wheel bearing, which is good, as that's still covered under the warranty. I am now struggling to decide whether or not to extend my warranty. It is prohibitively expensive, but if something goes really, really wrong, the alternative is more expensive. I am supposed to get my car back today.

The downside to all of this is that I missed a chunk of the Spurs game last night. Jamie came and got me (God bless her) and by the time we ate dinner and got home, it was the 3rd quarter. Well, the Spurs weren't doing too well, so I turned off the game and wandered off in disgust. Stupid me. Kerr apparently came alive shortly after I turned off the game and the Spurs clinched it. Go Spurs.

And just in case you ever had any doubt...

Okay, kids, I've been threatening to do this for some time. I finished Supreme: Story of the Year last weekend, and I was going to write a review, but changed my mind. Instead, in my ongoing pursuit of forcing others to read comics, I'm delving deep. If I can get Jamie to sit down and read Top Ten, I can get some other folks reading comics, too.

In the past few years several movies and television programs have come out based on comic properties.
Spider-Man
X-Men and X2
Blade and Blade 2
Smallville
Birds of Prey
Daredevil
Hulk comes out in a few weeks and Spider-man 2 is filming. Batman is being directed by Chris Nolan and Superman is in a state of production limbo. Punisher is filming. Hellblazer is being mashed down into a nightmare called Constantine. Hellboy is being done as a feature with Ron Perlman as Hellboy himself.

But not all comics are about superheroes or mutants or what have you. Did you know Road to Perdition was a comic? Or the Jack the Ripper drama From Hell? League of Extraordinary Gentlemen is based loosely on Alan Moore's comic of the same name, Ghost World was originally a Daniel Clowes comics.

Anyway, if you saw these movies or TV shows, if you ever liked any of them... the same basic tenent often holds true: The book is better than the movie. I encourage folks to swing by the comics section at their Barnes and Noble, Borders, or whatever. The comic publishers collect the monthly 22 page comics into nifty little collections which are alternately called Graphic Novels or Trade Paperbacks. I think if you spend a few minutes digging around you'll find something that has cool art, or an interesting looking character or two. I also think that if this your first voyage into comics territory, that you'll find not all Superheroes are alike. Start somehwere with something you've seen before as a movie, such as X-Men or Spider-Man. Find art you can like, and then go from there. Specific artists jump from comic to comic, so you can seek out artists or writers, just as you would any other book. Look for numbers on the spines of these big comic books. They'll often tell you what order these things can or should be read in. That's always helpful.

If it's been awhile since you read comics, try wandering on back to the sci-fi section at your bookstore. Things may have changed a little, but it's still a lot of fun.

It reached 111 degrees here today. At least it's a dry heat, they tell me.

Just went to lunch. Holy shit is it hot out.

In other good news, my Miller's Crossing, Barton Fink and Challenge of the Superfriends DVD's finally showed up yesterday.

I still love Miller's Crossing, and for a lot of reasons that have to do with story, cinematography, acting, blah blah blah... But, as Verna, UT alumnus Marcia Gay Harden did something very, very wrong to me as a young high schooler. In the process she managed to completely distort my concept of what I thought a cool girl was going to be. It turned out that Harden had been roomies with my high school drama coach back when they attended the Univ. of Texas together. I was promised a chance to contact Harden, but Valenta decided my young, hormone-addled mind would not be given this chance to go into absolute meltdown. Just as well.

Still, it's one of my fave rave's, and I have to say the release of this particular DVD is a long time in coming.

And Barton Fink...? I'll show you the life of the mind...

In visiting my parents this weekend, I stumbled across a box of old photos. One thing struck me in particular. In all the pictures taken during high school, I look absolutely terrified. Seriously. Well, in truth, that's kind of how I remember ages 15-17, so it's probably pretty accurate. These pictures, especially photos of me smiling, make me look confused and frightened.

I've got to give a shout out to Discount Tire out in Gilbert, AZ. I put 4 new tires on the Forester on the 10th to get rid of road noise, but the sound was actually worse with the new tires. I went in yesterday and told them my dilemma. At absolutely no charge, they gave me 4 newer, better tires, no questions asked. "If this doesn't fix your problem, it's not the tires," I was told.

Holy cats. In this day and age, aside from the local Target, I am pretty much used to getting the shaft when I need any actual customer service. I will never buy tires anywhere else ever again.

Here's my problem. The sound persists. It's not road noise. It's got to be the drive shaft. I fear I am about to go into some serious debt. Stupid car.

Well, I skipped out of work around 1:15 and picked up Melbotis. He's in good shape, and he got a bath while still at the kennel. Mel was given a little report card to let me know how he'd done.

Eating: Ate all his food every day
Attitude: A big sweetheart :)
Special Comments: Enjoyed his TLC time. (I paid $10 a day for extra playtime, which felt weird since I have no way of verifying they actually play with the dogs)
Problems: none :)

All in all, it appears Mel did well. He is extraordinarily tired this evening, which probably means he lost some shut eye around the other dogs. He ate dinner, went outside and pretty much passed out behind the couch. Good for him. I'm glad he's home.

Those who follow The League are aware that Mel and I are buddies. What many of you may not know is that there is, in fact, a 4th member of our household.



Jeff is the cat Jamie and I adopted before we were married.

As a rule, I never really cared much for cats, and Jeff hasn't done much to sway me away from my opinion. He bites a lot, attacks Jamie and sheds everywhere. He even occasionally goes after poor old Mel. But Jeff is my kitty, and I feel as if I've got to give props to the big man as he managed to make it for three days on his own without any adult supervision.

Okay, I don't know who the person was who was looking for "all natrual boobs" who hit The League, but I assure you, "all natrual boobs" will not be making their presence known on this site.

I have returned from Houston and am depressed once again at the lack of greenery in Arizona. Not much to be done about it, I suppose. Houston is, for all it's smog and other pollutants, still a very green place. That said, I got a taste of the open ocean at the Aquarium resaurant in downtown Houston yesterday afternoon. The fish was pricey, but tasty, and they have an honest-to-God Aquarium as part of the complex. Very cool.

I am very tired. I hate to say that maybe I got too much sun yesterday and am still trying to get over a mild sunburn. I am also not wanting to return to work tomorrow as I have had an abbreviated weekend.

Mel has to stay at the Kennel thru tomorrow. As Memorial Day is a holiday, I can't pick him up. The house seems very, very empty.

Jim has asked that I blog about the American Family Association's recent artilce on the "evils of comics". At this point, it's pretty clear Jimbo is baiting me, but that's all right. Look, if these AFA mouth-breathers want to whine about every bit of media that isn't equivalent to Seventh Heaven, there's not much I can do to help them. I just suggest they try to leave the rest of us alone who are trying to have a nice life.

I do love terms like "the gay agenda" that pop up in these sorts of publications. Last time I checked, the gay agenda involved not getting beat to death for your sexual preference, but apparently there's an insidious bit of gay-plotting afoot. Oh, those whiley gays! They'll have Ashcroft huffing cock in a chemise if we don't stop this trend!

