Nathan C works at Texas Public Radio in San Antonio. He also wears tweed, turtlenecks and corduroy, and frequently looks down his nose at people exactly like you.
Well, none of that is true. Nathan is a hip, hip guy who knows more about movies and jazz than almost all of The League Nation combined. Seriously, dude is an encyclopedia (and he also knows a surprising amount about Disney animation).
Anyway, Nathan is one of the honchos at Texas Public Radio in programming, but he also does stories from time to time.
Check this out. Or here.
I meant to post earlier, but Jamie just came back from running an errand and said "Nathan was on the radio!"
Jamie and Nathan (and Steanso) all went to school together.
Anyway, the story is on a documentary about a family struggling with autism and the unusual way they're finding to work with their kid.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Disney's "The Incredible Journey": A Study in Animal Abuse
I know I'm supposed to be on hiatus, but...
I'm watching the original version of Disney's "The Incredible Journey", a movie I last saw on what must have been a 16mm print in elementary school.
This is one seriously screwed up movie. I mean, its a cute kids' movie as far as stories go.
But I turned it on partway through, and have seen the following:
1) This movie seems to take place in multiple simultaneous time periods, from the 1880's to the 1960's. And maybe both in the UK and the US. That's a tough journey for any animal.
2) They threw a real live cat into a raging river to get shots of a cat paddling furiously in a raging river.
3) And then threw a retriever in right after the cat, but he got to smash up against rocks
4) Then they released a real, live Lynx after the poor cat. Neither the cat nor the Lynx were screwing around at all. I sort of wondered how many cats they went through to get that shot.
5) They may have also stuck real porcupine quills in the lab's face.
Am beginning to appreciate PETA's role in Hollywood.
I'm watching the original version of Disney's "The Incredible Journey", a movie I last saw on what must have been a 16mm print in elementary school.
This is one seriously screwed up movie. I mean, its a cute kids' movie as far as stories go.
But I turned it on partway through, and have seen the following:
1) This movie seems to take place in multiple simultaneous time periods, from the 1880's to the 1960's. And maybe both in the UK and the US. That's a tough journey for any animal.
2) They threw a real live cat into a raging river to get shots of a cat paddling furiously in a raging river.
3) And then threw a retriever in right after the cat, but he got to smash up against rocks
4) Then they released a real, live Lynx after the poor cat. Neither the cat nor the Lynx were screwing around at all. I sort of wondered how many cats they went through to get that shot.
5) They may have also stuck real porcupine quills in the lab's face.
Am beginning to appreciate PETA's role in Hollywood.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Good-Bye to Digger the Cat
We're sad to report that Digger, Doug's much loved cat, has passed.
When Jamie and I began dating, Doug was living in Austin working for one of the sky-rocketing tech companies in town. It was fairly routine that Jamie and I would visit Doug at his apartment, where, one day Doug literally found several kittens on his doorstep. Doug would adopt one of the cats and his friends the others.
As a dog person, Digger was the first cat I actually liked. He liked to play, wasn't prone to clawing one's leg for no reason, and seemed interested in people. He was a very friendly guy, and was, in no small part, part of why I considered getting a cat before we were in a house and could get a dog. Doug was also one of the first people who I saw who didn't treat his cat like a conversation piece, but genuinely played with and had a relationship with his cat.
Later, Digger would make the move with Doug to The Bay Area in the company of former roommate Russ and Digger's sibling, Disco. Digger was one of several cats at the now legendary Silicon Valley homestead The Sneaky Frog. Later, Digger would be joined by Dixie.
And when Kristen and Doug began dating, Digger gave Kristen the stamp of approval.
But almost as long as I've known Doug, Digger has been in the picture. He's been a good pal to Doug, and (if you ask me) a good ambassador for his species.
When we visited Berkeley this summer, I am happy to say that Digger was in good spirits and came out to play with us, making a playscape of some packing materials and generally not showing his age.
Of course, Doug was with Digger almost every day of his life, and Kristen has been the past few years as well.
Sadly, as these things go, Digger is an older cat, and he recently became ill. I am sorry to report that he passed today. Our thoughts are with Doug and Kristen.
We'll miss you, fella. A lot of people loved you.
When Jamie and I began dating, Doug was living in Austin working for one of the sky-rocketing tech companies in town. It was fairly routine that Jamie and I would visit Doug at his apartment, where, one day Doug literally found several kittens on his doorstep. Doug would adopt one of the cats and his friends the others.
As a dog person, Digger was the first cat I actually liked. He liked to play, wasn't prone to clawing one's leg for no reason, and seemed interested in people. He was a very friendly guy, and was, in no small part, part of why I considered getting a cat before we were in a house and could get a dog. Doug was also one of the first people who I saw who didn't treat his cat like a conversation piece, but genuinely played with and had a relationship with his cat.
Later, Digger would make the move with Doug to The Bay Area in the company of former roommate Russ and Digger's sibling, Disco. Digger was one of several cats at the now legendary Silicon Valley homestead The Sneaky Frog. Later, Digger would be joined by Dixie.
And when Kristen and Doug began dating, Digger gave Kristen the stamp of approval.
But almost as long as I've known Doug, Digger has been in the picture. He's been a good pal to Doug, and (if you ask me) a good ambassador for his species.
When we visited Berkeley this summer, I am happy to say that Digger was in good spirits and came out to play with us, making a playscape of some packing materials and generally not showing his age.
Of course, Doug was with Digger almost every day of his life, and Kristen has been the past few years as well.
Sadly, as these things go, Digger is an older cat, and he recently became ill. I am sorry to report that he passed today. Our thoughts are with Doug and Kristen.
