gimme a brake...

This morning's commute started out pretty much as always...idiots on the road, tailgating SUV elitist bastards, flicking off anyone who had either a W sticker or drove a Hummer, thick black coffee, singing along to The Jayhawks at the top of my lungs. I enjoyed the scenic views of the crappier sections of Toledo while dodging the utterly endless barrage of semis. I found my exit, signaled, pulled into the exit lane, applied brakes.

...at least, I tried to apply brakes. The pedal had other ideas and sank to the floorboards. Suddenly, my life flacked before my eyes. I was assailed by a montage of scenes...a number of military bases...a selection of crappy cars...smelly bars...countless years spent making pizzas...bad paychecks...my horrible fashion choices...beer can pyramids...guitars I have loved yet stupidly sold...my cave-like high school...all the horribly awkward social situations that took place in my cave-like high school...hangovers...students with the "deer in the headlights" look...

I knew that I'd eventually get to the good stuff (starting with the Spousal Unit, my friends, and Myle's Pizza), but I didn't really have time...because the brakes finally started working. I got to campus safely, but boy, let me tell you, I most certainly increased my following distance. I also thought long and hard about how my life needs better writers...or at least a good cleaning.

on carnivores, magic, and trees

One of my favorite lines from comics is when John Wilder (a character from Warren Ellis's Planetary) talks about living for the rare moments when the world is different than advertised...more unusual, weirder, more mysterious, more magical.

The problem is that these moments don't come around very often. Usually, we get caught up in our routines. Lately, I am dealing with the end of a semester, and my thoughts turn to how the issues my students have never really seem to change; the paper topics are different, but that's about it. My job never really changes; since all I teach is freshman comp, there's little about my semesters that presents new challenges. I drive the same way to work each day, drink the same coffee, go to the same house in the same town I've lived in for the last nine years.

I hate negative change. It makes me think that the world, this existence, is a place of decline and repetition...and there's no magic in that.

So it makes me particularly happy when I get to see something unusual, something unexpected, something that reminds me that the world is still a place with great mysteries in store.

A while back, I read a news article about some carnivorous trees in India. Really. I've heard of carnivorous plants before, like the tres-cool Venus Flytrap, but these are on a whole other level. These have been seen trying to eat cows...yes, cows. Rumor has it that they have also grabbed humans.

Of course, I can't find a photo anywhere. But even though I can't see it, the very idea that these meat-eating trees exist excites me. There are new things out there to explore, to experience. Life throws a lot of stuff at us, and it's reassuring to find out that life can be stranger than any science fiction. It's cool that this kind of thing is out there, and it makes me want to broaden my experiences, find some more unusual stuff myself, personally experience more of the mysteries of life.

Doesn't the very idea of a man-eating tree just scream magic? Mystery? Wonder?

disturbing food trend

Americans think they have a special relationship to theme restaurants. After all, we are the culture which gives the world (or at least its tourists) such jems as Johnny Rockets (I wanna relive the fifties! Do I get race riots with that?) and Rainforest Cafe (I've always wondered if they regularly slash & burn their food). And people love these things. How many travelers will eat at a Bubba Gump Shrimp Company place while on vacation instead of hitting some hip local joint? How many people dream of having Hard Rock Cafe shirts from every country?

Well, folks, America has officially been one-upped. In Taiwan, some crafty businessmen run a chain called (no lie) Modern Toilet. It is a theme restaurant that's centered around...you guessed it...toilets. Toilet food bowls, toilet seats, toilet paper for napkins.

Personally, I'm relieved to find out that there are weirder people than us out there. However, the zenith of this concept would be if either Denny's or Taco Bell did a toilet theme. It would, seeing the quality of their respective food, be a natural fit. At any rate, it would at least speed up the process of eating their crap.

Every pun here was intended, by the way.

on cucumberophones...

I am weird. This should come as no surprise to those who know me, who take classes with me, who read this, or who have had any contact with me whatsoever. I am not, however, weird just for the sake of being weird. All of these moves, as Clouseau said, are carefully planned...I'm trying to evoke a specific reaction with my weirdness and am usually trying to make some kind of political statement (except for those things I just don't realize are weird).

