Iron Man's Island

I know you're all dying to read my review of Iron Man, which I had intended to post Friday night/Saturday morning, right after the movie, but I suck, so I didn't. Well guess what? You get a bonus review of Nim's Island first! Aren't you lucky! Don't say I never gave you anything nice. Now, for those of you not interested in the heart-warming tale of little Nim and her self-titled island, feel free to skip past the review and head straight for my take on the face rocking that is Iron Man.

Nim's Island

For a movie that could be described as a three-way cross between Swiss Family Robinson, Home Alone, and Romancing the Stone, Nim's Island does pretty good. It is definitely a family movie, with the most threatening villain played by a bevy of fat cruise ship tourists and their hosts, but it had its moments.

Nim's Island is the story of how Nim (Abigail Breslin) and her scientist father, Jack (Gerard Butler), come to meet agoraphobic adventure novelist, Alexandra Rover (Jodie Foster). Early in Nim's life, her scientist mother was lost in an unfortunate scienty accident involving a blue whale. Searching the seven seas for their lost mother and wife, Nim and her father eventually settle on an uninhabited "secret" island in the South Pacific.

Naturally, life is idyllic in their tropical home. Nim has a host of animal friends to educate her
"Mr. Pelican, can you teach me the Galileo's principles of falling objects?"
"Caw!" [drops two differently-sized fish at the same time]
"Gee, thanks!"
Yes, this movie features intelligent, animatronic animals. This is not a selling point in my book, but thankfully the animatronic scenes are rare. Life like this continues until Nim's scientist father has to take a trip out into the ocean to do scienty stuff while Nim has to stay behind to help baby turtles (cue soft ooohing.)

Of course, this doesn't end well. It ends horribly, with Nim stranded on an island and her dad stranded in the middle of the ocean. Nim turns to the only person she can think of in her time of need, adventurer Alex Rover (played imaginarily by Gerard Butler, graduate of Eddie Murphy's school of acting,) conveniently reached by satellite email. Since the person behind Alex Rover is agoraphobic Alexandra Rover, mistaken identity hijinx ensue. After a not-so-helpful phone call to a New York 911 operator, agoraphobic Alexandra can't think of anything to do to help but brave the outside world and travel to Nim's island to help the little girl in distress.

The rest of the movie details Alexandra's attempts to make it to the island, which are by far, the most entertaining scenes of the movie. While Jodie Foster has never been at the top of my hot actress list, she really looked haggard in this movie. I think it was intentional, as near the end, she looked a bit better. Perhaps it was a statement on how the human condition improves when one focuses on the needs of others rather than one's own problems. Perhaps she just had a crappy makeup artist that got fired before the last few scenes were filmed. I don't know. These scenes treat us to the best in novelist-traveling-in-unfamiliar-locations moments since Romancing the Stone.

Also covered are Nim's too-cute attempts to keep her island secret from the aforementioned cruise ship tourists. It was no worse than I expected, but the Home Alone factor ceased to entertain after the first Macaulay Culkin feature.

I felt the worse for scientist father as he struggled to return home to Nim despite increasingly overwhelming odds. Every time he made progress, Mother Nature would deliver a soul-shattering backhand.

There's really nothing to say about the supporting cast, other than the cruise ship captain was fun to watch, if a bit of a caricature.

Nim's Island is not a bad movie. It's just not a good movie either. Chances are, if you have kids, they'll love it. It's good enough as little-kiddie fare goes. Having children that are very sensitive to scary imagery (they get nightmares from watching Monsters Inc,) I can sign off on this one as harmless as Pete's Dragon.

I give Nim's Island 22 out of 56 flying cgi lizards on a scale I just made up that doesn't mean anything.

Iron Man

Damn, this is a good movie.

Let me address the few minor complaints I have heard about this movie so far. First, the music. It's not horrible, no cheesy keyboards or anything like that, but it's not the thrilling fare you'd expect in a movie like this. Sadder still is the fact that its score was produced by legendary film soundscape creator, Hans Zimmer. Go ahead, click on his link. You'll see why I call him legendary. Those are some impressive credits.) I can't really defend the movie on this criticism. The music score should have been better.

The only other complaint I have heard is about the pacing. I really can't agree with this. Unlike other superhero movies (I'm looking at you, Hulk,) we see Iron Man kicking terrorist butt within the first half-hour. Act II doesn't feature many explosions, but we get important plot, character, and technology progression, without which, Act III would make no sense. Not only that, but most of the movie's laughs happen in Act II.

Gwyneth Paltrow as Virginia "Pepper" Potts, our lead character's major domo. While I have never found Paltrow stunning, I can't deny that she's attractive. I wouldn't have chosen her for the role of the ginger Potts, but her acting skills are undeniable. Her actions and reactions as the caretaker of the brilliantly eccentric Tony Stark are spot on, preventing me from thinking twice about Paltrow as Pepper. Although I did have a problem with her role as damsel in distress, or rather, as how she became such. More on that later.

The final complaint is my own. I understand that the creators wanted Pepper to be the one to take care of Tony's every need, but I missed his companion from the comics, Jarvis. Jarvis is to Tony Stark what Alfred is to Bruce Wayne. relegating him to a British-accented computer was a misstep, I think, but not a deal-breaker.

The superhero genre has been richly blessed in the past decade since Blade was released. We have seen amazing casting such as Patrick Stewart as Professor Xavier, Ian McKellen as Magneto, and J.K. Simmons as J. Jonah Jameson (born for the role.) Now we have Robert Downey Jr. I don't think there is another actor that could have nailed the role of Tony Stark, AKA Iron Man, as good as Downey. The fact that Tony Stark is an alcoholic @$$hole and Downey has had numerous scandals for substance abuse in the past few years may have a little to do with it, but I credit Downey's talent with his excellent depiction of the billionaire superhero.

Another great casting call is Jeff Bridges as Obidiah Stane. I don't think Bridges has had enough roles as a villain. I don't say this because he did a poor job at it. I say this because I would love to see him in that role again. He was cold as ice. One of the other villains, Raza, was played by Faran Tahir. Not bad. He definitely had enough malice to fill the shoes of the Mandarin, if that is who is destined to become in a sequel.

Terrence Howard played the part of Tony's military liaison and closest thing to best friend, James "Roady" Rhodes. As the straight man to Tony's eccentric, he does well. He doesn't shine, but he does well. If he is to take up the Iron Man mantle in the future like his comic book analog, I expect a better performance then. Rounding out the cast are Leslie Bibb as a reporter/mindless conquest, who will always conjure up images of the red-neck ex-wife of Ricky Bobby in my mind, and Jon Favreau in a bit of self-casting as Harold "Happy" Hogan, Tony's chauffeur.

As for Favreau's other duties in Iron Man, he directs a mean movie. For those not familiar with Iron Man from the comics, here's the story in a nutshell. Tony Stark is the brilliant progeny of a weapons manufacturer tycoon. He stays in the family business until he is near-fatally wounded by some shrapnel in a war zone. Captured, his fellow prisoner creates a device to prevent the shrapnel from entering his heart, giving Tony the idea to create a mechanized suit of armor to protect himself and escape. The armor is wildly successful and Tony goes on to create ever more advanced suits while fighting supercrime and moonlighting as a billionaire tycoon.

That's pretty much the story in both the comic and the movie. The movie, however, is much more exciting than that little paragraph implies. Not only do we get to see Iron Man school terrorists once, but twice. We also get to witness some of what made the Armor Wars storyline in the comics the greatest Iron Man story so far. The special effects on the suits were phenomenal. Depicting believable metal is perhaps one of CGI's greatest strengths. ILM worked that strength for all it was worth. I never once suffered a break in my suspension of disbelief. Of course, having one of Hollywood's greatest special effects houses work on your movie will get you that. Favreau does his part with the live characters to keep that going.

He faltered in one place, though. Having Pepper accompany the Strategic Homeland Intervention Espionage Logistics Division (Just call us SHIELD, har!) agents to arrest the villain made no practical sense. If we take a more meta-textual look at it, the move was an easy way to make her a damsel in distress. However, there must be dozens of different ways to achieve that effect.

