Lazy at the Speed of Light

Oktoberfest Season

2009-09-18T05:11:00.000-07:00

This entry isn't going to be a rant. It's not going to be critical, sad, or smart-alecky. No, it's going to be appreciative. Appreciative that God allowed the people of the earth to create their own cultures, their own versions of sustenance, and festivals to celebrate just how awesome that is.

In this particular entry, I'm appreciative of the part of German culture and heritage that created the Oktoberfest. German governments haven't exactly set the best standard for the world. Whether it's the landlust of the Hohenzollerns or bloodlust of the Nazis, they're not exactly making a good name for themselves. As for the people, though, I suppose they're doing okay. When I think of German culture outside of the unpleasant parts, I think of the tiny cottages nestled in the Bavarian Alps. Kind of like the picture you see above. Cobblestone roads, fresh flowers hanging from eaves and awnings, the echoes of accordions from a bierhaus down the street. (There's a cottage-town nestled in the Cascaes of Washington state called Leavenworth that brings all that to the US. Great place. Not much to do, but it was fun. We went there on vacation once.)

There's just something to all that that makes it very comfortable. You feel right at home in that kind of environment. Maybe it's the German blood in me. Maybe it's because Mom fixed German a lot for dinner growing up. Whatever the reasoning, I just feel very relaxed and content after a fine German meal at home or out at a restaurant. No other type of food or restaurant generates that kind of after-dinner warmth quite like that. After Cracker Barrel, you're content, but ready to move onto some other activity. After Olive Garden, you're the same way. But after German, you just want to kick back and really let the ecstasy of the meal set in and savor the last few drops of bier in the stein. Ein herzhafte Mahlzeit (a hearty meal).

So with that level of respect and admiration for the experience of German cuisine, I excite myself over the prospect of Oktoberfest. A festival devoted to this unique culture and taste of the world can't be all that bad. Hopefully, I actually make it this year. Viel Glück!

God of Grace

2009-08-19T07:25:00.000-07:00

With the wedding coming up and getting down to the wire (59 days), it's starting to become apparent what's still left to do. We still need to officially reserve the church. Penciled in, but we just have to turn the form in. Plus, not exactly sure what the groomsmen will wear. Or me for that matter! Want to do a tweed jacket and stuff, but that might not happen. If it does, Goodwill's going to be to thank for it. Of course this is without trying to find a way to scientifically make money materialize from well...nothing! We don't really know what's going to happen with a honeymoon. Chicago was the plan for a long time, but bad financial planning has put that in jeopardy. So now it's maybe a tossup between Gatlinburg, Chicago, or staying at home.

Let's juxtapose this scenario against what's happening in my spiritual life. A couple weeks ago, a friend posted an article from an arts pastor who was about to leave a church in Austin, TX and head to another church in North Carolina or something. This article describes how humans create art because it illustrates grace. Here's the gist:

God got fancy with the earth and created more than just enough to get by.
For example: instead of having just one kind of fruit, we have a variety of fruits to choose from that all have a range of flavors. Not to mention God created a system in our bodies so those flavors could be enjoyed.
Q: Why are flavors necessary, when most fruits do the job of sustaining us? A: They're not necessary, because that's all part of grace. While we need grace to not only live, but live like God intended, part of that gift is that we're given more than we need.

Which leads us to last week. One morning in the shower, barely awake, I prayed that God would intervene whenever I felt like I was going to say something about someone that was going to be hateful and/or ignorant. I'm bad about that. (Especially when I'm driving.) It's getting old, it's not helping anything, so I want to quit and have more productive, loving thoughts about people. Then after that prayer, I said another one, asking God to let me see His grace in action. I understood about the passive grace going on with fruits and nuts and how good they taste, but I wanted to see grace take an active role in my life.

So here's what went down. A week prior to this, our friend, who was going to photograph the wedding, told us that they had a family commitment that they couldn't postpone and wouldn't be able to make the wedding. They were going to do the wedding for free, as a wedding gift. So that meant now we'd have to pay someone to do our pictures. The cheapest offer we got was $250. That we didn't have. Eventually, Heather and I decided that we would just try and get my dad to take pictures from the pew during the ceremony and then he'd get pictures at the reception. Wouldn't be nice, fun ones...but it'd be better than nothing and better than paying for something we couldn't afford. Fast-forward to the day when I prayed for grace: we get an email from our friend, saying they got the dates mixed up and would be at our wedding with bells on!

That, friends, is God's grace. We didn't need a bona fide wedding photographer; we had my dad. I asked for grace, though, and I got it. When I asked for it, I thought God might let me find a quarter on the sidewalk or someone would give me some food they hadn't eaten. He surprised me with the photographer thing. I'd left it wide open for Him to do something cool. Wouldn't have even suspected that's what He would've come up with.

After all this, I'm no longer afraid to ask for excess like I used to be. For the longest time, it felt like if you were a Christian, you learned to live an ascetic life of minimalism and denying yourself. You learn to live on bread and water and use rocks for pillows. Not at all. I'm not advocating a pray to gain gospel here. I'm just saying that grace is more than a generic, bland word that's tossed around so freely in Christianity. There's a specific defintion and function to it. It's having God's favor and access to whatever we need and don't need in the physical, spiritual, and relational realms. I'm not going to pray for a brand new Lexus, but I'm going to pray for a nice honeymoon in Chicago. We don't need it. We could settle for a week without work at the apartment. But God has the resources to spare for a nice honeymoon in Chicago and all I need to do is ask.

The Last of a Kind

2009-07-06T18:05:00.000-07:00

Something that's always interested me was just knowing who I was related to and where I came from. Why do I act the way I do and do I share any weird quirks with my ancestors? More importantly, I keep wondering if I'm actually honoring their memory with my life. I know my parents say they're proud of me for graduating college and holding down a job, but all that stuff's been handed to me. It might as well have come naturally. Maybe I figure if I find out my heritage, I'll be inspired to do something great or be more than I am now.

This weekend, I found out that I'm probably the last Ball to carry on the bloodline. Technically, the Ball name could still go on because my dad's cousin has an adopted son, but I'm the only one with the genes. But really, why is it so important? Nobody ever worries about being the last of a line. It's so medieval, you could say. Somebody better warn Heather to bear me male heirs or else!

What's strange is that of all the families that I'm descended from, the Ball family is the one I know least about. Aside from the Balls, there's the Kings (dad's mother's dad's family), the Hattabaughs (dad's mother's mother's family), the Qualls (mom's mother's father's family), the Wilsons (mom's mother's mother's family), the Mobleys (mom's father's family). Okay, maybe Pa's family is a little sketchy. But that's so weird. I know so little about my grandfathers' families and where they came from. I know that Pa's (mom's dad) father was killed when he was 9. Then Pop's (dad's dad) dad was Hobart Ball Sr. (Pop being Hobart Ball Jr.). I know that Hobe Sr was a farmer and Pop worked as a Western Auto manager for most of his life. Pop used to drink and smoke a bit, took awesome care of Nana after she got sick, loved fishing and hunting, was an awesome cook, served in Korea as a gunner on a B-26, and was the only family member I knew who'd actually cuss when they got mad. Oh! And he looked and sounded kind of like John Wayne. To me, Pop was the epitomy of being a man. I didn't see him as much as I did Pa, but Pop was a man's man. He never cried, he only got flustered. Pop was everything a man and grandpa should be. That's what the Ball name means to me.

