Until a few days ago I had no idea that the letters BGC stood for anything particular in the medical community. You don’t hear them bantered about in everday discussion, and you never see a medical commercial on television with women walking around in flowing robes while dancing porpoises sing songs about BGC (then again, those ads for different medications never really seem to be about anything…). But that all changed two weeks ago when diabetes entered my life.
Oh, not me. I’m fine, thanks. My cat, Cecil, though…not so much. He’s diabetic.
I didn’t even know that cats could be diabetic. Again, no commercials or anything. But now I know that they are, and now I know that diabetes is a serious and confusing illness for felines.
Let’s go back a little bit.
A couple of weeks ago I took Cecil, a long-haired gray kitty, to the vet because he had been losing weight and was ravenously hungry all the time. I thought that he might have a stomach issue, or maybe even a problem with his thyroid, both of which I’ve had recent experience with thanks to another cat in the house. So, the vet ran the bloodwork and the results came back as diabetic.
This surprised the vet, as she said that he didn’t show any of the normal problems that led to diabetes in cats, namely being overweight and eating a dry-food diet. Cecil has always been reasonably trim and prefers to eat wet (also known as canned) food. Which is why they ran the test twice, and it came back with the same results both times.
So, I have a diabetic cat. “What’s next?” I asked the vet. Well, the answer was exactly what you would expect: he has to be given insulin injections. But there’s more…
It seems that cats don’t like to be diabetic. And, as cats are as independent as any animal in nature, they also hate to follow rules. So, the rules of diabetes are things that don’t sit well with cats, to the point where they will sometimes just spontaneously stop being diabetic. That’s right: they can cure themselves of diabetes.
I’m not done with Cecil, though. After his diagnosis, we had to take him in for his first blood glucose curve to determine what kind, what amounts, and what frequency he would get insulin. So far, so good.
It didn’t go well. Cecil’s body didn’t seem to like insulin. And he reacted poorly. His blood sugar went way out of whack and we had to take him to the Cobb Emergency Clinic, where he sat for almost five full days, the first four of which were on an insulin drip to get his blood under control. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the reason he had to go was due to the fact that he developed ketoacedosis, a malady that causes the body to start consuming muscle mass for sustenance. In other words, his body was eating itself to stay alive.
(I want to take a moment here to send out a huge thanks to both Bell’s Ferry Animal Hospital and the Cobb County Emergency Veterinary Clinic. Bell’s Ferry, and specifically Dr.’s Webb and Temple, took care of Cecil with amazing care to the point where they recognized that he needed care beyond what they could provide there, putting the welfare of the animal first; a wonderful thing to see. And then at the Cobb County Clinic, Cecil was given amazing care to the point that they encouraged us to come in to visit with him every day and to call at any time just to check on him. He looked a little like a science experiment with the tubes that were running in and out of him for a couple of days, but they let us back into the intensive care area where he was, and we sat outside his cage while they dealt with other sick animals. And what’s more, during that entire time, the folks at this very high-pressure Vet office kept a good attitude and a smile on their faces. Both facilities deserve all the praise they can be given.)
Once they got the ketone levels under control, and then got his blood sugar to respond properly to the insulin, they released him to come home. He looked horrible. He had lost so much weight and muscle mass that he literally looked like a cat skeleton with a furry skin pulled tight over it. He had no energy and could barely open his eyes.
I was concerned, to say the least.
But he has spirit, I think. He likes to be home, and he is eating like a champ again, and has put some of his weight back on. Last night he even jumped up and caught a moth that had flown into the room. It was a beautiful thing to see.
So, every day Cecil gets an insulin shot at 8:00 in the morning and 8:00 in the evening. It puts a bit of a strain on what she and I are able to do, seeing as how we have to be awake and at home at both of those times every day, but y’know what? We don’t mind. He’s worth it.
What does the future hold? Who knows. I expect Cecil to throw us a few more curves, but that's what we are expecting, and cats hate that, so it might be smooth sailing. Like I said: who knows? I do know that he will be back at Bell's Ferry next week for another Blood Glucose Curve to see how his body is taking to the insulin. Just looking at him, I know that it is better than the first time they checked.
And that whole BGC thing? It stands for Blood Glucose Concentration. It’s what the docs use to tell how out of whack is his blood sugar. The more you know…
Monday, August 27, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
The Saavy Shopper
I have been going about things all wrong.
Normally, I am the type of person who will research what they want to purchase, search around for the best price or deal on the decided product, and then make my purchase. And normally, I do these things either through the magic of the internet or at a store that specializes in such product. But why? Why am I going to all that trouble, when clearly there is a superior method.
I should just buy what they advertise on streetcorners.
That's right! The time-honored practice of advertising goods and services at a bust intersection is clearly what I should use to make my buying decisions! After all, for as long as I can remember in my forty-plus years I've been seeing things advertised by the marketing geniuses that have gone to all the trouble to put a sign in the dirt. Sometimes, they don't even put them in the dirt, but hire professionals to stand at the corner with a sign looking dapper and professional in order to inspire us to come into their place of business to spend copious amounts of money.
Oh, and it isn't just retail products that you can buy. Oh no!
You can get daycare service for your children, thus insuring nothing but the finest of upbringing for the fruit of your loins (not to be confused with the Fruit of the Looms, which would be at one of the other places advertised).
You can get healthcare services and advise. Worried about your health? So are the countless number of caring individuals that have gone to great lengths to get you to call their clearly posted phone number.
And housing? Well, what type of housing ISN'T advertised by the side of the road? And I'm not talking directions to a subdivision, either. I'm talking full-on home loans and direct offers to purchase homes for your ease of mind.
Not sure what you want to buy? Not a problem! Sometimes the people who put out these signs aren't clear on what they want to sell! Just look for a vague name and/or title with a phone number attached to it, and you will get that surprise shopping experience that you've been dreaming about.
In fact, I don't even know why I'm bothering to write this. If I want to get something out there that people will really notice, I need to break out my cardboard and markers--or if I'm feeling really daring, go to my local Kinko's to get something professionally created--and let the world know.
Viva Le Advertising Revolution!!