No worries, though. The break in suspension is only momentary as the action draws you right back in. So we have Act I, character development and terrorist @$$kicking, Act II, character, plot, and technology, with frequent tasteful humor capped by terrorist @$$kicking, and Act III, culmination of Act I and II, the Armor Wars. Well done, Favreau, well done. Kudos also go to Stan "The Man" Lee, comics god and cameo actor extraordinaire.

I give Iron Man 94 out of 99 shellheads on a scale I just made up that doesn't mean anything.

Oh, and wait through the credits to see an awesome scene.

Welcome to May!

And now, here's a message from Despair Inc. for all you lolcat lovers out there.



This last Tuesday we went to Asahi (nee Kobe's,) a Japanese hibachi grill, to celebrate another birthday. Happy birthday, Paul! As usual, the cook was very entertaining. This one was actually better than others we've had. He had a few jokes, but it was funnier watching his reactions to the hibachi grill n00b we had with us. She was Paul's date and had apparently never eaten at a place like that before. After the first gout of flame from the cook's oil-covered grill, she scooted her chair back about three feet. She was sitting right in the middle where we forced her to sit after finding out she had never been before, of course. I don't think she trusted our cook with that much flame. The show went on with plenty of laughs until the cook was ready to make the main course. Naturally, he had to oil up the grill again. By this time, Paul's date had inched her way forward so she was only about a foot from the table again. FWOOSH! She was a good sport about it, but the look in her eye told the cook that if he knew what was good for him, he wouldn't light anything else on fire. Naturally, he did it anyway. This time it was just the onion volcano, so no one came to bodily harm, but the risk was there.

Perhaps, no, definitely more entertaining was Stacy's attempt at catching shrimp. The cook had set aside some shrimp to chop into tiny bits and toss into the diners' mouths near the end. Most everyone caught theirs after the first, second, or third try. Stacy, not so much. The cook actually ran out of shrimp bits to toss at Stacy as they rebounded off her chin, nose, forehead, pink hair, and even her teeth when she was laughing too hard to open her mouth. There was a collection of shrimp arrayed around her chair that would feed an Ethiopian family. Finally, after "recycling" the last of the bits that landed on the table, the cook made the shot and Stacy caught it. She nearly received a standing ovation.

It's comforting to know that even when we get out without the kids, we don't need them to fling food all over and make the cleaning staff earn their money.

Birthdays, Golf, Hair Dying, the Usual

It's been a busy week for me. Besides the fact that Stacy apparently hijacked my blog (don't save your login if Stacy is around.) I had quite a bit to do. This Thursday, we helped Kathleen celebrate her mumble mumble birthday at Clydes in Ashburn. I hope your mumble mumblenth year is a great one, Kathleen! Thursday was also the birthday of the son of a good family friend. Happy 2nd, Traven! His birthday was a bit low-key compared to Kathleen's. Although he probably had more fun sticking his hands into the cake than Kathleen did. Then again, she may have done that after we left. She was on her second cocktail by then. Maybe I shoulda hung out.

I took Friday off after being invited to a round of golf with some friends of mine from church. Although I remember going to the courses with my dad a couple of times, I've never swung anything bigger than a putt-putt putter in my life. I warned my partners of my extreme lack of experience and general lack of shape. Well, not so much lack of shape as lack of definition. It seems as time goes on, I grow a bit more blurry around the outside. I plan to eventually blur into a big, round, Scott-colored blob. Hah hah!

But I digress. After renting some clubs and a cart, my partner and I joined the other two in our party and we hit a few balls around. I was told that I don't swing like a girl. I swing like a nerd. I chose to take that as a compliment. After three or four holes, I felt I was actually getting the hang of it. A few good, solid contacts with the ball does wonders for your confidence. I found that my skills for expert green-reading do not extend past Mario Golf. As one of my partners said, I could scare the crap out of any hole without actually getting it in. I think I sunk four or five by the end of the 18 holes. I'd post a score, but with the amount of pickups I did, it really wouldn't be an accurate reflection of my performance.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself. There was talk of making us a semi-regular foursome, which is very appealing. I'd love to go again. There is a church-sponsored golf swing event at a local driving range this coming Thursday that I'll be attending. Maybe I can work on keeping my club head down instead of topping the ball and pretending the fairway is a big pool table. Now if I can just convince Stacy that I want a set of clubs for Father's Day.

Stacy and I got to go out Saturday night. Out was in, this time. Our church has been running adult dinner groups to help people to get to know fellow church members that they normally would only see a couple hours a week. We had a great time, especially discussing the unorthodox method of ridding yourself of caterpillars using half-empty cans of beer. No comment on how the cans of beer reach the half-empty state.

Stacy's newest hair dye had arrived earlier that day, hot pink this time. On a whim, we stopped by the drug store to pick up a bleaching kit on the way home. After driving the babysitter home and tucking the girls in bed, I set about playing at being a beautician. Stacy was very patient as I painted bleaching solution all over her head. After an hour and half, Stacy was thoroughly blonde. It was an odd thing to see. I have never seen her mid-dye like that before. I don't think blonde is a good color for her. You can be the judge further down in the post. After a quick rinse in the sink and a shampoo upstairs, Stacy was ready for the actual dye. Now that was fun. It's been a while since I've been able to indulge my artistic side. While saturating someone's head in hot pink dye isn't exactly painting, it felt something like it as I brushed the vibrant paste through her hair.

And let me tell you. Hot pink barely does the color any justice.

While it's not quite as impressive as in person, you can see the color in the slideshow. Stacy revealed today that her hair color is supposed to react to black light. I'm going to be digging mine out of the Halloween decorations tomorrow. If it's this trippy in normal light, I can hardly wait to see how surreal it is in the dark.

No "The Office" review this week. I got to the episode late and it's a bit untimely to review it now. It was a good one, though. I was glad to see that the little prick Ryan isn't having quite as great of a life as it had seemed before. I'll try to get in a good review next week.

Also, Ironman opens this Friday, so there's that too.

Now, the slideshow:

Mawwaaahha

I have taken over Scott's Blog. He left himself signed in. Now his evil crazy wife can write all the things about him you never knew.

He is afraid of the dark. (not really)
He hates the color purple. (not really)
He wishes he had a boy. (So not true he just wishes for more guns)
Hmm now I ran out of weird things to write about him. I love you dear

Tammy Would Like to Play

I just got an email from my sister about her new car. Congratulations, Tammy! It looks like a lot of fun. For those of you who don't know her, this car fits her personality to a T.

To a "T"? What does that even mean? How do you fit anything to a T, much less a personality? Where do these things come from? Why would I say that? Who do I think I am? Wait, who am I? Where am I? What's going on?

I'm scared.

Oh yeah, some pictures:

Goodbye, Dave, and Godspeed

Just thought I'd drop a quick note and take a moment to say good-bye to a beloved comic book blogger, Dave Campbell. Dave has ruled the roost at Dave's Long Box since March of 2005. That's a long time to have been a blogger, much less a comic blogger. I've been reading Dave's blog for almost as long as I've known about blogs. I wish him good fortune in his future efforts, blogging and otherwise. My hat off to you, Sir Dave.

See, even James Remar is sad to see Dave go.

Chair Model: A Return to Funny

Last night's episode of The Office was like coming home. We return to the comfortable environs of the Scranton branch and all of the lovable and somewhat hapless employees of Michael Scott. Wait, did I say employees? I meant match-makers. Bereft at the loss of his love life, Michael forces his people to set him up with eligible lady-friends or be fired. Hilarity ensues. No, really, it ensues like crazy.

Imagine, if you will, Pam setting up Michael with her sweet, unsuspecting landlady. Dwight pledging as God as his witness, to not only find a chair model that Michael is smitten with, but bring her back and force her to bear his seed. HIS SEED. Kevin giving the name of his hot and juicy redhead, Wendy (try your best figuring out who that really is.)

We also get a nice romantic bomb dropped on us from one of the subplots. Jam fans should be thrilled with that one.

Here are some great lines from this episode.

Creed (after talking about getting a second chair): Only one to go.

Michael (in sympathy to Kevin's fiance dumping him): You don't deserve her.

Michael (trying to drum up a date from Oscar): Hello Oscar Meyer weiner-lover.

Michael: What part of shorn't don't you understand, Kevin?

Stanley (on Michael's "love cards"): There's nobody I hate enough to write her name on this card.

Michael: I'm a man of intensity. Of...of...cool. And youth. And...and...passionately.