On the other hand, Pa was also everything a man and a grandpa should be. Except he was a lot gentler. He cried and he wasn't afraid to show his emotions. He told me he loved me. One thing I remember about him was one time he felt bad about yelling at me for something. A few minutes later, he came up to me, with a tear in his eye, and apologized. Pa wasn't the smartest man around--I think he only had a 6th grade education--but he worked hard all his life and, despite a brief period of infidelity, really loved Grannie a lot. He also taught me how to fish and garden (like I remember it now!) and just how to be a good, caring person. Together he and Pop provided me with a sense of what it really means to be a man. They've both been dead for over ten years and I was still a kid when they died. I've had to try really hard to pick my brain, trying to figure out what they taught me about life. Are they passing on anything I need to carry on?

It's still strange to think that I'm the last Ball for right now, although it doesn't feel fair either. My cousin, even though he was born Korean, is still a Ball, even though he's adopted. In my mind, I want to take on the mantle of being that unique, last Ball and being able to pass that onto any sons I might have. On the other, I really shouldn't knock adopted kids, because I'm adopted into God's family through Christ and that's really where I get my life. None of what Pa or Pop taught me or passed down to me through genetics or wisdom matter as much as what I'm given by my Heavenly Father. And at the same time, I could consider Pa and Pop to be part of what God's given me to become who He wants me to be. How very strange...

Sit Down, Shut Up...and Watch More Arrested Development

2009-06-11T16:57:00.000-07:00

I'm throwing something out there: I like cartoons. This day in age, probably not such a stretch for someone my age to say that. What I like, though, aren't just the 80's Saturday morning cartoons that I watched as a kid or the adult cartoons. No, I'm talking about Looney Tunes, Tex Avery, Popeye, Hanna Barbera. The classics. What made them good, in my opinion, was precisely summed up by Tex Avery's motto: "In cartoons, anything can happen." Nowadays, I'm not so sure that's the idea. The vibe I get is that while the settings might be really inventive and different, anything that happens is kind of predictable.

In May of 2009, Mitch Hurwitz, the mastermind behind Arrested Development, tried to strike more Sunday night primetime gold on Fox, this time in its own domain: animation. So here we go...get the voices of a few funny cast members from AD, SNL, just add Kristin Chenoweth, then animate!

Mitch...you've made a huge mistake.

The fun thing about Arrested Development was that it made everyday life--family, work, love, and all their foibles--look like a cartoon. Take that kind of humor, actually put it in a cartoon, and you get a very average, pedestrian cartoon. It's like white on white. The humor blends in with the surroundings and becomes part of the background. Watch the show. You'll believe me! This is the primary failing of the show. Another downfall is that the style of animation is a bad fit for the writing, too. The choppy, inarticulate action might be great for a kids show, but as far as I'm concerned, Hurwitz's humor is very detailed and requires a medium that can convey as much of that as possible. This is not one of those mediums. Apocalyptic fail.

And Jesus said...

2009-05-15T08:17:00.000-07:00

"I shalt bloweth up sin and most totally obliterate it from all the Earth. For thou hast rockethed my face off for being the creation of my Father. Yea, thou shalt party on in Eternity and it shan't be shabby. For thine is the power and the glory and all that is most radical and excellent. Amen."

Or something like that.

Anyhoo, I was sitting at the drive thru at Rally's (or Checkers, for the uninitiated) conversing with the gal at the window. I see her about every other week on my frequent lunch treks to gather food. She hasn't worked the window long, but she already recognizes me as a regular and we chit-chat some. After a bit of this, she went back to help get the order together and I started thinking about how awesome it was to have that kind of rapport with her. How often do you get that at a fast food joint? I really treasured that. Then I got to thinking about her, wondering how she wound up working at Rally's as opposed to being a brilliant physicist or poet. Maybe she flubbed it somewhere? Maybe it was flubbed when she found it? Who knows. All I knew was that I really enjoyed knowing her as a friend and I really loved her as a sister for it. Regardless of what she'd done or what she hadn't done...it was just cool to see her friendly face at the drive thru.

That's when the plot thickened. In that moment, I not only realized how awesome I felt about her, but I thought about how much more Jesus loved her. Whether or not she chose to be at Rally's over Los Alamos, even if she had some unfortunate missteps...Jesus still died for her and wanted her to have eternal life regardless.

From there, the brew kept getting tastier. I started thinking about the neighbors that live behind Heather at the apartment who always chastise us through "anonymous", nasty notes about cleaning up our dogs' leavings. Of course Christ died to forgive them for doing that to us. He gave His own life for that. What are Heather and I sacrificing for it? Just a little bit of grief. But this is the typical instantaneous forgiveness that my mind kind of gravitates towards when it comes to turning the other cheek, forgiving, and loving your enemies.

What really hit home was when I continued down this road of forgiveness and thought about my own sins, missteps, and otherwise unwise decisions/actions. Last night, I told Heather I felt like a failure. I feel spiritually dead, financially dead, creatively dead, and professionally dead. I'd also been watching Eraserhead for the 45 minutes prior to that. Not exactly hard to draw conclusions from that. Anyway, at the drive thru today thinking about forgiveness for people's ugliness or just lack of getting it together...I realized that Christ died for my failure. In Him, I still have a chance to make good on my gifts, regardless of how much time or money or opportunity I've wasted. There's still hope for new life and new success there. Slowly, this is sinking in and exciting me. Hopefully, it won't be a feeling that fades away soon.

In closing, it's time to go rock God's face off by being His child and accepting His bottomless glass of sweet tea that Christians call salvation through Christ Jesus. My life could turn out to be awesome or it could turn out to be a steaming pile of you-know-what. But I'm loved, I'm saved, and that's all that matters.

Lazy at the Speed of Light!

2009-04-01T14:22:00.000-07:00

Life is rough. I've got a fiancée who loves me in a normal, but weird and totally healthy and constant way. Money's okay. Loving the new church I'm attending. Making new friends...I guess. Am I making new fans too? I don't know. Do I want fans? Should I have them? Is God cool with that? Probably not. I think it depends. I see Him allowing it if I point the way to Him, ultimately. These days...I'm not so hot at that. Or anything else for that matter. The fiancée wouldn't say that about me, since she thought I did a great job taking care of her last week after surgery. I suppose I should be proud of that, instead of thinking I dropped the ball, but it's kind of tough.

What's really going on is that I'm discontent with my being here. Not that I think I need to leave or anything. My purpose and executing that is what bothers me. I don't know what my deal is. All through college, God gave me PLENTY of seeds to sow through creativity. Everyday, I wake up and ponder what kind of creative impulse I'll act on before the day's over. Usually, it's none of them. When it's bedtime, I'll end a day where I didn't write a script, didn't write any music/movie reviews, didn't write a song, didn't design/build my own website, didn't make anything to sell or use to impress the world. This isn't failure so much as laziness.

All my life, I've felt like a performer waiting backstage before the big show. When I get on stage, nobody will notice me, but I'll just start out quietly and eventually get the show going and I'll get a fair share of attention. The performance will be amazing. What I hope is that it points them to God. He's the one who gave me the ability to perform, so naturally it should reflect back on Him and take the minds and hearts of a lot of people with it. There will be unfathomable power pulsing through that performance and it'll change many things in a big way. It will be unlike anything ever seen before and unlike anything I've experienced up to this point. My potential will be utilized and displayed for all to see.

