We had a lovely weekend.

Saturday we arrived at my folks' place, dropped off Melbotis, discovered my parents' air conditioner had died, got ready and then headed for Erica and Scott's big night.

The location wasn't too far off 288 in South Houston. It was a lovely, outdoor ceremony at dusk. The ceremony went off without a hitch, although I later heard rumors that the bride's mom had somehow disappeared prior to the ceremony and this caused some backstage consternation (no drama, she had just wandered off or something).

The reception was similarly lovely. Erica and I went to high school together, but whereas I showed up for the last three years of high school, Erica had lived in the same area since she was five. Therefore, there were a lot of faces at the wedding that I sorta-recognized, but was unable to put a name with. Aside from one, who, of course, had no recollection of me at all. And in this manner the cosmic wheel doles out justice.

Did some dancing, including some of my patented "Robot". Jamie looked totally foxy, so I got to appear as the guy with the cookie on his arm. Go, me.

Returned to Shannon and Josh's place, chatted a bit, got some sleep, and then got up in the morning yesterday for the post-wedding breakfast (which began at 8:00). The breakfast was obviously thought up by people who didn't plan on hanging near the bar at the wedding. Anyhoo, that was nice, and we got to see the bride and groom looking a little less stunned as they made their morning rounds.

Yesterday was Jamie's birthday, and I think my presents were sort of a dud, but she seemed happy enough. Shannon and Josh were nice enough to drop by for dinner.

I also found out (last, as always) that Julie B., wife of Cousin John, is expecting. Bully news, I say. John and Julie are great folks and will make ace parents, I have no doubt.

Today we dropped off Jamie at dialysis, I had lunch, then hit the road. It's raining like crazy in Austin, which I drove into around Giddings. It was all right. During Heather's recent visit, she'd loaned me a book-on-CD of Stephen King's "Dreamcatcher".

I haven't read any King since, maybe, middle-school. And somehow it's comforting to hear King's paid-by-the-word approach to a novel, with his squarely believable characters who eat the same junk you do, get hung up on the same minutia as your neighbors and are usually written awfully close to the folks you already know. In a way, it's sort of stunning how difficult a task that must be for writers to achieve. the Joe Averages who populate most novels are there specifically to remind you that average people are quirky and bizarre in their own way... But King's books are more interested in putting folks that could be you into some odd situations.

One of my great dis-satisfactions of trolling the New Fiction aisle at Barnes & Noble is that the characters all too often might as well appear in books down in the sci-fi and fantasy book sections for as much relevance as they have to my daily life. The kid winning the spelling bee with seemingly supernatural talent, the lonely widower bee keeper, the Indian kid stuck in a boat with a tiger, the Chinese peasant's family getting the tar kicked out of them for generations, the rich scenester with the tell-all about how they realized life isn't about doing copious amounts of blow, the Addams Family/dysfunctional family yarn... It's exciting to write about exciting people, no doubt. And we've all sat in a class where someone mistook their life for being worthy of novelization. So I'm not sure what the happy medium might be that I'm looking for.

That's not a knock on those books, it's much more of a knock on my own taste and patience. All stories worth telling, but none of which dwell anywhere near anything resembling the life of Bill and Kathy Armswagger in Goober Springs, Alabama. It's an oddity of the legacy of American Fiction that the person who may chronicle this period in the US most accurately might do so with stories of killer cars, rabid dogs and weird clown/ spiders. His characters are not just projections of who King wishes he could be, or cooler people living cooler lives than the author which King actually manages to swing...

That said, King still drives me nuts with his endless parenthetical asides (a crime which should be outlawed in any form of writing. It distracts, is tangential, and never really adds to the narrative at hand). I guess I'm mostly a glutton for narrative economy, possibly a by-product of reading too many comics and reading screenplays where much of the action is shown, not told. And I certainly see the flaws of which I feel guilty on the page in his work. Sometimes you wish he would simply kill his darlings... But what editor is going to tell King how to write at this point in his career?

That said, without the asides, how much of that detail I admire would survive? I'm conflicted, Leaguers.

Listening to it can be taxing, when you just want for him to describe the important action, not some-body's goofy hat.

I got through 3 discs today as I took an extra hour on taking The Admiral and KareBear's official shortcut from Manor to 71, and, I believe, missing a turn at 183. Then getting stuck in the molasses of Austin's traffic, when one adds in rain.

Jeff The Cat is quite happy that someone is home, and in a bit I'll head down to Jason's house to retrieve Lucy, whose been inside all day at Jason's. Tonight will be fun.

Flyin' A's, kidneys, weddings

It's been an okay week. We're headed out tomorrow for the wedding of Erica F., taking place somewhere in the greater Houston area. Erica's an old pal of mine from my days in high school, who wound up as one of Jamie's roommates in college. So, yeah, we go back a piece. Actually, if memory serves, Erica and I were tied for ranking in our high school class.

I've not actually met the husband-to-be as he came into the picture while we were in PHX, but early reports have been extremely positive. The bottom line is that I like a good party, and as long as they keep the ceremony short, who doesn't like a good wedding, too? It gives you a chance to really space out until the "I Do's" and the applause. I am unsure how much dancing I'll be doing at the ceremony, but I suppose I shall have to put in another round of doing The Robot.

I'm returning Monday, but Jamie (and Melbotis) will remain in Houston for most of the week. I have some business to attend to in Austin, but Jamie's getting worked up at Methodist Hospital in order to get back on the kidney recipient list. So, Karebear is taking jamie under wing and will be managing that detail. I feel sort of bad about not being there, but I don't think the procedures are going to be terribly upsetting or invasive. If they are, I guess I'm headed back to Houston.

Depending upon your religious preference, I would ask that all of you GET ON THE ORGAN DONOR'S LIST and then INFORM YOUR RELATIVES AS PER YOUR WISHES. If you die and your organs can be donated, many families refuse to go along with the checked box on the driver's license indicating organ and tissue donation. Understandably, it's an emotional time, and many people going through the grieving process may not wish to think about organ donation at one of the roughest times in their life. SO... make sure you speak up beforehand.

Last night we went to see Hilary and Stuart's band, The Flyin' A's, play at Artz Ribhouse. Turns out they're really very good, which i sort of knew, but it was my first time seeing them live, and they more than confirmed my suspicions. The Flyin' A's play some nice Texas country, but covered some Etta James and Johnny Cash as well. They play all the time, and I don't have a very good excuse as per why we haven't gone out to see them, but that's going to change. Folks in Austin (or other places they play (they go on tour this summer) should check them out. Our San Antonio contingent should know they're playing at Specht's on Saturday evening.

http://www.theflyinas.com/


Hope all is well with all of ya'll.

McNewspeak

When I was in high school, I first came across the term "McJob" in Douglas Coupland's book Generation X.

McJob: (page 5)

A low-pay, low-prestige, low-dignity, low-benefit, no-future job in the service sector. Frequently considered a satisfying career choice by people who have never held one.

And I think that last bit is the sinker.

Anyhow, it appears McDonald's is outraged that the job of burger flipper/ burger warmer is not held in the highest of esteem.

Read about it here.

Apparently unaware of how the English language works, McDonalds has started an effort to convince those they see as the "owners" of language that they've not given the term "McJob" a fair shake and seen the word the way their corporate decision makers would like the world to see the term "McJob". Oddly, these chroniclers of the language seem to go with how billions of English-speaking people use the term. What to do when you're an enormous corporation and you can't buy your way out of your sorry reputation as an employer.

From the article:

The Oxford English Dictionary, considered by many wordsmiths as the gold standard for the English language, is one of those that will be targeted. It defines the noun as "an unstimulating, low-paid job with few prospects, esp. one created by the expansion of the service sector."

I get freaked out by Newspeak at the best of times, but when you get the feeling a corporation is considering doing something pretty vile to try to demolish an image that's been somewhat fairly earned... I dunno. Kind of freaky. Rather than cowboy up and address the issue, is it really that much better to publicly take on the Dictionary?

Somehow, this generates images in my head of the burger wars from the mostly not-discussed Frank Miller comic "Give Me Liberty" in which the US goes to war to protect fast food cows in the Amazon.

I don't want for anyone to misconstrue this particular rant for some sort of disrespect for the hard working burgermeisters who prepare my fast food. The League has not worked fast food, but... We DID work at Chuck E. Cheese, which is mediocre, slowly produced food delivered in a temple in which all pizza eating worshippers must halt eating and conversation in reverence to a mechanical gigantic mouse in a hat. We swept up pizza crusts, handed out tokens to kids when the machine "ate" their token, oversaw the ball crawl*, and polished the vertical bars on the mini-carousel. I've slung records at the Camelot and pimped Tinkerbell shirts at the Disney Store. There is such a thing as a job where the downers (usually created by inept or negative management) greatly outweigh the $4.75 an hour. In two of these three jobs I was asked to wear an ill-fitting and humiliating uniform (we actually requested silver jumpsuits to wear when I worked at UT. Request denied). And had managers that, on a good day, were indifferent to me at best.

I had no skills, no experience, no future within the organization, and was constantly reminded of as much. If not for school and the promise of becoming a middle-class wage slave, I might have given in to the gripping despair that one can only find when told to keep glass doors clean in a restuarant full of children who've been handling pizza, tokens, tickets, and wiping snot on their own palms. For $4.25 or whatever minimum wage was in 1990.

But I also lived with my parents, and/or was earning supplemental money while in school which my folks generously assisted with. I am not an eighteen year old kid living in Goober Springs, Alabama where options are McDonalds or tending to my Uncle's Used Tire Emporium. So when that kid hears "McJob", I have no idea what he or she must think. But I hope to God that with the power of television and our educational system, Buddy McBarnes from Goober Springs at least knows that there may be more opportunity available than what ends when you pass the Exxon and it's all trees again along the freeway.