The best part of the whole article comes at the end where the author chooses to rail against the character of Nightcrawler, a character depicted since the late 70's as a firm Catholic who will not allow the prejudice of others to sway him from his devotion to Christ. Nightcrawler, as recently seen in X2: X-Men United, has a demonic appearance, but that is supposed to be the irony of the character. The character of Nightcrawler even went so far as to join the seminary in the past few years of X-Men, but he recently, as part of his arc, had a moment of crisis. The author of the articvle takes this opportunity to attack Nightcrawler: Of course, the one religion to be openly disrespected is always Christianity. In a January, 2003, issue of Marvel’s Uncanny X-Men, the blue-skinned Nightcrawler is shown in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, railing against Jesus Christ. Interesting that Christ and Moses are allowed to have moments of doubt, but not anyone else. This author also COULD have pointed to this character as a shining example of Christianity over 20+ years of comics. X-Men has long been about tolerance, and this author showed how intolerant he and his readership are willing to be.

The AFA was also running banner-ads on their own site to "Stop the Persecution of Christians" within the US. I wonder what the hell these guys are talking about. Isn't the US more than 70% Christian, even if not necessarily church-going? Or is the AFA the keepers of what it means to be Christian? I suppose whenever someone disagrees with them, it must mean they're being persecuted... anyway...

Comics went thru this same attack in the 50's with the publication of Seduction of the Innocent. This led to the establishment of the Comics Code Authority, the decimation of EC Comics and a lot of talented people being censored into oblivion by people without imagination enough to try to understand the stories within comics. Today, the average age of comic readership is around 24. That's a more mature population than that watching Friends or anything not on CBS. These people do not need anyone acting as the Thought-Police. Comics creators, however, earn a fraction of what is earned in other media and the industry would have a difficult time withstanding a full-on assault by motivated folks seeking a new target.

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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.

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.

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.

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

Texas Democrats in Oklahoma? Anyone wondering why Democrats, or any sane person, would reject the Texas GOP proposed redistricting plans need only look at this map. Whole cities are broken into bizarre chunks to minimize the effects of large groups of voters, areas are wrapped around voting blocks in unnatural curves and coves in order to avoid any potential threat. Yet, somehow, the Panhandle is a solid mass.

If the GOP is this interested in maintaining a majority, they should try actually meeting the needs of their constituents. In the meantime, pillaging whole cities of their ability to fairly elect candidates which represent the constituency is as undemocratic and even unrepublican as voter fraud (thanks, LBJ!). Anyone genuinely interested in serving the public would not feel the need to go to lengths this deceitful. By winning the game at any cost, the GOP threatens to undermine the very fundamentals the game was based upon.

The fallout of this exodus is going to be as hard felt as the ousting of the Republicans at the end of Reconstruction. In order to achieve anything for the remainder of the term, Texas Democrats will have to be prepared for nothing but an uphill battle. They've finally pulled the tiger's tail, but perhaps after 140 years of domination, it's fair to ask them to work for their seats and right to represent.

The Amazing Dedman has pointed me toward an article in the Houston Chronicle about a man who claims to have originally dreamed up American Idol, a concept he claims to have pitched in 1994 to several production companies in the US and Europe. He also claims that he DOES, in fact, have evidence of the pitches and the time at which he made them.

As American Idol is widely known to have originated from a show broadcast in the UK called "Pop Idol" (which also sounds like a creepy breakfast cereal to me), one wonders if there is any truth to the man's claims. The gentleman is asking for $300 million.

You know, I do lay awake at night trying to figure out how to make the big score, and this seems like as good a scheme as any. But here's the deal, kids... when you start making any money, someone is always going to want a piece of you and your fortune. Someone is always going to be trying to make a grab. If you get rich, do it low profile.

Somehow I have offended the gods.

Almost everyday now I get a spam/ junk e-mail about getting a new septic tank. I've never looked for a septic tank online, I don't live where I can use a septic tank, and frankly, I don't think I'd buy one online anyway. I think, like buying shoes, it's something you need to feel out for yourself before you purchase it.

At least e-mails offering me porn would be interesting, but I don't get those. No, I get offered great deals on septic tanks and "male enhancement."

In the "Why Does God Hate Me?" category, the boobs running Warner Bros. pictures are apparently so distracted by The Matrix franchise, that a legion of 14 year old girls has seized the production offices and is making ridiculous demands.

while just a rumor, superherohype.com is reporting that Justin Timberlake of N'Sync is up for the role of Superman in the upcoming and ultimately doomed Superman feature film franchise. I hate Warner Bros. today. Seriously. Why is this being allowed to happen?

I understand that LA is a town in which creative decisions are made for business reasons and a lot of weird things can happen, but I think it doesn't take a genius to know that Justin Timberlake is not the first person to spring to mind when Superman casting is mentioned. This is not creative casting or even stunt casting. This rumor indicates a sad grab at dollars from 14 year old girls. The irony being that this will alienate pretty much any male between 16 and 80. Hollywood must be quite the wonderbubble to live in. Imagine a world where you might actually consider making this casting decision.

I am sure this is a rumor gone awry, but it highlights the fact that the Superman movie project is so out of control that anything is possible. From prior reports of their casting selection, the script must be focusing on a juvenile version fo the character, which is completely crazy based on the current and successful version of a Young Superman in the WB's own Smallville. Tom Welling, who plays young Clark Kent is twice TImberlake's size, and has established himself.

Someone needs to tell them not to make this movie until the stupid level gets turned down a notch.

Mad props to the good folks at RHPT.com for linking to The League. We do our best, and always appreciate a little support. Or at least what we assume was support. Again, as people I don't know read this site, my paranoia increases.

Matrix Madness had consumed the Chandler Fashion Center Harkins 24 last night. I went to the Atomic Comics to go pick up a long box and an X-men trade I had on order, and lo and behold, betwixt the buildings were many a Gen-Y'er awaiting the midnight release of Matrix Reloaded.

I wish all Matrix fans the best of luck. May you not have need to experience the same six months of denial and wasted energy defending Reloaded that I spent defending The Phantom Menace (Jim D. can verify my bout with insanity). All I'm saying is that I spent five hours in line to see that damn movie, and it left me so crazed and delirious that I was not in my right mind until I viewed Phantom Menace on home video.

Melbotis update: A while back I gave Mel one of Jamie's socks to play with. It's totally disgusting now, and I don't know what to do about it. Lately he's really wanted me to hang onto the other end and play tug-o-war, but here's the problem: Jamie has little feet and little socks. Mel has a big, slobbery mouth. The sock is vile to the touch. I need to get out some of my old socks to at least give me a little breathing room.

Oh, and in order to get more hits, I'll mention American Idol. I always double my hits when I mention American Idol. I don't care who wins as we learned from last season, all of the bottom four or five will get record contracts. Clay Aiken and Ruben Studdard need to do a buddy cop movie that takes place in the Deep South, and it needs to be a musical.

If I mention the chillingly, vacuously talentless Kimberly Caldwell, I also get many, many more hits. I can never figure out if it's from little girls or dirty old men. And why do they like the same things?

As our nation's leaders stomp around the country repeating "jobs" and "growth" (which is actually printed on the Presidential back drop these days) in support of Bush's new tax cut, I'd like to take a moment of pause.