I realize that while this is lofty, it's also possible. I'm capable of that, I think, if I applied myself, but I don't. While I want to live up to my potential and leave my mark on our culture as a reminder of God's presence in our existence and be an inspiration to others...I simply am overwhelmed and frightened at having that much weight on my shoulders. Even if I set out to make the worst crap out there, I'm positive I'll still try to make it good and it'll turn out great. This happens a lot. Whenever I draw something, I always get people who say the most incredible things about my work. Even last Saturday with face-painting, people were saying I was way good at it. While I should've been happy about that, I didn't want to face it. I knew it was good, but I didn't want to believe it and think I really meant something. Maybe that was Satan talking?

Regardless, I'm scared. Scared of how good I can be and scared to actually unlock Pandora's box and garner all the attention from it. A few weeks ago, I had the idea that I might like it if I could just make movies that nobody saw except God. Even when the people who worked on it with me wanted to see it, they couldn't. Only for God. At the same time, I love the notoriety from the crazy, zany stuff I do. I love having my reputation preceding me many places. I love being a nice guy that most people feel comfortable around. My problem is probably just being stuck on myself. If I took myself out of the equation and just focused on the actual inspiration and creating stuff, I might get something done.

Oh Lord, be my muse...

New Church!

2009-02-02T06:55:00.002-08:00

For the last two Sundays, I've found myself in church. Whoa. Not quite sure what's up with me wanting to get reacquainted with the Almighty, but it just felt like it was time to check out a new church. For a while, I'd heard about this church in Louisville called Sojourn, because supposedly it was like all the other churches my friends have gone to that I'd have to move away for. So we checked it out and LOVED it. The place is crazy. Definitely the kind of place I've been looking for over the past two years. I've been to a lot of churches and was super-critical once I walked in the doors. Some of that was unfounded; some of it was. With Sojourn, my guard was down because I was so desperate and hopeful that I would find a place to call my spiritual home, where I could find a body of believers that worshiped God the way I've felt called to do. So far, it hasn't burned me. In fact, this seems like the real deal. They have new member classes that they require you to take before you become a member, but other than that...they don't seem too fanatical. Not like Quest.

So I'm not sure if I can wait until October to move up there. My patience is wearing thin about this whole thing. I want to be up there to start serving, I want to be up there with Heather (especially now that the weather's not-so-handy and she needs more help getting un-stuck from the snow/ice), and I just want to get on with my life. While no opportunities are knocking to get that done at the moment, I'm just trying my best to assume this is just a time of working out the kinks so I can move to Louisville on my own terms and not like a chicken with its head cut off.

Dogs (Two Different Ones)

2009-01-28T13:53:00.000-08:00

Okay, for all you loyal blog followers (just me, I think), I'm getting married in October (assuming I reserve the church--which my fiancée constantly reminds me). As such, I'm inheriting two dogs--boxers, at that.

For most of my life, I've wanted a dog. When I was little, I was scared of most of them, but in the last several years, I've gotten over it, no matter how much barking or growling was involved. Some dogs are truly homely, but nearly everyone can win you over with the eyes. Holy mother, it's weird. Cats do the exact opposite. With cats, they look like they're content with or without you and they're just there. Kind of like most of the dates I went on before I met Heather. Dogs, though, are attention freaks. A dog without attention is a fish out of water.

Anyway, the dogs I'm getting (well, I kind of have them already) are lemons. Really. There's Sawyer, who's a 3 year-old boxer mix, who's got the prettiest coat known to dogdom. Not to mention the prettiest, most picturesque eyes. She also knows how to listen, for the most part. Then there's Stevie, who's pretty much the bitch of the two. She's almost two, is quite the baby, runt of the litter, and pretty much obeys whenever you don't care if she does or not. The times when you really wish she'd obey, she ignores you.

They used to have a problem with using the bathroom in the house when we'd leave them alone in the old apartment, but we haven't really left them alone outside the crate long enough to find out. I guess if they resort to doing anything, they nose through/pull out the garbage or destroy something. Aside from that, it's sort of annoying to take them out for a potty break every few hours, but I guess it could be worse. Not sure if I can handle this everyday, though. Might be better if we got a house with a dog door and a backyard. But a backyard would mean mowing. Geez.

A New Christmas

2008-11-27T04:31:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again. Americans are gearing up to find plenty of reasons to take the "Happy" out of "Happy Holidays", whether it's through poor manners while shopping or being offended by whose holiday we should/shouldn't be celebrating. A few days ago, I watched some video done by a guy at Focus on the Family, who also used to be the chief meteorologist at my place of employment, and he was ranting about how he was offended, as a Christian, that so many companies were sending him catalogs in the mail that didn't contain the word "Christmas". To combat this, he was going to create a new holiday to go along with the other ones and call it "Tossmas". Everytime he got catalogs from companies that merely said "Happy Holidays", he'd wish it a "Merry Tossmas" and toss it in the trashcan.

Earlier this year, this particular hombre (whose initials are SS, BTW...just sayin') made national news when he made a vlog calling for Christians to pray that God would make it rain on the Democratic National Convention in Denver, thus thwarting Satan's plans to take over the US. Now he's against generic holiday greetings. I have to confess that I used to think like this. I thought stores should make their employees wish people a MC and it should be fashionable again. These days, I'm not really hanging out at church as much as I was back then and I'm not exposed to all the propaganda that goes along with. So I'm all about letting other cultures share in the celebrating too. If they want to celebrate another non-Christmas holiday this time of year, that's fine as long as there's a lot of food and I'm invited. (Kidding!)

Personally, I have a hard time getting into the "real" meaning of Christmas. I've celebrated Baby Jesus so much over the years it's just gotten old. Every year, He's still in that manger chillin with asses, shittin' in the hay right along with them. That's not to say I've stopped looking for some kind of redemptive meaning in all this mess. Finally, I'm learning to get over my cynicism towards the consumerism and fanaticism of the season and focus on all the inspirational things going on.

The Salvation Army has been a shining beacon, embodying all the potential human beings have for actually letting the holidays live up to their happy name. Every year when the bells and kettles come out, Heaven is loosed for people who had no hope. This is what I love about this time of year, even though I should be smacked for not participating in it more than I do. The SA does such a job of "disguising" the fact that it's a church that people don't realize they're actually giving to a church when they put money in the kettle. They figure they're giving it to a charity that does a lot of good around the world and it's going to a good cause--which it does. That's why I love the Sallies. It's so damn inconspicuous, but they actually do what Christ would want His people to do. They don't waste their time or breath drawing attention to themselves...they draw the attention to the poor and the hopeless and the needy and the ways to help those folks. This is Christ among us. Changing lives, giving hope, and doing good. To Christians, I would say this is how you say "Merry Christmas".

To non-Christians who hate Christmas and hate that Christians want to monopolize the holidays time of year, look at what the Salvation Army does every year. They do this because they're celebrating the coming of someone who gave them the idea and the calling to do all this good work in the world. While you don't have to believe in Christ, you can take something away from the Christmas story. Look at Christmas as a metaphor for birth and a new beginning in your own life to commit yourself to doing good work in this world for others. You don't have to be anything but a human in order to help someone else. You have a heart. You have a conscience. Listen to them and you'll know what you need to do here on earth. For Christians, Christmas marks the beginning of a mission. This can also be the same for non-Christians, too. To focus on doing good is to focus on God.

Probing My Brain with a Rusty Nail

2008-11-21T04:48:00.000-08:00

Yeah, okay. I didn't really know what kijnd of title to throw up there, so I thought I'd come up with the typical pseudo-weird/cliché title that sounds like I'm some kind of smartass cynic who's trying to be funny. Hmm...

