Twelve Monkeys

I found out about Twelve Monkeys on the Notorious B.I.G. Foolblog. I assume this is the 4th of 12 monkeys. You go to this blog (Blork) and see what the monthly monkey topic is. Then scroll through the comments and see links to other people who answered the same topic. Here we all sit, not interacting with anyone, yet somehow uniting on a common blog topic.

So I am getting on board four months into the 12 Monkey game. It's self-indulgent, but it's interesting to see people's answers to the topic of the month.

This month's topic: Movies you've cried at. For me, it's a short list, and Emily can name them all. But here goes (in chronological order):

1. Lassie I was nine and they were tears of joy.

2. Mask I was probably 12. Kind of a fluke, crying at this one. I've certainly seen more emotional and more powerful movies than this one. But in the final scene before Mr. Mask died, I saw he had all the 1955 Dodgers baseball cards on his wall and that struck a chord with me. I got a small tear (okay a big one) in my eye.

Coincidentally, we were watching the film on VCR with Matt the Hatt's family. I am pretty sure his little brother realized I was fighting off tears. The crafty bastard kept on staring at me, seeing if there was indeed a tear in my eye. I was embarassed. All because of the damn '55 Dodgers basball card collection, as I too was big into collecting cards.

3. Emily claims I confessed to crying at Life Is Beautiful. I don't remember this specifically, but whenever I think of that final scene I find it hard to believe I didn't cry.

4. Some foreign Swedish film Emily and I went to. I don't recall the title, but I openly wept for half an hour.

Maybe this was a breakthrough, and I should go back and watch Beaches, E.T, and cripes I don't know, freaking Marvin's Room and see if, now that the floodgates finally opened, that there's a whole slew of movies I'm ready to cry over.

In college I had this English professor who was as polished as he was arrogant. For example, he had this whole bit that I heard him use in three separate classes. The bit was about how stories are never sad, happy, inspiring, or anything liek that. They were just words on a paper to him. He said never got emotional from a story because he didn't bring baggage to the table. I would guess this is a cynic's (or emotionally repressed man's) take on reader response theory, but I digress.

Anyway, he died of cancer a few years back. It was so sad. And to this day I think of his "stories are just words on a paper" lecture/rant, and wonder if in his heart of hearts he believed that in his final months of life. If he did, he is a stronger man than I am.

Inspired By Rachel

A new list is up on my side blog, "Top Five Annoying Sayings." It may seem like a re-run to anyone who follows the blog closely (that would be me and me alone), but it's a little different that the "Annoying Things People Do When Talking." See for yourself by clicking here.

Emily informed me months ago that Rachel is compiling (or has compiled) a list of things that are never appropriate to say. Allegedly this list includes things like, "You look tired." and "I heard you failed." I'm calling you out, Rachel. It's time to make that list public. Unless you've gone duck hunting with Anton Scalia and he'll allow you to keep the list private.

Spurs Rule

Haven't been posting much. My dad was in town for the weekend. He just finished up a two year stint in Turkey and is now headed to Alaska for, I would guess, another two years. In the meantime, a good time was had by all over the weekend.

But now I should be back to posting more regularly, if anyone gives half an ounce of ape shit.

One thing that this weekend proved, if anything, is that THE SPURS STILL RULE!!!.

Bring on the LA Fakers.

Meet George Jetson

Or at least feel like you're on the set of The Minority Report. Things are getting even nuttier in the Minnesota House. The transportation wave of the future: Personal Rapid Transit (PRT). Enough pork in it to win the support of the big-business Republicans, and crunchy enough to interest the Green party. Politics makes strange bedfellows.



Image from http://www.menziesera.com/menziesera/index.htm


Click here for a story about how PRT made its way into the Minnesota House. Or, click here and here to learn more about PRT in general.



Image from http://www.skywebexpress.com/>


I haven't made up my mind yet about PRT. It seems like a great alternative to highways and cars. But logistically it seems impossible to put into practice. Also I am torn between using money to pursue this and using it fund lightrail and the bus, two services we already have and are underfunded.

And even more perplexing is why are the House Republicans backing this? My only guess is some fat cat CEO has his finger in the PRT pie and is driving this legislation. Either that, or Republicans are philisophically drawn to the free will and choice that PRT offers, as opposed to those commie busses and lightrail cars that impose choice on citizens by stopping only at scheduled intersections.

Happy Shitty Anniversary

Hard to believe that Columbine happened five years ago. That was an awful day.

I remember watching the coverage from the group home that I was working in at the time. One of the residents was watching the coverage with me. She had about 20 functional words, due a massive stroke twenty years ago, but it was somehow nice to have at least one person to watch it with.

A lot of other shitty things have happened over the past five years, making the staying power of that day even more impressive (for lack of a better word--maybe profound is more appropriate). I imagine we can all remember exactly where we were when we learned we beat the Russians in hockey, both space shuttles blew up, 9/11, and now Columbine. I don't know of any other infamous event that every person of my generation can instantly recall.

It's interesting how 9/11 has swept this story under the rug. Until then, it seems like six to ten times a years, there were similar school shootings on a smaller scale. Last year there was a school shooting in Minnesota, but that is the only post-9/11 school shooting I know of.

What happened? Did these shootings never make headlines anymore, or did school shootings suddenly subside? I truly don't know the answer to this question.

Wagging the Rabid Dog

Or maybe just a dog that's brushing its teeth, and it only looks rabid. Let me explain.