Thusly, mad respect for folks in the service industry, but I also know that the bright-eyed promising student is far and few between who says "I want to spend my life earning minimum wage and microwaving McMuffins."

Curiously, the CEO of McDonald's from a few years back was once a burger pimp, himself. Here's an article from when someone died and Bell took over.

Bell began his career with the fast-food chain at age 15 as a part-time crew member at a McDonald's restaurant in Sydney, Australia.

He became the company's youngest store manager in Australia at 19, a vice president at 27 and a member of the McDonald's Australia board of directors by the time was 29 years old.

"This is an absolutely right choice," said S&P's Milton. "Cantalupo relied on Bell a lot for crafting the turnaround. This is someone who has been with the company for a significant period of time."

That's awesome. I bet Bell's staff is made up entirely of the crew he started with at that Australian McDonald's**. What happened to you, Bell? You used to be from the street, dawg! You knew what it was to flip a burger and clean up some kids' barf from the McDonaldland Playscape!*** You sold out, Bell. You sold out.

Minimum wage isn't really the thrust of the phrase "McJob". A McJob is more about the drudgery of many jobs that's cropped up since the Industrial Revolution as people become cogs in an assembly line, whether that be McDonalds employees leaping into action when the frier makes that awful "WHEEEEEEEEEEET! WHEEEEEEEEEEEET!" noise. Or whether that person is wearing a tie, sitting in a cube where they can't be seen, anyway, and calling people to donate to the Austin Policemen's Charity (the tie makes you all professional-like).

There's something far more frightening about the white-collar McJob. It's a job intended to mark time, is mostly insulting to the intelligence, and can usually be identified by how often the manager insists that they are a professional of some sort and how unnecessarily cumbersome the tasks assigned to wage slave actually are. Usually because nobody ever bothered to ask the employees how to improve the processes they do all day, which the executives have never actually performed. But they DO pay well enough, these jobs... and there's not necessarily the same sense of temporary employment that pervades when one is loaned their pants and told they must return them when they quit. And, of course, in the white-collr McJob, you are surrounded by lots of other people all doing the same job, many of whom have been their for years and never once considered a promotion.

What's curious is that McDonalds is going after the dictionary in the same manner they go after our elected officials whenever it's suggested the minimum wage see an increase. As I recall, in order to try to dodge out of some legislation or other that might effect the bottomline, McDonald's attempted to reassign their employees from the food-prep category to some sort of assembly line technician. I can't find it now, but in my commute in PHX, I recall hearing the story on NPR.

Perhaps if McDonalds paid a bit better, perhaps if the drudgery of the position wasn't punctuted only with being shouted at by furious managers and customers... McDonalds might be able to actually convince those of us who've used the term "McJob" without blinking for fifteen years to drop the term if their employees did not always look miserable and their turnover wasn't well known as one of the highest turnover positions in any industry. (As someone who has managed part time employees, turn over is a huge time killer and makes managers grumpy.)









*some new parents read this blog. I beseech of thee, if you care at all for your health or the health and safety of your children... do not let your child enter a public ball crawl. New parents don't want to think about this, but little kids are germ factories. Not only are they perpetually ill, they also have no concept of hygiene, and will wipe their nose with their hands and then leap into the ball crawl. It is IMPOSSIBLE to clean the balls in the ball crawl. And dozens and dozens of kids pass through a ball crawl each day, leaving their trail of germs on everything.

Also, while your child may be an angel, other kids are irresponsible horrors with no respect for their safety or that of anyone else. So expect for your kid to get a shin to the back of the head.

And last, but not least... and i can't believe I have to share this, but I speak from experience... Ball crawls are not a good place for infants. Do not toss your infant into the ball crawl in the high hopes that the disgruntled 16 year old watching the crawl will watch your kid while you pound back a cool Coors 16 oz'er. The ball crawl is about 3 feet deep. Your infant could easily disappear and not be found again until the semi-annual ball-crawl vaccuuming. Also, the note about the shin to the back of the head? Kids like to jump off the walls, pretending to be their favorite luchador, often in the direction of your infant's still unfused skull.

When considering the ball crawl, just.... don't.

**I know they eat beef in Australia, but what else is on the menu? Filet 'o Platypus? Koala Nuggets? Ah, it's funny to make fun of Australians. FACT: They're all reprehensible savages****.

***Why is it that really low-paying jobs often require the removal of vomit? I do recall that one of the reasons I was not liked (and I hadn't thought about this in a while) at the Disney Store was that when I was informed that some kid had tossed her cookies in the store, on carpet, I declared "I am not paid enough to clean up barf. At least not without that pink, granular stuff." Apparently not wanting to clean up barf makes you "not a team player". But, you know what... they weren't paying for benefits or nuthin'. I was supposed to shift from fixing the stuffed anaimal arrangements to scooping up vomit.
Other people's barf is super gross, and I don't think it's unreasonable to expect some sort of special compensation for cleaning it up. If we all worked together and refused to clean up barf for minimum wage, just imagine the utopia we'd all be living in.

****This is not an actual fact. I've met a few Australians, and while I get tired of hearing about how they find my slection of knife completely substandard, our friends from down under couldn't be a more decent people. In fact, if you'd like to point to anyone as an utter savage, it's Canadians, who, FACT: eat babies*****.

*****It is mostly not-true that Candians eat babies. At least not Canadian babies, or there would be no actual Canadians. I suspect some Canadians of cannibalism, but can prove nothing. They probably clean up barf for a shiny dime, too.******

******I feel sort of bad about that. That may have gone too far.

King of Hobos/ PROJECT: H.A.R.M.S.

So last night Steven and I had dinner and he showed me some work he'd been doing lately for the Mellies. Steven is working on an application that will allow Loyal Leaguers to enter a UI and fill in their responses to the queries. This doesn't particularly help you, but it sure as heck helps me.

And, because Steven is King of the Hobos, he has decided to live his life on The Rails. he's trying to learn the technology, and I'm trying to get free help. In this way, my lamprey-like life continues. I'm a bit fascinated with what he's doing, and when he wraps up, we'll have a chat about what this is doing that a JAVA/ Cold Fusion interface wouldn't have done, or what else might have been a competing option. I can feel my work brain kicking in again after too many months of dormancy. Plus, it's a new technology, and while I may never learn to write for it, I can certainly learn about the features.

(I am thinking we need BLOCKS for the users to fill in rather than scrolling lines).

Anyway, Project: H.A.R.M.S. is saving the day.

But what does H.A.R.M.S. stand for?

You decide...

Humanoid
Android
Robotic
Man-Like
Synthoid
?

Fudge

So I was working on this sort of pointless, mid-week filler post for Comic Fodder regarding the value of Power Girl in the DCU, even when artists are complete morons.


Cover to JLA #10, which defies logic and gravity

There's nothing like a Michael Turner cover to suddenly make you embarassed for buying a comic. This is the JL-freaking-A, not Juggs Magazine. I, along with 80,000 readers, was going to buy this comic if the cover was blank and made of butcher paper. But, Turner went and ruined it.

Anyway, the point was that this sort of nonsense detracts from a character, especially one that is already treated like the class joke by a lot of creators who still giggle like a thirteen year old when they think of boobies. There was a dicier portion of the post for which i needed quotes, links and whatnot as I disagreed with a blogger's statements I'd read elsewhere. I just couldn't remember where I'd seen the post.

I looked and looked.

I'm currently using the latest Explorer, which is not unlike Firefox in that it provides me with tabs. Over at Comic Fodder, I try to behave as a bit more of a journalista, citing sources, lots of linking, etc... the tabs help me stay organized as I jump from pane to pane, looking for material.

All i really needed to do was find that last link and I could start wrapping the thing up. I'd looked at more than a dozen likely sites, and hit a site which was clearly NOT my site, and which didn't want to load...

And then IE went all IE on me, and shut down my unsaved post, the page I was looking at, and a few other references I had in pocket. I was utterly shocked, but felt like I'd learned an important MS IE lesson. I don't know what sites I'll hit, so I need to start saving more often and consider going back to just using multiple windows.

Maybe it's for the best. That post won't see the light of day, and I can maybe think about it a little harder and do my proper legwork before writing. Still, that was a particularly large amount of documentation for that particular column.

That was like 1.5 hours gone poof on me.

Darn you IE.

Congrats to Jeff and Keora

I sort of quickly mentioned it the other day, but congrats to Jeff Shoemaker and his new bride, Keora.

They were married Friday at the Travis County Courthouse with family in attendance. I've known Jeff since 1993 where we shared a community bathroom in Jester. Keora I did not meet until this Fall when we returned to Austin.

You see a lot of couples that you don't have a whole lot of faith in, and you see other couples that, together, might drive you a bit nuts. Not so these two. Together they provide a united fighting front that's really going to clean up crime in Star City.

A Bit of Difference

As I recall, Leaguer Randy once opined something along the lines of "Why does The League obsess about Austin? Stop living in the past, dude."



The past week or so has proven to me in no small degree that our return to Waterloo was a well-conceived plan, if you don't take my current jobless situation into account.

