Friends, Romans, Countrymen...

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

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

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

Condolensces can be sent to: j_steans@msn.com

Ahhhhhhh... politics.

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

So what's Mel been up to?


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

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

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

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

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

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

best news in weeks:

Indiana Jones is coming to DVD

In response to yesterday's blog, Jim wrote:

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

Singer seems to get it . . .

I responded with:

I whole heartedly agree. I must have been unclear.

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

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

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

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

So Jim said:

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

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

So I am inclined to say:

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

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

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

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

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

Go SPURS.


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

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

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

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

X-Men 2.

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

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

1) this movie is NOT your typical comic book movie

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

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

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

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

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

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

3) this movie is a metaphor for something or other

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


why do robots need noses or mouths?

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

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

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

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

In his honor, I point to this link.

Thank you, Jim.

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

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

Toys That Should Not Be

Here's the crackalackin' shiznizzle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ahhhh.... The Suburbs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

News Item from Thursday:

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.... shit.

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

read the article here.

this is worth checking out.

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


The Mad Bomber himself.

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

Modern Angst:

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

How drunk was this guy?

and, oh yeah...

Go Spurs!

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

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

Jesus H. Christ.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

best song ever

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TTSNB

Wow. There's a market out there for everything. I thought the cartoony duke boys from a few days ago were a little weird. What I guess I find all the more odd are the people who wax nostalgic over slasher movies. Friday the 13th and it's progeny are formulaic and gross and really, not all that much fun when you're over the age of 12 and realize co-eds really do get cut up, and it's not cute and funny. But someboy must like this stuff. But is it an appropriate snow globe to place alongside your Tower of London snow globe and that one from Hannibal, Missouri?

Wow. Yesterday was kind of crazy with Baghdad falling and all. I was getting my lunch at a great place (Bento Bar) here in Tempe when I saw on Keith's TV an image of Iraqi's pulling down the statue of Saddam Hussein. Whether you are for or against Bush's methodology in initiating the war, you have to be a little glad Saddam is gone. Unless you're Saddam. And if you're Saddam and you're reading this, fuck you, man.

One wonders what the hell is going to happen now in a nation under serious suppression for 30 years. We know there are many rival factions in Iraq, not to mention the Turks tend to get twitchy around the Kurds, and there's some sort of Iraqi group that's been in exile and training soldiers for the past few years. In no way am I suggesting things were better under Saddam, but as democracy hasn't exactly been the order of the day in Iraq since... ever, one wonders how all of this will shake out. My co-worker suggested making them the 51st state just to see what would happen. Yes, he was kidding, but at one time, this was pretty much British policy, wasn't it? Only India didn't exactly have folks sitting in Parliament, if I remember my history correctly.

I keep playing with the idea of a weekly comic book review in order to promote comic book readership. I'd take a look at graphic novels, collected editions and regular monthly series. While the entire Universe for me may consist of Superman (and Melbotis, who is doing well, thank you), there are other comic books out there.

Toys That Should Not Be:

I've been slacking on this, in what was once my e-mail forum, but this is where, henceforth, I shall be displaying all Toys That Should Not Be.

While not technically a toy, I still felt these, uh... things, were worthy of note. Is anyone really longing for cartoonishly inaccurate Duke Boys?

I think what makes these all the more bizarre, aside from the fact that they're being offered 15 years after they might even have any kitschy relevance, is that they're actually very expensive and are being sold as a limited run. Possibly someone selling these things realized they'd be lucky to move 1500 of each of these ridiculous things. Even guessing that 1% of 1% of the American populace would shell out any money, let alone the $80 price tag they've heaped on these things, means someone is an optimist in the least profitable way.

Hey kids. Well, I accidentally erased everything, but you can thank your lucky stars that Jim D. had my back. I'll fix some of this later, but for now this is a quick dump to the re-formatted version of League of Melbotis.

More to come

Friday, April 04, 2003

this is my cat and my wife

this is Melbotis and me


up ahead.... The Thing...





posted by Ryan at 4:12 PM

Here's something you probably forgot all about.
posted by Ryan at 8:57 AM


Thursday, April 03, 2003

Arrgghhh... those reading this can't tell, but I am an absolutely rotten typist and am working to amend that problem. Every time I post, I swear I spend twice as much time editing as I do writing. I'm usually fixing grammatical errors (of which I leave in many prime examples, such as this one) and spelling and punctuation errors, although sometimes I realize I never finished a thought and have to go in and fill in the blanks. I am certainly no perfectionist, but I don't want to be just sloppy either.