Tonight I went to the local Walgreen's to buy some toothpaste and gumdrops. The ying and the yang of this purchase is not lost on me, but that is not the purpose of this post. What was more interesting to me was how the toothpaste species have evolved over the past 24 months.

Emily is usually the one who goes to Walgreen's for things like toilet paper and saline solution, while I do most of the shopping at the co-op. At the co-op the only toothpaste available is shit like "Crunchy Jane's Homemade Organic Toothpaste--Made with 100% Organic Sand!" No thanks.

So don't be taken aback when I say I haven't purchased toothpaste in over a year; Emily has that covered for me.

But I was taken aback by the fact that the "Sensitive Teeth" genre of toothpaste is gone. What the fuck? Each major brand had its own "Sensitive Teeth" toothpaste formula. Now they've gone the way of the Spice Girls, Hansen, and The Baja Men.

And now Crest has five, I am not exagerating here, FIVE different types of "teeth whitening" toothpastes. They also had a toothpaste that fought tartar and one devoted to preventing cavities. No shit? Toothpaste that prevents cavities. Who knew?

Five years ago Sensitive Teeth toothpaste was all the rage in toothpaste technology. And I really felt my teeth hurt less when I drank/ate cold things once I began bushing with this toothpaste. Who knows, maybe it was a placebo effect. But the fact is they marketed this toothpaste for all the millions of people with sensitive teeth. We would never have to cringe when drinking ice water again! And now it's gone. As if all of us millions of people suddenly don't care about our sensitive teeth as long as they are bleached and match the porcelain in our sink.

I know the sensitive tooth bit was an adverstising gimmick, but I liked that damn toothpaste!

And now for my main point. It may seem a little odd for me to go and on about toothpaste and how it's marketed, but it seems even odder to me, and a little creepy, that there are marketing firms out there wagging the toothpaste dog. A couple years ago, I am sure they realized the "sensitive teeth" toothpaste bit had run its course, and they needed something to juice up the toothpaste game. Then along came the whole tooth whitening fad and boom, there was the new pot of gold they were looking for.

I mean seriously, one brand of toothpaste with FIVE different types of tooth whitening toothpaste formulas? It's as absurd as a guy writing about toothpaste for ten minutes.

Max's Theorem

This weekend I bought "Live in Aught-Three," a live album from several of James McMurtry's shows. Now I am not the Texas music-scholar that my brother-in-law is. But I do think he'd agree with me that James McMurtry is one of the best songwriters Texas has produced, and that's a pretty bold statement.

So I bought the album and was listening to it, wondering if it was worth the $12 I spent, since all but one of the songs are already on his studio albums.

But then I heard the following soundbite off a track called "Max's Theorem," and I suddenly felt I got my money's worth:

Max told me that a good old boy can become an intellectual, but an intellectual cannot become a good old boy. I believe that to be true.

So why is it that the son of a couple of blue-blooded erudite Connecticut yankees gets to stand behind the Presidential podium and talk about nuc-you-lar weapons?

I mean Jeb Bush doesn't say nuc-you-lar. You know good and damn well Barbara doesn't say nuc-you-lar.

James McMurtry is the man. And this is what he is not: a pre-packaged, focus-group driven image. Too bad we can't say the same about our pop stars or, more pertinently, Presidents.

Ozzy Osborne's Panties

At the time of the writing of this post, the ads on my blog are for "Your Favorite Panties" and "Ozzy Osborne Sunglasses." Weird. Not as weird as the Bob Dylan Victoria's Secret ad, but still weird.

In fact about the only thing weirder than Bob Dylan doing a Victoria's Secret commercial, would be Ozzy doing a Victoria's Secret commercial...

in his wife's underwear...

signing "Bark At The Moon"...

in front of the Alamo...

while peeing.

SUVs

I don't like them.

If you don't either and want a constructive solution to fight the nastiness that is the Hummer and Expidition, Click here, surf the site (it's a good one), and take action.

And thanks to Emily for sending the link to me.

I also added the aforementioned SUV Solutions link to the links on the left.

Goooooooooooooool!!!!!!

That's Spanish for "Goooooooooooooooal!!"

A British soccer player (I mean football player) set the world's record for fastest goal ever scored, by scoring two seconds into the game.

Try scoring that fast on your prom night (insert laff-track here).

Click here to read the story.

Or click on the comment box below to insert your own lame joke into this blog.

As an aside, in the world of track and field, this record would not stand, as his goal was clearly wind-aided.

Are You Shitting Me?

Am I mistaken, or is that REALLY Bob Dylan in a Victoria's Secret commercial? It's surreal enough to see a bunch of supermodels wearing nothing but push-up bras, thongs, and freaking WINGS, but it's even weirder to then show Bob Dylan singing "Love Sick."

Cripes.

Does anyone else remember the band "Too Much Joy" from the 90s? I have no idea if they are still around. They were fun to listen to and had a few decent songs and some great lyrics ("Some of this is true/ Some of this is better!") when they weren't trying too hard to be clever. Like their ode to the drummer of Gang of Four, titled "Hugo." The lyrics I have in mind go a little like this:

"Another hero has failed me.
He's a guest VJ on MTV...
Jack's in his corset,
Janie's in her vest.
Lou's hawking scooters and American Express."

And now they can ad two more lines:
"And Bob's selling panties and
skimpy items for women's chests."