Plus, I just felt like talking about lots of random things that are all over the map, so any kind of unrelated title would do.

Anyhoo...the first item up for bids is the idea that Kentucky put to death a dude convicted of killing a 6 and 7-year old back in 2002, in addition to raping and attempting to kill their mother and older sister while under the influence of drugs. While I'm not unilaterally for or against the death penalty, I think there's a difference between a hardened criminal and a victim of one's own vices. Sometimes people are wired to be psychotic criminals and all the antidepressants in the world couldn't cure them. Other times you just get a gut feeling that some people who may be on death row really have learned their lesson and don't need to die. This guy, Marco Chapman, really grabbed my attenion because he took responsibility for his actions, pleaded with his lawyers to stop appealing his death sentence, and genuinely feels he needs to die for something he did when he wasn't in his right mind.

I hear wisdom in this man's remorse. Something the State of Kentucky and his ex-girlfriend/victim are missing. It's horrible that he killed children and raped their mother, but he's not proud of it, he admits his guilt, he's accepted his fate, and it seems the corrections system has fulfilled its purpose. From the sounds of it, this man's already killed himself inside and he's just waiting for the State to finish off his body. Lethal injection is just a tap on the arm compared to the torture and death Chapman's put himself through in his own heart. That being said, execution seems a bit like beating a dead horse. Corrections facilities are meant to correct criminals, are they not? How in the hell do you correct them by bumping them off? His old ways are far behind him, because he's killed his old self both through imprisonment and impending death. Now there's a chance for life and new possibilities, but nobody's seeing this. Instead, they just want to waste this man and any kind of good he could bring about.

I sympathize with the mother over the loss of her children, but she sickens me for being so blinded by rage and vengeance. She's so unwilling to honor her children's memories by allowing this man a chance to do good and maybe save another woman's children. Nobody sees this. The people who are lobbying for his release also piss me off. They seem to be more concerned about the political ramifications than they are showing grace and mercy to a man humbled by his own sins. Church groups think he shouldn't be executed because he's trying to play God. What the hell? How about not killing him because he's a child of God and he's repentant of his sins? Then other groups are just protesting the death penalty because they think it's inhumane.

The death penalty is useful, in my opinion. It should be used on psychos who only know how to live by preying on others and violating other people's security and safety. The ones who can't be rehabilitated. The ones who, after years of imprisonment, remain a threat to society, just like dogs that are too mean to train. Put humans down just like dogs that can't be retrained. However, don't base the death penalty solely on the crime. Chapman wasn't a mad dog like Charlie Manson. His rampage wasn't due to permanent psychological problems...it was just a temporary freakout due to drugs and alcohol. Someone like that needs help, not death. Why did no one try to help him get over his crime, get over drugs/alcohol, and make him fit for society? His crimes were not pre-meditated, but were part of a drunken rage. The death penalty was inconsistent and unnecessary and happened only because everybody freaked out due to gut reaction to the crime. Our justice system is incredibly flawed--possibly more than the bureaucracy--and Marco Chapman is a martyr. He deserved another chance at life and freedom, but it was denied because people are too selfish and narrow-minded to really accept forgiveness and grace as a way of society. Individual human achievement is a wonderful thing too often eclipsed or nullified by the achievement of many individuals of a mob.

"Which orchestra is that?"

2008-11-09T11:46:00.001-08:00

Ahhh...one of my favorite clips from TVdom.

Election Day 2008: A Great Day for Anarchy

2008-11-04T04:32:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've decided I'm basically an anarchist. But I believe in Christ and trying to make my life bear some kind of resemblence to his, so I guess you could call me a Christian™ anarchist. If I told anyone in my family that, they'd probably flip out and pull out the Holy Water and go buy some crucifixes, trying to touch them to my forehead. You think I'm kidding! Yesterday, my dad told me to make sure I go vote today because it's my "civic duty". Until then, I'd considered not going at all. Then I thought if he was going to make a big deal out of it, then maybe I should. Now I'm back to thinking I may not just because I don't feel that strongly about supporting a system of government that I feel to be flawed. So I feel it's my "civic duty" not to participate in something until the kinks are worked out. The only problem with that is most Americans probably don't think there are kinks, so they just blindly take the plunge off the voting cliff like lemmings and are none the wiser for it. And if you try to challenge any of that, you'll be called crazy and get ignored.

George Carlin is a genius. I've watched his voting rant just enough times to barely not know the thing by heart, but he says that people have no right to tell you you don't have a right to complain if you don't vote. Why? If you don't vote, and the person elected causes a big mess, you can complain about it because it's not your fault we got screwed. That's always made perfect sense to me, as opposed to the converse that "you can't complain if you don't vote". What if you wanted to complain about the choices on the ballot? What if you wanted to complain that we're not a constitutional monarchy or a theocracy? Are you still supposed to lodge your complaint by voting? It's this kind of reasoning that makes me not want to vote. If people with that kind of shady logic vote, then wouldn't that mean I have shady logic if I vote too? Then again, I could kind of take the middle road and just do a bunch of silly write-ins or vote straight third party, that way if a Republican or Democrat screws us (which they likely will), then I can both say it's not my fault and that I have a right to complain because I did vote (not that it matters anyway since that argument was stupid to begin with).

Despite all this cynicism...I had a dream last night that I hung out one-on-one with Barack Obama and then with Sarah Palin. I met Obama in some kind of waiting room for the election...but it was like the day before. There were maybe 30 people in this waiting room and none of them noticed he was there. I was sitting in a corner and Obama came over and sat in the seats caddy corner from me. He was just wearing a ballcap, a t-shirt, windbreaker, joggin pants, and sneakers. Once he sat down, he picked up a magazine and started reading it. Not really wanting to be a nuisance, I just casually started asking him about the weather and asked him if he was ready to campaign today. He nervously eyed me and didn't say a word...almost like he wanted to say something, but since it wasn't scripted and his advisors weren't around, he didn't want to risk saying anything that could get out. But I kept trying to make conversation and he finally opened up. After a while, that had dried up again, we pulled out our iPods and sat there, waiting for him to make a speech. The only problem...he didn't really give a speech. He just sat in the waiting room and started chatting with a few of the other people in the waiting room. (Cont'd later...)

American Revolution II: Taking the USA Back from the Suits

2008-09-29T04:19:00.000-07:00

In the goings-on of the past week on Capitol Hill, something very obvious has hit me: the government does not seem to be very much in line with the will of the people. Granted, there's a lot of debate to be had over whether the will of the people is actually good for the people and if the gov't is or is not carrying that out. However, my observation/reasoning operated off the idea that the people who are in Washington calling all the shots really are not closely related to the typical working class American. It's as if they're bred in secrecy, away from the masses in ornate caves called "mansions", and once they reach maturity, are released not into society, but into a cushy little do-nothing corporate job where they can be fast-tracked to the top once Daddy's bought their Ivy-League degree. Once there, they only work to add zeros to their income, no matter the cost. Fire this, acquire that, sell these stocks by this date, insert this politician into pocket.

Not every politician is in a pocket and not every politician has a background in big business, but the ones who seem to have any say or are given any kind of media attention must be. There are honest men and women in Washington, but they're ignored because they don't play the game. The media get away with this by portraying themselves as people who can relate to us and go through the same things we do. It's all an act. Take The Today Show, for instance. All those cooking segments, the latest in fall fashion, and interviews with everyday people about the election all make it look like it's a perfect portrait of America. This must really be what's going on. Yeah, some of it is. It's not a sin of commission that I'm faulting the media for. It's the sin of omission that's the problem. What we don't know is hurting us.