1) Last Friday, my former roommate and eternal pal was here for SXSW hi-jinks. I was able to see the guy and dine out with he and other friends. This led to running into old pal, Amy C. No longer same-city e-mail pals, we got to catch up.
2) The parents were able to come for a nice weekend March Birthday celebration last weekend.
3) Monday night, Nathan C. (no relation to Amy C) was in town for SXSW. Got to catch up with one heck of a guy and once-again expectant father.
4) Not much going on Tuesday aside from Crack fun.
5) Wednesday, outdoors in the rain, got to see some fun music and rock out. Also allowed to participate in said rocking.
6) Wagner arrives for the rocking.
7) Wednesday night was "booze night".
8) Thursday mostly uneventful, but Wagner continues to linger.
9) Thursday night prioved difficult to find a place to eat as SXSW is everywhere. Jamie grumpy, but, honestly, I was just happy we had options. Just not something we had in AZ.
10) Friday braved the crowds and hit certain shops in pursuit of Jason's birthday present.
11) Friday night somewhat tame as I miss the FREE Public Enemy Show, then proceed to miss a birthday party as I just couldn't bear the thought of going into town during SXSW.
12) Saturday hit Curra's for Jason's b-day lunch. (Finally re-locate Texicalli... which is next door to Curra's).
13) Saturday night is Jason's B-Day party at his place. I hang green streamers and almost deafen the birthday boy when "popper" is actually very loud and does not just shoot confetti as I believed.
14) Spend some time with Jason's quality friends, including catching a rare glimpse of the elusive Meredith Shaw. Although the evening's highlight may have come with Ellie's gigantic Hulk hand beer holder.
15) Nearing midnight head to Pat's where I see The My for the first time since 2000, meet his wife, and am also able to celebrate wedding of pal Jeff Shoemaker (formerly a Loyal Leaguer) who had a small civil ceremony on Friday.
16) Sunday, some folks from Saturday late party drop by, we all wind up having a late dinner at Trudy's.

Last year at this time we were getting rained out of the Ostrich Fest.

Sure, this week was crazy. It was nutty crazy. And next weekend we have a wedding in Houston (Bug's wedding)). The following weekend the lovely La La is marrying this Mike fellow.

The League likes a busy calendar. We enjoy having stuff to do and peopel to do it with. Somehow this tops the weekend trip to Target being our only journey out of the house from Friday to Monday.

Yes, it's been a good week.

Now, if only I had a job.

CRACK! (plus intern)

Born on a Monday

Saturday will mark Jason's 34th birthday. Let's all give the boy a big round of applause.


The birthday boy goes out in search of cake...

Rock and Roll in the Rain

Your League is a little bit tired.

Yesterday was the show at art shop/ Gallery Bella Blue down on S. 1st, just North of Oltorf. Bella Blue's performace area is an outdoor stage, and with 36 hours of rain preceding the show, I was curious to know if the thing would go off. After all, I did not want to see anyone rock out in a shower of sparks.

Eventually it was decided the rain was merely misting, and with a tent set up to protect the electronic components and the drum kit, Crack took the stage and faced down an unprepared audience. I was lucky enough to sit in for a song with Crack ("Mr. Pinchy's Lament"), but otherwise just got to enjoy the fine, fine work of Crack from the audience. I think it's safe to say that Crack rocked the audience's socks off.

Mono Ensemble followed with a really good, tight set. I think they played seven songs or so, including two covers. It was, truth to be told, the best I can recall the Mono E sounding in the many times I've heard them. I don't know if the possibility of imminent electrocution at playing guitars and standing in puddles added extra urgency to their playing, or if the rock gods merely loaned them extra powers of rock... but it was a good set.

And, of course, the one band not featuring Jason, Kosmodrome, impressed me with their post-Autechre electronic aural assault. Good stuff. Can't go wrong with Kosmodrome.

For some photos of the show, here you go.

Afterward, I picked up my weekly comics, then headed home for a much needed shower. As much as I enjoy standing in the rain for hours on end, I've looked better.

Jamie had a Sleep Study last night, which meant that she had to go to the hospital and have all manner of diodes and electrodes glued to her skin while she caught some shut-eye. Normally, this would mean I was left to my own devices, but Jamie tag-teamed with long-time pal H. Wagner. Wagner is on Spring Break from her Masters program in Lubbock and has come to crash for a few days in Austin.

Long story short, Wagner and I hung out til way too late over the firepit and some chit-chatting (and some drinks. Hey, she's on Spring Break).

So, after such a long day, I finally got to bed. Very, very late.

Jamie's car has a flat tire, so I have to fix that today. We're all sort of tired and cranky as, apparenly, Jamie's sleep study more or less kept her from getting a good night's sleep. And I can't say I slept terribly well, either.

Watchmen Movie

The guy who directed 300 currently has the rights to "Watchmen". With a $70 million opening weekend, it's my guess that he's going to make whatever movie he wants next.

Just prior to 300 opening, it was leaked that Snyder had sneaked a frame of his Watchmen test footage into the 300 trailer.

Hurm.

I'm still of a mind that there's too much to Watchmen for a two hour movie. Snyder obviously has no problem sicking to the source material. Make it a mini-series.

Marvel Awesomeness

I hate to steal from Occasional Superheroine two days in a row, but you can't fight awesomeness...



It's like they didn't even try. And I heart them for it.

The torch is passed...

Colbert receives Cap's shield

workday time killer

Here's a page to look at and kill some time today.

Totally rad Halloween costumes.

And

All you ever wanted to know about Kobra Kai Dojo and Sweeping the Leg (and more).

Oh, Retrocrush... I heart you.



And here is Randy and a bunch of ladies.

MONO E AND CRACK: ONE NIGHT ONLY

From my brother:

Just a reminder that two of Austin's most legendary garage bands will be hitting the stage at Bella Blue art boutique on Wednesday afternoon (Bella Blue is an art shop, but they have an entertainment area behind the shop that has a stage and plenty of room for our rock and roll audience). Crack will kick off the festivities at 3:00 with our unique take on savante garde melody making (or noise rock, depending on your point of view). The Mono Ensemble will follow at 4:00 with their own brand of folk-prog-western-jazz-funk-rock, and Kosmodrome will round out the day at 5:00 with experimental electronic fanfare smuggled deep out of the heart of mother Russia. The whole thing is part of the garage band showcase portion of SXS1st (the South 1st Street part of SXSW).

Here's a link to the Bella Blue flyer. Bella Blue is at 2213 South First Street, on the east side of the street, about a block north of Oltorf (next to End of An Ear Records, who I believe may be co-sponsoring the event).

So take part of the day off and come see some local, live music the way SXSW was originally intended!!!!!

Hope to see you all there!!!!!!

hugs,

jason steans



And, yes... I sit in on bass for one of the Crack tunes.

Comic Fodder Catch Up

Hey, Leaguers...

Finally got out Part 2 of Masters in DC Universe

and reviews of last week's DC Comics

300 - the League sees a movie

Readers of LoM may have noticed I was cautiously optimistic about the recently released film "300". The movie promised to blend visual effects, historical inaccuracies, Frank Miller and a legendary tale together into a sort of big 'ol blockbuster. Whether the movie would make sense to mainstream America remained to be seen.

I have to say that it's gratifying in my old age to see the works of people I've genuinely respected for decades receiving star billing on multi-million dollar movies. Leaguers like Jason and JimD know the pain of too many hokey comic-to-movie adaptations that we all grew up with. But as our own generation takes the reigns in Hollywood, the generation which grew up on Dark Knight Returns and too many X-Men comics, filmmakers no longer seem embarrased by their own product, and are willing to take chances to bring some of the visual components of the comic panel to the screen.

And that is why 300 is a visually arresting, technically remarkable movie. However, that slavish devotion may also be why 300 isn't a very good movie.

300 is a slim volume and reads in a relatively quick time frame (your mileage may vary). I'd intentionally avoided re-reading the book since I'd heard the movie was in production, but I did recall that the story was slight and seemed more an opportunity for Miller to stretch his wings as artist. His dialogue is spare and his exposition non-existent as he cuts to the chase and got Persians and Spartans stabbing one another as quickly as possible.


THIS MOVIE HAS LOTS OF SHOUTING!!!!

As many might now know, Miller based the comic upon the real-life battle for Thermopylae, where, legend has it, 300 Spartans and some allies faced down thousands of troops from the Persian army. I'm a history major, but I spent too little time on Greek history to relate much other than what I've read online and seen in TV documentaries. What I can tell you is that history is a mix of myth, legend, fact and fiction. But if you want to believe the histories, Leonidas did, in fact, lead the sort of charge which is shown in the film, resulting in the eventual victory of the allied Greek armies (although the Spartans would fall within a generation or two).

And, as BS brutal as the movie depicts the life of the young king, there's signifcant historical evidence suggesting that the Spartans did send their children into the wild to learn to become fighters before apprenticing as soldiers, that Spartans were much of what was represented in film and more.

In some ways, with our comfy couches, TV's and relative security, the culture of the world 2500 years ago is completely alien. Most city-states were in a perpetual cycle of war with far off lands and with one another. The value of soldiers wasn't marked with magnetic ribbons on the back of an SUV, but in hoping that they didn't lose and that you and your family weren't taken as slaves. So when I see reviews from the NYTimes having a good chuckle at this seemingly jingoistic talk of freedom from tyranny and mysticism, I can appreciate the cynicism in a modern context, but can also appreciate what I believe the filmmakers were attempting to achieve.

I'll leave it to other arm chair quarterbacks to decide if director Zach Snyder was trying to create commentary upon the world's current political status, or if it's not telling that Miller's take on the material is a decade old and remains largely unaltered. There's a lesson in there somewhere if folks want to draw allusions to a 2500 year old story.