Normally, I am the type of person who will research what they want to purchase, search around for the best price or deal on the decided product, and then make my purchase. And normally, I do these things either through the magic of the internet or at a store that specializes in such product. But why? Why am I going to all that trouble, when clearly there is a superior method.
I should just buy what they advertise on streetcorners.
That's right! The time-honored practice of advertising goods and services at a bust intersection is clearly what I should use to make my buying decisions! After all, for as long as I can remember in my forty-plus years I've been seeing things advertised by the marketing geniuses that have gone to all the trouble to put a sign in the dirt. Sometimes, they don't even put them in the dirt, but hire professionals to stand at the corner with a sign looking dapper and professional in order to inspire us to come into their place of business to spend copious amounts of money.
Oh, and it isn't just retail products that you can buy. Oh no!
You can get daycare service for your children, thus insuring nothing but the finest of upbringing for the fruit of your loins (not to be confused with the Fruit of the Looms, which would be at one of the other places advertised).
You can get healthcare services and advise. Worried about your health? So are the countless number of caring individuals that have gone to great lengths to get you to call their clearly posted phone number.
And housing? Well, what type of housing ISN'T advertised by the side of the road? And I'm not talking directions to a subdivision, either. I'm talking full-on home loans and direct offers to purchase homes for your ease of mind.
Not sure what you want to buy? Not a problem! Sometimes the people who put out these signs aren't clear on what they want to sell! Just look for a vague name and/or title with a phone number attached to it, and you will get that surprise shopping experience that you've been dreaming about.
In fact, I don't even know why I'm bothering to write this. If I want to get something out there that people will really notice, I need to break out my cardboard and markers--or if I'm feeling really daring, go to my local Kinko's to get something professionally created--and let the world know.
Viva Le Advertising Revolution!!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
On Birds and Dogs
Let’s get this stated up front: I am an Atlanta Falcons fan. Have been for years. Years that pre-date the turn of the century.
Another thing up front: I like dogs. They are cute and fun to play with, and can be great companions.
Right now, as an Atlanta Falcons fan, I am very, very concerned. And yes, it all stems from Michael Vick.
Again, let’s get this out front: what Mike Vick is accused of doing is deplorable. It is inhumane and unfathomable by myself. And, as a Falcon’s fan, I am going to be very upset if he misses any games (as I am guessing that he will—if not all of them). And while I have enjoyed watching him on the field, and have always felt that when he was out there the Falcons had a better chance of winning, I am not a Mike Vick fan. I am an Atlanta Falcons fan. I will cheer for the team no matter who is playing quarterback.
Now, with all that said, the idiotic actions that occurred in Virginia that have led to an indictment against Michael Vick may be the worst thing that has happened to a professional sports franchise in my lifetime.
Let me explain.
It is a long-standing, non-written statement in Hollywood that you can kill as many people as you want in a movie, but you should never, ever kill a dog on screen. It turns the crowd against the film in a heartbeat.
That is because, as a species, we can forgive someone for killing, maiming, or otherwise harming an adult human. But killing a dog? That’s wrong. That’s unforgivable. That is the type of thing that creates animosity on an amazing level.
With that in mind, the accusations against Mike Vick not only reflect on him as a person, but ultimately on the Atlanta Falcons as an organization. Why? Because PETA can’t picket Mike Vick’s house and get the attention that they will if they picket the Georgia Dome. Because, whether or not Mike Vick is actually with the team this year, fans in other cities won’t get a chance to target Vick by holding up signs that condemn the team without the Falcons being there. The Falcons and their organization will be the target of reprisal for this indictment.
Now, let’s say that somehow Mike Vick gets acquitted. He is found not-guilty by a jury of his peers. What then?
Not much different from what will happen than if he is found guilty, in regards to the Falcons as a team. The team will pay the price either way—though it would be, undoubtedly, a more severe response if he is found guilty. But if he is found innocent, and he is on the field, there are going to be those that feel they got the verdict wrong. That he is guilty, and they will make their piece known. They will picket the games, they will raise their signs, and…well, who knows how bad they might get?
So, maybe the Falcons need to let Mike Vick go now?
It’s not that simple. Aside from the financial hit the team would take due to the way that the NFL structures payroll and cap limitations, until he is picked up by another team (an unlikely scenario at this time) he will still be associated with the Falcons. And every single game, whether at home or on the road, will carry the shadow of dog fighting over it. Every game will have the picketers, the signs, and the cat calls towards the team with or without Mike there. Whether he is on the team or not.
Simply put, there is no good that can come of this. This is a shadow that will haunt the team for years, and will cause more problems than anything else that has ever happened to the team.
And that is simply due to the fact that humans have a place for dogs that does, in fact, sit above the life of a human. There have been plenty of incidents against humans that have plagued NFL players, and they have all been forgiven. But none of them has ever had anything against a dog—at least not on this scale—until now.
Whether he is innocent or guilty, the actions or lack thereof by Michael Vick have cast a bleak shadow over the Atlanta Falcons for the foreseeable future.
And speaking as a person who once stood up and cheered when he made some of the amazing plays that only an athlete of his caliber could, I am sad today. I am sad that, due to the stupid actions of one person, my team is suffering from something that they don’t deserve.
My team, the Atlanta Falcons, have a black eye. And they didn’t even throw a punch.
Another thing up front: I like dogs. They are cute and fun to play with, and can be great companions.
Right now, as an Atlanta Falcons fan, I am very, very concerned. And yes, it all stems from Michael Vick.
Again, let’s get this out front: what Mike Vick is accused of doing is deplorable. It is inhumane and unfathomable by myself. And, as a Falcon’s fan, I am going to be very upset if he misses any games (as I am guessing that he will—if not all of them). And while I have enjoyed watching him on the field, and have always felt that when he was out there the Falcons had a better chance of winning, I am not a Mike Vick fan. I am an Atlanta Falcons fan. I will cheer for the team no matter who is playing quarterback.
Now, with all that said, the idiotic actions that occurred in Virginia that have led to an indictment against Michael Vick may be the worst thing that has happened to a professional sports franchise in my lifetime.
Let me explain.
It is a long-standing, non-written statement in Hollywood that you can kill as many people as you want in a movie, but you should never, ever kill a dog on screen. It turns the crowd against the film in a heartbeat.