I recently purchased The Day the Earth Stood Still on DVD. I didn't make it more than half the movie before I turned it off. These days it's hitting a bit close to home. I kind of wish Michael Renni would show up in a silver jump suit and dictate global policy. I'm not sure a re-make would do this movie justice as it was directed in it's time by Robert Wise, current President of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, and director of The Sound of Music. Go figure.


Action Comics #802 came out on Wednesday. Lots of Zod and Luthor, picking up in a far more interesting direction than where I assumed this story would go. Check out the art. It looks good past the Darwyn Cook cover. I don't know who this Derenick guy is, but he's really good in a Jim Lee sort of way. That's not to say Darwyn doesn't do a good job, but he's got a unique style which some folks might not be into. Just keep in mind that is not the same art that's inside the cover (I would assume the artist was too busy putting out these great-looking pages and ran out of time for nice covers) if you're standing at the spinner-rack at Borders.


Speaking of Jim Lee, the best looking Batman stories in a looonnnggg time are happening over in Batman comics, with Jeph Loeb writing, so look for it. Jeph Loeb wrote some great Batman specials in years past (The Long Halloween, Dark Victory) and recently wrapped up on Superman. He's also a writer on the WB'S Smallville, so the man gets around.


Kudos to Jim D. for the big box of Superman comics he sent me that he'd saved from his youth. I'm just really reading them now, and they're a big heap o' fun and in great condition. My one beef is that there are a lot of #1 issues here, and I have no idea what happens after any of these #1's. Now I have to go look for back issues.


I am so tired, I am going to bed, but I hope someone is reading this. If they are, and they are not my lovely wife, let me know.

posted by Ryan at 11:26 PM


Wednesday, April 02, 2003

The anti-christ walks among us.
posted by Ryan at 10:25 PM

Tragedy in Metropolis! A special report

Some people are just jerks. And the rest of us just take some things far too seriously that we should not.


I'm not referring to that wise-cracking Saddam. No, a crime of questionable proportion has been perpetrated upon the people of the non-fictional town of Metropolis, Illinois. Metropolis is a hamlet located in the southern part of Illinois where the spirit of Superman has become lifestyle and commerce. In order to drum up industry and tourism, Metropolis has gone ahead and run with the whole Superman theme. Strange, but true.


DC Comics has officially dubbed Metropolis the Home of Superman. Metropolis is a bizarre little corner of America where all things Superman come to life: the Superman Museum is located (I believe) in the town square, city hall used to give out Kryptonite rocks to kids (to help keep them out of Luthor's hands!), and the Metropolis paper is actually now called The Planet. Every year Metropolis holds a Superman Celebration which is attended by, reportedly, tens of people. Such stars as Jack Larson (Jimmy Olsen) and Noel Neill (Lois Lane) and Sarah Douglas (Ursa) regularly attend the festival. For years I've dreamt of visiting Metropolis for the festival, but, to be honest, I think after about three hours it would be kind of weird. And that's a long way to go for a couple of awkward hours of fat men in Superman shirts.


At the center of the town square stands (or stood) a 15 foot bronze statue of Superman with the words "Truth, Justice and the American Way" emblazoned upon the base. I would assume as an April Fools joke, somebody took it upon themselves to liberate the Superman statue. A semi-official version of events can be found here.


I wish the people of Metropolis godspeed in finding their statue. Some townsfolk are now suggesting the Celebration cannot go on if the statue is not found, or is found in a state of disrepair. Metropolis is not a huge town with tax dollars enough to spend money on repairing the statue or building a new one, and as I understand it, the Celebration is a bit of a boon to their economy.


I hope those who performed this villainous deed are happy with themselves. They've probably made little Kal-El cry.

posted by Ryan at 10:59 AM


Tuesday, April 01, 2003

This brave little lass shows us what it means to be a patriot in these troubled times.