Unfortunately, as grand in scope and detail as Snyder would like the movie to be, the film plays more like a series of bombastic set-pieces strung together rather than as a coherent narrative. Where Miller's work moves from panel to panel, Snyder has the challenge of compressing time, of working with scenes rather than tableaus. And, for reasons that become eventually apparent in the end, he inserts the seemingly most unnecessary voice over since Harrison Ford's voice over in the original cut of Blade Runner. The much commented upon violence is brutal, if often lyrical in its blood-cult presentation. No doubt the sort of thing that will have fourteen year old boys secretly practicing spear maneuvers when they believe nobody is watching. That said, the movie does show some respect for the realities of hand to hand fighting with thousands of soldiers crashing into one another and the value of a good strategy.

But that's pretty much all viewers are going to find as far as anything fantastic.

I can't help but think that had someone expanded the scope of Miller's story, had someone else directed the actors in the scenes which do not require a lot of stabbing, the end product would have been more than a sure-fire addition to the average 18-24 tear old's DVD collection. We might have got something great.

as far as the visuals... A friend of mine said he thought the compositing looked amateurish. I think he was more or less looking for something to complain about (he hadn't seen the movie). If the movie has anything going for it, it's visuals.

And, on that note... Action directors who've gone to the "up close" and lots of cuts to disguise the action (Batman Begins comes to mind)could certainly take a page or two from 300's handbook.

When the movie ended at the Westgate, we had loud applause from our mostly 18-24 year old audience. In addition, some dude was shouting "Yeeeaaahh! Yeaaahhhh!" And, a little high school girl immediately got on her phone to tell her friend "I just saw 300. It's really violent and stuff, but it's @#$%ing awesome!"

So someone's liking this movie.

Just not me as much as I'd hoped.

Further Signs of Clinical Depression

My workspace at home.

Too Many Leaguers to Mention, Plus Esther's Follies

The next week or so is going to be interesting.

Friday night my former roommate, KB, returned to town for a brief SXSW visit. It's funny how, even when you haven't seen someone in a long, long time, you pick up right where you left off. I don't believe I've seen KB since either shortly before Jamie and I hitched up, or shortly thereafter. I just recall it was that while I was living off 45th street.

At any rate, we sat down to dinner and fell right back to where we were with the same crowd from 1993-1999ish, a spouse here, a significant other there... and it was the Roaring 90's all over again.

We wrapped up the evening at Pat's where I was finally initiated into the world of Wii. Leaguers who know how I kill time know that gaming systems are not my thing. To The League, there's just not that much enjoyable about pressing buttons in a first person shooter that's just the 567th iteration on Doom. Especially when I think it's easier to use the keyboard than the controllers provided by most systems. But the Wii...

I will own a Wii. Oh, yes. I will.

The control is 100% intuitive, and the games don't feel nearly as anti-social. First-person shooters require you to either sit alone and solve the game or enter an arena where you shoot your pals (with a wide variety of highly unintuitive controls). With the Wii, we bowled, played some baseball, competed in a hammer-throw, raced some monkeys, etc... That's just good stuff.

Saturday morning my folks arrived for the joint KareBear/Jason birthday extravaganza. Did some dining out (at Freddie's), went and looked at some potential places my folks are considering, and wound up at Esther's Follies for the 10:00 show.

For folks who've not been: Esther's Follies is an Austin tradition. It's roughly "sketch comedy", vaudeville, magic, music and drinking. The show is roughly two hours with dozens of skits, some of which are more a part of the show out of tradition than anything else. I may have seen the Patsy Cline sketch 5 or 6 times, but it still kills. I'm also a huge fan of magician Ray Anderson who performs amazing illusions, especially in such an intimate environment.

Most sketches work, some don't. They change material every few months, so if you go two or three times a year, you get a different show. Sure, some of the comedy is Austin-centric, but folks seem to enjoy the show, even from out of town.

The whole thing is performed on a stage with it's back to 6th Street, and with windows open to 6th street, so the mostly inebriated happenings of 6th street are often incorporated directly into the show. It's a unique sort of thing to see as the folks on the street can see in and occasionally attempt to participate.

6th Street is always colorful, and it's always a bit dodgy taking the Karebear and Admiral down to Austin's entertainment district as, really, you never know what to expect. We got a bit of Leslie, who hasn't aged a day, and a very, very drunk young woman getting arrested and shouting "AUSTIN, TEXAS!" over and over. Not sure what that was about.

Time change this morning. The time change always stinks, and it's our first leap forward since 2002. Arizona doesn't observe daylight savings, so we never dealt with the time change. My clock is all kinds of off, and I predict an early evening for myself.

Saw "300" today after the folks left. More on that later.

Now I'm winding down/ catching up.

Tomorrow evening Nathan C. rolls into town. I think I'm due at Austin Books during the day with KB. Wednesday Wagner is making an appearance, and next weekend is the birthday of Steanso. And next weekend, The My rolls into town.

God help us all.

Hope all Loyal Leaguers are having a good one.

Captain America is Dead

I picked up Captain America #25 today. It seems that they've decided to bump off Cap.

Now, for guys like me who've been reading comics for a while, it's tough to buy that anyone who ever dies in a comic is, in fact, dead. Comics are passed from creative team to creative team, and the idea is that creators should act as the best custodian possible for a comic series, but never leave the series in tatters.

Writers may get to play god within a certain framework, but how excited do you think Publisher Dan Buckley would be to head to the meeting of the Board of Directors and explain why Captain America, the fighting symbol of the United States, can't help them sell T-shirts, ice cream or be around for a potential multi-million dollar movie? I'm betting our friend, Steve Rogers, isn't actually going to be gone for too long.

Oh, sure, I bought the issue. My greedy little mits pulled the final copy right off the shelf (only two hours after the store opened, at that). You don't get buried this far into comic geekiness wiithout listening to that squeaky little voice in your head that says, "Ah, it's just one more comic! Pick it up! Now go torch the library."

You sort of have to pick and choose from the options League-Mite gives you. Some of them are burny.

Anyhow, it's interesting to see that the press bought into the "Dead Icon" deal again. I guess folks don't really remember that Superman "died" and came back. Or that even our friend Robin "died" and came back (although that took well over a decade).

I don't mean to be so cynical, but I can't really buy into this one. What I CAN buy is that Brubaker is a darn good writer, and that this series will probably be worth picking up. Marvel's on a roll from a universal standpoint. I can't vouch if each and every title is a good one, but there's some interesting stuff going on in the House of Ideas.

Heck, they got me and League-Mite buying Marvel comics again.

Zodiac - my $0.02

Saturday I saw Zodiac with Matt Mangum. The theater, I think it's worth mentioning, was filled with dudes. A lot of those dudes were in their early to mid-20's.

The previews may be a bit telling as to the appetite of the "target" audience for a movie like Zodiac.

trailer #1) Bruce Willis in a hair piece and slimmed down is a magazine publisher who is meeting girls online and killing them.

trailer #2) Anthony Hopkins kills his wife, or does he? Is he merely pulling more flies into his daibolical spider's web?

trailer #3) Teen-age "Rear Window". A seemingly normal guy living next door to a kid with a police-installed ankle bracelet sees his neighbor killing people. he sends the minority-guy best-friend to his doom.

Zodiac is, ostensibly, a serial killer movie. Zodiac was one of those names that used to be brought up in news reports alongside names like Son of Sam, the Green River Killer, John Wayne Gacey, Ted Bundy, Henry Lee Lucas, and more recent acquisitions to the pool of whackos. Operating during the 1970's, Zodiac claimed to have killed dozens. But as Zodiac is real, and was never caught, short of writing speculative fiction, there shouldn't be much of a narrative angle to the story. Heck, they finally even made an arrest in the Green River killings a few years ago, so that story has some closure.

Instead of telling yet another post "Silence of the Lambs" serial killer story, Zodiac works more like a bit of a detective story, following a few key players in the Zodiac investigation from 1969 through the 00's as various real-life people become pulled into the investigation. Some viewers may find the film's refusal to cast any specific person as the point of view for teh audience a bit troubling, but in a lot of ways, that would take away from what director David Fincher seemed to be attempting in representing the facts of the case as a drama.

The movie is far more interested in the manner in which the investigations occured than dwelling over the grim details of the murders. Once Fincher provides the audience with a fairly brutal look at the murders (not for shock value as much as to contextualize the action to follow), the story begins to unfold in a series of frustrating stutter steps. Real-life jurisdictional disputes, human foibles, arrogance and simple mistakes may have left multiple law-enforcement teams unable to piece together the identity of the murderer.

With three sensationalistic serial killer movies previewed before this movie, there's a certain maturity I could appreciate regarding Fincher's decision not to romanticize, glorify or mystify the subject matter. It doesn't take a huge leap to see that Zodiac isn't regarded as any kind of genius by the filmmakers, and no attempt is made to make much out of him other than as a brutal megalomaniac.

There are a few narrative tricks I enjoyed that seemed to be the Fincher's "up yours" to the Zodiac, and once you see what he's doing, you sort of want to send Fincher a big valentine.

There's a lot to this 2.5 hour movie, but, for me, it never dragged, and I thought that the script and actors did an excellent job of presenting some seemingly mundane but convoluted case work as succinctly as possible.

Performances are very good. Robert Downey Jr. plays himself (can't wait to see his Tony Stark), Jake Gyllenhaal has a lot to carry, and does it well. Mark Ruffalo really surprised me. And even Dermot Mulroney may have found his niche. Apparently some guys behind us had an issue with Chloe Sevigney not being "hot" enough for them, but that died down quickly. And feature film fixture Brian Cox was excellent in his scenes (man, I love Brian Cox).

You can't really say "Hey, Zodiac is a fun movie!". It's not. But it is an interesting movie, and, if like the film's Robert Graysmith, you enjoy puzzles... or if you dont mind a little detective work in your movies about detectives, it's not a bad way to spend 2.5 hours.