That is because, as a species, we can forgive someone for killing, maiming, or otherwise harming an adult human. But killing a dog? That’s wrong. That’s unforgivable. That is the type of thing that creates animosity on an amazing level.
With that in mind, the accusations against Mike Vick not only reflect on him as a person, but ultimately on the Atlanta Falcons as an organization. Why? Because PETA can’t picket Mike Vick’s house and get the attention that they will if they picket the Georgia Dome. Because, whether or not Mike Vick is actually with the team this year, fans in other cities won’t get a chance to target Vick by holding up signs that condemn the team without the Falcons being there. The Falcons and their organization will be the target of reprisal for this indictment.
Now, let’s say that somehow Mike Vick gets acquitted. He is found not-guilty by a jury of his peers. What then?
Not much different from what will happen than if he is found guilty, in regards to the Falcons as a team. The team will pay the price either way—though it would be, undoubtedly, a more severe response if he is found guilty. But if he is found innocent, and he is on the field, there are going to be those that feel they got the verdict wrong. That he is guilty, and they will make their piece known. They will picket the games, they will raise their signs, and…well, who knows how bad they might get?
So, maybe the Falcons need to let Mike Vick go now?
It’s not that simple. Aside from the financial hit the team would take due to the way that the NFL structures payroll and cap limitations, until he is picked up by another team (an unlikely scenario at this time) he will still be associated with the Falcons. And every single game, whether at home or on the road, will carry the shadow of dog fighting over it. Every game will have the picketers, the signs, and the cat calls towards the team with or without Mike there. Whether he is on the team or not.
Simply put, there is no good that can come of this. This is a shadow that will haunt the team for years, and will cause more problems than anything else that has ever happened to the team.
And that is simply due to the fact that humans have a place for dogs that does, in fact, sit above the life of a human. There have been plenty of incidents against humans that have plagued NFL players, and they have all been forgiven. But none of them has ever had anything against a dog—at least not on this scale—until now.
Whether he is innocent or guilty, the actions or lack thereof by Michael Vick have cast a bleak shadow over the Atlanta Falcons for the foreseeable future.
And speaking as a person who once stood up and cheered when he made some of the amazing plays that only an athlete of his caliber could, I am sad today. I am sad that, due to the stupid actions of one person, my team is suffering from something that they don’t deserve.
My team, the Atlanta Falcons, have a black eye. And they didn’t even throw a punch.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
In Praise of Bad
I have a bad habit. Or rather, I have a habit of bad. Namely, I have a bad habit of watching bad movies. And let's make no mistake, I KNOW that some of the movies that I watch are bad. Very, very bad.
But there is something about those gawd-awful films that brings me back again and again. I take great delight in watching wretched acting and directing combine with a bad idea to become something special. It even predates my love of Mystery Science Theatre 3000 (one of the greatest television series in history, if you ask me), as I would drag my friends to the theatre to watch horrible films.
Now that isn't to say that I ONLY like bad films. Not even close. I love a well made, well acted, skillfully written film. I have an extensive DVD collection, and--with the exception of probably the Godzilla collection--they are all quality films in my mind.
So, if I'm not watching them on DVD where do I get the bad films that I enjoy? Why, from the Sci-Fi Channel, of course! Every Saturday night the Sci-Fi channel airs a new masterpiece of drek that keeps me entertained in it's amazing badness. Well, most of the time. Sometimes they air quality movies, and then sometimes...well, sometimes there are moments like the one I have to talk about.
A couple of weeks ago the Sci-Fi Channel debuted a film that they called Stan Lee's Harpies. Um...oh my gawd. I couldn't finish it. It was too bad. It was so bad that I didn't know what to mock. I didn't know where to laugh and where to just sit slack-jawed in shock. It was a movie so bad that it made the bad movies they show seem...good. The acting was deplorable. The directing was amaturish, at best. But it was really the writing that took this film to new lowes. The writing...no, wait, I have respect for writers; the word-assembler that constructed this "story" did an exceptional job of taking every hack premise and phrase and bringing them to a new low.
I really don't have a joke to make about it. Honestly, the movie was just that bad.
But I haven't given up hope. I know that somewhere out there Kevin Van Hook is working on another movie that will bring a smile to my face--just not in the way that he was hoping. But I'm a fan of Kevin's. I've seen The Fallen Ones probably six or seven times. And each time it gets sillier and more inane. And that's just fine for me.
But there is something about those gawd-awful films that brings me back again and again. I take great delight in watching wretched acting and directing combine with a bad idea to become something special. It even predates my love of Mystery Science Theatre 3000 (one of the greatest television series in history, if you ask me), as I would drag my friends to the theatre to watch horrible films.
Now that isn't to say that I ONLY like bad films. Not even close. I love a well made, well acted, skillfully written film. I have an extensive DVD collection, and--with the exception of probably the Godzilla collection--they are all quality films in my mind.
So, if I'm not watching them on DVD where do I get the bad films that I enjoy? Why, from the Sci-Fi Channel, of course! Every Saturday night the Sci-Fi channel airs a new masterpiece of drek that keeps me entertained in it's amazing badness. Well, most of the time. Sometimes they air quality movies, and then sometimes...well, sometimes there are moments like the one I have to talk about.
A couple of weeks ago the Sci-Fi Channel debuted a film that they called Stan Lee's Harpies. Um...oh my gawd. I couldn't finish it. It was too bad. It was so bad that I didn't know what to mock. I didn't know where to laugh and where to just sit slack-jawed in shock. It was a movie so bad that it made the bad movies they show seem...good. The acting was deplorable. The directing was amaturish, at best. But it was really the writing that took this film to new lowes. The writing...no, wait, I have respect for writers; the word-assembler that constructed this "story" did an exceptional job of taking every hack premise and phrase and bringing them to a new low.
I really don't have a joke to make about it. Honestly, the movie was just that bad.
But I haven't given up hope. I know that somewhere out there Kevin Van Hook is working on another movie that will bring a smile to my face--just not in the way that he was hoping. But I'm a fan of Kevin's. I've seen The Fallen Ones probably six or seven times. And each time it gets sillier and more inane. And that's just fine for me.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
A Rose...