But as a naturally/strategically weird person, I have a particular disdain for those who are just trying to be weird just to be weird. Why waste the opportunity to actually say something worthwhile, get people to reconsider some stereotypes, misconceptions, or innate assumptions?

It is with this in mind that I direct you towards the website of the Vienna Vegetable Orchestra. It is a group of musicians who (according to the website) "performs music solely on instruments made of vegetables. Using carrot flutes, pumpkin basses, leek violins, leek-zucchini-vibrators, cucumberophones and celery bongos."

This would be neat if it weren't for the fact that the music (at least according to the audio clips) is gawdawful. Why are they doing this? Are they just self-important blowhards? Overly arty people who should be force-fed playoff football and chicken wings?

One would think that they can't make a living doing this, but they have concerts scheduled in Hong Kong...so people actually go see them (and presumably pay to do so).

Maybe I should start hating their audience more than I hate them.

the battling midgets

Just ran across this article about a hockey brawl. Not news, right? Well, it was a game of eight year olds!

Strangely enough, though, I don't really read this as an "Everything that's wrong with sports in our era" article. The main screwed up thing about contemporary sports is its valorization of the "Look at me! Look at me!" attitude (see Susan Faludi for more of this). No, this is more "what's wrong with society. However, at least it wasn't the parents yelling and brawling this time, so it might be progress.

If there were ever a need for a YouTube video, it would be for this.

robots in space

Over at Wired, they have a photo gallery of behind the scenes images from Futurama. The show is back this week, starting with a direct to dvd feature which will be edited down for Comedy Central episodes. Frankly, this is long overdue. You bring back Family Guy before this brilliant show?

Futurama is everything good television should be: equally stupid and smart, escapist and political, approachable and unusual. Moreover, it's great US tv sci-fi (something I've ranted about before). My favorite aspect? The complete and utter disdain...no, active dislike...for authority and industry. Whenever tv shows go against corruption in society, that evil tends to be limited to government. Futurama would take on government (see the hilarious robotic Richard Nixon) but would equally skewer big business. Isn't Mom's Friendly Robot Company really just Wal-Mart in disguise?

If I wasn't so durn blame broke, I would be lining up for this.

I am increasingly arty

I came to the shocking realization that I am becoming an increasingly arty person...at least in my movie viewing habits.

The last three films I've seen (King of Kong, The Darjeeling Limited, and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford) have all been at the art cinema in town. I can't remember the last popular film I've seen.

Part of this isn't much of a surprise to me. After all, it's not like I go to see thousands of films (too busy and broke), so I'm naturally a little selective. However, I can't decide if I'm just stupidly anti-blockbuster (sorry, couldn't get excited over Saw 47) or turning into a film snob. I would like to just chalk it up to most mainstream movies sucking, but I'm not totally sure if I'm just doing that for my ego's sake.

My television viewing, however, still has dips of non-arty...although to be sure, I need to watch some more wrestling or something.

bumper wisdom

It's so hard to make a coherent, notable, or even entertaining statement in the space allotted in the average bumpersticker. Can anyone create something that is engaging and worthy of thought?

What does one say in the limited space of a car bumper? I've always hated the jingoistic (such as "Subvert the Dominant Paradigm" or "Take Back the Night") for their sheer unoriginality. Most bumper statements of nationalism simply scare me, and I mentally impose "love it or leave it" over any American flag sticker I see. Furthermore, I've never cared what charity you support or where your child is an honor student. Rednecky stickers can be briefly fun, but if you've seen one "Come Near Me And I'll Kill You," you've seen them all.

The ribbon manufacturers have been trying to get over the inherent limitations of space by going to symbolism (something I've written about here before), but they have more than run their course. Today, I passed a car with a dark blue ribbon, and I didn't even bother to tailgate to read it.

I'm not even going to get into the various things on which Calvin urinates.

Anyway, yesterday, I saw the only truly great bumpersticker I've seen in ages: "Jesus was my co-pilot...but we crashed in the Andes and I had to eat him to survive." It's both funny and offensive in more ways I can count!

Any personal faves on y'all's end?