The movie certainly makes a case for identifying a certain player by film's end, drawn from the work of amateur sleuth Robert Graysmith. As with any real-life mystery presented as a film, and with only the facts of the film to work with, the finger pointing seems as reasonable with their choice of suspect as anyone. If true, it's fascinating to consider. Fincher is smart enough to leave it somewhat open ended, but with Graysmith working on the film, the film manages to bring some closure, if not a conviction.

I did read on someone's blog that they felt that with today's police tactics that such a case could never occur again. I assume he was referring to cross-referencing of data, etc... I'm not so sure. Computer systems are only as good as the people using them. Cops are only as good as the evidence they find and can prove in court. Juridictional issues are always jurisdictional issues, and if we learned anything from 9/11, it's that data that should and could be shared often doesn't make it into the hands of the right people.

As Matt and I were sort of trapped on the seats in the aisle when the credits rolled, I heard the same conversation three times from those young men who filled the threater.

"I thought it was going to be... you know..."
"Dude, it's a true story."
"I know, but..."
"They can't just make stuff up."
"Yeah, I guess not."

So, yes, if you're expecting Saw IV, you might be disappointed.

Tuesday Short Bits

-Walter Reed Army Hospital/ Bob Woodruff and Veteran's Affairs Hospital

Wow. This is just one of those things that I recall some folks being concerned about in the run up to the Iraq War. It's easy to send in the tanks and helicopters. It's in the following years that we, as a nation, have to answer the tough questions. Will we honor our soldiers when they come home, but don't come home in a box? When they took a piece of metal to the head for us, will we make sure we take care of them?

I watched the Woodruff special last week, and the answer appears to be: we'll help out a bit, but don't expect too much. Oh, and we'll report that injuries are coming in at a rate of 1/10th of the actual numbers of soldiers receiving treatment.


-Anna Nicole Smith's Mom

I totally think I saw her at the Austin airport when I went to pick up Jamie Sunday night. Jamie assures me it wasn't her, but I think it was.


-Ann Coulter

At what point did folks decide it was okay again to use bigotry as part of the political process? And just outright hatred?

How can you even do much but roll your eyes anymore when Coulter speaks? One horribly distasteful comment can sink a career, but it's no secret that a steady line of reprehensible comments builds a career.

I spent enough time in suburbia to know that this is the sort of discourse that occurs over a cold beer or three, and that, however idiotic and seemingly juvenile Coluter's comments, she's speaking for some segment of the population. Do we give too much credit to the Conservative Political Action Conference? At least to some attendees.


-Kyle MacLachlan to voice Superman

Here's some good news (in my book). Special Agent Cooper is scheduled to play the voice of the Man of Steel in the upcoming "New Frontier" straight to DVD feature-length cartoon.

I think MacLachlan should have landed the George Reeves role in Hollywoodland, but I guess the producers didn't think he'd sell enough tickets. He was, after all, up for the role and is the appropriate age.

Keep your eyes peeled for "New Frontier" when it's released. The comic series was excellent stuff, and Darwyn Cooke's style will most likely be maintained for the feature (think 1950's and 60's cartooning). Hopefully the series was self-contained enough that nobody will feel they need to tweak the story too much. I loved the Right Stuff meets Mort Weisinger sensibility of the whole thing.

Just wait until you see Cooke's Lois and Wonder Woman.


-Superman at accident, but not particularly helpful

And before anyone assumes I do not have a TV or the interwebs...



-Extreme Make-Over Home Edition airplane family

Upon occasion on Sunday nights Jamie I watch this horrible, horrible program while we DVR stuff on other networks. The formula is simple: Find people who have simply too much responsibility and a ton of misfortune fall upon them, and give them a McMansion and flat screen TV. Usually the family has someone who is chronically ill and lives in a hovel, or they've taken in 6 foster kids and a tornado levelled their trailer.

The show has been on a while, but last night was the first time I thought (a) these people are badly off not just because fate dealt them an unlucky hand, but because they made a stupid decision by cancelling their home owner's insurance while refinancing, and then living across the street from an airport. Yes, a plane ran into their house. And (b) these people fully knew what was in store for them when they got on the program. They fully expected the amenities of the McMansion and kept saying things like "Oh, this is totally what I wanted." Not, "Wow, I am used to sharing a room with six people and ten rats." IE: these people weren't exactly slumming it prior to the show, or at least prior to getting hit with an airplane.

A few weeks ago, the show was about a family in Austin with 5 autistic kids and a dad who worked two blue-collar jobs to try to cover the bills, but their house was days from being foreclosed upon. But with five autistic kids, the bills were piling up, the house was in serious disrepair and mom was at her wit's end.

These people cancelled their insurance as part of a plan to refinance their existing house. Had the plane NOT hit the house, they'd still be a comfortably middle class family with very few problems. Sure, their son was a marine who'd been in Iraq, but he wasn't injured. And he was 21. As mentioned above, we have a lot of our troops who are not so fortunate. And, he's 21... How long was he expected to live at home?

I dunno. The funny thing is that the cast usually spends the whole episode talking about how amazing the families are who they're helping out. In this instance, they were sort of quiet on the subject. I think they knew, and we knew, that there were probably a lot of families in Florida in much worse shape than these folks.

When Good Sentiments Go Wrong

This dude had this hair as late as September 12th, 2001.



I'm probably mistaken, but is that the same beach from the end of "Planet of the Apes"?

Found at this blog.

Along with this Captain America/ Team America video.

editor's note: Mom, Dad... do not watch. This has naughty, naughty words.



Scenes are from the little-seen 1990 Captain America feature film starring the son of JD Salinger. Yes, I have seen it. And it rulz.

week end

Well, with Jamie gone for the weekend, I still managed to entertain myself fairly well.

Friday night I enjoyed an extended dinner engagement with Jason, Mandy, Greg Johnson, Susan and a girl who I believe was named "Shelly". We wound up at Homeslice Pizza on S. Congress, which is pretty much just a dimly lit, overcrowded pizza joint, but it's a nice destination for a night out when you don't have much planned. But, it's also apparently a bit of a hipster locale as evidenced by the lengthy wait we had for a table.

Saturday, Peabo's 10:55 AM call woke from slumber. I have no internal clock anymore. Each morning I rise with either dogs or wife harassing me (or an alarm), and long ago I lost any natural ability to just wake up from sleep. Lately Jamie's been doing little "fly-by" wake-up's. She comes by the bed for 30 seconds and says "are you going to get up?" when I am clearly dead asleep and in deep REM. It's enough to sort of wake me up, but then she wanders off in disgust, and I fall asleep once more, only to have the process repeated every 30 to 45 minutes until I finally roll out of bed. I'm not sure what strategy she believes she's employing, but it's not working.

So, Saturday morning, I showered, dressed and headed for Peabo's, where I caught the second half of the Texas/Kansas game (Texas lost). Then, Peabo and I sort of hung out while Adriana took a much needed nap. Adriana and Peabo have about 7 weeks before little Jefferson is born, and it's safe to say they're both excited, but not in a "WE'RE HAVING A BAYYY-BEEEEE!!!!!" creepy kind of way that we non-breeders fail to get properly jazzed about.

I've known Peabo since 4th grade (when we kicked it old skool on the corner of Taterwood and Pencewood). Peabo will be a good dad, although it may take decades for his kids to appreciate that their father's continuous mocking laughter was born out of love. I expect Adriana shall be the voice of reason at Casa de Peabo. I suspect there shall be a lot of "survival of the fittest" going on with Peabo and his brood. You want to be one of Peabo's kids, you gotta be tough.

Saturday night I went with Mangum to see "Zodiac", which is long enough, but add on 30 minutes of really horrible trailers (all of the trailers were about crazed, guy next door, secret genius murderers. There were three in a row) and we walked out of the movie at 12:30 AM.

I spent today cleaning. We haven't done any serious cleaning since a solid, post-Christmas attempt. We've done some vaccuuming, etc... but not a "today we clean the house" sort of cleaning, and it shows. With Parental Units in town next weekend, and then (hopefully) Nathan and Wagner coming for Spring Break/ SXSW, plus a surprise announcement of a visit from former roommate and now crusading attorney, K. B., the house needs to be in order. There's also a chance for a visit by The My.

So, today I cleaned toilets and such. Which was good, but i missed the lovely weather. Furtunately, I hear it's going to be 70+ and sunny all week, so...

Also, I spoke with the birthday girl at length this afternoon.

More on "Zodiac" later.

Hope everyone had a good weekend.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO KAREBEAR

Happy Birthday to the M-O-M!!!

We love you, Mom! See you next weekend!

Jeter, Bush and Mantle

An employee at Topp's after my own heart inserted images of George W. and Mickey Mantle into a new Derek Jeter baseball card.

Here.

Open Weekend and Romantic Movies

So, through an odd turn of events, Jamie's mom is under the weather (everyone give a Huzzah! for Judy) and Jamie's Dad is headed for Brazil. It's complicated, but it involves large, migratory birds and a German/Canadian physicist. More than that, I cannot say.

So Jamie is trading positions with Judy and is heading to Lawton for a few days to go run the show, wrangle cats and make sure Judy doesn't try any stunt driving. Which means The League is left to his own devices from Friday mid-day to Sunday evening.

Luckily, I have a lot of booze left over from the Christmas Party, so Mel and I are going to raise a pirate flag, stand on the upstairs balcony and wave sabers menacingly at the neighbors until the police show up. Yarrrgghh...