If we're cutting $550 Billion from the budget, but increasing military spending, by default, won't the federal government have to release people from their government jobs?

$550 billion

reduced to the amount it would equate to evenly over 11 years (which I think is the plan) = $50,000,000,000

divided by, say $40,000 a year over 11 years

could eliminate around 1,250,000 jobs.

Now the $550 billion cut does not include the proposed plans to increase military spending, so potentially more jobs are looking at getting the axe, but I guess that's where military recruiting will fit in.

Of course the federal government isn't planning on killing over a million jobs (I think), so what is going to have to go? Surely education won't mind a $9 billion cut. Or healthcare. People certainly do not need healthcare. But our need for a laser armed space station is clear.

I look forward to a future of stupid, sick people where we've outlawed McDonald's and can wipe enemies off the face of the earth with a laser bolt a la Real Genius.

How to keep relevant and tie this into Melbotis? Look, Mel doesn't know much about this federal government thingie, but he isn't exactly clear on how this is going to help spur spending by consumers if many, many of them lose their jobs and people are spending all of their money trying to stay healthy while raising property taxes so schools aren't shut down. Mel's also a little concerned that maybe this tax cut will support businesses and people who already have enough money to buy volumes of stock large enough that they actually give a shit about how many times their dividends get taxed. But maybe I'm putting words in his mouth.

It's days like today when I truly miss The Lone Star State.

And Jim D. has informed me that somebody out there hit his site after searching for "melbotis cancer" on MSN.com. it is possible it was my brother, but that seems a bit odd.

So yesterday I was doing the weekly whacking of the weeds with my Craftsman when I banged my head on a branch in my backyard. It didn't hurt that bad. I was mostly just kind of surprised.
Twenty minutes later I went out to mow my lawn with my Craftsman when I began to wonder if my head had bled at all when I popped it against the branch. Just the previous morning I had watched a televangelist talking about how the scalp is one of the most well-veined parts of the body, but I had experienced no blood loss that I could assess.
So when I reached up and touched my head I noticed I had something attached to my head. Apparently I had driven a thorn through my scalp and straight into the lining around my skull, and possibly into my skull. Zowie!
Anyway, I'm here to tell you folks, there are few things weirder feeling (albeit rather painless) than pulling something out of your own noggin.

Melbotis update: We took Mel to the place where he will be boarded when we go to Hoston. He had to go in for an inspection. They shot something up his nose to prevent Kennel Cough, but it didn't really phase him.
I do think he'll be a little freaked as he is not well socialized with other dogs. But he is a good boy, and I am sure he will be fine.

And this is kind of cool. It's great how people make their own fun. I get the knives and goblins and whatnot, but what's up with role-playing the clapping wench? Not much of a fantasy life, I guess. LIGHTNING BOLT!!!!

Well, I finally dragged my sorry carcass to go and see X2 (X-Men United) last night. It was pretty damn good. Huzzah for Nightcrawler.

The trailers got me thinking, and I'm going out on a limb to admit something here: I don't like the Matrix. Really. I'm the guy who walked out at the end into cold daylight and didn't see what the big deal was.

I thought the original Matrix was just kind of dumb. Not Dean Devlin Godzilla dumb, but kind of stupid. Thus, I feel a little left out these days when I see all of these trailers for the sequel or whatever it is to The Matrix. I just don't care. From a script point, the Matrix felt like the mad ramblings of a comic reading 9th grader who recently discovered Tae Kwon Do and Jet Li.

By the end of original Matrix, I was cheering for Mr. Smith to wipe out all of these fashion victims and their hi-flying hoo-hah. I mean, cheering for the humans in the Matrix is a little like cheering for the cows in a western. What will poor Mr. Smith eat if he can't eat people? We all appreciate Optimus Prime for protecting humanity from the Decepticons, but at the end of the day, he's going to turn around and need a big 'ol energon sandwich, too, and where's he going to get it? Odds are, he's going to be eyeing our precious natrual resources as well. And it ain't like we're using them wisely, oh mighty drivers of the Hummer.

I'm no engineer, but I know using people for powering your killer squid robots has got to be the dumbest source of energy that these space men/ Skynet folks could have possibly sought... if they were looking for a clean, replinishable energy source, solar and tidal power, as well as windmills are far more efficient and less likely to revolt against you. Hell, a tire fire is more efficient. And all the wasted power in keeping humans alive? I mean, the energy expenditure in lighting those tubes and keeping the people, batteries warm can't possibly be giving you better than a 15% return on your investment. Has no one noticed how much energy we suck up and how much food, etc... we have to consume? I think the assumption is that these people must all be Canadians and are eating one another so there is no wasted energy, but to accomplish this, every Canadian would have to eat like 10 other Canadians a year just to keep going, and in the end, we'd have run out of Candians faster than you can say "Socializied Medicine." And wouldn't cows be easier to keep happy in floating bubbles (plus you could mine the methane gas for additional energy)?

We've also been led to believe that the evil spacemen/ Skynet control the environment of the Matrix, so why not drop a huge virtual block on Neo & Co.? Or take away the doors when they're in a room? Or drop a virtual atom bomb on them? Kung-Fu just seems really inefficient, let alone sending only single individuals or small gorups after them at a time. Why not a virtual SWAT team, or army? Or PTA? i mean, if it comes down to erasing a file folder or two to get at the factions threatening to end your very existence, wouldn't you be willing to drag and drop them into the recycle bin rather than keep banging your head against the wall?

As something that can be a big bag of fun after a couple of beers, I can appreciate the Matrix. Other than that, the holes in the plot were bigger than the holes in a pair of Lucas's threadbare Phantom Menace underoos.

So now we have bad Universal Studios Adventure stand-ins filling commercials shilling beer and Power-Ade. As if this movie needs to find additional sources of revenue. Is Carrie-Ann Moss really too respected to shill beer herself?

Worst of all crimes is that the execs at Warner Bros. have no idea that in re-inventing the Superman story for the upcoming movie, they're ripping off their own product. The script is about fulfilling prophesies with the use of Superpowers. Wow. Is that ever going to look smart after 3 of the highest grossing movies EVER have used the same storyline.

Sigh.

There's nothing wrong with liking The Matrix. It just wasn't my bag. Let's all hope it's better than I think it will be (not that I'll know until it comes on cable).

Friends, Romans, Countrymen...

I found out tonight that Calvin the Ferret died on Tuesday night. Calvin was my brother's ferret, and he'd been sick for the past six months. Not overly sick. I mean, he lost some fur, but his eyes were still bright, and he still did his best to tear things up.

But Calvin was a good guy, and he performed his ferrety duties with aplomb. He leaves behind Jason, Hobbes the Ferret, and quite a ferrety smell.

Calvin spent several years systematically destroying Jason's apartment. He mastered stealing keys and CD's. And this story is true: I caught Calvin stealing CD's in their cases and stacking them inside his kitty carrier. It was the damndest thing I've ever seen. Truly a remarkable weasal. Let him be remembered fondly. I know even as I write this, he's swiping the keys to the pearly gates and letting all the "fun" ferrets in thru the backdoor. He was that kind of guy, and he'll be missed.