Andy: Did I do this for me? No. I did this for the little guy. The Joe sixpack. The guy who wakes up every morning in his $400 a month apartment and wonders how he's going to pay his mortgage that month, wonders how he's going to fill his car up with oil, wonders how am I gonna pay my kids orphanage bills? That guy shouldn't have to wonder where he's gonna park.

Obligatory Self-Congratulatory Dept

As I was walking out the door yesterday, my boss stopped me in the hall and called me back to my cube. There, he presented me with a Mysterious Box. What's in the box? A little touch of ego.

Spider-Man World Tour Concludes, For Now!

To finish off his whirlwind tour, Spider-Man takes us through an introspective look at what is undoubtedly his greatest appearance ever, the short-lived "The Amazing Spider-Man" from 1978. Here we see Spider-Man back in his native New York, settling down after his world tour to fight crime the old-fashioned way, with bulky metallic web spinners and shiny bulging eyes!


Bonus additional scenes from the Japanese leg of Spidey's tour!

The Office: Dinner Party (A Date with Disappointment?)

Sooooo, we finally got a new episode of The Office Thursday annnnnnnnd, it was kinda disappointing. I expected a lot more from the wizards behind The Office after such a long hiatus.

Quickie summary: Jan and Michael have a few people over for a dinner party. Jan and Michael have a creepy relationship. Jan and Michael make everyone feel really uncomfortable, including the audience. Everyone leaves and their relationships are revealed to be really crappy too, except for Jam who have the only purely amusing scene in the episode.

I think achieving uncomfortable humor successfully is a fine art. One at which The Office generally excels. The show usually hits more often and harder with the funny than a Ben Stiller movie. Perhaps in this one the creepy uncomfortableness was too far out or not far out enough. I just couldn't avoid feeling like one of the people at the dinner party, which would not have been fun at all.

Am I wrong? Was it a great episode? What do you think?

The Most Important Bill of All, A clean bill of health.

For those of you that didn't know, Stacy went into surgery today. It was voluntary and planned, so no worries there. She has had a history of bad sinus infections for as long as I've known her. Her ear/nose/throat doctor told her that they are in part caused by the small sinus opening in her left nostril. Today, she had it widened.

Stacy came through just fine. The doctor said that there were no problems and she was ready to walk, or wheel rather, out in about 45 minutes. She's resting as I write this, but in good health and spirits.

Spider-Man World Tour: Dasvidanya!

In a surprise move, Spider-man decided to appear as Peter Parker for the Russian leg of his world tour. Watch closely, an unmasked Eddie Brock makes an appearance towards the end.

Your Monthly Moment of Inspiration

Ever had one of those lifetimes?

Good News!

I'm really excited. I was going to post this later when things are finalized, but I don't think I can wait. I just got off the phone with Stacy so she knows first (I'd hate to have her learn from someone else that's read my blog.)

I got a huge promotion! It involves a bit of travel, but I think it's worth it. Besides, what's a couple of trips to Iceland when this much money is involved? Did I mention the money? Scads of it! We're going to have the biggest house in Saskatchewan! Oh yeah, we have to move to Saskatchewan. The commute will be pretty much the same anywhere we live out there, since I'll have the corporate helicopter to pick me up. The only thing I'm not looking forward to is the semi-quarterly meetings in Southern Mexico. I think somewhere in Mérida, Yucatán. I hear they've got really cheap medication for sale down there, so I can hook some people up while I'm at it.

We're so excited! We'll be flying to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan Friday for a house-hunting expedition (sled dogs and everything, it's going to be great!) Anyone want to watch Blue for us while we're gone?

Leave your congratulations in the comments!

Spider-Man World Tour: Hindi Style!

My apologies, my posts are going to be even more sporadic than usual in the coming weeks. How is that possible, you ask? Nobody likes a wise arse, is my answer.

I've started online college courses again. I'm hoping to be done with my bachelor's degree sometime this fall. We'll see.

In the meantime, we rejoin Spider-Man on his whirlwind international tour. Today's stop: India!

Spider-Man World Tour Layover in NYC

Spider-Man takes a brief rest from his World Tour to quench his thirst. Er, their thirst. He - er - they must really lika the juice.



And what's a bunch of Spider-Men without a Superman, princess, Dracula, dog, and two monkeys thrown into the mix?

It Comes As No Surprise to Anyone

Here's what you already knew.

TV Reviews

Yup, I don't like to toot my own horn, so I'll let some random site with no credibility do it for me!

Happy St. Patrick's Day (and other unrelated asides)

So yeah, happy drink-a-bunch-of-green-beer and puke magic on the sidewalk! Actually, I'm pretty sure almost everyone that reads this thing doesn't drink. We celebrated Shamrock Day and the first day of Spring by also celebrating a good friend's baptism at Sweetwater Tavern. That's right, Drunken Ribeye. If I'm not going to get drunk, why not get my dinner drunk? After a quick second trip to the grill, my steak was perfect. I still have yet to eat a more flavorful steak than theirs.

Congrats, Paul!

Completely Unrelated and Actually Longer than the Main Entry Dept.
Stacy and I have spent the last couple of days catching up on some of our recorded television shows, specifically, Pushing Daisies.

Let me give you a little background. Pushing Daisies was created by Brian Fuller, the same man that created Dead Like Me for Showtime. We loved that show. It was about a girl with no life to speak of that finds, upon flaming death by rocketing space toilet debris, that she is now a grim reaper. She meets other reapers, who treat this supernatural job like a, well, job. The high-concept is as quirky as it sounds, made even more quirky by the cast and situations throughout the series. It was a joy to watch and left us wanting more every week.

Unfortunately, Showtime only aired two seasons before giving Dead Like Me the scythe.

Mr. Fuller next graced us with an even shorter-lived series on Fox, this one called Wonderfalls. It featured a hapless girl in a dead-end job at a gift shop atop Niagra Falls avoiding the successes the rest of her family had made. A brief 'sode in the first episode revealed that she could talk to inanimate objects, or rather, inanimate objects could talk to her. They would do so at increasingly entertaining times, often pestering her until she did some seemingly random or counter-productive act that would always wind up for the betterment of her life or the lives of those around her.

Again, high concept was brought masterfully to fruition by Brian Fuller's talent and skill as the charmingly quirky show progressed. given that it was a great show with a fantasy theme aired on Fox could only mean one thing, of course. Cancellation. This time after a mere three episodes. We managed to see nine episodes aired (according to www.tv.com, I remember fewer) before the show was fully taken off the air. Mercifully, the DVD that came out early the next year contained all of the filmed episodes, 13 or 14 in all.

Now, ABC brings us Pushing Daisies. A high concept series if there ever was one. This time, our protagonist is a pie maker (played by Wonderfall's protagonist's on-screen brother) with the unique ability to bring any dead thing to life by merely touching it. However, if he touches it again, it will die again, this time forever. The other and more worrisome caveat is that if a thing is kept alive longer than a minute, then something (or someone) must die in its place. Nature loves balance, I suppose. The first part of his ability has led us to the best charming quirk of this quirk-filled show, his inability to share any intimate contact with his childhood and current sweetheart, whom he had to bring back to life in the first episode. This leads to many adorable, sometimes almost sickeningly, scenes as the two of them find new ways to express their affection. I say almost sickeningly because I'm a big softy and Fuller often manages to offset the schmaltz with appropriate reactions from the hardened knitting detective (the pie-maker's partner) and the love-lorn waitress (pining for the pie-maker *choke*!)

Now with the concept out of the way, how is the show itself? Just as good as I'd expect it to be, delivered with panache, style, and a vibrant dream-like color palette by Mr. Fuller. I found myself throughout the episodes exclaiming, "she's so darned cute!" of the pie-maker's sweetheart, or, "I love watching Emerson!" as the knitting detective tried to abrasively escape the conversations that cropped up around him, or, "I love Olive!" even though she's vying for an obviously smitten pie-maker's heart, or, "Swoozie Kurtz is hilarious!" as childhood sweetheart's grieving aunts, Vivian and Lilly, reminisced about synchronized mermaid swimming, or, "The narrator is perfect!"

That last one is perhaps the most personally jarring for me, since the show is narrated by Jim Dale, the voice behind the audio recordings of most of the Harry Potter books. It's personally jarring because I could not stand the way he narrated many of the characters in the books. I have no such problems here. He's got the cultured British accent and story-telling cadence that showcase the eccentricity, charm, and magic that is Pushing Daisies.