I'm also totally poor. So this weekend may mostly entail a lot of catching up with comics, cleaning, and trying to lay low.

A job would be totally sweet right about now.

We're headed for Erica F.'s wedding in a few weeks, and Jamie bought a shiny dress for the event. I have learned it is outside in Houston in March, so I hope Bug won't mind when I show up in shorts and my OU812 tour shirt. The following weekend we've got another outdoor wedding for Denby. I am sure Denby will want to change her name, but that ain't gonna happen. She'll always be Denby to me.

She's marrying a purveyor of fine meats. Go figure.

So a special shout out to the Loyal Leaguers who addressed my probing questions regarding romantic movies.

go here.

Once again, RHPT refuses to elaborate, leading me to believe that he was the kid in class who plagued the teacher with the "do we have to know this for the test?" questions. Hang your head in shame, RHPT.

As always, I've written questions without having any answers in mind of my own. Here goes:

1) What movie do you think best exemplifies the ultimate expression of romantic love?

I want to say that flying around the world so fast that you travel back in time for love is pretty good. But Maxwell points out another candidate in "Somewhere in Time" where Chris Reeve once again travels through time, but this time to meet the super-foxy Dr. Quinn, and that's good, too.

This is a particularly tough one as I don't watch too many romantic movies.

There's something about sacrifice for love that's sort of nihilistic and romantic. For example, Casablanca as love means letting go. But I think the never-realized love of Li Mu Bai and Yu Shu Lien in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is particularly poignant.

Plus, you know, Michelle Yeoh. Yowzah.

I might point out that this category was romantic love, not love between a boy and his dog. But if that's how you want to define romantic love, that's cool. I only ask that you stay far, far away from my dogs.

2) What movie do you think demonstrates the most fun look at Mad Love?

True Romance. Those are too crazy kids in some crazy, mixed-up love.

And, of course, The Quiet Man.

3) What movie do you think most accurately depicts or reflects how you feel about romantic love in your own reality?

I sort of think Jamie and I have a real nice Gomez and Morticia Addams thing going on.

But there's also something very visceral about "Punch Drunk Love" that, though the events don't reflect anything familiar, there's something I respond to about a semi-obsessive, self-conscious guy with borderline social skills realizing he has a good thing and realizing he's going to have to fight for it.

Also, I love pudding.

Hollywoodland

This review is spoiler-laden:

Going into the movie, I probably knew more about the topic than I should have. I do not consider myself to be any sort of expert in matters George Reeves, but my reading on Superman has lent itself to some reading on the life and death of George Reeves.

I believe that there is very good reason to think that George Reeves did not kill himself. But I don't know. But it certainly colored how I saw the movie.

The film, itself, is a sort of mix between a standard detective picture and Citizen Kane flashback sequences (also used in Immortal Beloved). The detective in question is Louis Simo, a fictionalized character/ convenient amalgamation of many real people who lives the standard movie detective life of the shabby apartment/ office, the messy divorce and kid left behind, and a girlfriend who will dump him before the end of the picture.

Ben Affleck, who is never as old as the character he is portraying, especially for the second half of the film, still manages to portray a reasonable fascimile of Reeves without giving in to parody or imitation. We've got lots of Reeves to look at, and with six seasons of The Adventures of Superman to pull from, Affleck manages to use that both to his advantage and manages to overcome the problem of mis-playing someone with whom some viewers might be fairly familiar.

For me, the story failed on a few fronts.

I take some umbrage at insertion of a fictional detective with a fictional dysfunctional family life as the framing device for the film. The film is really the story of Louis Simo chasing down the truth, and coming to the revelation that mediocrity in Hollywood is okay. A suspect moral, I think, but the lesson we're to understand Reeves' death has taught us is that hoping to become something better than what you are is a way to drive yourself mad. At least in Hollywood. At the end we're supposed to get really excited to see Simo in a suit (I guess he's gotten a straight job) and is coming over to check on his kid in the two bedroom LA-style tract house. With a promise of him giving up on the chance for the abstract greatness of private detective work, I guess. Hooray?

Further, the movie really spares no expense in setting up the husband of Reeves' spurned lover as a potential murder suspect, then backs down completely. This build-up includes details that seemingly make no sense if Mannix is NOT the murderer, such as an MGM rep's appearance at Reeves' funeral and the one scene between Hoskins as Mannix and Simo. Add in some mysterious tarot cards at the crime scene, and some fudgy actual details of the murder included in the film, and the final resolution seems like a lot of back-peddling.

Which raises the question: Did the producers wimp out? As folks looking for jobs in LA once Hollywoodland was in the can, did a moment of clarity tell these guys that fingering a studio exec using studio resources to bump a prominent actor might not be a good idea, career-wise?

I'm also fairly certain that as a non-actor, the melancholy and despair presented by Affleck as Reeves at his lot in life as the Man of Steel is something that's fairly foreign to me as a person (though, certainly not Affleck). Whether a personal failure or one of the movie, I felt that there was too much telling and not enough showing of Reeves' frustration at not being able to land other roles, and it was difficult to garner much sympathy for Reeves as a working actor and kept man, aside from the "Here to Eternity" sequence (which, I've read Reeves and Mannix did not actually attend). That said, as Superman was ending, Reeves had directed a few episodes of AoS, and as the movie indicates, was making a move to television directing. His career wasn't exactly over, though it might have been over in front of the lens. It's a detail, but a detail glossed over in the movie. And as the movie is trying to point to the certainty of Reeves' suicide, the ommission becomes somewhat problematic.

Reeves' death is a huge questionmark, and that lends itself to Rashoman type-speculating. Unfortunately, none of the answers provided by the film-makers are particularly satisfying. And that means that the movie isn't particularly satisfying, either.

Brody isn't bad, but there's a bit of New York to his LA born and raised detective. Diane Lane is excellent as Toni Mannix, and makes a very believable romantic interest for Reeves.

Some additional minutia:

It also can't help that I have read multiple conflicting stories regarding whether or not Adventures of Superman was actually cancelled. After all, as a syndicated show, the principles never knew whether the show was actually cancelled or not until someone called them to show up for work. Secondly, in the wake of the death of Reeves, the studio tried to put two other shows on the air (Superpup and Superboy), indicating that they planned for more Superman product. In fact, they used the exact same set for Superpup as AoS, so they hadn't torn down the sets as if the show was over. Further, I'd read that Noel Neill was under the impression that additional seasons were in the future and that Reeves' death was what ended the program.

For some eye-brow raising comments, you can also turn to a recent Noel Neill interview at the Supermanhomepage. It's known Noel was not necessarily socially involved with Reeves off the set, but it's definitely worth reading.

***UPDATE***
Phyllis Coates, who played Lois Lane for the first season of Adventures of Superman (Neill had predated her in the Kirk Alyn serials), also takes issue with the portrayal of Reeves and events. Read here.

***UPDATE UPDATE***
Noel Neill was interviewed on KryptonFan this week. There is some mention of Hollywoodland. 02-28-2007

Movies: Before We Leave The Month of Love...

It's Interactivity Time, Leaguers!

I was planning to do a Valentine's Day post about Romantic Movies, or movies that are, essentially, about romantic love. But I thought I'd leave this one to you

This would probably be a good "Mellies" question, but let's just think of this is a warm up.

3 questions:

1) What movie do you think best exemplifies the ultimate expression of romantic love?
2) What movie do you think demonstrates the most fun look at Mad Love?
3) What movie do you think most accurately depicts or reflects how you feel about romantic love in your own reality?

Now add a "Why" to each of those categories.

The League's Past Few Days

The weekend has come and gone.

We now have both wireless and wired internets delivering packets to our modems.

Natalie was supposed to be in town, but I don't think she was here as she never got in touch.

Friday night was dinner and then not much. Saturday Jamie and I played with Andy and Jason, me on bass, Jamie on piano. I am a bit unsure as to this whole band business. I hear I may be slated to play one tune with the rock band "Crack" at SXS1st during SXSW (although our configuration will be called "Sigmund and the Steans Monsters). I have also been told that I am to keep my ideas to myself. It's a tough way to start in with a band. Apparently I crossed some very upsetting lines when I was trying to come up with lyrics. It seems I don't carry the same filter when facing a crowd that the others shoulder, and there were fears of police action.

All I'm sayin' is that nobody else was coming up with any ideas.

Saturday night Jamie and I hit Kerbey Lane, and I drank too much coffee. I was still flying at 2:30AM.

Sunday Jamie woke me from my slumber with the following message:

"If you want to watch the Intel Building implode, I taped it. Also, there's bagels and coffee downstairs."

It's the little moments like that which make me realize I am the luckiest guy alive.

Around Noon'ish, we assisted Steven G. Harms and Lauren in their move. Steven is the best movee ever. "I have six boxes, two chairs and an armoire," he instructed. "The rest is already moved." Apparently Lauren, who is in no way what one envisions as a burly mover-person, had already moved most of their joint property while Steven was out of town.

So it was pretty quick work. And they still bought us lunch. Kudos to Steven and Lauren for their good work and excellent choice of a new pad. It's quite the set-up.

Today I looked for jobs and realized how dangerous I am with a computer in an office and no other distractions. I have found that I will disappear into this room, intending to check e-mail and emerge three hours later. I completel missed going to the bank today as I went to check e-mail at 4:00 and when I looked at the clock next, it was 6:00. Kind of scary.

Still, I'm happy to be at a desk of sorts instead of sitting on the couch with the laptop burning a rectangular spot on my stomach (I sit sort of inverted, with my legs propped up).

Comic reviews are up at Comic Fodder.

NFL Draft Guys Dot Com

Congrats to Sigmund Bloom on his launch of NFL Draft Guys.