On my super-extended drive home tonight, it struck me that in 20 years, somebody is going to try to bring back American Idol. If we're willing to bring back Star Search, which was a little embarassing when it was originally on, surely we'll want to trot out this format again. I can almost imagine Mary Hart interviewing Simon Cowell in an era when the Jihad has actually succeeded and we're all kind of Muslim. Someone is going to do this, and I want 20 space-bucks when it happens, because I will have predicted it.


What with a war on, and a sloberringly insane North Korea on our plate in addition to several million irritated Frenchmen, the world has become a dark place. But I think I may have found the salve. If you're having some bleak, bleak thoughts about current events, I highly, highly suggest you enjoy this page . For a more direct dose of it all, for those of you with a high-end connection, go here and have your spirits renewed.


Jim D suggested a new name for this Blog: The Unbearable Lightness of Steans


I'm not against it. I'm still kicking the suggestion around, but just when I was thinking of implementing it, Dan P of Austin suggested I adopt the name Axis of Steans. For now I'm sticking with a pro-Melbotis format.


Also, check out this.

posted by Ryan at 9:12 PM

this is just funny.


***update***


As of 7:00am Arizona time (we are neither Mountain, nor Pacific... you can't bring us DOWN!!!) Corey (Shut up, Corey) Clark has been booted from American Idol. I know that Jamie and I will be watching in rapt attention this evening to see what Simon will say! What is up with Corey's outfit in that photo? He looks like the world's worst cat burglar.

posted by Ryan at 2:58 PM

I had posted this last night very briefly, and in that time, Jim managed to send me this article, which I find interesting. Review at your leisure. I'm not sure I agree with what the author of this article says in it's entirety, but here at League of Melbotis, there are no stupid ideas, only stupid me.

Below is what I originally said:


I'm a fan of objectivity in my journalism. I am aware that from a truly critical stand-point, no person can truly be objective. I am also aware that a pretense of objectivity, is, at it's very heart, deceptive. HOWEVER, the recent trend toward mixing editorialization (thanks Fox News) with actual factual reporting has done some strange things.


I was struck by the oddity of Peter Arnett's release from National Geographic and NBC today. Reporters must now be very careful what they say, and not just in giving away troop movements. Apparently disagreeing with the Pentagon press releases and those sassy generals who take the podium everyday in their desert camouflage (which clashes very badly with that "we're on CNN!" backdrop) is a BIG no-no. Is Arnett wrong to perform this interview anymore than the American press whom have volunteered to be mouthpieces for the US military by embedding themselves into army units? The question arises: when CAN reporters be blunt about their assesment if it does not coincide with the objectives of the US government powers-that-be? This is not a question of a Dixie Chick trash talking in London, this is a very seasoned journalist with a front row seat being asked to recant his observations, and STILL paying the price with his job. Is Christiane Amanpour required to regurgitate the press releases generated from Virginia when she's sitting in Kuwait, lest she be removed from the airwaves?


I don't know, but I do know I find the control of information and number of coerced public apologies cropping up lately a bit disturbing. The news media's collusion in this and their adoption of "if you're not with us, you're against us" smacks of that fun term I don't get to use often enough.. Neo-McCarthyism! How do we recognize when we've crossed that fine line in protecting ourselves?

posted by Ryan at 8:32 AM


Monday, March 31, 2003

I wasn't planning on adding anything else, but what the hell is wrong down at Fox?
Corey "Shut up, Corey" Clark, one of American Idol's final 9 contestants apparently spent last fall beating up his sister and some cops. I realize the producers of American Idol are very busy people, but is a criminal background check THAT complicated? Read the article to understand what I mean.

I watch a fair amount of American Idol. My wife is enamored with the show, but as she tolerates my adoration of all things Superman, I let this little fault slide. Last summer, I dubbed Kelly Clarkson a pie-faced dweeb, and I guarantee you, America, when her stupid movie with Justin Guarini is released, you too shall turn on this talentless powder puff. I suspect that Kimberly Caldwell (the girl who has taken Renee Zellweger's line and claimed Katy, TX is a small town and not part of the Houston megalopolis) will be this season's Kelly. She's talentless and blonde, so America's text-voting teen-populace must love her. I mean, they keep buying Mariah Carey albums, so why not this, too?