Pushing Daisies is a bittersweet joy to watch. A joy, for the obvious care that is given to craft an engaging fantasy that has yet to disappoint in its nine episodes thus far. Bittersweet, for the knowledge that it is just a snappy reality show pitch away from the chopping block. Pushing Daisies was granted a reprieve after the writer's strike this year. It is getting another chance to dazzle audiences come this Fall. I will certainly be one of those prepared to be dazzled.

If you're interested in keeping truly original programming on the air, especially when the alternative is another reality show, you may want to check out Pushing Daisies for yourself. There are five full episodes on ABC's site. I highly recommend them.

Oh, and if you have a Nielsen's box on your TV, please, please, please don't let this show get canceled. I haven't had nearly enough yet!

Full Episode (with considerably fewer commercials than when first aired!)

Spider-Man: World Tour

Next stop for our globe-hopping wall crawler? Japan!

New Family Portraits!

We finally got around to dragging the kids into the portrait studio this weekend for family portraits. It's been a while since our last set and we wanted to immortalize Stacy's grape hair. We have long learned that Scarlett is in her best mood in the morning, so we made a 10:00 at Kiddie Kandids.

Amazingly enough, our devious plan worked! All three of the girls were on their best behavior. I'm sure that the promise of ice cream if they took good pictures had nothing to do with it. The biggest problem was just getting all three of them to look at the camera and smile at the same time.

It turns out the right combination of a funky-colored duster and rubber ducky squeaks is the key. The unforeseen side affect of said funky-colored duster was Scarlett moving from sitting next to Stacy, to laying on her back, and finally standing in my arms behind Stacy to avoid the dastardly duster's tickling capabilities. Not two to quibble, Stacy and I were happy with the results.

We figured the next task would be much harder to accomplish: all three girls on their stomachs with their chins in their hands. I know what you're thinking, whose chins were in whose hands? We opted to go for the easy shot and had them hold their own. Lazy, I know. In this one, we just couldn't get Scarlett to look at the camera and smile in the same shot. Her long-suffering sisters (did I just say those two terms together?) were giving their best plastered smiles and I feared the entire facade would shatter before we could get a decent shot. Luckily, the photographer caught Scarlett in mid-babble in what approaches a smile in the way a gator approaches breakfast.

For the last three shots, we gave the girls their choices of backdrops and props for individual pictures. Vicki, being Vicki, chose the floweriest one, with flower petals on the ground and flowers in her lap. Yup, she's the tomboy. She even managed to edge in a little bit of a real smile amid the cheese this time.

Zoe, on the other hand, refused to smile when the photographer was anywhere near her camera. Don't get me wrong, she was all smiles the rest of the time, even giggling every now and then (I know many of you that have met Zoe probably think I'm lying, but it's true!) As soon as the photographer would step back from the shot, Zoe's face would approximate happiness in much the same way Kraft Velveeta Cheesefood Product approximates cheese. It's still a cute picture.

Scarlett, possibly the prickliest of the bunch, was uncharacteristically easy. She wanted the same white background with easter bunnies and easter eggs in a basket as props. The biggest problem there was getting her to settle on one or two eggs in her lap and leaving the rest in the basket and the bunnies on the floor. She was very helpful, trying to pick up the bunnies and give them to me, it just didn't make for a cute pose. We finally managed to convince her to leave the rest of the props where they were and sit still. Then came the challenge of getting her to lower the eggs from her chest where they were serving as a makeshift shield from the dreaded tickling duster. Our wily photographer snapped some quick shots in mid-raise and we hastily declared that was it.

All in all, Stacy and I feel that we made out ahead of the kids in that interaction for once. We treated them to frozen custard and us to good old Utah fry sauce at Neilsen's in Vienna.

I'll pop up a slideshow soon. For now, if you want to look at or buy some of the pictures for yourself (we're sending some to family members, so you guys might want to wait a bit first,) you can go here.

Update: Hah! That was quick! Here's yer slideshow thingie:

The Latvian's Strike! (Hail Doom!)

You may or may not know this about me, but I am a fan of 80's pop music. Not all of it. Some of it grates on my nerves as much as the next Jon, but there are quite a few hits that I dig.

Very few do I dig more than Europe's "Final Countdown." The pumping rock beat, the guitar riffs reaching climactic crescendos, the ear-drum-kicking solos, all of it. Well, almost all of it. The vocals are a little reedy and dated.

I also love symphony. Symphony with a beat is even better. The surprisingly aesthetically pleasing string quartet, Bond, is constantly in my playlist, as are other orchestral-based ear-rockers such as E.S. Posthumus and various movie scores.

What would happen if you put the two together, though?

Enter Latvia (Hail Doom!) the closest thing we'll ever get to Dr. Doom's homeland of Latveria. Rather, enter the Latvian Symphony Orchestra (Hail Doom!) and their own trio. This collection of mop-haired musicians manage to strum and bow their way through the most stirring rendition of "Final Countdown" I've ever heard. Don't believe me? Take a listen for yourself.



If you can watch that, complete with every stirring solo and riff lovingly reproduced in glorious symphonic sound and tell me it wasn't awesome, then you're either deaf, or have no soul, or both. I'm not going to rule that out.

Now if only I can find a symphonic recording of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing"

Thanks to bwe.tv for the drop!

I just Can't Wait for French Batman

This video is every bit of awesome that its name implies.
ITALIAN SPIDER-MAN!

They gave us Mario, it's only fair that we give them something in return.

March, Still Working on that Customer (dis)Service

March continues the theme started in February of sticking it to the customer.

The Smell of Poop, OR, Good Morning, Daddy!

Stacy had a women's conference this morning. She left early this morning to pick up a friend of ours, Karen, and meet some others before the conference. That means I was on daddy duty this morning. No big deal, the kids usually watch cartoons and munch on breakfast until I feel human and alive enough to drag myself out of bed. Yup, Father of the Year award, here I come!

So, this morning proceeds just like any other. I snooze, interrupted every fifteen minutes or two every time the girls see something noteworthy on TV. "Dad, can we get that movie?" or, "Daddy, can I have that toy?" or, "Dad, we have that!" or my favorite, "Daddy, look! Spongebob/Timmy/Hannah/Mickey/miscellaneous animated character did something!"

Even better? "Daddy, Scarlett got poop on the pillow!"

There's not many statements that will clear the fuzz from my mind faster than that one. I cleared the blurriness from my eyes to see Scarlett slouched between the foot board and the mattress with that, "I don't know what the big deal is" expression. Right next to her was the offending pillow. Believe you me, offending was the least of it. At least Scarlett was courteous enough to pull the pillowcase off first, because you know, it's much easier to clean a pillow than a pillowcase! I'll spare you the grisly details and just give you with this:

yup, a lot like this, only more brown.

I got Scarlett cleaned up in a jiffy. I'm still a little confused, though. She didn't leak out and she didn't have anything on her hands. I'm really not sure how she managed to
get it from her diaper to the pillow. That's right, my daughter is a poop magician. If only I could harness her power for good!

As I brought her back into the room to put her on the bed, I felt something wet at my feet.
Dreading what I'd find, I dragged my eyes down to the floor to see a puddle of apple juice that Blue was happily lapping up off the carpet. Both Zoe and Scarlett's juice boxes were lying on the floor, as crushed as wine grapes under the feet of burly Italian wine makers, only with less staining.

I finished cleaning that up and was just about to drop back into bed when I noticed a big wet spot on another one of my pillows. Sometimes I wonder how many times I'll be able to roll my eyes to the back of my head before they just give up and stay that way.

I performed the obligatory sniff test to figure out what the mystery fluid was. This one is going to go down through the ages as a mystery, though. It wasn't apple juice, it wasn't pee, it wasn't as scentless as water, but it also wasn't unpleasant. I don't know. I shrugged, dropped another pillow on top (no, not the poop pillow) and dropped Scarlett on top of that. I figured if any more random fluids leak out of her, it'd be on on a pillow that was already desecrated.

So yeah, that was my morning.

Here, for those of you completely uninterested in the travails of raising toddlers, but completely interested in badass robot fights, I give you something completely unrelated!



Sorry for the autoplay, It's built into the player.