Condolensces can be sent to: j_steans@msn.com

Ahhhhhhh... politics.

I always love how the mere mention of the name "Clinton" gets conservatives all red-faced and sweaty. It's not unlike how the name "Bush" gets liberals to start gnashing their teeth. Regrettably, presidential election season is coming, and all of the nonsense and bad commericals are about to start.

For the past ten years Conservatives have pretty much been playing Dr. Doom to Clinton's Reed Richards. Dr. Doom launches an attack which CANNOT FAIL THIS TIME, and Reed pretty much invents a new device for saving his ass once again. In the end, Reed heads back to the Baxter building and Doom lumbers back to Latveria, and everyone just waits around for it too start all over again.

Basically, like a Tom and Jerry Labor Day marathon, it's getting pretty tired. We all know Clinton diddled his secretary, and we all know that Conservatives have an amazing urge to STOP HILARY (although we don't really know why. We suspect she turned them down for senior prom). And so I have decided to start voting on who annoys me less. 3rd party candidates are annoying, but with a low profile, could garner my vote!

This is not to say I am voting for whomever is least evil, because I think evil is great, and I expect it. This time around I am NOT voting for someone who is for something. Nope, I plan to vote for whomever doesn't do anything. To gain my vote, don't do any of the really, really annoying things below:

bombard me with repetitive commercials during Seinfeld reruns
cite an opponent's voting record more than 7 years old
hire licensed scienticians to back them up with "scientological facts"
roll up their sleeves to act as if they're changing a tire
scare old people
suggest that their opponent has no family values (and thereby must eat babies, like a Canadian)
dance publicly with their spouse
scare mommies
try to cut Medicare
have John Kerry's hair
split the Democratic vote in Florida
scare billionaires
cover up death of mistress after driving off bridge
play Lee Greenwood songs over public address systems
scare me
believe in "trickle-down economics"
even suggest you're going to help education, because you won't, you evil bastards
wear a cowboy hat
appear on Oprah
scare the French
promise workers jobs. Unless they're jobs in the white house, where you can actually hire someone.
keep 3rd parties out of the debate process
quote Abraham Lincoln


I think that the person most likely to get my vote will be the person i never heard of. I'm not suggesting I will even go to the polls, because my polling place is creepy and full of old people, but you could get my vote if you're an utter stranger. I don't expect to enjoy this election.

Okay. It has been brought to my attention that not much has been said about Melbotis in the past several postings. Well, I'm always here to deliver to my audience what they want. Before ratings start slipping off and I have to introduce a baby or new, wise-cracking cousin into the blog, I will return it to it's roots. I promise much more Melbotis reporting.

So what's Mel been up to?


photo taken just prior to Halloween. Mel's nifty Halloween costume courtesy of Jamie.

Mel has recently been traumatized by the two trips we took, but he is recovering nicely. There's nothing like a little separation anxiety to make you feel that much more appreciated when you get home. He's about due for his spring trip to the Petsmart groomers in which he will be bathed, trimmed, dipped and generally manhandled. He never seems to mind these trips as he believes he's just getting additional attention from strangers.

Mel has two favorite toys of choice. The primary toy for years has been tennis balls, which he likes to carry around two at a time. He plays a pretty good game of fetch. Since we've moved here, I've gone through about twenty tennis balls. I don't know where they go. They simply disappear. I hate to think of what is lining his little stomach, but it can't be good. For Christmas, the in-laws decided to get cute and bought Mel a stuffed white bear that has a little box inside. When Mel bites into it, it plays back a short recorded message of my choosing.

Deciding to be clever, the first message we tried was "The Proletariat has the right to rise up against the bourgeoisie!" I now know why the communist revolution failed. Mel's been protesting for workers rights lately, and the second he actually does some work, I will make some concessions.

The chip was then programmed to say, "Goodboy, Mel! Goodboy!" THis immediately replaced my function in the household as far as Mel was concerned as all he needed to do to achieve positive reinforcement was to violently shake his white bear (which had somehow taken on the name of Boo-Boo).

These days the chip's battery is dead, and all the bear says is "Chhk... chrk chk". It's actually kind of creepy. Mel still loves Boo-Boo, though. Whenever you try to read on the floor, he places Boo-Boo on your book or head, which is a pretty gross proposition since Boo-Boo has accumulated 4 months worth of dog spit.

best news in weeks:

Indiana Jones is coming to DVD

In response to yesterday's blog, Jim wrote:

Well, I think you miss the point, which is that a "comic book movie" has to cater to two audiences: the fans (like you and me) and the populace. If it is just to the fans, the film can't be made, as it will tank. If it is just for the populace, the fans will kill it with bad word of mouth. So how to do both?

Singer seems to get it . . .

I responded with:

I whole heartedly agree. I must have been unclear.

My point was not that movies should just follow the comics beat for beat, but that critics dismiss comic-based movies because the movie had a comic for a source. This is usually done loudly and unnecessarily before the reviewer ever gives the movie a chance. Critics are bringing in certain baggage, and as a result, end up repeating the same dumb 4 cliches in every review, every time a comic based movie is released. Sites like Aint It Cool have existed for so long because it's the one source from which you know the reviewer will most likely not be biased against a movie because it's a genre picture.

Clearly non-Superhero comic adaptations are free from this criticism, so it is not the panel to big screen translation which doesn't work. Ghost World, From Hell, Road to Perdition and Spirited Away escaped this kind redundant review, to name just a few.

Movies need to be directed as 90 minute stories, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's form equalling function. Reading a comic series is an investment of time and money and a different medium. A short trip to the movies is simply not the same investment. Yet, movies can finally deliver what super hero comics have promised us for so long, and bring that experience to millions more. I just hope they can keep the essence of what made the properties being adapted mean so much for so many years.

I hope to see X2 immediately, but it will probably wait until the weekend.

So Jim said:

Ah, but the opposite is true! Sites like that of Knowles are far more likely to slavishly worship and adore rather than use a critical eye. AICN is the fringe, as well, and probably a bad example anyway, since Knowles was bought long ago by the studios with ego-stroking, junkets and trinkets.

I think perhaps people just find the idea of superheros SILLY. Tights, powers, etc, truth, justice. They don't know superheros like the dark and brooding X-Men . . . . Their notions of superheros come not from claremont and miller but mostly from plastic man and the wonder twins, you know?

So I am inclined to say:

Well, at this point I don't know if Knowles counts as a critic at all anymore. You can glean what you need to from perusing his headlines. (I happened to see Harry this weekend entering Austin Books on Lamar. He was going in to get free comics for Free Comics Day.) But, yeah... I mean, the man liked Daredevil. He's lost all credibility. So I guess maybe he has the opposite of a knee-jerk anti-superhero reaction. BUT, folks looking for news about genre films can usually find that info there, if they know how to read around the insane ramblings of the site's proprietor.

I don't think there's any perhaps about folks finding Superheroes silly (or Knowles silly, either). That seems to be the common concensus. But lately, in the right hands, these characters are working on the big screen for the first time since Burton did Batman. For two hours, folks are able to suspend their disbelief and think it's okay for Spider-Man to be swinging around Manhattan. It's just fun to see these stories working on a mass level. I think that's the secret hope of every comic fan... mass appreciation for something we've enjoyed for years. We know that superheroes are thought of as silly, so when Spider-Man makes a Billion Dollars, and little kids will grow up thinking of Spider-Man as a great action hero, it doesn't matter if it's in comics or movies.