PTA trailer

For those cinema buffs among my readers, here's the trailer to the new Paul Thomas Anderson film. It's been too long.

b movies

As previously chronicled here, last night was the B movie double feature, with 1964's The Last Man on Earth and 1954's Devil Girl from Mars at one of the local chains. How was it?

When I stepped up to the concessions to pick up my popcorn and drink (I've never trusted those who can watch a film without popcorn), the worker asked me what I was seeing. when I told him, he went on a mini-rant about seeing ads for a new Will Smith adaptation of I Am Legend, the book which The Last Man on Earth is based. He then bemoaned the fact that most films are either "remaking some old film or ripping off some Japanese film. Why can't Hollywood try to do anything original?"

Why indeed. While many people would be put off by hearing a clerk moan and complain, it kinda made me feel good, because it was obvious that this guy liked movies and cared about them. When we went into the theater, there was another worker who was asking the audience trivia questions about the night's films, and it was also clear that he was excited about being able to be part of something different.

It must be a real mixed blessing for a film buff to have to work at a theater. On the plus side, you get to see all those cool movies...but on the down side, most of them will suck. Do we, for instance, really need Saw 4? Furthermore, do we need it on three screens? Were there really that many unanswered questions from the previous three films? It seems that there are many film directors who just love recycling mediocre ideas more than trying something new (case in point: 2 Shanghai Nights films, 3 Rush Hours)...and I bet that no one knows that more than the movie theater workers.

The crowd was also into the films. Honestly, it was like living in MST3K...really fun. The films themselves? Last Man was kind of slow...30 minutes of setup is entirely too much. Devil Girl from Mars, though, was a perfect bad film. I won't spoil the plot for you, but in order to demonstrate the awesomeness of this movie, I'll leave you with one quote: "I'm a scientist...that means I believe what my brain tells me to believe."

Awesome.

Follow the Lights

When I first moved to Ohio, I was ready for a musical change, because I was losing faith in most of the things I used to listen to. What passed for heavy metal in the nineties was boring, predictable, and monotone. The grunge movement left me cold, and I got tired of having bad musicianship, nonsense lyrics, and moaning/whining singers being passed off as "cutting edge." Pop music was the same incomprehensible and unredeeming waste land it ever was...it always sounded like music for those who don't really like music...or at least don't want to think about it.

Luckily, though, a friend of mine had a slight evangelical streak, and he took pity on me by lending me a massive stack of alt country disks. I tore through Uncle Tupelo, sailed through the Jayhawks, and listened to a bunch of others. One listen in particular sticks out in my memory, however.

It was a bleak midwestern winter's night, snow everywhere, in the middle of a stretch of days where I'd seen nothing but dirty snow and gray skies. I was coming home from Toledo, and I grabbed one of my friend's cds...the only real reason why was that I liked their name. So, into the cd player went Whiskeytown's Stranger's Almanac.

I'd never heard music like this before. It didn't sound like any country I've ever heard...which had been mostly New Country/cheesy Poison-esque pop with fiddles. It had rock tendencies, but it didn't fall into any of the typical rock cliches. The lyrics were intelligent, poetic, and magical...I think I replayed "Houses on the Hill" three times on that ride home alone. The music didn't just sit there and repeat itself...it built, to great heights, to wonderful conclusions, as when "Waiting to Derail" left me zoney and drained, wondering if I just listened to a tune or instead fought a heavyweight fight.

I became an instant fan, of the genre more generally, but specifically of Whiskeytown. When I next saw my friend, I cornered him and would not let him go until he gave me everything Whiskeytown had ever done. At the time, though, it wasn't much....one earlier album, one solo album from the singer...but I got copies of each, and I particularly wore out the solo album: Ryan Adams' Heartbreaker.

I became a big Ryan fan. When he released his second album (the week of 9/11, in fact), I got it immediately. I dragged my spousal unit to a Ryan show all the way in Cleveland, and she became a convert as well. We've seen him several times, and while I know others who've had bad Ryan experiences which seem to drive them to an illogical level of disdain and hatred for someone who is, after all, a mere musician, every show we've ever seen has been golden.