Jumper: A Study in Physics

OK, this isn't really a study in imaginary physics, but my long-awaited return to the realm of online movie reviews. Why do I do it? Because all the other critics out there suck, that's why! Now lissen' up, I'mabouta lay some good quality reviewin' on yer eyes!

Jumper treats us to a fantasy that many of us have dwelt on at one time or another: teleportation. If you haven't dwelt upon it, then try dwelling now. Go ahead. I'll wait. I'm really patient that way. Think about it, the ability to go anywhere at any time. Hey, if you're in a knock-down, drag out fight with an old school rival, why not teleport him/her into a bank vault after hours? Not good enough, you say? You're in a fight to the death with a psychopathic zealot? A quick jaunt to the busy streets of London ought to do just the thing. See that double-decker bus heading your way? Why not take that along for the jump and see how your attacker deals with it? And yes, all of that is just as awesome as it sounds.

OK, OK, that's enough of the violent stuff. How about starting off your day with a sunrise in the Bahamas, breakfast in Paris, hot chocolate/coffee atop Mt. Everest, lunch in Budapest, dinner in Rome, and sunset in Iceland? Yeah, I know, the time frames are all screwed up, but you get the picture. Teleportation is a cool idea, one which had some great moments in X-Men United, but not nearly enough.

Which brings us back to Jumper. I was a bit wary of a movie featuring Hayden "I-killed-them-all-and-I-can't-stop-whining-about-it" Christensen of Episodes II and III fame. Thankfully, he did much better here as David. While his delivery could use more spirit, he was watchable. What do I need to say about Rachel Bilson, Millie besides hubba hubba hubba? (sorry mom) Unfortunately, she was not given the opportunity to show much strength as a victim caught in the crossfire of a secret war. Speaking of the war, leading the other side from the jumpers, the paladins, is our good friend Samuel Mutha F***in' Jackson as Roland (what kind of pansy name is Roland? Ask Samuel Mutha F***in' Jackson and you probably won't think that anymore.) When is it not a pleasure to watch him work? Even when he's on the other side, he's fun to watch. Jamie Bell, who was new to me (but not to fans of Peter Jackson's King Kong,) played a good foil to Christensen as fellow jumper, Griffin. Diane Lane rounds out the notable cast as David's mother, about which I will spill no beans.

Doug Liman, the director of a few of my other favorites including, Swingers, Bourne Identity, and Mr. and Mrs. Smith, takes us on a wild ride through David's discovery of his power, his later discovery by the paladins, his mix-up with the hapless Millie, his recruitment of Griffin and final showdown with Roland. All while globe-hopping more than James Bond in his last three movies combined. It is an exciting ride with some good breaks to keep the pace just right. The plot made sense, the dialog was good, the acting was fair, the cinematography was excellent.

What was missing was a little more exposition. Why are the paladins so set on eliminating jumpers? Is it a divine mission or did someone wake up centuries ago and say, "I feel like committing genocide today!" While Roland gives us a little bit of the divine zealot, "Only God should be able to be in all places at once!" We don't get much by way of history beyond tantalizing glimpses of clippings and drawings in Griffin's lair (yes, lair, that's what he called it.)

We also do not get much to make us sympathetic to David. Sure, his childhood wasn't great, but he more than made up for it with a lifestyle most people could only dream of, financed in super-villain style. We're even treated to a scene of him watching flood victims while the voice over intones, "It would take a miracle to get those people out of there." I'm pretty sure a dude teleporting onto a rooftop and zipping a couple of people out qualifies as a miracle.

I would like to have seen more of Bilson, (who wouldn't, eh? Eh? Nod's as good as a wink to a blind bat! Eh? Eh?) Her character served more as a damsel in distress than a strong-willed waitress from Detroit, but in the context of the damsel, she did just fine.

I couldn't help but feeling as we watched, especially towards the end, that this was meant to be the first in a series. Maybe even a movie-theater pilot for a television series later on. Perhaps that's why we were only favored with brief glimpses into what makes this world work. If so, then I'm afraid its rather dismal showing at the box office will keep us from getting any more.

Boy, now it sounds like I didn't like the movie at all! I did! Heck, any movie that refers to Marvel's Team Up not once, but multiple times, is going to get a fair shake from me. The problems I mentioned above are not deal breakers, especially not for an off-season sci-fi action movie. I had a great time suspending my disbelief and munching my popcorn as jumpers jumped, damsels distressed, and paladins-um-paladeded. I'll be picking this movie up for my home collection when it hits DVD.

I give Jumper six out of eight teleportation after-effect swirly thingies on a scale I just made up that doesn't mean anything. Now, for those of you that agree with me on the Bilson topic, here's a bonus.

Oddly Related Note Dept.
Firefox's built-in spell checker tells me teleport should be deportee. What would Bush do for a few jumpers to take care of the illegal alien situation?

Disappointment in a Nerdy Way

I feel a little bad for Jon. He's been eagerly anticipating the third installment of the new animated movies that DC Comics have been releasing, The Judas Contract, featuring the Teen Titans. I understand the sentiment. Not only were the Teen Titans one of Jon's favorite teams growing up, but that particular storyline was very good. DC announced the first three animated movies a couple of years ago. They were to be about the death of Superman, a Justice League movie based on an excellent graphic novel, and The Judas Contract.

They already released the Superman movie, Superman: Doomsday. I picked up my copy of the Justice League one, New Frontier, last night. Not having time to watch the whole thing, since we'd be watching Beowulf (also freshly minted on DVD,) I popped it in long enough to see the coming attractions. Imagine my surprise when I found that instead of The Judas Contract, the next DC animated feature would be Batman: Gotham Knights.

Disappointing, really. As cool as Batman is, he's had plenty of time to hog the animation lime light. He's even had at one animated movie play in the theaters, for Alfred's sake! So, finding out that the next animated movie would be a lead-in to the upcoming live action Batman film, while understandable, was a let down nonetheless.

I can only imagine how disappointed Jon is. That's not all, though. The sneak peak of Gotham Knights confirms what may be Jon's worst fear for the iconic super hero. He's going anime.

Yup, the DVD will feature six separate stories, all animated by different Japanese directors and art houses. That means not just one feature depicted in Jon's most loathed art style, but six!

I'm not averse to anime myself. I enjoy the medium. However, I can't say I'm looking forward to Bruce Wayne's foray into the dense, steamy jungles of Japanese animation. While Jon and I don't share a hatred for all things anime/manga, we do agree that its affect on mainstream American comics is lamentable. Manga, for those who don't know, consists of hyper-exaggerated expressions and movements as well as silly idiosyncrasies such as an abnormally huge drop of sweat on a character's brow when they're frustrated or kitten ears popping up on a character's head if they're being mischievous.

These affectations have their place, they just don't happen to be where Batman is trying to instill fear in the hearts of evil doers or when Superman is trying to stop a nuclear missile from exploding. I guess what I'm saying is that I believe in a segregation of styles. "You've got your manga in my comics!" "You've got your comics in my manga!" It just doesn't work as well as chocolate and peanut butter.

There was a trend recently when exactly that happened. It seemed to hit Marvel comics harder than DC, with manga artists drawing titles such as The Uncanny X-Men. It was Not Good. I think I understand why they did it. Just a glance at your local book store will reveal the densely populated manga section that probably dwarfs the graphic novel shelves. Kids like the manga. Marvel wanted to recapture that demographic. It didn't seem to work, since more traditional art has been gracing the pages of mainstream comics again. I sincerely doubt it will be the last time I see it there, though.

As for the anime stylings of DC, I'm not sure if I'll pick up Batman: Gotham Knights. It's possible that I'm wrong. Batman may lend himself perfectly to the anime genre. It's more probable that the whole thing will blow.

Why MMOs Suck, or Do They?

What's this? A Web Log? A place where I can write thoughts, rants, and commentary? Why, that's brilliant! Why didn't I think of doing this before? What's that? I did? I've been here before? This is my blog? No! Really? Well then, I suppose I should write about something!

This could possibly break my self-imposed fast on MMOs.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I played the grand daddy of MMORPGs, Everquest, for a few years. It wasn't the first, but it was certainly the biggest until World of Warcraft came along. I was out of that world long before then, though.