Think about it. The media are controlled by huge corporations that are downright ruthless when it comes to the bottom line. Those corporations operate by consumer spending. So of course they're going to program their media outlets to send you information that will benefit them. So what if they don't tell the truth? They're not accountable to anybody...except the consumer. Even then, if the consumer found out something sinister, chances are they could be bought or distracted enough to forget about it quickly before things get out of hand. If that wasn't enough, just hire a somebody to take care of them. If anyone from justice or law enforcement finds out, buy them or have them taken care of.

The American people are naïve to think they really have a say in what happens in their country anymore. We just blindly assume that the corporate sector somehow neatly stays in its place and out of government affairs, but I don't think it does because there's nothing to stop it. It looks like there are measures are in place to do that, but how do we really know if those measures are being enforced? We might as well assume that GM, GE, and Exxon-Mobil are the three branches of government. Just ask yourself one thing: "Do the corporations have the power to control America?" Yes. Yes, they do.

Seriously...we have really been taken on a ride. We think we can control a country with the likes of these huge corporations with a vote? A vote really is worth more than money? An American's vote is more powerful than their dollar? Crazy. I'm going to try that at lunch tomorrow. I'm going to go to Taco Bell, order me a baja beef chalupa (maybe even the #6 with a Dew), and pull up to the drive thru window and hand them my vote. Doesn't cost me anything but my time, which is okay. Time's a small sacrifice when you consider how it was used to keep the country running and stuff like that.

The kind of change these bozos are teasing us with is something they're not capable of delivering single-handedly. Not only that, but the American people really don't know how much the change they really need would actually cost. We think it'll just come to us for free if we vote for it. No sacrifice needed.

My question is this: do we let the suits keep running this country by buying their goods and services and supporting their puppets in Washington or do we take up arms and take back our country?

Unacceptable

2008-09-15T04:50:00.000-07:00

Time for another religious rant. My thesis: I don't like church. Lately, I've been drifting into what I'd call "morally-ambiguous waters". Of course I have been for some time and I've probably mentioned it about every other post on this blog. Is this something I'm proud of or am I concerned about it? On the one hand, I'm happy to be breaking away from the pack and from the environment I was raised in. For the most part, it was a good environment, but I've also matured in an environment that was a little different than that. Even since then, I've deviated from that too. Really, my best friend Dan described this pattern the best: I do what I want.

Growing up, I could never watch R-rated movies and even though I'm 24, I'm still not supposed to do it in my parents' house. (Although I've done it so much, it's more of a "don't ask/don't tell" thing...along with alcohol, whether or not I smoke cigars, and what I do with my girlfriend.) Dan's right...I pretty much do what I want. There are a lot of things I've been told not to do in my life, but I refuse to blindly follow those things without questioning why I'm not supposed to do them. In a lot of areas, I've concluded that it's really not that bad if I do them, or if it could be that bad then use a lot of caution. As far as that goes, I feel fine living in my own skin while doing those things (like watching "bad" movies, drinking, smoking cigars, etc).

What bothers me is that I don't feel like I'm acceptable enough to pursue my relationship with God. God might think I'm good enough for it, since He says to come onto Him anyway, but it's the whole church thing that gets me. While I feel okay for doing those certains things that I do, I can almost certainly predict that not everyone at church will see eye-to-eye with me on that. Even if they still welcomed me and accepted me, it's not like they'd let me help out and do anything productive before they "purified" me. I'd still be ostracized for my "deviant behavior" and everyone would try all their different little way sof trying to correct me in my "sins". I don't want that. If someone can find me a church where I can go serve just as I am and I can make a bunch of friends who are solid brothers and sisters in Christ, I'm there. So far, I'm not sure if this exists. Even if it did, maybe it shouldn't exist and maybe it's not the healthiest church out there? I don't know. It's tough as hell trying to figure out if I'm being a pompous ass about religion or if I have a right to stand up for what I believe to be right and wrong. My parents would like to see me at church, but I just assume that's synonymous with becoming reprogrammed into God's little robot and I'll lose any kind of deviant or independent thought I have about God or religion. It feels like I must lose my identity in order to truly embrace worshiping with other Christians.

9/11

2008-09-11T04:12:00.000-07:00

While I don't typically like hopping on sentimental bandwagons like this and I've already taken time out of the past seven years to grieve all I need to grieve, it is kind of interesting to reflect on the day itself. It's a fascinating study in fear, insecurity, paranoia, and a coming of age of sorts. That day we were having our senior pictures taken for the yearbook during my English class. Before that, though, I had my painting class and in the last 10 minutes of that, we started hearing about something that had happened in New York...like an airliner crashing into the World Trade Center.

Your gut reaction was to think it was just an accident. Nothing too scary about that. Sad, yeah, but it's just an isolated, rare incident that just randomly happened and it won't happen again for a while...if ever. Then right when you settle back into your skin and rationalize everything, the other plane hits. These were no accidents. The second plane hit well into the next class (English), and for the whole hour, we were glued to the screen. Eventually, we went to the auditorium for pictures, came back to the classroom, but only stayed for about 10 minutes before the school was evacuated due to a bomb threat (our school was notorious for those).

The whole time, more information's coming out about planes crashing into the Pentagon and one that crashed in Pennsylvania and one that was supposedly going to the White House (which turned out to be the one in PA). In any case, nobody was really worried about the bomb threat...we knew it was fake just like the other twenty we'd have in a given year. But it yanked us out of the routine of classes and gave us time to stew over the plane crashes and the World Trade Center coming down, which fed our fear and paranoia. The ground had fallen out from underneath us and we didn't know if this was the end of the world, just a similar event to Pearl Harbor, or if they were just freak accidents. It was scary. I kept thinking it might be the end of the world and the attacks would just keep on coming and coming and not just stop at four. Sure, we were pretty safe in Lexington, but who knew what these people were going to do next?

Our emotions and our hearts were raw. Thousands of people just like us--Americans going about their daily duty--had died. Security was out the window. Life as we knew it was over. Looking back on it, the whole experience was frightening, but it was more interesting just to see the human reaction to a tragedy like that...not only in myself, but in the people around me and in the country. Everybody was scared shitless and we did courageous things for each other...but once we realized we had our security back again (whether the government said so or not), we went back to being our regular selfish selves. We were back in the saddle again after being knocked off our high horse in the world.

That's what I believe led to us being attacked in the first place. Ron Paul believes it's because we kept bombing Iraq for ten years, starting with Operation Desert Storm. While that might be part of it, I don't think that's all or even most. What I think is the cause of their disgust with us is our pursuit of the almighty dollar. We've unknowingly been engaged in a cultural/commercial imperialism in the last few decades, allowing our culture to pervade places with longstanding traditions and cultures of their own. Our culture is seen as strange, new, and attractive and it's adopted by the youth who have no appreciation of their own native heritage. So then they start acting in ways that go against the ways of their ancestors, the old traditionalists get pissed after a while, and they want to make it go away. There's a great quote in a film starring Sean Connery called [i]The Wind and the Lion[/i], where he plays an Arab chieftain in Morocco at the turn of the 19th Century. In a letter to Teddy Roosevelt, who's just invaded Morocco to rescue an American woman and her children that were abducted by Connery's character, he says, "I, like the lion, must remain in my place. While you, like the wind, will never know yours." While the movie was written and directed by an American, John Milius, I do think he articulated the mindset found in the Arab world. They want to keep their traditions and their culture and not have it robbed from them by us, just so we can become richer. We won't listen to reasoning, so drastic measures must be taken. Hence, 9/11.