Ryan quickly went on some weird recording/cd releasing trance/spree, flooding the market with disk after disk after disk. Some, such as Jacksonville City Nights, I instantly liked very much. Some I had to learn to like, such as Love is Hell. Some, like 29, I had to scan for good tracks and throw out the rest...but nothing ever hit me quite the way that Whiskeytown disk did.


Today, on my drive to work, I popped in his new ep, Follow the Lights. It was like I was transported to that first Stranger's Almanac experience. It's only seven songs, but every one of them is magnificent. Two songs are completely new to me, and they did sound wonderful, but it's the rest of the disk that blew me away. Ryan finally recorded one song ("My Love For You Is Real") which has popped in and out of his live shows for years, and this recording makes you wonder why the wait was necessary. There's an Alice in Chains cover that works surprisingly well as an alt-country song...it's one of those covers that make you think this is the way the song should've been recorded, not how it was originally done. The other three tracks are all covers of previously released Ryan Adams songs, but they're all surprising and new. "This is It" sounds like it was written as an alt-country song rather than the alt rock recording original. "If I Am A Stranger" is done in a slow Heartbreaker-esque style. "Dear John" becomes a piano gospel song. None of it, however, sounds forced. Actually, every song on here sounds like the ultimate version, like how the song was ultimately meant to be.

EPs are usually throwaways, but this might be my favorite cd of the year so far. At the very least, it's reminded me of why music is such a large part of my life. After listening to it on the drive into work, I walked from my car into my office with every track stuck in my head at once, and although I have tons of other cds, this one might have to just stay in the car cd player for a few months.

attack of the "B"s

I like Halloween, but my wife is a Halloween geek, though...she gets all excited, does her happy dance, and generally acts like a four year old. It's cute.

I feel the same way about bad movies. I love cheesy acting, cheesy writing. I love seeing people take themselves way too seriously.

Tonight, our two loves come together. A local multiplex cinema has been playing B-movie double features on Thursdays, and we finally get to go. Our films? 1964's The Last Man on Earth, with Vincent Price being pursued by alien zombies. The second film is Devil Girl from Mars! One of the taglines is "Invasion from Outer Space!...Sights too weird to imagine! Destruction too monstrous to escape!"

This will be good. Details to follow.

selling bad actors

In doing research for my Van Damme post, I ran across the Steven Seagal homepage. It's amazing in that not only does Seagal push his "acting" ability, he also calls himself an "accomplished musician," in addition to also selling his own energy drink (which is called...no lie...Stephen's Lightning Bolt). There are brief music clips, and it's much better than you'd expect...but then again, I had no expectations at all.

Compare this to the very amatureish Van Damme homepage. The best thing about this is that it has a Van Damme quiz...you can test your knowledge on the celebrity! Of course, the best thing about JCVD is the fan page http://www.vandamme.ru/, which has a hilarious selection of Van Damme wallpaper.

I know you're just dying to get the image of him doing karate splits...

Van Damme-it

Slate has a rather remarkable article which is paying homage to Jean-Claude Van Damme. If you have never seen a Van Damme movie, you don't know what you're missing...

Van Damme has a lot in common with Stephen Seagal...except Seagal is a much better actor. Van Damme can't show any emotion, growth, skills other than kicking people. And yet this man has been in 36 movies.

I should hate the man, but in spite of my sometimes elitism about popular culture, I kind of like really bad movies...and Van Damme has made a lot of them. However, he's never really sunk to the true level of dreck that makes a classic bad film.

Van Damme still has a ways to sink yet. He hasn't done the marvelously self-aware commercials that Seagal has. He hasn't made anything as classically hideous as Over the Top, Commando, or Road House.

When he really begins to bottom out, I might have to start liking him.

Halo 3 for God

The New York Times has an article on church groups using Halo 3 at their meetings. Personally, I find this fascinating. I wonder if their game play is any different, or it's just used as "kill aliens while I talk to you about God."

The possibilities are, of course, endless. You could specifically interpret the game as some gargantuo metaphor...are the aliens demons? (hey, they actually are demons in Doom) Is the game a great recreation of the crusades?