From the Press Release:

Football junkies have a new home.

NfL Draftguys showcases:

* Accessible, in-depth, year-round college
scouting.
* Decisive fantasy projections for your rookie
drafts.
* Insightful commentary that goes deeper than the
stats.

Cecil Lammey.
Sigmund Bloom.

The stars of The Audible and Footballguys.com know the
game.

The offseason is the new season of NFL football, and
everything that's anything related to the draft can be
found right here. Our scouts attend every major event
from the Shrine Game through the draft, and they don't
mince words when it comes to their projections. You
want informed opinions? You got 'em. In spades.

But our coverage doesn't just start when the players
hang up their helmets -- NFL Draftguys updates player
profiles and rankings constantly throughout the
college season.

So bookmark it.

Academy Awards

When many of you were in college and were expanding your musical horizons, The League sort of made a half-hearted effort to do the same. Our passing interest in David Bowie increased seven-fold, We went through a period where we bought every Talking Heads, David Byrne and related album (and slept happily beneath a subway poster of the least-exciting looking band in rock). And, when JAL took me to the Paramount to see "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" around March of 1995, I fell for the film scores of Ennio Morricone.

I was familiar with soundtrack to "The Mission", and a few other Morricone works, but first "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" and then "Once Upon a Time in The West" and continuing with "Once Upon a Time in America"... Morricone stood out to me (as a wide-eyed film student) as the perfect blending of film and music, rivalling John Williams for pure, iconic themes that told the story as much or more than, oftentimes, the dialogue itself.

The score to "Once Upon a Time in America", along with the one-sheet movie poster, are probably actually better than the final product of the film. The score manages to accomplish what many scores fail to do (but what I thought Ottman managed to accomplish quite well with "Superman Returns"), and that is speak the inner monologues for the characters.

As long-time Leaguers will know, I gave up on the Oscars several years ago when I realized most of the pictures nominated either never made it to my neighborhood, or could not possibly live up to the hype once it began. In addition, why on earth would I watch a bunch of over-paid actors run through a list of agents and producers to get their name on the air and thereby force the actor in question to beg for more work even as they're supposedly receiving their profession's highest accolade?

Hollywood is a sick, sick town.

So it was this evening that Jamie lured me down from the Fortress of Nerditude to watch the "honorary" or "lifetime achievement" award to Ennio Morricone, as he must not have ever won an award before and it was making the Academy look kind of dumb. Especially if Morricone died with no awards and having re-written the way in which film scores could work.

It was awkward enough that Eastwood didn't wear his glasses and in front of an audience of 1 billion people couldn't read the teleprompter, but...

well, (a) nobody in the audience really applauded for any of Morricone's scores as they played, except for "Good, Bad and the Ugly". And (b) as if to add insult to injury, someone tapped Celine Dion to lay words over the score to "Deborah's Theme" from "Once Upon a Time in America". Apparently not Dion, the lyricist, the Academy, any directors or producers had actually seen "Once Upon a Time in America" and knew that "Deborah's Theme" was not a song about finding one another in the moonlight. I don't want to get too much into what I THINK it's about, but it is not about filling up four extra minutes in your show at the Bellagio.

Also, Celine forgot the words at the mid-point of the song and just let out a "whooooo!" to cover it up. Well played, Celine. Well played.

This was followed by the appearance that the Academy was unaware that Morricone does not speak English. They invited him to give a speech, and a few awkward moments went by as Eastwood stood there and was supposed to translate, I guess. or Eastwood forgot his glasses and couldn't read the teleprompter again. We may never know.

The good part was that when Morricone got up to give his speech (in Italian, which Paltrow was pretending to understand), Quincy Jones and his daughter (Karen, from "The Office") totally stole Morricone's seat. No, he didn't steal it. He moved down to fill in for the cameras, but I like to think he and his daughter were treating it like a baseball game and thinking "if that guy leaves, we're totally snagging those seats!"

Also, for some reason, a Mussolini look-alike was seated behind Morricone's wife. I guess the Morricone's are old school Italians..?

I suppose I'm mostly irritated to know that the Soccer-Moms of America will now be driving around in their Ford Excursions listening to "the new Celine", unaware that Dion has butchered a once perfectly reputable bit of movie scoring.

Only at the Oscars would people choose to honor a man by taking one of his greatest works, render it unrecognizable, and hand it over to help a hokey Vegas-act sell some CD's at Wal-Mart while diluting any sense of the man's genius from the song. After all, Celine's producer's soft-rock sensibility know that lowest common denomintaor sound that really sells.

Congrats, Ennio. Welcome to LA.

Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film For Theaters

Coming soon...



I now know this film will have everything I ever wanted to see in a single movie.

Thank you, movie poster.

Justice League of America: THE MOVIE?

Great Rao!

Warner Bros. to try the impossible and make a JLA film!

Randy sent along this link.

Comic Fodder had this to say (Shawn's words, not mine).

Ain't It Cool News

And the all-seeing eye of Variety. Note that Variety used a JLU comic cover with Vibe right smack dab in the middle. I take this as an ill-omen.

***UPDATE***

I've posted a bit on some thoughts for WB as they embark on this venture.

New Machine

No Obama

I didn't see Obama today. I'm a bit down about it. Apparently Texans for Obama underestimated the appeal of their own candidate as I circled for twenty or thirty minutes looking for a place to park north and south of the river, and as I was on my lonesome and it began raining, I threw in the towel and went home.

News8 was estimating 20,000 folks were there to see Obama, and Texans for Obama thought they'd max out at 16,000. Originally the meet had been scheduled for Gregory Gym. That would have been a fiasco as Gregory Gym sits at the center of campus and has zero parking and accessibility for non-UT staff and students.

I take it Mr. Obama's campaign is going well.

At lunch the other day we were discussing Obama, and I think his appeal over Clinton is that Hilary might be the smartest person in the room... or she might not. She's sort of the valedictorian who got there by sacrificing every moment of social time and spending lunches in the library. She knows she's worked for it, and thus believes she deserves the position and the accolades. But when she goes up to give her big valedictorian address, she comes off bitter and weird and demanding of respect. When she talks about her high school years, and what she sees for the future, everyone sort of realizes "Wow, you spent every Saturday night watching SNL alone, didn't you?"

Let the Conversation Begin? ...yikes...

Oh, Hilary, you over-achiever, you.

Obama might be more of the same, but he's so new to the national political scene and he's been fairly consistent since he came on the scene that one doesn't look at him with 16 years of baggage tied on. And, as my friend Juan said, he's got that "Mr. Obama Goes to Washington" vibe going on.

I guess since I missed him, now I have to read his website.



A Vista with a View

Leaguers may recall that I recently purchased a new desk. Leaguers may also recall that the motherboard on my laptop recently took the dirt nap.

So, unable to deal with the realities of the modern world sans computer, I went and ordered a Dell Desktop. As you can imagine, all new Dell's come with Microsoft Vista.

I was pleased with the haul I got with my fairly standard desktop. 20" monitor, printer, some fairly nice speakers, optical mouse and a really, really clacky keyboard. Clack. Clack. Clack.

I'm sort of non-plussed with Vista, as I suspected I would be. They've sort of changed everything just enough that you have to spend an extra twenty seconds poking around for once familiar icons, etc... As the Mac commercials promise, Vista does have the Agent Smith security asking you questions as you plug along, but I don't think it's really any different from what MS has tradionally done with Windows. That's not to say I love the pop-ups, but I sort of feel like that's par for the course when dealing with Microsoft's security problems.

The look is certainly inspired by the gummy, glassy look Mac's UI has sported for the past few years, although it's tinged with a bit of the ol' MS sterility.

One thing MS should do when you get your new computer is ask you: Are you an idiot? Click here for "yes", click here for "no". In a week or so, the questions and "getting to know you" screens will quit appearing. For now I just minimize them and occasionally poke around, but for the most part... Windows is windows, and I don't really need a tutorial. And my guess is, most folks buying Vista aren't going to welcome those screens, either.

There's a feature called "Gadgets" that's sort of dumb, but I confess to liking the big, shiny clock and calendar living in the background.

I sort of miss 3.1 every once in a while. Oh, sweet Packard Bell 486, you were my first love. We got through the Clinton years together. Sure, it was weird in those final months when I had to tap the hard drive on the desk to get it to start spinning... but those were good times. Good times.



New Route

The problem now is that I think I figured out that my Linksys wireless router's WIRED portion isn't working. In short, I can either run the WAN into the wireless router and Jamie has access, or I run it into my machine and I have internet access.

Is four years too late to return a wireless router to Best Buy?

Update

BIG COMIC WEEK

Goodness. After a few lackluster weeks, this week was kind of nuts. Superman finally hit the stands again. Civil War #7. Amazing Spider-Man. Wonder Woman. Checkmate. A good week. I'll be posting reviews, etc... to Comic Fodder.


Can't Vote for my Candidate

So after swearing off American Idol, I decided to spend some time with Jamie last night, and that meant watching American Idol.

I think I'm letting my prior irritation with the show go as I understand AI understood they may have crossed a line with their audition shows this year, and at this point, they are getting down to the nitty gritty of actually caring about how people sing.

Anyhoo, I only watched about half of last night's show, but I thought it was pretty clear that Lakisha Jones is in a completely different league from the other teeny-bopper contestants trying their best to emulate better singers. Lakisha simply IS one of those better singers. She's simply not been discovered to this point.

Lakisha is not beautiful, and when not singing, her self-esteem drops to nil. But I think AI voters are smarter than they used to be and no longer just vote for the poodles the first few rounds.