We think our culture war between the liberals and the conservatives is rough. This ain't rough. What's going on in the Middle East, between the youth and the elders...change vs. tradition...is [i]rough[/i]. We indirectly instigated it by influencing sectors of their society, but now we're pulled into it, both by our own means and by theirs. It sucks, I want it to be over so there's no more killing, but in the end, I think we'll have a rather pleasant end result.

Erection Day 2008

2008-09-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

Actually, I'm very much considering voting for McCain just because Sarah Palin's hot. No, really. I'm tired of having to choose between Ophony vs. McPhony. They're both politicians, ugly as sin, and they don't say a whole lot in their speeches. I need more criteria for choosing who I'll vote for and these two lame-o's just aren't dishing it out. Sarah Palin does. She brings the whole hottness factor to the table and that's something that shocked and awed me. So what if my boner casts my vote in the voting booth? At least it's decisive.

If McCain croaks, I'd be pretty excited to see what she'd do as POTUS. So what if she's not experienced? I'm not exactly convinced anyone who's ever been nominated/elected to the White House has been "qualified" to be Pres. I don't see why so many of my fellow Americans think they can rightly judge how "qualified" a person is for the job, when they've got no presidential experience themselves. There's only four men alive who can really decide who could be good and even then, they're told who to choose via party affiliations. That just goes to show they were stupid choices in the first place for being so easy to control and for making decisions based on party bias, not issues or--I shouldn't say it--their own beliefs!

Okay, so Palin's still a career politician, but I'd be perfectly content leaving the country in her hands. I don't think Presidents have any real power anyway--whether my "puppet" theory is true or not. If you ask me, Charlie Manson's just as "qualified" to be President as McLame or Osama. Just pardon him and remove all sharp objects from the Oval Office and we're good to go! Hell, he could pull the troops out of Iraq and Afghanistan and just go over there himself to get bin Laden and the rest of the "terr'ists". That platform alone would probably get him elected, because who would doubt he could do just that?

"Charlie, Charlie, he's our man! If he can't kill 'em, no one can!"

Donkey Poo, Elephant Poo, Be Ye Flushed!

2008-08-28T17:17:00.000-07:00

"If a third party emerges and survives someday, its symbol should be either: A) The toilet, or B) A pooper-scooper."
Teddy Roosevelt, 19something-something

Since I work in television news, everyday I'm exposed to more politics than I care to be. Most Americans get to turn it off after about 10-15 minutes. Not me. We hang on every cut, fade, commercial break, interview, satellite feed, and video clip that comes from the network. So every morning, I get to see recaps of last night's speeches about 10 times by the time I get to carry my sorry butt home at 1 PM. By that time, I have to say I'm no more convinced that the candidates have a clue what they're doing or that they operate of their own free-will than I did when the first clip rolled.

What makes me pout even more is that I actually hear people critiquing the speeches! For one, I don't believe the speeches to begin with. My opinion is that the power isn't with the people who vote...it's with the people who have billions of dollars at stake if this country sinks or floats in the global scene. So these politicians we see flapping their gums are really just yes-men. Secondly, these puppets are just copying the great speeches of yesteryear, because they know all the gullible rubes out there will eat it up in a fit of nostalgia. And, my last but not least point of contention about these speeches: THEY ALL SOUND THE SAME!

Of course I'm wrong, though, because they're not the same speeches, thanks to a handy little doodad called a thesaurus. Even moreso, I'm probably wrong because I'm not even paying attention to what's actually being said. Which is true. I'm not paying that much attention, because I know what they say won't make a lick of difference, in the end. It's all just poo. So I don't need to pay attention! I'll just keep spending my hard-earned money, in hopes that my heavenly forefathers, George, Abe, Alexander, Andy, and General Grant have got my back if I'm ever in danger of losing my life, liberty, or right to buy a gallon of gas for $20. That gives me a warm, toasty feeling inside large enough to overshadow the sorrow from knowing so many of my fellow Americans actually believe that Barack and "Blood & Guts" really do stand for different ideals.

Christianity and Reading

2008-08-25T05:18:00.001-07:00

Of all the religions in the world, I wonder which one has had the most books written in relation to it? I'm very tempted to say Christianity takes the cake, because for YEARS, all sorts of books have been written about this or that part of Christianity. Whether it's Bible studies, Bible analysis, problems with Christians, problems with Hollywood being too sinful, Jesus hanging out in Utah with funny-colored glasses, etc. Let's not forget all the self-help stuff that's trickled out over the centuries and only recently exploded in the 1970s/'80s.

I think about all that literature about Christianity, and none of it appeals to me. I've read a few of these books and the last one I read was [i]Blue Like Jazz[/i]...which was a phenomenal book. But I'm wondering, what's the point? Don Miller's probably repeating something else someone else said, but that book's just not circulated as much or maybe it is, but Miller just kind of ran it through the gauntlet of his mind, reworking it so much he forgot where his ideas originated, and just wrote a book, thinking he'd stumbled onto something. How many Christian books--especially the multitudes of self-help books--are like that? How many of them are actually useful?

These days, I prefer classic literature or some good ol Hunter S Thompson to put some religion into me.

Soundiscovery Issue #1: Pink Floyd's The Final Cut

2008-08-07T05:09:00.000-07:00

For the time being, this is the new home of a little venture I'm calling Soundiscovery. It's an "e-zine" of sorts, you could say (okay, it's a blog), dedicated to the music I feel very strongly about.

To kick off the first issue, I'm opening with some thoughts on an underrated album by the best band known to Man, Pink Floyd. First, a little history about it. The title is very appropriate, The Final Cut: A Requiem for the Post-War Dream - by Roger Waters, performed by Pink Floyd, as it's the final album of the Roger Waters-era of the band. Roger had fired Richard Wright, Nick Mason was supposedly next, and David Gilmour was the only one left to stand up to him, as he was the only one who was still writing music that Waters could use in some diminished capacity. Basically, this is a Roger Waters solo album. If you listen to the succeeding solo albums, there's a definite theme: lyrics over music. The music takes a far backseat to the messages Waters tries to convey. They're all minimalistic, pretty much. And it all started with The Final Cut.

The impotus for the album was Waters's meditation on the circumstances that led to his father's death in WWII. Then it also examines how frivolously world leaders still throw away human lives when it comes to international conflicts, as if nothing was learned from the pain and loss of WWII, as if every war is just a game played by "overgrown infants". It's a powerful anti-war message that exposes the faults that are inherent with those in control. That being said, it's both an insightful look at the past and a prophecy of things to come, as long as the privileged are left to rule the world. The backdrop of the Falklands War is only a metaphor for the message Waters is telling us about human nature. Where The Wall takes a look at the self, The Final Cut takes a look at the world and the human race.

In terms of accessibility, The Final Cut throws up a wall of its own, isolating itself from most ears for the first few listens. It's not loud, it's not flashy, it's not catchy, it's just simply a reflection on humanity's darker side. Without all the bells, whistles, and theatricality of The Wall, this album is still a masterpiece. It's tough to concede to the indulgence of the man who broke up the greatest band in history, but his lyrics and sparing use of music created a great coda to an era, leaving us with an obscure masterpiece that will never gain the attention it deserves. Few people can reach this level of articulate and satirical songwriting, interpreting the world we live in with such original insight and brilliance. The Final Cut is, in conclusion, a modern classic comparable to the works of the great British satirists of the Enlightenment.