I live less than a mile from The Transfiguration Catholic Church--or as I like to call it, The Transmogrification Church. On their marquee at the moment is their latest welcome aboard message for the ever-changing Priest club. (A Priest that I know once told me that they like to change out the staff about every year--I guess to keep God guessing who's going to be talking.)
In any case, the new marquee welcomes in their latest: Father Arcangel.
Oh yeah. That's a Priest name! It did make me wonder if he changed his name when he decided to enter the Seminary, or if it was one of those "born-to-be" situations. Kinda like naming a kid Jeeves, knowing that he only has the option to be a butler at that point.
What's more, with a name like that he's set up to go beyond the pulpit, and get really into the action. Think about it: Father Arcangel, Private Eye. Or maybe he's a movie-style action hero, fighting the good fight in the name of the Catholic Church. Kinda like Indiana Jones, but with a more Pope-influenced mission to his adventures.
Or he could be a super-hero in his spare time! Holy fill-in-the-blank wouldn't even seem vaguely out of place. And with that name, he could be right out of the Silver or Golden Age. Jack Kirby could have fit Father Arcangel into his Fourth World stuff and not even hiccupped.
It is also possible that the obvious has happened. God has sent an angel down to lead his flock at this particular church. Of course, you would think that God would be a little more creative in a name, but hey, who am I to judge. If that's the case, though, I do expect some of my property rates to go up, what with the proximity to angelic proof and what.
I would like to further the efforts of The Transmogrification Church, and extend a hearty hand of welcome to Father Arcangel. No matter what the scenario that brought this magnificently named, true white-collar worker into our midst, just knowing that I have a would-be action superstar/private eye/ heavenly messenger so close to my home will help me sleep a little better tonight.
So to you, Father Arcangel: Mazel Tov.
In any case, the new marquee welcomes in their latest: Father Arcangel.
Oh yeah. That's a Priest name! It did make me wonder if he changed his name when he decided to enter the Seminary, or if it was one of those "born-to-be" situations. Kinda like naming a kid Jeeves, knowing that he only has the option to be a butler at that point.
What's more, with a name like that he's set up to go beyond the pulpit, and get really into the action. Think about it: Father Arcangel, Private Eye. Or maybe he's a movie-style action hero, fighting the good fight in the name of the Catholic Church. Kinda like Indiana Jones, but with a more Pope-influenced mission to his adventures.
Or he could be a super-hero in his spare time! Holy fill-in-the-blank wouldn't even seem vaguely out of place. And with that name, he could be right out of the Silver or Golden Age. Jack Kirby could have fit Father Arcangel into his Fourth World stuff and not even hiccupped.
It is also possible that the obvious has happened. God has sent an angel down to lead his flock at this particular church. Of course, you would think that God would be a little more creative in a name, but hey, who am I to judge. If that's the case, though, I do expect some of my property rates to go up, what with the proximity to angelic proof and what.
I would like to further the efforts of The Transmogrification Church, and extend a hearty hand of welcome to Father Arcangel. No matter what the scenario that brought this magnificently named, true white-collar worker into our midst, just knowing that I have a would-be action superstar/private eye/ heavenly messenger so close to my home will help me sleep a little better tonight.
So to you, Father Arcangel: Mazel Tov.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Movie Stuff
I saw Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer today. Like most of the people that I know, I enjoyed it. I liked it at least as much as the first one, and possibly a little bit more. It's always hard to tell that sort of thing right as you walk out of a movie; I feel I can judge where it sits in scope a few weeks from now as I've let it digest in my memory.
The changes that they made to the story were perfectly understandable, and I feel that the movie overall had a very solid pace and structure to it. Not too many pitfalls, and the ones that were there didn't drag me out of the movie (unlike any of the "blockbuster" films that have been released to date this year). After talking to my friend Cliff, he cited that he thought the new FF film was an A-Class B-movie, unlike several B-Class A-Movies that are out, such as Spider-Man 3 (a film that I didn't hate, but it didn't live up to the first two--not by a long shot).
But that's not really what I wanted to talk about...
You might have noticed a video-presentation that happens in front of movies these days. It's little more than ads for upcoming films, television series, or whatever any advertisers pay to show on the screen before a movie. The productions are slick, and the ads are as innocuous as anything you would see on TV, and just as easy to ignore. (Though on a quick side-note, I will say that between the trailers, movie ads, and voluminous television ads, I don't think that I'm going to go see Evan Almighty. I was GOING to, because I like Steve Carell, but at this point I don't think that there is anything left to be revealed in the film. I'll wait for DVD or TV.)
One of the things that has bugged me about one of those video presentations is simply this: the title. I don't know if you have it in your part of the world, but here we have one called The 20-wenty. Yeah, you read right. The 20-wenty. This trend in graphic design bugs me. Sure, I understand that the name of the piece is "The Twenty" in the minds of the people that made it, but that isn't what it says. It clearly has the number "20" followed by the letters w-e-n-t-y. The 20-wenty.
It reminds me that we are living in an era where people can't spell because they "text" to many messages. They only know shorthand. And now those people have moved into the professional field, and they are bringing their habits with them. It's not a new trend, and one that is sure to fade--I hope and pray--over time, but for right now it's the trend, and it's one that I could live without. I hope that the whole "texting" craze dies soon, too. I hate watching people type letters that mean words during a movie. It just seems...rude.
Guess I'm old, but all those thoughts just rambled through my mind today while sitting in a movie theater with friends.
LOL
...aw damn...
The changes that they made to the story were perfectly understandable, and I feel that the movie overall had a very solid pace and structure to it. Not too many pitfalls, and the ones that were there didn't drag me out of the movie (unlike any of the "blockbuster" films that have been released to date this year). After talking to my friend Cliff, he cited that he thought the new FF film was an A-Class B-movie, unlike several B-Class A-Movies that are out, such as Spider-Man 3 (a film that I didn't hate, but it didn't live up to the first two--not by a long shot).
But that's not really what I wanted to talk about...