Are there any actual explicitly Christian video games out there? Any that incorporate the level of action as the average 1st person shooter? I smell a market niche...

(incidentally, you might've seen this story if you've been reading interwub postcards, my other blog...hint, hint)

worst product idea ever?

There is a company in Delaware which sells a product called The Back-Up. It is a rack that fits under your bed's mattress and holds either a shotgun or a rifle...the theory being that you might need to shoot someone without getting out of bed.

I can't begin to count the ways that this is a bad idea. The temptation is very strong to make a redneck joke, but I'm going to refrain. At any rate, it is this kind of product which is going to make the gun lobby look like a continuing joke in this country.

The best part of this? When the bedspread is down, it hides your weaponry! Be deadly and still have good decorating taste!

I've posted the demonstration video on Interwub Postcards.

a view of life after the collapse

Last Sunday, I was taking a shower, and I slipped (and no, this is not one of those "I've fallen and I can't get up" stories). Nothing serious, but I fell against one of the walls to regain my balance. And although I didn't hit the wall particularly hard (I expended about as much force as when someone falls into a couch after a busy day), the wall collapsed around me.

This was pretty shocking, although it was not as shocking as it could be. Like most rental properties, my house isn't the best maintained place in the world. The bathroom has a tremendous moisture problem, and this has led to a never-ending battle against mold, rotting walls, and places in the (old) shower where the tile grout had worn away. The wall I hit had tremendous water damage, and the backing material was very damp...and this is why my bathroom fell around me...not just because I need to lose weight.

So, I called the landlord, and they quickly dispatched one of their handymen, who came out and plastic-coated the wall in question. He was a nice guy, nicer than I would've been they had called me away from my house on a Sunday afternoon when football was on to help some moron who broke his shower, and he told us that him and his boss, when out to our place for an earlier service call, had noticed the water damage. This made me feel good...because I had vague fears of the landlords trying to take the expenses out of our deposit when we moved.

Anyway, he also told us that they would decide if they were going to re-tile or replace the whole unit, and someone would be over on Monday to start working. Monday came and went. Tuesday came and went. Finally, on Wednesday, they called me up to tell me that a contractor would be over on Thursday.

I got off work and pulled into my place around five on Thursday, and there was a construction van still there. When I talked to the workers, they told me that not only did they have to replace the tub and install a new surround, when they ripped out the old tub, they found puddles of water in the crawlspace. Also, they had to re-frame half of the bathroom because all of the wood under the tub was rotting. So, although they had been working all day, there were still gaps around the new surround where we could see the studs and insulation.

Friday morning, we were not able to use the shower because of the exposed stuff, so I had to settle for spot-cleaning: pits, feet, crotch, and stumbling into the kitchen so I could shampoo in the kitchen sink. It sucked beyond belief, and I couldn't help but think of the Monty Python sketch "The Golden Age of Ballooning":

Moreover, I felt an awful lot like a frontiersman...and in the spirit, I thought about going out and brushing my teeth with a sassafras twig or something.

They came the next day to do the drywall...well, at least start it. It is a process, they tell me, that will probably take most of this upcoming week, because they have to do several shots at the wall joints, and they plan to replace the flooring as well.

The new shower? I hate it like hot death. It's about 3 inches more narrow, which means I have to stand sideways. Worse, however, is the new "low flow" shower head they've installed, which makes me realize that my life is everyday becoming more and more an episode of Seinfeld:

In the end, however, the main effect of all of this is to make me reevaluate my life. I have friends who've moved onto tenure-track jobs. I have friends who are buying their own house (while I, on the other hand, can't imagine even being able to finance a used Kia). I have friends who have children, families, who are true and bona-fide adults.

Where am I? Standing amongst broken tiles, collapsed walls, breathing grout dust, wondering what I did to deserve a rotting bathroom.

ribbons

Eons ago, way back in the distant past (the 70s), there was a man called Tony Orlando who performed a song called "Tie A Yellow Ribbon Around the Old Oak Tree." It was an annoying little ditty about someone getting out of jail who was writing his wife, looking for a signal that he was wanted back (and hopefully, you can figure out what that signal was from the song title). At the time, it was not really a life-changing tune or concept.