As mentioned above, I couldn't vote for Lakisha. I tried. I tried calling on and off for about an hour and could never get through as the line was busy. I take that as a very good sign for Ms. Jones.



'08

Friday I am taking time out of my busy schedule to go and see Presidential Hopeful Barack Obama speak at Auditorium Shores. Schedule providing, I want to see everyone who swings through Austin and speaks in a public venue which does not require $1000 a plate dinners. This includes folks from any party you want to throw at me.

I am, of course, most curious about Obama. I've no idea what his politics and policies actually are (I guess I could read his book or his website), and aside from being relatively fresh to DC, and having a smoking habit, I don't know much about the guy. So Friday I shall go to hear some platitudes and get some vitamin D.




I 2 IKEA

When I was 17 we were headed back from a weekend in San Antonio visiting College Jason. I have no idea how long it had been there, but it was the first time I'd ever noticed Ikea, and the first time I had to go there.

As a grumpy 17-year-old with lots of homework to do and with no plans to buy furniture, I was more or less shanghied into a shopping trip to the amazing assemble-it-yourself furniture store. If Ikea was looking to create a nightmare scenario for a reluctant shopper, they'd fully succeeded.

For those of you have never been to Ikea, it's the only shopping experience I'm aware of that demands a forced march out of its patrons. Like Disney World, there are probably hidden doors and passagways for use by the staff, but for schlubs like me, you have an endless march through adorable housing goods ahead of you.

The bottom line is that Ikea requires that you make a visit to their store an event. You cannot go to Ikea just to buy, say, a spatula. You're going to pick up a table, an ottoman, cutting board, drapes and various unnecessary plastic objects.

So this week I needed an inexpensive desk. I'd done my due diligence at Target, Wal-Mart, Office Depot and the Office Max site. But as a gentleman of generous vertical and horizontal proportions, and with a mass close to that of a white dwarf star, I was pretty sure one of the particleboard specials designed for college kids wasn't going to work for me.

So, after a little bit of browsing their website, I decided Wednesday would send me to Ikea.

Ikea is located north of Round Rock, which is a pretty good jog from South Austin. When I was a kid, Round Rock was but a happy little hamlet without much going on. In fact, their two claims to fame were (A) during the cowboy era, a notorious criminal named Sam Bass had been gunned down in the streets of Round Rock, and (B) the actual Round Rock, which was a point for turning around in a creek on the Chisolm Trail.

Now, it's suburban sprawl of the Chandler-kind. JoAnne Fabrics abound. Restaurants like "Cheddar's" dot the freeway. A huge flyover is being put in at an intersection that used to be a swinging stop light. It's a true oddity how Austin stops a few miles South of downtown, but goes on for an infinite distance North of town.

The Ikea was a looming monstrosity of Univ. of Michigan blue and gold, clearly visible a mile or two before reaching the store. What struck me immediately is that Ikea's philosophy is fundamentally different from virtually any other store. They trust their own shoppers to handle their shopping. There are not chipper teenagers positioned every thirty feet (who can't answer your questions, anyway). Items are marked fairly well, and you're able to grab a pencil and paper and write down the items you need to pick from the bins at the end. Further proving their faith in their shoppers, Ikea requires that if you want a desk, you don't just write down the table name. You have to write down the tabletop model, the frame number and the sort of legs you'd like as all parts are mix-n'match. There's a bit of personal responsibility associated with your purchasing. No commissioned sales staff showing you items you don't want to look at, and because you live by the laws of polite society, you are forced to look at.

Also, they had a totally sweet late-80's mix playing over the PA at a comfortable volume everywhere you went.

But I still had to walk through The Maze of Scandinavian Consumer Madness. I can't say it didn't work. I bought a cheese grater Octavio had once described to me in glowing terms, a spatula I thought would solve my pancake-and-egg-turning problem, a cutting board for properly shuffling chopped vegetable bits into a pot, and a turtle pillow for Jamie's delicate noggin. But mostly, I found a desk of the exact dimensions I'd imagined, with adjustable legs to fit my elephantine body structure, and it was white. I did not want stained wood as the colors of my office are, shall we say, not exactly reminiscent of a woodland meadow. I also have to mention the price was in line with what I might have paid for a low-end desk elsewhere, the furniture was easier to assemble than any Target furniture, and was made out of materials I have some faith in.

I'm definitely much more supportive of the Ikea than I was prior to my shopping expedition. I am not crazy about the near-hour drive to get there, nor the aimless meandering of shopping there, but I suspect repeat trips to Ikea will not be a frequent occurence. However, return we will. I saw options for our kitchen and for our upstairs hall/ oddly proportioned upstairs area that gave me some ideas. And that, Leaguers, is the point of the forced march. I may not have bought a hallway's worth of bookshelves yesterday, but I might next time.

Ikea, you win again.

2007 Mellies?

Hey, Leaguers. Last year I think I got a little overambitious as far as The Mellies went. We had tons of questions, about 4X the number of respondents I'd expected, and I spent an insane amount of time putting the whole thing back together. Basically, by the end, I swore I'd never do it again.

Instead of abandoning the Mellies, I'm looking for interest levels to see if I should run this again.

How did you feel the last round went?

If we did it, would you participate?

Would you be willing to place your answers in the comments section rather than have me assemble everyone's responses?

It's in your hands, Leaguers. Tell me what you want.

Bone Headed Movie

Just saw "Ghost Rider".

Wow.

Curiously, it's not Nic Cage who is going to drive you nuts. I think Nic Cage must have held both the director and the script in contempt and chose to just sort of do his own thing. And that's the only brilliance you'll see in "Ghost Rider".

After the movie spends somewhere near twenty minutes putting together the set-up, the rest of the action is just sorta obvious. Sorta. They pretty much say "Here's Ghost Rider, here's what he does. He has to keep X from happening." But this is also one of those movies where things were either lost in script versions, on the editing room floor, or because the director didn't know what he was doing. This is the same director as Daredevil, so who knows. Not me. There's just some action that seems to occur just to occur and not because it makes much sense. Like Wes Bentley's wardrobe.

It's not really clear why Satan's son is in a fight with daddy, or what his master plan is. Or why he...

Oh, heck. At least the movie moves along really, really fast. And Eva Mendes is very good looking, even if she has the least believable presence as a news reporter in recent memory. But, again, she's very good looking, and so we can forgive her.

Sam Elliot plays the old Ghost Rider, who actually DOES have precedent from the comics, if my West Coast Avengers memory serves.

I dunno. It's a dumb movie. But the FX are decent, Cage was funny, and Eva Mendes is, I repeat, very good looking.

I've not read a lot of Ghost Rider comics. Frankly, I thought the character was sort of one note. But that can work okay in a movie. It just doesn't sustain over an ongoing comic series.

What up

I think at this point I've more or less explained what that post from the other day was all about to the folks who asked. Let us all put that behind us now, shall we?

I learned an important lesson this week regarding my expectations of my own life, and, I think, in keeping my ears and eyes open when it comes to the big decisions.

In less exciting life lessons, I also learned that the comic store is going to do everything their power not to give you any money for your comics when you go to resell back issues. The good news on this is that I held onto a lot of my Spider-Man comics, so those didn't just disappear on me. I also still have my runs on X-Men and Uncanny X-Men. And more closet space. But I will never, ever try to resell comics at the comic shop. I guess I don't mind too much that I practically gave away the comics I gave away, as I had no plans for reading them ever again, and was pretty certain nobody was going to be that interested in reading them, either.

But, yeah, the whole thing left a sort of bad taste in my mouth. I can't say my tastes are really that much more refined today than they were when I bought a lot of those comics in the last twelve years or so, but I was given some good tips by my Comic Shop owner/manager in PHX. His advice: Pick one thing you're going to collect, focus on that, and if you manage to collect all of those, great. Then you can move on. Now, this applies for purchase of back-issues and less for purchase of current titles. Obviously if I buy Extreme Combat Rats #1, it doesn't mean I should buy every issue of Extreme Combat Rats. But it does mean that if I am to "build" a collection, it's best to have long runs ona title. There is, basically, no advice for what to do with your copies of Extreme Combat Rats numbers 1 -4 that you purchased, but gave up on, and then saw was cancelled with issue 13. It's unlikely anyone will ever really want those.

(Although there will be someone out there who will set up an Extreme Combat Rats fan site, possibly with their own fan art and fan fiction.)

What I did get was some store credit to Austin Books, with which I picked up the Invincible Ultimate Collection Vol. 1, as per JimD's recommendation. And JimD was right. Invincible doesn't necessarily bring a lot new to the superhero genre, nor even really the Teen Superhero genre. Instead, the series takes the concept and simply chooses to execute on some fairly well worn ideas extremely well. In fact, a forward thinking movie producer would find a way to turn the first 13 issues into a very popular 2-2.5 hour movie.

Saturday jason auditioned me for our new, non-existent band. Jamie played key boards, I played the bass and Jason played drums. Sigmund showed up for the end and played the trombone, and thus was born: Sigmund and the Steans Monster (and Andy). Look for us to be filling stadiums next summer, as people rock out to our hit "If I was a Fish".

Last night we headed to Jeff and Keora's place over on Enfield. Apparently Jeff and Keora live in a quad-apartmenet building tucked amongst some obscenely expensive homes in one of Austin's older, monied neighborhoods. I do not know why, but their rent is insanely reasonable. A while back I kept asking Jeff why he didn't move, but I will never ask him that question again.

Anyway, Jason just called and I think we're headed for food, coffee and maybe the dog park.

Best Movie... Ever?

Could the upcoming live action adaptation of Underdog be the greatest movie ever?

We'll see...