You might have noticed a video-presentation that happens in front of movies these days. It's little more than ads for upcoming films, television series, or whatever any advertisers pay to show on the screen before a movie. The productions are slick, and the ads are as innocuous as anything you would see on TV, and just as easy to ignore. (Though on a quick side-note, I will say that between the trailers, movie ads, and voluminous television ads, I don't think that I'm going to go see Evan Almighty. I was GOING to, because I like Steve Carell, but at this point I don't think that there is anything left to be revealed in the film. I'll wait for DVD or TV.)
One of the things that has bugged me about one of those video presentations is simply this: the title. I don't know if you have it in your part of the world, but here we have one called The 20-wenty. Yeah, you read right. The 20-wenty. This trend in graphic design bugs me. Sure, I understand that the name of the piece is "The Twenty" in the minds of the people that made it, but that isn't what it says. It clearly has the number "20" followed by the letters w-e-n-t-y. The 20-wenty.
It reminds me that we are living in an era where people can't spell because they "text" to many messages. They only know shorthand. And now those people have moved into the professional field, and they are bringing their habits with them. It's not a new trend, and one that is sure to fade--I hope and pray--over time, but for right now it's the trend, and it's one that I could live without. I hope that the whole "texting" craze dies soon, too. I hate watching people type letters that mean words during a movie. It just seems...rude.
Guess I'm old, but all those thoughts just rambled through my mind today while sitting in a movie theater with friends.
LOL
...aw damn...
Friday, June 08, 2007
Thunder, Thunder, Thunder...
It was announced this week that the 1980's cartoon The Thundercats was optioned for a feature film. Much has been made of whether the film will be live action or CGI animation, but nothing has been discussed about the STYLE of the film. Therefore I have a simple suggestion that can change the whole outlook for the film:
Andrew Lloyd Webber's Thunder-Cats.
Think about it. We can have such wonderful characters as Mr. Mestopholiono. Or the Rum Tum Tigra. Or Jellical Snark.
And the songs! The songs could be amazing. Songs like Old Jagarotomy. The Naming of Thundercats. Slitheshanks the Railway Mutant. And everyone would tear up at the singing of Mumm-ra-ies.
You know you want this.
Andrew Lloyd Webber's Thunder-Cats.
Think about it. We can have such wonderful characters as Mr. Mestopholiono. Or the Rum Tum Tigra. Or Jellical Snark.
And the songs! The songs could be amazing. Songs like Old Jagarotomy. The Naming of Thundercats. Slitheshanks the Railway Mutant. And everyone would tear up at the singing of Mumm-ra-ies.
You know you want this.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Gone Too Soon
I was cleaning my house today, and at one point I cleaned one of my bookshelves with graphic novels on it. One of the books on the shelf was Reality Check by Rikki Simons and Tavisha Wolfgarth-Simons, a delightful comic about a virtual reality game world and the people that play in it. Mostly, though, it is about a cat that plays in that game world.
The two folks that created the series could have taken the book down a bad path with the boy who owns the cat (Collin) and the cat (Catreece)--who naturally turns out to be a cute cat-girl in the virtual reality world--with the two of them hooking up romantically. But they don't. The book takes the high road and it deals with Collin having to deal with keeping it a secret that his friend Catreece in the VR world is his cat in the real world.
It is a comedic delight, with wonderful social awkward moments designed to amuse. And what's more, it also has some great characters. All in all, a great read.
The two Simons who created the series work as Studio Tavicat, and they have other books that are equally entertaining, but to be honest, I miss Reality Check. I miss the characters they created there.
And it made me think that there are too many comics that went before their time, or worse, were forgotten before they ever had a time. So, this is the start of what will be a semi-recurring series of posts about comics that I wish were still around.
And I have a cat in a VR helmet to thank for the idea.
The two folks that created the series could have taken the book down a bad path with the boy who owns the cat (Collin) and the cat (Catreece)--who naturally turns out to be a cute cat-girl in the virtual reality world--with the two of them hooking up romantically. But they don't. The book takes the high road and it deals with Collin having to deal with keeping it a secret that his friend Catreece in the VR world is his cat in the real world.
It is a comedic delight, with wonderful social awkward moments designed to amuse. And what's more, it also has some great characters. All in all, a great read.
The two Simons who created the series work as Studio Tavicat, and they have other books that are equally entertaining, but to be honest, I miss Reality Check. I miss the characters they created there.
And it made me think that there are too many comics that went before their time, or worse, were forgotten before they ever had a time. So, this is the start of what will be a semi-recurring series of posts about comics that I wish were still around.
And I have a cat in a VR helmet to thank for the idea.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Whither John Hughes?...
I recently read an article that commented about the "musical wasteland" of the 1980's--and I will deal with that comment another time--and it brought to mind a single image, centered around a single song. Oddly enough, when I think of something that typifies the look and sound of the 1980's, I don't go punk, I go to high school--probably because that's when I was in high school.
If I bring up the song "Don't You Forget About Me" by Simple Minds, what do you think about? I imagine, if you are over the age of, say, 35, you think about Judd Nelson raising one fist over his head in an odd act of defiance. The closing scene in the coming-of-age 1980's classic, The Breakfast Club.
The Breakfast Club was the second movie directed by John Hughes, who had more than a small share of directorial success. Along with the aforementioned film, he also directed Sixteen Candles, Weird Science, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, She's Having a Baby, Uncle Buck and Curly Sue. And that's it. That's his entire directorial resume. And I saw all but one of those movies, that being Curly Sue, in the theater.
That is a rather impressive list of films to have under your belt, but it's also surprising. Curly Sue, the last film that Hughes directed, came out in 1991.
Why? What happened that caused him to stop directing? It's not that he hasn't been involved at all with films; Hughes is still writing plenty of movies, including one, Drillbit Taylor, that is due out in 2008. And he has produced some others that were big hits, including the Home Alone and Beethoven series of films.
But I miss his directing style. I miss the way that he tells a story visually. And I miss the way that he blended a movie with the soundtrack. He probably wasn't the first to do so, but I always seem to link the modern music soundtrack of original songs with Hughes.
And with that, an open plea to John Hughes:
John--can I call you John?--would you please think about directing a new movie? I know that I'm not the teenager that I once was, and that you have grown some since then, too, but I think that it would be great for you to do a movie about that same generation of people today. What the teens from the 1980's are doing now. I can't think of anyone else better for the job. Thanks for listening.