So if the typical critical reaction to superhero movies is pretty negative, I think i can live with that. You're not going to always appeal to everyone, and critics have a reputation to maintain. If they don't stay conservative, they could lose the easiest job in the world. Producers just need to take their material seriously, and generally the audience will follow their cue. The moment someone wants to talk about making something into a musical, or adding a wise-cracking sidekick, that director, writer, whatever... that person needs to be shown the door. Marvel's producers believe in their product, and find creatives who also believe in the product. They've managed to stay true to their subject mateiral, and they're making a lot of money doing it, masks, crazy-Wolverine-hair and all.

Yeah, superheroes are kind of silly, but so is watching an entire season of baseball, or voting Democrat in Texas, or wearing a cowboy hat, or reading this blog, for that matter.

With the Phoenix Suns now soundly out of contention and the Rockets nowhere in sight, my loyalties are no longer split.

Go SPURS.


If I've said it once, I've said it a million times... the Japanese just do things better.

And I guess it had to happen sooner or later. Unfortunately for me, it's just too hot in the summer here to wear a cape and mask. Maybe if I just fought crime indoors.

And, finally, in other caped news... Apparently somebody had the right idea. I just hope this same rule doesn't apply here when Jamie and I drop a litter.

worked on this last night and finally decided to publish...

X-Men 2.

No, I haven't seen it yet, but as a fan of the later Claremont-era (and if you know what that means, it's time to readjust the tape holding together your glasses), I will drop my $8 and go to the show.

My issue is not with the movie, but with how comic-book movies are reviewed. Every comic-book movie review now contains a couple of items:

1) this movie is NOT your typical comic book movie

There is no typical comic-book movie. One cannot say they are all low-budget, nor can one say that they draw only B-Level actors, or have substandard effects. From a plot perspective, comparing Spider-Man’s story to Batman’s works only as well as comparing X-Men to Donner’s Superman or Corman’s Fantastic Four or the upcoming Hulk and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (recently re-titled, The League). I’m not sure what golden era of comic-book film franchising that critics are referring to, but I think we’re in the middle of it.

2) the critic/ author has been shocked by the loyalty of their fanboy friends who come out of the closet with a "yay" or "nay" opinion

To draw an analogy that could explain the dismay the fanboys feel: Sex and the City is a widely enjoyed television program. Now, just imagine if a film were commissioned of Sex and the City, but the creators of the film refused to watch the television program or read a single script before actually releasing their own Sex and the City movie. Now imagine NOT wanting to compare and contrast the two.

There’s understandably precious little sympathy for fanboys, and I wouldn’t suggest that comic readers should get more respect than they deserve. What I would suggest is that most people who talk in generalities about comics are talking about a cover of a comic they saw on a spinner-rack at the Piggly Wiggly when they were in 5th grade. Sure, they know what a comic looks like, but they have no appreciation for the comic, anymore than the average layman can appreciate different performances of classical music, or the variations on a standard performed by various jazz musicians.

For about 20 years the sophistication of certain comics has been lauded in the mainstream press (invariably with the tagline that “comics aren’t for kids”. Sometimes the adult skewing readership stats are cited). Hell, at this point "V for Vendetta", one of the best comics of the 80's is pushing 20.
My basic understanding is this: most folks don’t realize how much comics changed in 1963 with Marvel’s first publications and base their ideas of comics on the Batman TV show. So, when someone in a cape and tights isn’t posturing for the police, it’s considered different.

The bottom line is that comics have been telling detailed stories for years, and film makers have treated the source material the same way they treat all source material (anyone remember the happy ending to Demi Moore's Scarlet Letter?). Sometimes the results work, and sometimes they do not. Punishing comics and comic readers because film makers routinely deal with the material irresponsibly is as silly as condemning anyone who ever fell into love because romantic comedies might be tepid and silly.

3) this movie is a metaphor for something or other

Science-Fiction has always been a reaction to the trends and fears of a particular time. I shouldn’t even have to address this, yet with every review, there it is... It’s insulting. Stories don’t need to just be tidy melodramas. Sometimes you have to disguise your political viewpoint in spandex and capes so you don’t get hauled in by the thought police.

Science-fiction makes a lot of people uncomfortable, perhaps because of the parallels. Perhaps they really do not want to bother to try to understand the fictional issues and explanations and internal logic of the implausible situation being discussed. And that’s fine. Or maybe they don't appreciate serious issues being played out by Mutant Masters of Magnetism because in their eyes that diminishes the real issue. Fine. I can accept that. But when you’re a fan of “Sex and the City,” you’ve already defaulted any ability to point to the stories you watch as “plausible”.

4) this time around, the character seem to have been given some emotional depth

Critics such as Entertainment Weekly’s Lisa Schwarzbaum rarely admit that they have enjoyed any film that contains anything resembling a fantasy element. Each time any iota of enjoyment begins to be derived, a feeling of guilt begins to creep in around the edges. (See how many times Schwarzbaum sites Harry Potter in the review whenever she gets close to praising it, extinguishing the fact that X-Men predates Potter by 30+ years, and the screen version debuted a full year earlier than the movie, while simultaneously re-establishing the idea that Harry Potter is for children, and so is this. Thus, if you enjoy this, you are, by default, childish. And childish wonder might result in.. well, we know it's probably bad. So we'll stick to lauding French films.).

Since Batman watched his parents get gunned down in an alleyway in 1939, the motives of comic characters have skewed toward the extreme. Perhaps critics are once again citing the 1960’s Batman TV show or some TV movies Marvel produced. It’s difficult to gauge exactly why characters whom have existed for 40+ years should be thought to have never developed any emotional depth. Still, since Christopher Reeve wore the cape in Superman The Motion Picture, the fact that these characters do more than stand around looking like a dentifrice commericial has been gawked at. Since then results have been admittedly mixed, but so what?

Comic fans, myself included, hyperventilate when comic-based movies are bad because we know it’s just one more nail in the coffin. During the recent Superman debacle, fans protested because we know that companies like Warner Bros. would rather not ever refer to the comics when exploiting a license like Superman and allow “creatives” to take license with characters they "own." The damage this can cause to the property in its original format can take years to get through, and we know it. We're the kids who have to deal with the divorce after mom and dad are off living their new lives.

So should movies be only a dreary parade which supposedly mirrors our own lives? Christ, i hope not. What fun are movies if you can’t go to see Spider-Man swing off the Empire State Building, anyway? Or the Hulk toss a tank? Or Batman hop in his Batmobile or Superman take to the sky? Where is this supposed to happen? Movies should be able to be fun for adults as well as children. Sometimes movies throw in a helpful bit of a message, too. (I am often able to apply how With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility). But fantasy should not be ridiculed for being fantasy. There can be far more truth hiding in those capes and cowls than in the usual Nora Ephron debacle.