This changed, however, in the late 70s-early 80s, when the Iranians stormed the US embassy and kidnapped its workers. Suddenly, the yellow ribbon became a sign of support and welcome for these hostages as they finally made their way home right as Ronald Reagan became president. There was at one time plans to wrap the Empire State Building in a giganto yellow ribbon as the hostages flew into New York, so they could see it from their plane...don't think they actually did it, though, and putting that sucker up would be one job I would not want.

Then our country invaded Iraq (first, because Saddam had "weapons of mass destruction" and then for a myriad of revolving reasons), and those damn yellow ribbons made another comeback, this time as car magnets. Although the explicit message is supposed to be "we support our troops," they actually say something along the lines of "Prez Bush II was right, and we should support him sending the Army anywhere he wants without questioning his infinite wisdom, because doing so would be unpatriotic"...at the very least, they seemed to have been sold in a multi-pack with those "W 04" stickers that still litter cars to this day.

Then everyone got in on the scam, and we started to see ribbons for AIDS (a worthy cause)...and Breast Cancer (again, worthy)...and then POWs, Autism, Child Abuse, and every other malady/misfortune you can imagine. They span the range of colors, from red to pink to plaid, and we now have to carry around a mental rolodex to figure out what cause the driver in front of us is trying to support. One wisenheimer company started manufacturing ribbons that simply said "One Nation Under Ribbons"...I liked that rare showing of irony.

The other day, I was driving to work, and the car in front of me had a white with black border ribbon magnet. I got closer so I could see the writing and figure out the cause...because this was a new one on me...and it said "I love my dachshund."

Do I even need to say that this has gone too far?

Tony Orlando, did you have any clue what madness you had wrought? If you knew your lame song would've ended up supporting everything from right wing politics to wiener dogs, would you still have released it? Do you feel shame or remorse? Can you sleep at night?

new ways to discriminate

Just ran across an article that some apartment complexes in Texas are refusing to rent to people who have extensive tattooing or multiple piercings. Apparently this policy is perfectly legal...but it's still pretty sad.

In a world where most people seem aware that outright racial prejudice and stereotyping are wrong (although not all...there are still schools that hold segregated proms), I'm always slightly disgusted at the new ways which people find to let their hateful sides out and be nasty to large chunks of the population for no apparent reason. This is just another example.

I'm not surprised, however. Every day when I walk around the campus where I teach, there's a great chance that I'll hear someone refer to someone they don't like as either "retarded" or "gay"...and every time I hear someone struggling for a new way to prejudge or oppress, as if they are actions necessary for life, I fear for the future of humanity a little more.

We've got a lot of work to do.

fall television review II--House season 4

Last year on House, the status quo changed nicely. This is something that this show is very good at doing. Season 2 ended up with House's shooting and "cure" of his bad leg. The leg went back to normal (meaning severe pain and disability), but the whole next season became about House's efforts to achieve normalcy in the rest of his life...through drugs, antidepressants, police harassment, and much else.

It ended cataclysmicaly, of course, with him losing his entire team. Rather than just applying the "quick fix" this season, though, the premiere promises to make "the quest for family/belonging and the haunting of the past" explicit themes for the rest of the year...but in a non-saccharine fun way, with sexual harassment and insults.

The episode ended with House auditioning a new team...out of 40+ candidates. This has the potential to stretch out for a while, and House does play well...albeit reluctantly...with groups. The "on next week's" segment brings back the old team, but in hallucinations...or alcoholic fever dreams, which I would prefer (imagine...if they were back but not really? for the WHOLE season?).

The writing was as sharp as ever. The House/Wilson interaction took on new levels, with House pulling the ultimate attack in a feud by breaking into Wilson's house and deleting tivo'd episodes of a reality show...personally, I'd kill whomever did this. And the House/Cuddy rivalry was also fun.

Line of the night?

Cuddy: Where did you come from?
House: Apes, if you believe what the Democrats say.

I need my House fix. I spent most of the summer working on a paper on this show, and even so, I was jonesing for the premiere...and it delivered the rush I expected, one I'm gonna have fun riding all season long.