We'll miss you, fella. A lot of people loved you.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Story of Jeff the Cat, Part II
In the time before time… when all was fire, and flesh and claw, the cat would rise from a place in the north of the city.
There came a time when the queen would decree a travel westward, into the face of the burning sun and into the place of the barren wastes, where trees bearing fruit grew spiny and creatures scuttled on their bellies across the earth.
The queen traveled ahead to the wasteland, choosing the place they would call home. The matter done, she called forth the cat, the wise canine companion and their human manservant.
The cat, always quick to anger, was without guile, and so demanded his transport not by carriage on the roadways, but passage in the belly of the silver beasts that coursed the sky.
“Ha!” declared the manservant. “They stow you in a crate like precious cargo!”
But the cat did not respond. The knowledge of his error was plain. He would ride in the beasts' belly, feeble from the elixir given him by the manservant to ease his nerve. The queen would receive him and place him first among the clan to inhabit the new dwelling, before even she gave up her temporary residence to come to the new place.
Alone he hid beneath the porcelain throne, waiting, until one day (he knew not how long) the door was thrown open and the dog and the manservant arrived with the comforts of their home. But it was not the cat's home.
For three years did the cat dwell in the desert, his displeasure constant, his look one of an ever growing madness. Still did the cat strike out against the queen and the manservant and queen, and why they suffered him to live, none could say.
In the third year the foolish dog came to the cat’s house, and here she made a bed for herself.
She wore not the gruff solemnity of her canine kin whom the cat knew, but appeared with a wild madness, her mind adrift, her thoughts as thin as the wind.
The foolish dog, though the cat paid her no heed, would go undeterred in her interest and affection for the cat.
“We are friends!” she insisted.
The cat slinked away, needing no companion but his own stewing anger.
Until one evening, long after the queen had retired and the manservant watched over his companions, did the cat demonstrate to the foolish dog his disdain.
The manservant met the gaze of each of the companions. “I ask you three, what is best in life?”
The foolish dog, always quick to answer with no thought in her brains spoke first:
“To have fresh dog chow. To find oneself on a warm spring day with the sun on your tummy. To eat rocks and vomit them.”
“Wrong!” barked the manservant. “Cat! What is best in life?”
“To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women.”
The manservant eyed the cat for a long time, before turning to He Who They Called The Melbotis.
“Dog. What is best in life?”
“Knowledge of the place within the pack. The trust and love of The Queen. Quiet nights by the side of the manservant.”
The manservant seemed pleased.
The cat sat silently. Behind his eyes, the flames of chaos flickered and began to ebb.
Coming soon: Part III
There came a time when the queen would decree a travel westward, into the face of the burning sun and into the place of the barren wastes, where trees bearing fruit grew spiny and creatures scuttled on their bellies across the earth.
The queen traveled ahead to the wasteland, choosing the place they would call home. The matter done, she called forth the cat, the wise canine companion and their human manservant.
The cat, always quick to anger, was without guile, and so demanded his transport not by carriage on the roadways, but passage in the belly of the silver beasts that coursed the sky.
“Ha!” declared the manservant. “They stow you in a crate like precious cargo!”
But the cat did not respond. The knowledge of his error was plain. He would ride in the beasts' belly, feeble from the elixir given him by the manservant to ease his nerve. The queen would receive him and place him first among the clan to inhabit the new dwelling, before even she gave up her temporary residence to come to the new place.
Alone he hid beneath the porcelain throne, waiting, until one day (he knew not how long) the door was thrown open and the dog and the manservant arrived with the comforts of their home. But it was not the cat's home.
For three years did the cat dwell in the desert, his displeasure constant, his look one of an ever growing madness. Still did the cat strike out against the queen and the manservant and queen, and why they suffered him to live, none could say.
In the third year the foolish dog came to the cat’s house, and here she made a bed for herself.
She wore not the gruff solemnity of her canine kin whom the cat knew, but appeared with a wild madness, her mind adrift, her thoughts as thin as the wind.
The foolish dog, though the cat paid her no heed, would go undeterred in her interest and affection for the cat.
“We are friends!” she insisted.
The cat slinked away, needing no companion but his own stewing anger.
Until one evening, long after the queen had retired and the manservant watched over his companions, did the cat demonstrate to the foolish dog his disdain.
The manservant met the gaze of each of the companions. “I ask you three, what is best in life?”
The foolish dog, always quick to answer with no thought in her brains spoke first:
“To have fresh dog chow. To find oneself on a warm spring day with the sun on your tummy. To eat rocks and vomit them.”
“Wrong!” barked the manservant. “Cat! What is best in life?”
“To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women.”
The manservant eyed the cat for a long time, before turning to He Who They Called The Melbotis.
“Dog. What is best in life?”
“Knowledge of the place within the pack. The trust and love of The Queen. Quiet nights by the side of the manservant.”
The manservant seemed pleased.
The cat sat silently. Behind his eyes, the flames of chaos flickered and began to ebb.
Coming soon: Part III
A Brief Hiatus
I leave you with this clip. The music is not original to the movie. This clip seems to be a fan creation. Also, I've never seen this movie before, but it just got bumped to the top of my Netflix Queue.
Miss Vera Lynn and "The Battle of Britain".
We'll be back before you know it.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Snake Grows Foot, Terrifies League
Shoemaker just posted this elsewhere.
I am going to go to bed and hide beneath the covers now.
Added Shoemaker found item bonus!!!
Collinsworth on his Romantic Life
I don't know Cris Collinsworth from his actual NFL days, but I've sort of loathed the man as first the host of Fox TV's "Guinness Book of World Records" freak show, and then as an NFL commentator and host.
Leaguers, I present to you: Collinsworth, the man in his own words:
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