The appeal of MMORPGs is not hard to define. The idea of a persistent world in which players can develop an avatar, form relationships, and take part in the stories in that virtual space is more than enough to lure in many people. Each MMORPG has its own quirks and features that expound on those basic principles.

A few things soured me on the genre. The biggest one is the implicit requirement to play with others. It may come as a surprise to some people that don't know me, but I'm a loner by nature. Stacy keeps me in circulation so I don't lapse too far, thanks baby. Reaching a point in the game that required me to join a group of complete strangers just to play further only served to encourage me not to play.

"But Scott," I hear you say, "Didn't you have friends that you could play with?"

Yeah, those friends would invariably either play at different times or play to the point where our avatars were no longer able to group together. "Sorry, man. I'll hang out with you for a little while though! Wait, my guild is raiding a dragon's lair, gotta go! Have fun!"

Wheeeee!

"No," you say, "That's not what I was going to say. Why not take that as an opportunity to make new friends, blah, blah, blah?"

Maybe you didn't read the paragraph where I said I'm a loner by nature? I've got friends and family. I don't need any more, especially not the kind that are obsessed with an online game like Evercrackquest.

Knowing that there was content in the game I would never see without spending hours and hours doing repetitive actions was even more disappointing to my completist nature. The game got to the point where it was a chore to sign on and kill the same monster over and over until I was strong enough to repeat the process with the next monster. I play games to have fun. When the game is no longer fun, I put it down.

So I put down Everquest. I also decided that the whole MMO lifestyle was not for me. I have other demands on my time that preclude devoting the amount of time required to really explore such games. Give me something like Mario Galaxies where I can play a few levels and turn it off, confident in the fact that when I turn it back on, I'll be able to pick up where I left off and eventually complete the game.

Even better, give me a game like LEGO: Star Wars with replayability that keeps me coming back for more and more. I'm eagerly awaiting LEGO: Batman and LEGO: Indiana Jones. You can imagine why the following article has piqued my long-dormant curiosity in the MMO realm.

LEGO Universe

The idea that I can build anything I can think of in the game and then export it to real life LEGOs alone is enough to get me to try the game out. Even if the MMO part sucks rocks, I could totally get into that part. I just hope they don't withhold the good LEGO bricks for people that complete crazy multi-part quests that require teaming up with complete strangers and performing the same actions over and over again.

Cuz then LEGO Universe can go to ****.

Awesome Ad Deserves Awesome Post

I know lately I've just been a ad whore here, but being a Michael Bay fan and a fan of all things awesome, I feel I need to post this.



Once again, thanks for the drop goes to www.bwe.tv (I know they got it elsewhere, but seriously, if I tracked these things back to their source then I'd just be thanking the creators of the video, and who does that?)

Something to Look Forward To

I don't mean to overshadow the holiday or my sentiments about my wife (see post below,) but there are few words that can express my excitement for what the trailer on this site depicts. The music is still ringing in my ears.



If you can watch that trailer and not be excited, well then we have nothing more to discuss.

Good day.

I said good day!

Valentines Day

I opened my lunch to discover a sweet poem from my wife. Then I sit down to eat and find she's posted another note to me on her blog. I'd remiss (and an utter ass) if I didn't respond in kind. So, those of you that aren't my wife, please excuse me as I wax poetic.

How simple to be happy here in heaven!
After all, one doesn't want for much.
Passion finds its willing partner, ever
Pleased to please with a deft and tender touch.
Yearning is like walking through a valley
Veiled in the loveliness of flowers.
All the beauty of the earth can only
Lead us to the edge of what is ours.
Etched into our love there is a message,
Not of now but of all time and place,
Telling of a truth beyond the passage
In which we move from mystery to grace.
Nor are there signs that such content can be
Except my love for you, and yours for me.

-Nicholas Gordon

I love you, Stacy, now and forever.

Darth Jaffe Joffer, Ruler of Zamunda

This video had me in tears. Some of the dubs don't work too well, but there are some real gems in here.



Thanks for the drop, BWE!

So...Very...Cold

You know that feeling you get when you wake up on a winter morning? The one that makes you wonder if the heater is on at all? You can usually chalk that up to stepping out of your warm blankets and into the comforter-less air. Yeah, not this morning. This morning, with outside temperatures below freezing and my daughters huddled in their coats as we prepared to leave, my beautiful wife thought to check the thermostat. Even though it was set for 65, the temperature was much lower. A quick trip down to the basement revealed that the pilot light for the furnace was out.

Lovely.

I know lighting your own pilot light is dangerous, especially the longer it may have been out, but we decided to try it. There was absolutely no odor of gas around the furnace, even at the very base. I figured it was safe enough. Then, being the certifiable genius I am, (also, not seeing an obvious place to light a pilot,) I decided to read the sticker on the front plate.

WARNING: This furnace is not equipped with a pilot light. It has an electric ignition. DO NOT try to light the furnace manually.

Er, okay.

I took a quick peek at the breaker switches in the next room and noticed that the furnace's switch was tripped. I flipped it and air started pumping through the blower.

Figures.

Now, we just have to figure out why the furnace tripped its circuit breaker.

Unrelated Side Note Dept
Stacy has started a blog of her very own. I've linked it over in the side bar. Check it out!

February, It's all about the customer

Time for your monthly shot of enthusiasm, brought to you by my Despair Inc wall calendar.

Holy Crap!

Thanks to the Tycho from Penny Arcade for dropping this gem. If that kind of tech doesn't appeal to you, then you're probably more interested in the latest product from Blammo:

Back to the Drawing Boooaaa...zzzzzzzzzzzz

We thought we had finally done it. For three nights in a row last week, Stacy and I slept through the night for the first time since Zoe was born. Zoe is turning four this week. It was amazing.

Zoe didn't begin sleeping through the night until Scarlett was born. Scarlett had not slept through the night without either getting us out of bed to put her back to sleep or getting in our bed and poking at us while we tried to sleep.

One late night while sitting in the girls' room trying to coax her back to sleep, I noticed how noisy it was. Most of the noise came from the top bunk where Vicki sleeps. The rustling of covers and the mattress pad combined with her teeth grinding would be enough to keep anyone awake.

The next night we moved Scarlett's toddler bed into the toy room next door. That night, she slept all the way through. She'd done that before, but usually only when medicated or overly tired. We weren't ready to get down on our knees and praise the gods of slumber yet. Then she did it again. Then again. The following morning was Saturday and all three of our girls were in bed until after Stacy and I got up. I honestly can't remember that ever happening before.

But what the gods of slumber grant, the gods of slumber taketh away. Three nights ago Scarlett got up again. She seemed to be having nightmares. The next morning, Stacy got out of her that something on the wall was scaring her. She sleeps under my Pez collection. I suppose it can be scary to think of all those plastic smiling faces looming over you when you're two. That night as she was laying down, Stacy and I took all the Pez down while she pointed up at a spot near her bed saying something to the affect of "[S]He scared me." (She talks great, we just don't always understand her.) We assured her that the Pez wouldn't scare her again and headed off to bed.

No luck. She was up three or four times before we relented and let her sleep with us. Last night was the same. She pointed at the same spot of empty shelves and told us the same thing. She let us turn out the light and leave the room, but I could tell she was ill at ease. Sure enough, last night was as bad as the other two.

We're back to where we started, only more disappointed after that oh-so-brief window of real sleep last week. My next thought is to take down the shelves, but I don't know if the source of Scarlett's fears is something we can actually see on the wall.

Anyone else have a similar experience that would like to share some possible solutions?

Updated: Awesome+Awesome=Face Punch

I don't think awesome+awesome equals awesome doubled. I think awesome+awesome creates some kind of weird exponential loop until awesome ceases to be a mere concept and becomes a palpable thing. Then that palpable thing punches you directly in the face. Prepare to be punched by awesome.

Stacy sent me this, which brings together two pieces of awesome, bacon and Jim Gaffigan. Gaffigan is the guy you probably recognize from the Sierra Mist commercials. To me, he's one of the funniest comedians out there. You know bacon from such features as breakfast, BLTs, bacon-wrapped steak, and other popular engagements.

Anyone else hungry for some bacon now? Just me? Ok.

UPDATE! Gaffigan has released an official clip of his bacon bit from his Comedy Central special. This one shouldn't get taken down any time soon.