In the meantime, I'll just continue to hum Simple Minds and hold a fist in the air.
If I bring up the song "Don't You Forget About Me" by Simple Minds, what do you think about? I imagine, if you are over the age of, say, 35, you think about Judd Nelson raising one fist over his head in an odd act of defiance. The closing scene in the coming-of-age 1980's classic, The Breakfast Club.
The Breakfast Club was the second movie directed by John Hughes, who had more than a small share of directorial success. Along with the aforementioned film, he also directed Sixteen Candles, Weird Science, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, She's Having a Baby, Uncle Buck and Curly Sue. And that's it. That's his entire directorial resume. And I saw all but one of those movies, that being Curly Sue, in the theater.
That is a rather impressive list of films to have under your belt, but it's also surprising. Curly Sue, the last film that Hughes directed, came out in 1991.
Why? What happened that caused him to stop directing? It's not that he hasn't been involved at all with films; Hughes is still writing plenty of movies, including one, Drillbit Taylor, that is due out in 2008. And he has produced some others that were big hits, including the Home Alone and Beethoven series of films.
But I miss his directing style. I miss the way that he tells a story visually. And I miss the way that he blended a movie with the soundtrack. He probably wasn't the first to do so, but I always seem to link the modern music soundtrack of original songs with Hughes.
And with that, an open plea to John Hughes:
John--can I call you John?--would you please think about directing a new movie? I know that I'm not the teenager that I once was, and that you have grown some since then, too, but I think that it would be great for you to do a movie about that same generation of people today. What the teens from the 1980's are doing now. I can't think of anyone else better for the job. Thanks for listening.
In the meantime, I'll just continue to hum Simple Minds and hold a fist in the air.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Native America
Today, my wife, myself, and two of our dear friends went to the 18th Annual Cherokee County Indian Festival and Pow-Wow. Besides having a very long title, this annual event is a display of Native American arts and crafts, along with cultural education and a display of traditional Native American dancing, drumming and storytelling. It was a lot of fun, and a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
But that's not why I'm telling you this.
My wife has issues with dead animals. Not like you think, but rather with the body parts that she leaves behind. As we were wandering the booths we saw plenty of beautiful jewelery, striking clothes, tacky clothes (don't want to deceive and make you think that EVERYTHING was nice...), some cool artwork, some tacky artwork, and even hand-crafted flutes and drums. Our friend Heather was very happy with some of the jewelery, and even suggested to her beau that the $300.00 necklace that was there would look fabulous on her; he agreed and then quickly went to the next booth. My wife, too, saw jewerly that she really liked, but it didn't evoke the same response.
What got her to respond was the coyote skin.
A full coyote pelt that was sitting out in the sun, and still had a couple of bones sticking out of the legs to keep the feet properly shaped. Her eyes got wide and she checked it out all over, just desperate to take the thing home. Unfortunately, like with Heather's would-be necklace, the price made me move on to the next booth.
But that was really just the beginning. The knowledge that there was one coyote pelt at the festival was enough to get looking for more. And, in fact, there was. The next to last booth that we checked out, the one right next to the clog-free gutter booth--what they were doing there, we don't have a clue--had a more affordable piece of coyote. So, we came home this afternoon with a coyote face and some teeth. These items now proudly sit on our mantle, awaiting a more permanant home.
Now, before anyone gets too ruffled about her taking home some dead animal parts, let me explain that she is, in fact, 1/4 Native American herself, and she holds these things in VERY high regard. In fact, while we were looking at the whole pelt the man working the booth started to explain to her the significance of the coyote, which she quickly picked up and started expounding upon greatly. Our friend, Mike, turned to me and said, "he didn't know who he was talking to, did he?"
On another front, but still animal related, there was an exhibit of many birds of prey at the festival. Hawks, kestrels, and falcons took center stage, while a parrot sat over to the side with that "hey, I'm pretty mean to pieces of fruit!" look on his face. And being a fan of not only birds of prey, but also the Atlanta Falcons, I was pretty jonesed to see the falcons there. I've seen plenty of hawks, but the falcons (and the kestrel, too) were new to me at such a close viewing.
They were beautiful animals, but I felt bad for them. It was a hot day, and one of hawks out in the sun seemed to be panting. I wanted to get them something to drink, until I saw that there were large saucers of clean water right next to them, as you can see in the photo. But still...
So, in short, it was an interesting day of both living and dead animals for us. I left with memories and some cool photos, but my wife, she brought home a face. And what more can you ask than having face in today's society?
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
On Good and Evil
I will start this post with the statement that I have never seen any episode of The Sopranos, nor do I plan to ever do so.
This past Sunday I went and saw Spider-Man 3. Not a great movie, but not a horrible one, either--but that's not what I want to talk about. Spoiler alert for those that haven't seen the movie.
At one point in the movie, after Peter Parker has gone "dark", he goes to confront Harry Osborne. To make it short, Pete beats the daylights outta Harry, who admitedly, isn't the nicest guy in the world and sort of brings it on himself. And after Harry has had the tar beat out of him, he tries one last-ditch attack on Pete, who turns the attack around to have a bomb blow up in Harry's face. Kinda harsh, but then it gets worse because of the attitude that Pete has as he walks off mocking Harry's pain and disfigurement. That's bad. That's really bad, and not vaguely heroic. And the worst thing that happened during the entire movie happened at that point: several people in the crowd cheered.
They were happy to see an "evil" Peter Parker attack and disfigure a man that was called Pete's best friend not half-an-hour earlier.
The other day, while listening to the radio, two of the radio personalities were discussing The Sopranos. I don't recall the exact events that led up to the statement, but one of the people in the show was referred to as not being a "nice person". The other individual stated that none of the characters on the show were nice people. They were all criminals, killers and not exactly upstanding examples of society. The first person said, "well, that's not true of Tony. He's just a regular guy." His partner sounded shocked. He again pointed out that Tony Soprano was a criminal who had killed many people. He was a killer, and not a nice person at all. But the Tony supportist was unwavering, stating that Tony was just a guy like any other, and he was just doing his job. They are the perfect example of what I want to talk about.
Only half of the people in the world get it.