I myself am a Trenyce man. Go Trenyce.


One could navel gaze endlessly about why so many tune into "unscripted" television (and I suspect multiple blogs do so, because the press likes to talk about that more than obesity), but the truth is this: We've already seen every scripted show in prime time. I mean, has it not occured to the Powers That Be that after 10 seasons on the air, Law and Order might have already run out of ideas? No. Rather, we've added 15 other Law and Order shows, and what the hell happened to Dragnet? Is it even on anymore?


We've seen all the shows that people would actually believe in a fictional context, so now we require Fear Factor to display that Miss USA WILL eat pig testicles for her favorite charity. I mean, it doesn't make for a good episode of the Golden Girls, but the "Oh, sweet Christ, no!" factor is undeniable.


After how many seasons of Jerry and 15 runs of Survivor, people still do not realize that only 1 in a thousand reality television show contestants actually go onto other things. Can you name even 7 of the final 10 contestants from American Idol last season? Probably not, and millions watched the show. And so the program draws in contestants like Corey "Shut up, Corey" Clark, Cop Fighter!


I wouldn't suggest that one NOT watch these shows, I mean, the alternative is Yes, Dear and According to Jim, for God's sake, but keep in mind that every one of these contestants is as dumb as a post and unemployable enough that they have TIME to not work for a month of shooting. Just remember that when you put that pie-faced dweeb, Kimberly Caldwell up on a pedastal. And if ANYONE buys the Kelly Clarkson CD and can PROVE they're still listening to it regularly in two months, I will send them $100.


I think the most original scripted program on the air today is probably Invader Zim, and that may be only because I've seen only a handful of episodes.


posted by Ryan at 10:43 PM

jdedman4: any blog topics tonight?
Steanz: My insecurity in putting up a blog
jdedman4: self referential, that's good
Steanz: well, it is a little weird, i think
jdedman4: that is what blogging is about
Steanz: anyway, it'll be up before 10pm
jdedman4: obsevations on life/culture with odd personal tidbits
jdedman4: part commentary / part voyeurism

I'm going through a period of self-doubt about the very notion of this (or any other) blog. Specifically, I'm uncomfortable with anyone reading the text I might put online, especially given that I agreed to begin this blog as a one-man forum (which is what?) to espouse a dissenting slant on political/ whatever issues as put forth by an associate of mine. I would suggest it is only my own hubris which allowed me to originally begin this blog for the above stated purpose. I'm usually ill-informed and prone to knee-jerk sentiment, all of which makes most of this a waste of valuable internet real-estate. By assuming that others would wish to actually spend their valuable time perusing this blog (journal? chronicle? steaming pile of crap?), am I indulging in the most narcissistic behavior since I was 8 and put my own face on a novelty t-shirt which I proudly wore for the better part of a year? No, there are no photos, so don't ask.


The whole thing has an ugly Reality TV-contestant vibe. By virtue of even creating a posting, I am demanding the attention of others with this digital soapbox, yet I am neither talented nor good looking enough to get my own show based on any true merit. Cyberspace (for lack of a better geographic description) is a very, very big place, and I would suspect that virtually no one, including family and friends, who has received the link to this site, will ever click on the link to the blog after an initial inspection. This is both liberating and somewhat ego-crushing. Of course it would be nice to think the sound and fury means something, but let's be realistic.


That said, tonight I am tired. It was a long day down at the salt mines. I'd rather not go into it here because even Jamie looked a little bored with my tales of woe.


Melbotis has a friend who lives on the other side of our cinder-block fence (all fences in Chandler are made of cinder-block). He's some sort of whte dog with some pit bull in him, I think. Every night when I let Mel out to go and enjoy the back yard we maintain so very nicely for him, he goes to the corner behind the lime tree and barks. Eventually his friend jumps up on the fence, leans over the very top of it, barks once or twice, and then falls back on his side of the fence. The white dog will do this all day. Jump, bark, fall. Mel has to do very, very little to participate but bark back. Mel is also fairly overweight and incapable of getting in the Subaru without a little assistance, so to expect much out of him as part of this game is probably unrealistic.


posted by Ryan at 8:44 PM


Sunday, March 30, 2003

Greetings and welcome to the League of Melbotis weblog. For those of you NOT in the know, Melbotis is my dog. He's a good boy and he knows absolutely no tricks. Melbotis was not always my dog, he used to live with Jenny Perkins, so if I ever track her down, I have to give credit to her diligence in bringing up such a fine dog.