I hope the trend continues and audiences can enjoy the comic-based movies, even if they do not look for the comics. The basic stories can be, and sometimes are, very good. And after a lifetime of enjoyment, we comic geeks can walk out of a theater and look at our shoes and smile and know that we were right when we said "if they'd just give the comic a chance..."

Returned from Austin, TX today after my first weekend there in about 11 months. I feel like 5 miles of bad road, but it was good to be back in the Capital City.

Anyway, the city looks good, and I have mixed feelings about the trip.

Today I am in mourning. Trenyce has been voted off of American Idol. I have no reason to go on.

You might recall I was mentioning the 80's nostalgia craze in comics a few entires ago. Well, next Wednesday, Voltron is making a return, but this time in comics.


why do robots need noses or mouths?

My head has been swimming since yesterday when Jim D. compared me to both Paul Lynde and John McCain in his pitch for my blog, which you're currently reading. This gave me a moment of pause as I don't follow politics all that closely, and my knowledge of Paul Lynde is mostly associated with a conversation i had in an elevator about how a Hanna Barbera character sounded just like him, but was it Snagglepuss or that fox guy? I always saw myself more as Yogi Bear, although I often fancied myself to be a bit like QuickDraw McGraw or Ted Kennedy.

Anyway, I was forced to ask myself, what do Paul Lynde and McCain have in common? And then it struck me... Both McCain and Lynde spent YEARS trapped in enclosed spaces (McCain in a tiger cage, Lynde in a Square). One had a horrifying experience which led him to decide to make a run at becoming the most powerful man on earth, and the other became a US Senator who did some finance reform thingie.

Like most folks, once I hear what people think of me personally, I obsess over the how's and why's of their opinion, read way too much into it, and then do nothing to actually change my more annoying habits. I now see my blog as the rantings of a near-broken Snagglepuss trapped in a tiger cage in Vietnam. Enjoy!

Jim D. Has been kind enough to advertise my blog. I think that was what he was doing, anyway. Either that or he's pointing me out to the NSA for immediate termination. It's hard to tell from the analogy.

In his honor, I point to this link.

Thank you, Jim.

Everyday between 7:55 and 8:10, my whole building rumbles once or twice with a low, rolling "boom." I work in a second floor office of what is essentially supposed to be retail space, just off Mill and University in Tempe. This rumbling has long been a mystery to me as it genuinely feels as if a bomb has gone off, but the sound never quite lives up to the catastrophic "boom" I thought an explosion should sound like. So I thought, well, maybe something explodes everyday across the street, and nobody has told me. Yet, I also assumed that if someone were detonating explosives beneath us everyday, sooner or later the property manager would let us know for our own safety.

Yesterday I found out it's just an enormous loading door on the side of the building slamming shut. What a let down.

Toys That Should Not Be

Here's the crackalackin' shiznizzle.

Wow, no sooner have we secured Iraq, than the toy guys are ON IT!!!

Went to a very strange place today for lunch. It's a new place in Tempe called eJoy. It's a freaking cybercafe. It felt so very 1996, and I felt old and unoptimistic. It was also dead empty and playing ambient techno. They're charging for computer usage by the minute. All in all, a weird scene, but my sandwhich was good, and I enjoyed my Berry Fruitea. I wish we were still in the bubble economy. That was a fun time, wasn't it?

Hurray for PBS. Last night was the premier of PBS's short-run reality series: Manor House. It's one in a series of PBS shows documenting modern folks trying to recreate a lifestyle of a bygone era. Manor House takes on the realities of the British Costume Drama and attempts to look at life in the world of Upstairs, Downstairs. A family has been selected to play the role of Lords of the Manor, and several others have been selected to act as chef, scullery maid, butler, footman, etc... in an authentic manor house somewhere in England. Resources are limited to items commonly found in 1906, or those less commonly found in 1906, such as phones, cars, etc...

It's not a show with winners and losers, but a social experiment to see how 21st century folks can deal with the very real details of existence of yesteryear. It makes for very interesting television.

They've done previous versions of the show, with Frontierhouse (the show which made me feel like I am but half-a-man), 1900 House, and they did one on being in London during the Blitz, but I can't find the name of the show nor the web-site. All were imminently fascinating.

When you're done watching American Idol tonight, flip over to Smallville (Hurray, Superman!), but when that's over, consider flipping over to PBS to watch some of Manor House. They're currently running it in 2 hour episodic chunks, which seems like a lot of TV, but it goes by very quickly.

Happy 3rd Wedding Anniversary to Jamie and me. It's been 3 magical, fun-filled years. No, that is not me. That is Melbotis. Note the attention payed to the tennis ball in the corner of the frame.

Ahhhh.... The Suburbs.

Jamie and I, in our eternal voyage to find something resembling entertainment in the Greater Chandler area, went to the Chandler Jazz Festival this weekend. The event kind of highlighted everything that's more or less wrong with Chandler.

The event was put on with the gusto of an elementary school carnival, complete with the little light up necklaces filled with carcinogens and radium. We arrived some time around 7:15, wandering down Arizona Avenue across from the City Municipal building. There were swarms of middle-aged white folk, and we heard not a note or lick of music, and for some reason, there was a hot-air balloon being set-up in the little park area. For a split second I feared we'd stumbled into some sort of AARP riot, but as we passed Razzleberry's, I finally heard some yokel singing.

We were assaulted by someone I assumed was a bum (although, honestly, i've yet to see any bums in Chandler) who then tried to get Jamie and I to buy a CD. For some reason he had decided i must be a musician (probably because I was under 45 and had no children with me.)

Chandler is to children as New York is to
a) Pidgeons
b) Roaches
c) Rats
d) Would-be-actors/ waiters
e) All of the Above

The answer is: A) Pidgeons. The only difference is kids can't fly out of the way when you really hit the gas. The answer is not E) because that would encompass answer d) and as we all know would-be-actors/ waiters have hope, and hope is not a commodity that springs forth freely in Chandler, AZ.

Anyway, I don't know much about Jazz, but I know it generally has little to do with hot-air balloons or children or the single worst faux-Mardi Gras parade knock-off ever. Baptist churches probably do a better job than this at emulating the genuine Mardi Gras experience. 10 Golf carts with fat suburbanites throwing beads at old women (whom I was PRAYING would not do the usual to collect their beads) somehow didn't make me wonder if I were lost on Bourbon street. Or maybe it did. It was like someone had once seen Mardi Gras on TV and had spent 10 years dreaming up how to make it worse.

At 8:00 we retired to the Kikko-something Winery/ Bistro where I tried to get drunk, but not so drunk I couldn't drive home. A trio was playing inside to little or no applause. Solos were met with round indifference, and eventually the drummer started purposely banging really hard just to annoy people. The desire to own my own drum swelled within my heart.

At 8:15 they knocked off, and, curiously, no one replaced the band. At 8:40 Jamie and I stepped out onto Arizona avenue and across the street once again to Razzleberry's where we had a rootbeer float to soak up the booze. We re-emerged onto the street, and at 9:00pm, I realized that not only had the Jazz festival already ended (with a whimper), but they were closing down all of downtown Chandler.