There is a significant portion of the populace who see The Sopranos as "cool". It turns someone horrible--a killer in this instance--into someone that you cheer for. Someone that you think is admirable. Just a regular guy, doing his job.
I'm not saying that The Sopranos is a poorly executed show. Again, I've never seen it. But I have seen the evidence that it, and things like it--things like the movie Scarface, the Grand Theft Auto videogame series, and The Shield--have done with society. It's made the evil guy the good guy. Someone and something to cheer about.
Perhaps we've brought it on ourselves. We've let our need for sensation run rampant to the point where we need a bigger and bigger high to get the same thrill, to the point where only the bad guy is really cool enough to watch. Maybe that's it. But I really don't think that's it entirely. I've played lots of videogames. I've watched lots of movies and TV shows. I've got tons of rock-and-roll that I listen to. And yet, I don't see the light in the dark.
In truth, I just think that we've let things get out of control from a personal perspective. We all control what we do and how we let outside influences affect us. The people who are making these things are just reflecting what they see in society, not the other way around.
Maybe I'm wrong, and maybe people aren't that way. Maybe I'm mis-reading it completely. But I don't feel that way.
I'm in the half that didn't cheer Peter Parker going bad.
This past Sunday I went and saw Spider-Man 3. Not a great movie, but not a horrible one, either--but that's not what I want to talk about. Spoiler alert for those that haven't seen the movie.
At one point in the movie, after Peter Parker has gone "dark", he goes to confront Harry Osborne. To make it short, Pete beats the daylights outta Harry, who admitedly, isn't the nicest guy in the world and sort of brings it on himself. And after Harry has had the tar beat out of him, he tries one last-ditch attack on Pete, who turns the attack around to have a bomb blow up in Harry's face. Kinda harsh, but then it gets worse because of the attitude that Pete has as he walks off mocking Harry's pain and disfigurement. That's bad. That's really bad, and not vaguely heroic. And the worst thing that happened during the entire movie happened at that point: several people in the crowd cheered.
They were happy to see an "evil" Peter Parker attack and disfigure a man that was called Pete's best friend not half-an-hour earlier.
The other day, while listening to the radio, two of the radio personalities were discussing The Sopranos. I don't recall the exact events that led up to the statement, but one of the people in the show was referred to as not being a "nice person". The other individual stated that none of the characters on the show were nice people. They were all criminals, killers and not exactly upstanding examples of society. The first person said, "well, that's not true of Tony. He's just a regular guy." His partner sounded shocked. He again pointed out that Tony Soprano was a criminal who had killed many people. He was a killer, and not a nice person at all. But the Tony supportist was unwavering, stating that Tony was just a guy like any other, and he was just doing his job. They are the perfect example of what I want to talk about.
Only half of the people in the world get it.
There is a significant portion of the populace who see The Sopranos as "cool". It turns someone horrible--a killer in this instance--into someone that you cheer for. Someone that you think is admirable. Just a regular guy, doing his job.
I'm not saying that The Sopranos is a poorly executed show. Again, I've never seen it. But I have seen the evidence that it, and things like it--things like the movie Scarface, the Grand Theft Auto videogame series, and The Shield--have done with society. It's made the evil guy the good guy. Someone and something to cheer about.
Perhaps we've brought it on ourselves. We've let our need for sensation run rampant to the point where we need a bigger and bigger high to get the same thrill, to the point where only the bad guy is really cool enough to watch. Maybe that's it. But I really don't think that's it entirely. I've played lots of videogames. I've watched lots of movies and TV shows. I've got tons of rock-and-roll that I listen to. And yet, I don't see the light in the dark.
In truth, I just think that we've let things get out of control from a personal perspective. We all control what we do and how we let outside influences affect us. The people who are making these things are just reflecting what they see in society, not the other way around.
Maybe I'm wrong, and maybe people aren't that way. Maybe I'm mis-reading it completely. But I don't feel that way.
I'm in the half that didn't cheer Peter Parker going bad.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Caution: Here There Be Dragon No More
It was announced a couple of days ago that both Dungeon and Dragon magazines were coming to an end. If you don't play role-playing games, that really doesn't seem like a big deal, but to those of us that are big-time gamers, it's a sad passing.
I haven't played Dungeons and Dragons for years. I've flirted with coming back with the release of 3.0 and 3.5, but to date I haven't made it back for anything but an occassional game or two. There are other games that have held my attention more.
But those magazines have still caught my eye every month. I don't always read them, but I always look through them. It takes me back to when I was in high school and first was introduced to role-playing. When every issue was something exciting and new, and inevitably everyone would try to incorporate what was in the issue almost immediately in the game. But there wasn't as much material available then, so each and every thing they added was precious.
Things today are not the same. The material from Wizards of the Coast is ten-fold everything that was available 25 years ago when I first started playing D&D, and there is plenty of additional material coming out from third-party companies every month. Both Dungeon and Dragon became specialty magazines, with each issue focusing on a niche aspect of the game, trying to flesh it out completely. But I don't know if that's what has brought about their demise.
Dungeons and Dragons still sells very well. And both Dungeon and Dragon magazine have strong sales from what I can determine talking to distributors. So I can't say what caused them to lose their place on the shelves. Paizo Publishing is planning to release a new magazine called Pathfinder that will be, well, expensive. And it's said that Dragon Magazine will continue using an online model...but it won't be the same.
No longer will there be that made rush through a stack of magazines to find the write-up on the Anti-Paladin. You won't be scanning over every page looking for the last hidden "Growf" that Phil Foglio drew.
And what's more, it seems to be an indication to me that the RPG industry really is heading down an online road, aimed at a smaller and smaller audience of people who appreciate the social and creative aspects of the game.
So, to Dungeon magazine: farewell, and good luck. To Dragon Magazine: good-bye old friend, I wish that we could have had more time together, even though we've grown apart some in the past couple of decades...or so.
I haven't played Dungeons and Dragons for years. I've flirted with coming back with the release of 3.0 and 3.5, but to date I haven't made it back for anything but an occassional game or two. There are other games that have held my attention more.
But those magazines have still caught my eye every month. I don't always read them, but I always look through them. It takes me back to when I was in high school and first was introduced to role-playing. When every issue was something exciting and new, and inevitably everyone would try to incorporate what was in the issue almost immediately in the game. But there wasn't as much material available then, so each and every thing they added was precious.