Fairly Awesome Late Christmas Present

My coworker Jennifer gave the whole team calendars from Despair Inc. I have to say, it ranks up there among the more awesome gifts I've received. I'll try to remember to give you all your monthly shot of reality when the calendar page flips over.

Bonus:
From the Demotivator page at Despair Inc.
MOTIVATION. Psychology tells us that motivation- true, lasting motivation- can only come from within. Common sense tells us it can't be manufactured or productized. So how is it that a multi-billion dollar industry thrives through the sale of motivational commodities and services? Because, in our world of instant gratification, people desperately want to believe that there are simple solutions to complex problems. And when desperation has disposable income, market opportunities abound.

AT DESPAIR, INC., we believe motivational products create unrealistic expectations, raising hopes only to dash them. That's why we created our soul-crushingly depressing Demotivators® designs, so you can skip the delusions that motivational products induce and head straight for the disappointments that follow!

E.L. Kersten, Ph.D.
Founder and COO

McDonalds, You've Done It Again!

Why is it that whenever I eat at McDonald's, no matter how good the food is (and it never is,) I always feel guilty and ashamed afterwards? It's like I've let someone down, someone who was counting on me not eating the pseudo-meat and preservative-rich slop-on-a-bun. Every time I eat there, I prove myself unworthy of that trust.

What's worse is the smell in the car afterward, like a miasma of shame lingering long after the foul deed is done. I've often come back to the car the next day with the odor hanging on, pointing a green smoky finger at me in accusation. It knows what I've done, oh yes, it knows. I'll not go into the aftertaste and the rank belches that inevitably follow such an indulgence. Can it even be called an indulgence?

And so, in my finest faux-Shakespearean accent:
E-vill, thou hast a name, and it is McDonald's. Get thee behind me, empty temptation! Return to the Stygian depths of the rainbow trousers that spawned thee! Take thine vile flavor and pallid complexion back to damnable arches from whence thou came and return no more to vex me! ::BUUURRRP!:: Ugh, that's nasty.

Table for Self Pity? Party of One?

Wow.

Last night sucked.

My two youngest have contracted the usual creeping crud that is so common this time of year. Poor Zoe has coughed so much she's hoarse (then again, she's young, so wouldn't that be poany?)

See that? That miserable attempt at humor? That is the result of three hours of interrupted sleep. You see, the family that shares together suffers together. Being the loving father that I am, I couldn't in good conscience let my children go through an illness without going through it myself. Last night I lay awake in bed, exhausted, but unable to sleep from the sinus pressure directly on my brain and the constant flow of post-nasal muck. You know how it is, no matter what you do, you can't get comfortable enough to sleep.

Sometime in the next two hours, I did manage to drift off. Naturally, that's when my beloved two-year-old decided she had enough sleep and it was time to torture mommy and daddy. Awoken from a very shallow sleep, it was another hour or so before I could manage to nod off again. Stacy got it even worse. Scarlett finally fell back asleep right on Stacy's shoulder. After suffering as long as she could, Stacy moved Scarlett off, which woke the little angel up, of course. It's all elbows in the face and pokes in the eyes after that, it doesn't matter how many cartoons you stick her in front of.

So, come the alarm in the morning, I hobbled out of bed like an old man, a cranky old man. I owe Stacy my apologies, I wasn't exactly a sympathetic ear to her perfectly valid complaints this morning. She's still got to take care of four sick kids and keep a household running. I just have to stay awake during a full day of meetings and find a sitting position that doesn't send excruciating pain shooting up and down my back.

Pain pills and caffeine are my friends today. Okay, I'm done whining. Anyone want a precocious two-year-old? No reasonable offer refused!

Happy New Year!

We had a great holiday spent with our family of friends. We're ready for a new year (especially the yearly bonus and tax refunds!) I hope all of you have a great new year. Enjoy 2008! (2008, really? What's next - 2009?)

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Holidays, or Bah Humbug, if you prefer!

To all of my family, friends, and random visitors, happy winter solstice celebration from me to you! I hope you have an excellent day filled with holiday cheer. I also hope that you will take some time during this season to reflect on some of the things that make the human race great, such as our capacity for hope, generosity, mercy, and love. Spread a little cheer this year, regardless of the difference between your reason for celebrating and the next person's.

Virgin Mary

I mentioned in my last post that the girls' performances were over. Both of them had parts in holiday shows, just of vastly different scale.

Zoe, my three-year-old, goes to a small, home-run (but still licensed!) preschool with only three or four other kids. It's been great for our most anti-social child of the bunch. Apparently, when we're not there, she's the most outgoing and happy girl around. She sings, she talks, she plays with the other kids. This is all stuff she does with her sisters at home and some of the neighborhood kids, but would not even think about doing if she saw someone new around.

We like to call her our turtle. When she's in a bad mood or near someone she doesn't feel that she knows well enough, she'll crawl into her metaphorical shell and stay there until the situation has changed. This can take the form of her putting on the Pout of All Pouts and lowering her head to dropping on the ground and curling up like she really has a turtle shell to hide under. It's very cute, but sometimes a bit much.

Her preschool put on a small (read: tiny) production of the Nativity. They gave Zoe the perfect part, Virgin Mary. Mary just sits there gazing lovingly at the baby Jesus. No big deal, right?

She was excited when we got there. She went right down to get into costume (a scarf over her head and shoulders) while the rest of us, Stacy's visiting family, and the other kids' parents and grandparents, took our seats in front of the little show area. Zoe's teacher brought her out and had her kneel in front of the basket that would serve as the manger.

As soon as she entered the room, we knew the turtle was with us.

She sat there, eyes downcast, lips pursed, mouth frowning, eyebrows knitted, everything as if cast in stone. It was the cutest thing (is it bad that I consider my daughter's extreme shyness adorable?) The best part was when the angel, one of her fellow students, tried to place the baby Jesus into Mary's arms. She didn't move a muscle. The angel gave up after a few seconds and just put the baby Jesus into Mary's lap, where he stayed, untouched, for the rest of the program.

Thankfully, the program was short. Afterwards, we all sang a couple of Christmas carols and then adjourned for some refreshments. Zoe was perfectly fine after the Nativity scene was over. She was laughing and playing with the other kids like nothing had happened. Just don't put her in front of an audience.

Her Highness is not amused.

Equally Funny Sibling Idiosyncrasy Dept.
Casey nabbed a shot of Scarlett at her most evil right after we put a sticker on her nose for a rousing rendition of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I'll see if I can get a photo up within the next couple of days of both of them.

Stink Eye Update:

Here is the shot Casey took of Scarlett while at the Nativity celebration:

Tell me that's not the greatest Pissed Off Toddler Face you've ever seen.

Houseguests No More, Wii-Related Injuries, and Mr. Monocle's Malicious Money Mongering Machine

Birthdays are over, kids have finished their performances, extended families have left for home, life is good.

It was a hectic week for Stacy and I. Having her family in town was fun, but stressful. Sleeping on the constantly-deflating air mattress in the cold basement wasn't pleasant, but I can handle something like that for three nights. We got in a few good games of Wii Sports Tennis, enough to show me how out of shape I am. Did you know there is a medical condition that has been nick-named Wii Elbow? Yeah, apparently it strikes those that play a lot of high impact Wii games and adolescent boys. Not sure where the correlation is between those two groups.

We celebrated Scarlett's second birthday with some friends at Chuck E Cheese the week before last. She had so much of a blast that we thought we'd take her back along with her uncle, Ryan, and his son, Mason, since both of their birthdays are pretty close to the same time. We have a house of mouse near us, but since we don't enjoy skee ball games with one ball or driving games that run in circles, we opted to go to the one about 45 minutes north.

It's a good thing we don't live near a casino, because the light chase machines at those places taunt me until I dominate them with my superior light-stopping skillz, coaxing out the sweet stream of tickets like a soothing cascade of spring water to a desert nomad. I can usually master the infernal machines with a relatively low investment of tokens, but this particular location has one branded with a certain top-hat-wearing, monocled, mustached debonair that brings a little extra Atlantic City charm with him. Instead of a single token with a single progressive jackpot of tickets, he has three levels of payout with which to taunt me.

"Just one quarter?" he seems to say, "You know that will only get you 50 tickets if you win and three measly ones if you get close. C'mon, it's not worth it unless you drop in three. Just think, 200 tickets, imagine what you can buy with that!"