Congressman: The Legend of Ron Paul-gundy

2008-06-03T13:25:00.000-07:00

EDITOR'S NOTE: I actually started this post a couple months ago, but the Democratic National Convention and the inevitable Republican National Convention got me pining for my favorite political [super]hero. So here's the venture that ensued on that one early-summer afternoon.

Today was a fun day. It got off with a bang--a storm hit central KY, the substation feeding our humble little TV station was knocked out, so there went our transmitter (and control board/switcher). Meaning for two hours, we were in black, and even after that we had to put together a newscast using popsicle sticks and glue. Although to the average viewer, nothing was out of the ordinary. To us that were dicking around with said sticks and glue, it was hell on wheels (or frames). When I got home, I checked around the house to make sure everything was ok--most importantly, my new $20 Wal-Mart grill (which is still a proud and delicious member of the family). That's when it became time to sink into a real lazy groove and just kind of turn my brain off through some idle chatter on Yahoo or other sinful pleasures one might find on the internet. Unfortunately, the clip from Family Guy with Peter as Indy and Stewie as Short Round was nowhere to be found on Youtube, so I went to the Relevant Forums.

There, I got sucked into a post about the economy, by the forum's resident-financial-pessimist. It was some article by some Londoner about some eggs, chickens, oil, money, inflation, and a case of Negra (or did I only imagine the last part?). Surprisingly enough, with that long read, I withstood that pointless bombardment of woes and gloom and finished the damn thing. Although, by the end, I felt enlightened. The only thing to do from there was to go to Wikipedia and find out just what the hell kind of wisdom I'd incurred. Now, most of you readers will probably be able to relate that Wikipedia is a force to be reckoned with. It's a black hole for ignorance. There's no safe way to skirt around the edges if you're feeling just the least bit curious about any given topic. Without knowledge to weigh you down and resist the intellectual gravity of Wiki, you'll be sucked deep within and rescue nor escape is possible for hours.

So I started at inflation. Inflation led to the price of gold. Price of gold led to reading about stock market trends. Stock market trends led to stagflation. Stagflation led to Keynesian. Keynesian led to monetarism. Monetarism was a bit of a dead end, because now I was starting to form some kind of knowledge base for my awareness of the economical goings-on of the great US of A. Whether it has any bearing on the Kingdom of God or not...I figure it might do well to be aware of one's surroundings. Is the US gov't to be trusted? Is it in line with the human race bettering itself? Is it closer to uprighting a fallen humanity? One person that I seemed to recall having a rather polarizing word to say about all this was Ron Paul and I'd recently watched Youtube video of him "schooling" Fed chairman Ben Bernanke on sound economics. So I was wondering where that wise old sage fell on the issues and concepts and institutions I was reading about. Although, rather than being that focused, I just read about Ron Paul: the man, the myth, the underground poker champion. I'd read his wiki page a while back, but had forgotten a lot of the fringe details. Here lately when I've tried spreading his gospel, I've forgotten a lot of his views. I'd be like, "Well, he's really awesome. Umm...he's really into that 'don't ask-don't tell' policy for gays in the military. Yeah...just a lot of cool ideas like that." Really great selling point, that. Thankfully, I re-read the wiki page and discovered just how sad it is that a brilliant man such as him was passed up for the nomination to the highest political office in the country.

Lately, I've been delving into the mind of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson. The man, for the most part, seemed to be rather pessimistic when it came to the future of his country. So was my sociology professor in college, Tomas Moore. Both men have been shaping my perception of the world, and more specifically, American politics. Up until yesterday, I held the same pessimistic view that America was a corrupt, sluggish, and lazy slob of a country, carelessly throwing its weight around the world, stirring up foes around the globe who hate us and attack us for meddling in affairs other than our own. Then I read about Ron Paul and realized that there is hope. He's the inside man who thinks the same way we do. The only difference is that he's an optimistabout the situation. In one man, you have not just the optimism that America can be fixed, but he's actually in the position to do it. He's not just some pundit or college student or burned-out druggie/journo going off on Washington. He's in Washington, on the inside. Granted, I doubt he'll ever get very far unless some major corporations like the cut of his jib, but maybe someday people will get behind him. He's probably close to retiring, so we can only hope someone else stands waiting to take up his crusade to make America a pretty decent place again, with a government to boot.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

2008-05-23T04:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, at work, I got this strange feeling...as if a worm, a slug, a parasite had burrowed itself under my skin, at the base of my spine, and was slowly working its way up to my brain. It started when I absent-mindedly started listening to the soundtrack from the movie. Then I began to think about how the movie was being released that day. All of this just gave "The Thing" on my spine energy to move. I knew there was only one way to keep it away from all that I hold dear: see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull at the soonest possible convenience.

That's precisely what I did. I went to Regal for the 1:45 showing. Going in, I expected that the opening shot would fade from the Paramount mountain into a mountain on-screen, just like the other three movies--and it did. It faded from the Paramount logo into a prairie dog hole/mound. From there, the movie pretty much rocked. It definitely played out like an Indy movie and it felt like an Indy movie...it's just that it didn't "pop" like an Indy movie. There was a lot that I liked about the movie: the acting, the casting (John Hurt and Jim Broadbent? Wow.) , the music, the action sequences, the dialogue, and maybe even the Maguffin (the crystal skull--or the "Ark/Holy Grail" of this movie). But when combined, all of that did create the same kind of legendary spectacle that the other three movies were. Why is that?

The easy thing to believe is that after the prequel trilogy, we know that George Lucas has lost it. I actually think he's been a bad director all along, but just got lucky one time and is only now having the chance to show his true colors as a bad director. Either that or he did have it, but quit using it to concentrate on other things and then he lost it. THX 1138 and American Graffiti are both really good movies. Star Wars followed his trend of "thinking outside the frame" and he really was on his way to re-inventing film. But then he lost it sometime after The Empire Strikes Back. Spielberg still has it, I'm convinced. Munich was awesome. The Terminal was awesome. Catch Me If You Can was awesome. Minority Report was awesome. AI was awesome. The only Spielberg movie that hasn't been awesome in this decade was War of the Worlds. The only movies that weren't awesome in the 90s were Hook, Jurassic Park, and The Lost World. Two of those movies have something in common--and it's not the dinosaurs. No, both the dinosaur movies were written by a guy named David Koepp. He also wrote the first Spider-Man movie. So I think there's a pattern here. With the exception of Hook, all the sub-par Spielberg movies of the past 20 years have been written by David Koepp. Any other time that Spielberg's directed from someone else's script, he's made a damn good movie.

Here's why I'm not a David Koepp fan: his films are shallow. By shallow, I mean they either have no emotional/dramatic depth, or they're just too simple. Crystal Skull suffers from both. What happens with Koepp is that there are a lot of great themes and ideas that are touched upon, but they're never fleshed out enough. There will be a scene where the characters start diving underneath the surface of their actions, expressing this real humdinger of internal conflict or arousing insight into themselves or a situation...but that's as far as it gets. The scene between Jim Broadbent and Indy at his home, talking about how life is starting to take more things away than it gives really got me excited, because it was philosophical, insightful, dramatic, and deeper than just a progression of the plot. Of course it was nothing more than a rehash of Indy's talks with Marcus, which were always good, introspective scenes that get the audience focused on the adventure they're about to embark upon. However, the scene with Jim Broadbent (I kept wanting him to say "He had a big, bushy BEARD!" for some reason) just kind of went nowhere. It stirred up excitement and interest like this was going to be a movie that'd offer a chance for a little introspection into my own heart, much like Last Crusade, but it never really did that again.