I don't know what I was expecting out of the Jazz festival, but like everything else in Arizona, there was a concept and absolutely no follow-through. And is it really that good of an idea to schedule against the New Orleans Jazz Festival? The concept of a desirable headline act clearly eluded the organizers as well as the concept of any actual venues or artists.

I'm not saying I didn't have fun, because I did. And I found out the San Marcos hotel is an historical landmark where luminaries such as Jimmy Stewart once golfed and vacationed. I just wish that just once, something in Arizona would appear to have been thought out with a little more strategy than a 3rd grade play.

Apparently we missed Queen Creek, Arizona's "Country Thunder", a two day musical event where lots and lots of white trash tends to get arrested. Next year I'm going to that.

News Item from Thursday:

WASHINGTON (AP) -- Illegal immigrants could be held indefinitely without bond if their cases present national security concerns, under a decision by Attorney General John Ashcroft.

Well, as we all know, these sorts of rules are always applied fairly to everyone and are never abused by overzealous law-enforcement officials. God bless Ashcroft and his refusal to tell Congress or the press why the DOJ currently has still dozens, if not hundreds in the cooler who have not seen a judge since Fall of 2001. What, exactly, is the DOJ doing with them? And why has it taken two years? For a gov't that takes pot shots at other countriies for making off with people in the dead of night for them never to return, we're starting to do some odd things.

link here and here and here and for a timeline, click here

Just last week here at ASU. we had our own excitement.

From the Arizona Republic: Agents from a federal task force raided the homes of Muslim student leaders at Arizona State University early this week, searching for weapons and seizing computers and disks.

Oh.... shit.

Deputy Director General Li Gun, Pyongyang's representative to the talks, made a "blatant and bold" announcement that his country had nuclear weapons, and asked U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for East Asian Affairs James Kelly, "What are you going to do about it?" a source told CNN.

read the article here.

this is worth checking out.

He came to drop bombs.
Last night I came home to a powerful stink. Mel had dropped the P-Bomb in my office. The stench was unbearable, and I now I need to clean the carpets in a way they've never been cleaned before. Ahhhh... pet ownership. I will say, 3 years of partying down and this is the first serious accident.


The Mad Bomber himself.

Because of the location of the poo, I kind of believe that this was an act of revenge. I was gone all weekend, I left him with strange people, and then I didn't even have the courtesy to stay home with him for a day or two. We have many rooms in our home, and many less conspicuous places. I mean, how else is he going to voice his displeasure? I just hope this is an isolated incident.

Modern Angst:

The ATM machine ate my card. I have only $31.00 to last me from now until I can figure out how to deal with this debacle. I feel adrift.

How drunk was this guy?

and, oh yeah...

Go Spurs!

and sometimes you wish your birthday were just around the corner again...
There's an 80's nostalgia craze going on in the comic book world right now. Browsing Comics Infinity, I came across this little number. He-Man, Thundercats, GI Joe and Transformers have all seen life breathed back into long dormant franchises. But all of these things already had a certain appeal to comicfandom, lame as they all kind of are. Well, Transformers aren't lame. But He-Man, that idea only ever appealed to the skinny kids who thought D&D was too complicated.
And I remember playing with My Little Pony as a kid. Actually, I don't, because My Little Pony went beyond feminine and cutesy and all the things that make little boys wretch, and surely my brother would have kicked my ass if he's seen me even eyeing these little atrocities.
My Little Pony looked like food and wasn't, which was always the greatest crime of all (not that I ever choked on a My Little Pony trying to see if it had a creamy inside...). These things were maybe $0.15 worth of plasticized rubber and some leftover Barbie Hair, and had amazing adventures that included eating grass and pooping with impunity in a wild array of rainbow colors. I guess when you're all pastel and have names like Applesunshine and Flowernose, it's hard to reenact the classic struggle of good vs. evil (let this be a lesson to the UN Security Council). Maybe I lacked imagination, but between my eternal lust for the GI Joe Aircraft carrier and my unfulfilled desire to own my own Megatron, the appeal was lost on me.
Anyway, I guess I see what they're going for with the nostalgia thing, but. I mean, really... even assuming that comic fans have girlfriends who they might buy this for is a bit of a stretch...

Watched a good chunk of the Ten Commandments on ABC tonight. Think of what his politics what you will, I love me some Cheston.

Jesus H. Christ.

Not able to avoid certain disaster, I had tickets to fly on American Airlines to Lawton, Oklahoma over the weekend. As the big airlines suffer and continue to point to peoples fears over terrorism and war, etc... as anxieties leading to their financial ruin, I suggest this is only partially true. The truth is that the economy slowed for reasons having more to do with a sudden realization that the internet is just a computerized catalog. So people have lost their jobs, and those who did work really couldn't afford to go off and travel as much anymore. And jobless people tend not to WANT to travel as much. At least not by plane. Hence, a lighter lode on the air-o-planes.
But all that aside, I try not to fly because the airline industry is a monopolistic behemoth which charges you hundreds for worse service than one gets for a buck on public transportation.

On my way to Lawton, America on Thursday, upon my arrival in Dallas (my connecting city) that I was being bumped and could either take a voucher and travel on the morning or get bumped and take no voucher and travel in the morning if I did not volunteer to give up my seat. Keep in mind, I bought my tickets around December 12th for this weekend's voyage.
"Why am I bumped?" "The plane is too heavy." "Are you saying I can't fly because I'm fat?" "No sir. The plane is too heavy." "You mean you overbooked." "No, we don't do that. The plane is too heavy." "But isn't the plane engineered to hold as much weight as there are seats?" "I wouldn't know." "So it's overbooked." "No sir, we don't do that."

When I asked why I was bumped over others, I was told that I had bought "restricted tickets." "I don't remember buying restricted tickets," I replied. "What is a restricted ticket?" "It's restricted." "But what are the restrictions?" "It's a restricted ticket. It means you get bumped." "But how did these people choose NOT to travel with restricted tickets?" "They didn't buy restricted tickets." "Neither did I." "You did, sir." And so it went.

So I went to my wife and told her our situation, and immediately she lost her mind. "But," I said, "we can stay in a free hotel, and fly out first thing tomorrow." "No," I was told.

So I went back to the desk. "No," I said. I had already been marked as a volunteer for even CONSIDERING this course of action. We were bumped already.
Anyway, we told them "we're renting a car and driving." "We will not pay for a car." "How about a refund on the ticket we can't use?" "We can't do that. We can put you in a hotel." "That makes no sense." "You can talk to our agent at the ticket sales" (which, if you've gone through DFW, one would know, was literally miles away from the A Terminal Annex). "I want a refund." "You can't. You bought a restricted ticket." "I don't understand." "You're making money. This voucher is worth more than your ticket." "Yes," I did not say, "But i will never fly your fucking ludicrous airline again even if it's with the promise of a floorshow and free booze."

So we drove some insane miles to Lawton from Dallas. We had a nice weekend and returned to Phoenix. Of course I now have no idea where my checked bag is.

"Was it on the plane?" "I don't know." "Did it get on the plane in lawton." "I don't know that, sir." "Nobody scans the luggage before it gets on the plane or when it gets off?" "No sir." "So you have no idea where it is?" "No, sir."