(For the record, that'll get you one bag of cotton candy and a couple of party favors, seriously.)

Mr. Monocle is devious. I won the jackpot on our first visit with a relatively small investment. He knows how to draw me in. I cashed in an undisclosed amount of money (I ain't tellin'!) and approached my nemesis, confident in my superiority, safe in the knowledge that I had mastered it before and it would do my bidding. Why, with as many tokens as I had, I could afford to hit the three-token bonus and then the two-token jackpot!

Oh, it's an evil little thing, that machine. It sucked the tokens out of my little cup like a kid gulping down water during a midnight potty break. The most insidious part of its little token-stealing plot is the payout for missing the jackpot by one light: 12 tickets. That piles up pretty quick. I look down at my feet and see the big stack of tickets and figure that even though I haven't hit the jackpot yet, I'm doing pretty good.

Then I look down and see the bottom of my cup through the few remaining tokens. I look up at the machine with dawning realization. Do you know what that fella with the monocle was doing?

He was smiling.

Oho! You're an evil, squat, ticket taunting devil, light chasing machine! I ripped out my tickets from its stingy innards and walked away with what little dignity I had left. I parceled out the remaining tokens to my kids and nephews and sent my tickets through the counter.

With the stack I had accumulated that night and the ones we had left over from the week before, I had enough to get five jeweled bracelets for all of the girls there, two sticky spiders for the two older boys, and a weird floppy-spiked little pair of eyes for the helluvit.

Who's smiling now, Mr. Monocle?

Caveman, Me

Stacy's family is in town to celebrate a couple of birthdays and to see Vicki perform in the Nutcracker this weekend. We offered our house instead of making them rent a few rooms. I love Stacy's family. They're thoughtful and kind houseguests that do their best not to impose.

However, whenever we have houseguests I get this overwhelming urge to retreat into my cave. I don't know what it is, some sort of primordial instinct to protect my space? That might explain why I started talking in grunts and flinging household objects at them before dragging Stacy down to the basement by her hair.

Note to self: apologize for the waffle-iron imprint on my brother-in-law's face.

I'm not sure where the vague uneasiness comes from, but I am sure that it is closely related to my innate shyness. I remarked to my mother-in-law about Zoe inheriting my shyness, to which she reacted in surprise. She didn't think I was shy, but very social. That's only true if the other party initiates, really. I will carry on a friendly conversation with just about anyone, as long as they're the one that started it.

Some of my friends may realize that even though I keep a constant online presence throughout my work week, I rarely IM them. It's not because I'm being aloof or too busy (although that happens a lot) but because I'm not an initiator. It's nothing conscious, I'm just solitary by nature.

I suppose I could force some self development by acting contrary to my personality, but I think I'd rather retreat back into my cave.

Ooo ooo oook!

It's Bound to be High in Fiber

Stacy: I've got tons to do tonight, but dinner is in the crochet pot at least.
Me: You crocheted dinner? That's impressive. Macramé and cheese?

Hah! I crack myself up.

Polar Bears, Sam Elliott's Mustache, and Daemons

It may come as no surprise to the readers of this blog that I enjoy the fantasy jonreh. Many aspects of fantasy stories appeal to me on a subconscious level that I cannot truly explain.

Case in point, dress a couple of polar bears in plate armor and pit them against each other in a death match in the frozen north for supremacy over the polar bear kingdom and you've got my attention. The only way to make the previous sentence more awesome would be to - no, scratch that, you can't make it more awesome. If you don't understand the inherent coolness in the concept, then brother, we will never see eye to eye.

In case you haven't guessed it yet, I'm talking about The Golden Compass, of which the polar bear fight scene was only a small portion and quite possibly could have been cut out from the movie entirely(!) without harming the overall story. Thankfully, director/screenplay writer Chris Weitz understands that talking, fighting polar bears in armor is teh awesome.

Jon and I caught the movie Friday. Stacy decided not to go, despite how appealing the movie is to her Lord of the Rings/Narnia/Potter fondness and its obvious links to the other works. Her reasons had to do with the controversy around the original author, Philip Pullman, and the purpose behind the trilogy of books. I'm not going to get into the controversy here. For one thing, I haven't researched it enough to give an opinion one way for another. For another thing, there was nothing in the movie that struck me as particularly blasphemous or controversial. At least, nothing more controversial than LoTR/Narnia/Potter.

Jon gave a review of the movie that echoes many of my sentiments. I will say that cgi animals have come a long way in the last few years. Even though I know they are cgi, there really isn't much to indicate that they are. Unless you consider animals that talk and shape shift unrealistic, but hey, let's not talk crazy here. I understand some stars lent their voices to the animal cast, but the only one that registered on my voice-o-meter was Ian McKellen as one of the fore-mentioned polar bears. His already impressive voice was augmented with extra bass and tone to give it the feel of emanating from the throat of the massive Iorek Byrnison, Prince of the Polar Bears.

It struck both Jon and I as funny that this movie featured a cast that had in many cases worked with each other already. For instance, Ian's nemesis from LoTR, Christopher Lee, made an appearance, albeit brief. The rugged Daniel Craig, although sharing no scenes with her, acted with Eva Green in Casino Royale. Craig also starred in The Invasion with Nicole Kidman. These people can't get enough of each other!

Speaking of current actors in past movies, there was one scene in the movie that triggered strong memories from Fellowship of the Ring as the main character, Lyra, and Iorek approach a natural bridge spanning a bottomless chasm. I couldn't help but think of Gandalf and the fellowship fleeing the Balrog in Moria. As soon as Lyra began to cross, the bridge started to crumble. I leaned over to Jon and said, "Fly, you fools!" I was disappointed when Iorek didn't try to make the journey across. Too easy? Yeah, I guess.

I have a short list of actors that I feel can make any movie watchable, such as Christopher Walken. Among them is Sam Elliott. The man with the mustache could out-cowboy Eastwood or Wayne. I relished every scene of him rambling on like he's sitting around a fire with a bunch of ranch hands instead of flying a balloon in Europe with a talking polar bear and a little girl as passengers.

There was one other actor I'd like to mention. Jim Carter, king of the Gyptians. He was tall, wore eye makeup, and had a formidable beard, yet in no way resembled Alan Moore. The maddening thing about him was how familiar he looked. I sat through all of his scenes wracking my brain to come up with the name. Unfortunately, it seems my brain has been over-wracked. After looking him up on imdb, I found that I had no idea who he was. Even more maddening is that means he reminds me of another actor that I am still can't find.

Damn this brain full of useless trivia that can't even order itself so I can remember a single bit of useless trivia!

The movie itself follows the adventure of a young girl named Lyra and her daemon Pants. Wait, I mean Lyra and her daemon Pantalaimon. In the world Weitz wrote, every human has an animal companion in the form of a daemon, a reflection of that person's soul. Thus we know almost immediately (as if seeing the Her Icyness wasn't enough) that Kidman's Mrs. Coulter is evil just by watching how her golden monkey abuses Pant (In The Golden Compass, you don't pet the monkey, the monkey pets you!) Naturally, Craig's Lord Asriel is noble and strong, just look at his iridescent tiger! While you may think that Elliott's Lee Scoresby would have a fine lookin' thoroughbred, you'd be wrong. Perhaps even more fitting, he travels with a wry female jack rabbit. The titular golden compass is actually an alethiometer, a device few can use but that has the ability to show the past, present, and future.

Is Mrs. Coulter after the alethiometer or Lyra herself? Does Lord Asriel kick as much ass as Bond, James Bond? Does Lyra make Iorek her pet or does Iorek get peckish and have a midnight snack? I ain't tellin'! I try to keep my reviews relatively spoiler free, thenkyewverrymuch. If you can duck the verbal crossfire from the pundits about the metatextual meaning of Weitz's work, check it out and get the answers to these questions and more!

Anyway, I've rambled long enough. The movie was entertaining, with the bear fight edging it towards awesome. It did enough to make me curious about how it ends. We'll see if the controversy surrounding the subject matter prevents me from seeing it to its finish. However, the ending of The Golden Compass was anything but. It is obvious that the studio plans to make at least one sequel. Instead of resolution, we have continued journeys, much like the end of Fellowship of the Ring.

I give The Golden Compass eight out of ten dislocated jaws on a chart I just made up that doesn't mean anything.