Spider-Man is the same way. The chats that Peter has with his Uncle Ben or Aunt Mae start to become really interesting, emotional, and deep but then they don't go anywhere beyond that to make any kind of conclusions to the moral questions they raise...if they even make it as far as to ask questions.

Koepp sucks. He's a hack and I always cringe when I see his name associated with a movie I'm eagerly awaiting. I mean when Crystal Skullwas being written, several exciting names were attached to the project. Frank Darabont was one. Yet, somehow, all these great writers were having their scripts shot down by Lucas. Then word comes that everyone was starting to get anxious to start production, so then they just got Koepp to crank out one of his hack jobs and that's the movie we got. To his credit, though, the movie isn't horrible. Neither were Spider-Man, Jurassic Park, or Secret Window. I mean it's one of those situations where "even a bad Indy movie is still better than most action movies". It was still a great popcorn movie...it's just that there were a lot of unpopped kernels left when it was over.

My Tina Dream

2008-01-29T05:14:00.000-08:00

Last night, for some strange reason, I had a dream about Tina Fey. Only...she wasn't famous. She'd still done 30 Rock and stuff like that, but it was on hiatus or something. She was hanging out at my apartment one night when I got in. Obviously, I'd never met her before and I was pleasantly surprised to see her there, but rather than be nervous and speechless, I just rolled with the punches and started flirting with her as if she was my girlfriend. Her reaction was, shall we say, compliant, as we then proceeded to make out in this recliner that was in my room. Can't remember if she kept her glasses on or not. I know she didn't keep other things on. One strange thing is that her chest wound up being a lot smaller than I thought it would be. I didn't mind it too much, because she was still smoking hot and did an awesome job scratching that itch deep in my soul for companionship and intimacy. She was all woman.

So for that, I shall post the lyrics to one of Primus' greatest songs..."Tommy the Cat".

"I remember as it were a meal ago"

Said Tommy the Cat as he reeled back to
clear whatever foreign matter may have
nestled its way into his mighty throat.
Many a fat alley rat had met its demise
while staring point blank down the
cavernous barrel of this awesome prowling
machine.
Truly a wonder of nature this urban predator.
Tommy the cat had many a story to tell,
But it was a rare occasion such as this
that he did.

"She came slidin' down the alleyway like
butter drippin' off a hot biscuit.
The aroma, the mean scent, was enough
to arouse suspicion in even the oldest of
Tigers that hung around the hot spot in
those days.
The sight was beyond belief.
Many a head snapped for double - even
triple - takes as this vivacious feline made
her her way into the delta of the alleyway
where the most virile of the young tabbys
were known to hang out.

They hung in droves. Such a multitude of
masculinity could only be found in one
place...
And that was O'malley's Alley.

The air was thick with cat calls
(no pun intended),
But not even a muscle in her neck did
twitch as she sauntered up into the heart
of the alley.
She knew what she wanted.
She was lookin' for that stud bull, the he
cat.
And that was me.

Tommy the Cat is my name and I say unto
thee...

"Say baby do you wanna lay down by me"

Spider Pig flies over London's Battersea Power Station

2007-12-12T05:23:00.001-08:00

Yes, this was shot into Homer's stomach on the way up.

Le Travelogue d'Atlanta II

2007-12-05T05:08:00.000-08:00

Monday & Tuesday
Okay, thought I'd actually finish something for once in this blog. Both days, I basically did the same thing: slept late, went out for lunch to get some GOOD FOOD, and then went to a really awesome record store. Monday, I ate at Boston Market and had half a rotisserie chicken, mac & cheese, creamed spinach, and of course cornbread. Man, I'm getting hungry. Once I tracked down the record store, I found a mother lode of great buys--some good soundtracks, Regatta de Blanc, Profiles (solo project by Pink Floyd's drummer), and David Gilmour's first solo album (Pink Floyd's guitarist). Later Monday night, Matt and I went over to Gwinnett to see another Asbury roommate, Dale, who works with kids at a ranch who come from troubled homes. This ranch was out in the country, all the roads were pitch-black, and we had The Wall blasting. We'd gone up there to play b'ball, but my lingering bronchitis hampered that, so I just wound up reading a Hunter S Thompson book I'd bought at supper.

Tuesday was different in that I went to a Cajun restaurant for lunch--got gumbo and jambalaya to eat--they rocked. Went back to the record store and bought a Roger Waters solo album (Pink Floyd's bassist/lead songwriter) and another soundtrack. The rest of the day consisted of watching Scrubs, then going to a pizza parlor to play trivia and drink beer and eat another delicious calzone.

Wednesday
The voyage home. Pretty boring trip back to reality, really. Stopped at Bojangle's for lunch in Chattanooga, got gas south of Knoxville, hated the drive through southern KY, got home around 3. That morning, leaving Atlanta was interesting because traffic was backed up about 30 minutes out of town. If I move there and get a 9 to 5 job...I'm screwed.

Anyway, the trip rocked...wanna live there. SO MUCH MORE going on than Lexington. I'd actually have friends!

Le Travelogue d'Atlanta

2007-11-06T12:42:00.000-08:00

Friday
It took about 5 hours to get to my destination, once all the lovely maintenance on my car was done. Then another 20 minutes to get music and food for the road. (No road trip is complete without Led Zeppelin III. If you don't hit the interstate with a powerful ballad like "Immigrant Song" to get it going, then you don't really ever go anywhere.) The drive down was pretty eventless. When I got into town, I thought I'd take a detour and avoid an interstate that I thought would be jam-packed. That wound up getting me lost for a couple hours. I finally did make it to Matt and Steve's house around 7, and then their Halloween party started around 8:30ish. That was a pretty sweet gig. Met a lot of cool people, not sure if I got drunk--I was pretty alert most of the time--even while dancing. But I did down four beers--two Sam Adams winter lagers, a Shiner bock, and a PBR. Can't forget the smoothie with coconut rum, either! But yeah...none of it phased me--except for the bitter taste of the alcohol. Had to occasionally break that up with some Big K orange or cheese ball.

Saturday
Woke up around noon, hung out a bit at the house, then ventured out to eat at Savage Pizza in Little Five Points. The place was awesome--it was a comic-book themed place with great food. I had a calzone with green chiles, fresh basil, roasted garlic, andouille sausage, and white garlic sauce in it. Afterwards, Matt and I went to a couple record stores down the street--bought Roger Waters' Radio KAOS. In the other record store, there were signs up everywhere saying there was a free Mute Math concert there in the store THAT DAY. 3 PM! We look at our cell phone time--it's 4:11 PM, which explains why there's no Mute Math. Drat.

Later that night, we had another party--this time a birthday party for one of our friend's roommates. We knew there'd be cake, but probably not supper, so we figured on stopping at Church's on the way over. So we go through their drive-thru, pull up to the speaker and before we order--we're told how long it'll take. "It'll be 20 minutes before we have any chicken ready. The person in front of you just bought all the chicken." If you could've seen the look on our faces...it was one of the most priceless moments ever. Some person in the Explorer in front of us just bought a restaurant full of chicken! Yeah...nothing strange about that. So we went to Mrs Winner's about a block away and took that 20 minutes waiting for our food there instead. Once we make it to the party, we had cake, some draft cider, played some Trivial Pursuit and Wii, and left. So yeah, that was fun. Very fun.

More coming later...