I have heard economists on the radio talk about how American and the other failing airlines cannot compete with the likes of SOuthwest, but that there is an inherent goodness to American because of the class of service one provides. To this I say: horseshit. The airlines have always bilked those of us relegated to the cattle car cabins, and we've always taken it, so enamored with the rapidity of transport. Do these economists actually ever ride in coach? Do they not see the thin line between this and a cross-town bus?

And at all this, their management, whose idea of an improvement is forcing the captive audience to watch Everybody Loves Raymond, has now cut deals where flight attendants, baggage handlers, mechanics and pilots will all be losing huge portions of their pay. Well done, American Airlines. And I want my damn bag back, and it better have everything in it, or I'm claiming the world's craziest insurance bonanza you've ever seen.

I think GW should cut $550 billion from the budget, but there's no reason to actually change tax laws. He apparently felt he should refund certain taxpayers around $300 a while back. At least that's what I got. I immediately spent the money on strippers and gum. The plan worked for me, and I think it can work again.

If we have $550 billion we can trim (but we don't change tax laws), and say that there are 300 million Americans, each one of them could get back around $1833.333333 That's a pretty sweet deal. But something tells me that I will NOT be getting back $1833.33. Something tells me that I will have to wait for that money to trickle down to me after At&T and Enron take a big ol' tax break that will change my phone bill $1.00 a year and $5.00 on my electric bill. Whoo-hoo.

But just imagine if this WAS the plan. And not just $1833.33 per tax payer, but per person (at 300 million Americans). That's 349.2 hours of work at minimum wage of $5.25 an hour. Or 8.7 weeks of 40 hour work weeks. Imagine being in the family with three kids and being a working single mom and getting a check for $7333.33 from Uncle Sam. That's 1396.82 hours, or roughly 34.9 weeks at 40 hours. Just imagine the added opportunity and benefits, and no messy government bureaucracy that tax dollars are forced to support.

My point is, taxes are not what is killing companies, it's the fact people don't have jobs to spend money (which gets a sales tax), and then companies don't have money the government can tax in return. Now imagine a sudden influx of $550 billion in the hands of the public. After we got done spending money on strippers and gum, there might still be around $200 left for other things; Taxable things bought from taxable companies.

If my plan works (and it surely will) next year the economy should be humming along like an economic perpetual motion machine. Until inflation points out once again, that money is an imaginary concept made tangible by tiny slips of green paper, and in which case, never held any intrinsic value anyway. So if my plan does take hold, I suggest you stock up on ammunition and clean water, because by the time the plan runs through to it's logical conclusion, it's going to be Thunderdome in the major cities.

I'm taking a page from Jim's blog to post the strangest path anyone as of yet has used to stumble blindly upon this blog. Someone googled in with the following search: saddam art patrick nagel

I was duped. I admit it. On April 1st I reported, falsely, that the Superman statue in Metropolis Illinois had been stolen. Read the update here. While I had my suspicions it might be a prank, it seemed like a hell of a lot of work. Honestly, I guess I just didn't find it that far fetched that in a small town, some Cleetus might back his truck up to a Superman statue and take off with it as an April fools prank of his own. And keep in mind, the guy who wrote the article moved from California to Metropolis so he could open a Superman museum, so you can understand when I believed his distress.

Anyway, I hope anyone who read the initial story can breathe easier now. I go now to hang my head in shame.

best song ever

for more incredibly interesting audio bits with which to waste your day, go here.

Advertisers frequently make the misstep of assuming folks would like to see their food anthropomorphized. I've never really known what urge there is to make my food cute. A lot of my food once was cute. Cows certainly have a stupid, endearing quality that, if you really got to know your cow, you probably would choose to not want to eat it. That is, living in America where we always have the option of NOT eating our pets, you might not want to eat your cow, unlike, say, in Canada, where you might eat your own children.

The love hang-over has set in back in Iraq. Already the Iraqis are taking to the streets in anti-Bush demonstrations as US forces have failed to instate anything resembling order. Man, that freedom of speech thing is a bear, isn't it? It sounds like Tommy F. and the crew are now instilling a little Martial Law to keep the peace.

In their best efforts to prove the arm-chair conspiracy theorists right, the US is now looking at Syria all twitchy. Just this morning I heard the first rumblings about Syria having chemical weapons. Lest we forget that about a month ago, the Pentagon assured us that Iraq is stocked to the gills with WoMD, yet these weapons have made no appearances during the conflict, and every report that something had been found has turned out to be a false alarm. Sooner or later something WILL turn up, the foreign press is really leaning on this issue now, so something is going to have to be found. But as things progress, I bet we can all just forget about those ties the White House insisted existed between Hussein and Bin laden. With the palaces levelled and Saddam atomized, the evidence will be declared too confusing and lost to history. Already those things are swept beneath the rug. Now it's going to be all about getting US MIA's and POWs home, which is a good thing, but the fighting has not yet ceased.

It also appears Saddam should have been sending his interior decorator to the firing squad instead of wasting his time with all of those dissidents. From the sounds of it, Saddam was into a little kink and Boris Vallejo art, or else had his D&D playing nephew with the problem getting dates to do his living room. One wonders what further treasure troves of questionable taste our GI's will continue to uncover?

Rumsfeld must be rolling on the floor of the Pentagon proclaiming he saw Goody Syria with the devil. Now we're told Syria has weapons, and, no doubt, will be shown to be the magician with the pack of cards up it's sleeve. Waving absolutely zero evidence in front of the media, and tossing in those all-too-familiar terms of "terrorism" and "Weapons of mass destruction", the State Department and Pentagon are looking for the sort of bare-ass-in-the-air cooperation that they will later insist means nothing unless we use some Sherman tanks to check it out for ourselves. Powell is looking at sanctions against the Syrians (probably because sanctions elicited such a swift response from Saddam & crew), and has taken to playing the Reverend Hale to Syria's John Proctor. Syria will have to prove they have no ties to terrorism and no weapons, which is, of course, as realistic and sensible as tossing yourself off a cliff to prove you can't fly and are therefore not a witch. This very problem is why we generally operate under the rule that burden of proof is on the accuser. Apparently when it comes to international law or inconvenience, we toss that rule aside. All Syria has to do to save themselves is sign the confession. No problem.

Anyone want to place bets that Iran starts getting the stink eye next?

For year three in a row I did not fulfill my one birthday wish to kick back and watch The Searchers. I don't know why I express this is my one goal every birthday. I suppose it's because watching The Searchers is the one thing nobody else I know will want to do. Theres' something vaguely empowering about forcing others into your corner just because it's your birthday, but the fact that I STILL have not gotten top watch my movie should be evidence enough that I'm still not getting my way. But this year, that was nobody's fault but my own.

Anyway, I head off for my 29th revolution around El Sol, visors down and teeth bared to the wind, and maybe this is the year I seize control of Spaceship Earth.

Happy Birthday to me. Today I am 28. This gives me a moment of pause.

I promised myself when I reached college that by 30, I would have rung up nearly $500K in debt, be living on a boat, and routinely be snorting cocaine off the buttocks of strippers. Unless I really get cracking, I'm not sure how this is going to happen.