This weekend I was told to create a blog by Jim Tiberius Dedman of www.jdedman.com I suggest you check out the link. Usually it's a really good site, unless he doesn't update it, but he does that very regularly.


Jim's a good guy, and against my better judgement, I've known him for several years. Anyway, I think his intention was that I blog to create some sort of dialogue about political matters. That's fine. I'm not sure how many people want to hear my side, but it seems better than generating e-mail or trying to keep up with Jimbo on AIM. It turns out that Jim types faster than me.


I'm currently living in Chandler, Arizona, which is a bedroom community about 30-40 minutes from the airport, but still considered to be in the Phoenix metroplex. I'm more or less from Austin, Texas, and I miss Guero's and Rudy's like some folks might miss an arm or foot.


In order to entertain myself out here in the desert, I read a lot of Superman comics, watch Monster Garage, and try to keep the pets entertained. Lately, I've been watching the war footage and shrieking in horror. Bombs make me nervous, even bombs far, far away, so I've decided that today I will not venture into man's inhumanity to man as a topic. Thus, I will keep my comments about Scottsdale brief.


This weekend Jamie and I attended the Tempe Arts Festival.


Scottsdale is North of Tempe, but apparently not far enough away. It's a place where really hideous rich people go to freak out and buy cars bigger than mine, leaving me insanely jealous. The citizens of Scottsdale descend on things like the Tempe Arts Festival in terrible pastels and with strollers full of kids named "Austin" and "Tyler" and "Britney". Their purchasing power has created an environment where its apparently impossible to sell or show anything resembling art at the arts fair. I'm not one who believes in high or low art, but I'm pretty sure that putting sequins on a denim skirt to look like a kitty does not qualify as even the dumbest of folkart. Nothing made with a machine bought from RonCo counts as art. Patrick Nagel fans take heed.


In investigating the tents set up along the way, I discovered that all you need to do to participate in the Tempe Arts fest is to have $400 to rent out a space, get a tent, and procure some crappy faux-Native American art, like a clay bowl or something. There are other objects'd'arte (sp?), like cuh-razy pictures of dogs and cats, and Henna art for mommies who are trying to remember when they were crazy, pissed-off undergrads. Anyway, it was a bit of a letdown. And too many pan flutes. Far too many pan flutes.


The art fair made me wonder what all the millions of art majors are doing once they graduate from college. Are they all at these fairs hawking rusted copper yard ornaments in the shapes of kitties? I don't know where the art majors go, but I suspect they end up doing tech support at Dell. That's what I think us failed film majors are up to.


In the end, I did get a bag of cinammon roasted almonds, which made the trip actually not seem completely wasted.


Jamie (the little lady) and I took Melbotis to the park on Saturday. It was a fine time and we flew the Justice League kite I bought at the gas station for $2.50. Given the price I paid to see XXX, I think the $2,50 was a much better investment. Typical of Chandler, Tumbleweed Park is a sprawling grass something or other watered by sewage, an investment of millions of dollars, and completely devoid of any actual patrons. Well, this week there was a children's birthday party going down, but instead of using the acres and acres of grass and park, the parents had rented a moonbounce. All the kids out here rent moonbounces on their birthdays. Every Saturday there's one of these atrocities sticking up over somebody's cinder-block fence, accompanied by the shrill partying of seven year olds.


I do occasionally enjoy the punch drunk feeling of thirty minutes in the Arizona sunshine. I miss Central Texas sunshine more, but Arizona does have a few good things. Anyway, the park is a good thing, and I secretly hope nobody ever finds it. Melbotis and I like it a lot. We hope to spend many more Saturdays there before people come in and ruin our public park. My goal now is to teach Mel to carry the ball all the way back to the car by himself.


No political commentary here, per se. Maybe next time. Anyway, I hope this is okay.

posted by Ryan at 8:18 PM

Greetings, mortals. This is my very, very first post to this blog. Jim Dedman is a weenie.
posted by Ryan at 10:29 AM

testing