Things today are not the same. The material from Wizards of the Coast is ten-fold everything that was available 25 years ago when I first started playing D&D, and there is plenty of additional material coming out from third-party companies every month. Both Dungeon and Dragon became specialty magazines, with each issue focusing on a niche aspect of the game, trying to flesh it out completely. But I don't know if that's what has brought about their demise.
Dungeons and Dragons still sells very well. And both Dungeon and Dragon magazine have strong sales from what I can determine talking to distributors. So I can't say what caused them to lose their place on the shelves. Paizo Publishing is planning to release a new magazine called Pathfinder that will be, well, expensive. And it's said that Dragon Magazine will continue using an online model...but it won't be the same.
No longer will there be that made rush through a stack of magazines to find the write-up on the Anti-Paladin. You won't be scanning over every page looking for the last hidden "Growf" that Phil Foglio drew.
And what's more, it seems to be an indication to me that the RPG industry really is heading down an online road, aimed at a smaller and smaller audience of people who appreciate the social and creative aspects of the game.
So, to Dungeon magazine: farewell, and good luck. To Dragon Magazine: good-bye old friend, I wish that we could have had more time together, even though we've grown apart some in the past couple of decades...or so.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
A Brush With Greatness
Due to actions beyond my control, I have been dealing with a lot of Conan lately. Savage Sword of Conan, actually. If you want to know why, check out Cliff and Charles' blogs.
But in any case, while dealing with these magazines, I had a moment of reflection. About comic art, so don't think I was getting deep or anything.
Specifically, I thought about Alex Ross. Not because of all the work he did for Savage Sword, because to the best of my knowledge, he didn't do any, but rather about how he is currently the end-all of comic painters. He wasn't the first, and he won't be the last.
In fact, I saw the work of three of his more noted predecesors on the pages of those magazines. And it pretty much reflected three decades worth of comic painters in one series.
For the 1990's we had the work of Joe Jusko. Joe did some fine work, filled with bright colors and neo-classical design. But, I am sad to say, there was nothing about Joe's work that spoke to me. I found him technically good, but uninspired. But I was obviously in the minority, as he garnered a world of fans that had him up on the highest pedestal.
For the 1980's there was Bill Sienkiewicz. That's pronounced "Bill" for those wondering (as he once told me himself). Now I was, and remain, a huge fan of this man's work. It shows passion and design, along with an understanding of storytelling in his panel-to-panel work and dynamicism in his stand-alone paintings. I have always wanted to own one of his painted originals, and perhaps one day will. I already have some of his black and white linework, so that's a start. But I digress...Bill was very popular, but had much more of a schism to his following, as it seemed just as many people hated his stuff as loved it. To me though, it's brilliant.
And for the 1970's we have Richard Corben. Corben's airbrush style landed him at the top of the comic game for a while, and also brought him to the attention of the marketing industry as his work appeared on any number of books, albums, and whatnot. His style was always hit-or-miss for me, with some pieces looking brilliant and others horribly deformed, but in his day he was king of comic painters.
Now, this is far from a complete list. There have been a wealth of painters who have made significant contributions to the comic field. Some guy named Frazetta leaps to mind. But this is me talking about the three folks whose work struck out at me from the cover of Conan, and what they are in my mind.
And all three of these people are still active in the comic community. They still produce work for companies, and there are still folks who are thrilled to see their work. But they aren't the top dog anymore. That's where Alex Ross sits. Ross' near photo-realistic styling has people ooh-ing and ahh-ing left and right--for now. But there will come a time when he will fade. Someone else will come along and he will thrown out like yesterday's guache.
But in any case, while dealing with these magazines, I had a moment of reflection. About comic art, so don't think I was getting deep or anything.
Specifically, I thought about Alex Ross. Not because of all the work he did for Savage Sword, because to the best of my knowledge, he didn't do any, but rather about how he is currently the end-all of comic painters. He wasn't the first, and he won't be the last.
In fact, I saw the work of three of his more noted predecesors on the pages of those magazines. And it pretty much reflected three decades worth of comic painters in one series.
For the 1990's we had the work of Joe Jusko. Joe did some fine work, filled with bright colors and neo-classical design. But, I am sad to say, there was nothing about Joe's work that spoke to me. I found him technically good, but uninspired. But I was obviously in the minority, as he garnered a world of fans that had him up on the highest pedestal.
For the 1980's there was Bill Sienkiewicz. That's pronounced "Bill" for those wondering (as he once told me himself). Now I was, and remain, a huge fan of this man's work. It shows passion and design, along with an understanding of storytelling in his panel-to-panel work and dynamicism in his stand-alone paintings. I have always wanted to own one of his painted originals, and perhaps one day will. I already have some of his black and white linework, so that's a start. But I digress...Bill was very popular, but had much more of a schism to his following, as it seemed just as many people hated his stuff as loved it. To me though, it's brilliant.
And for the 1970's we have Richard Corben. Corben's airbrush style landed him at the top of the comic game for a while, and also brought him to the attention of the marketing industry as his work appeared on any number of books, albums, and whatnot. His style was always hit-or-miss for me, with some pieces looking brilliant and others horribly deformed, but in his day he was king of comic painters.
Now, this is far from a complete list. There have been a wealth of painters who have made significant contributions to the comic field. Some guy named Frazetta leaps to mind. But this is me talking about the three folks whose work struck out at me from the cover of Conan, and what they are in my mind.
And all three of these people are still active in the comic community. They still produce work for companies, and there are still folks who are thrilled to see their work. But they aren't the top dog anymore. That's where Alex Ross sits. Ross' near photo-realistic styling has people ooh-ing and ahh-ing left and right--for now. But there will come a time when he will fade. Someone else will come along and he will thrown out like yesterday's guache.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Zombie?...or Vampire?
If there is anything that I've learned from my many days of horror, sci-fi and gaming, it's that when something dies and comes back from the dead, it isn't natural. In fact, it's never a good thing.
When something comes back from the dead, it is either a zombie or a vampire.
Which of course raises the question: is Jesus a zombie or a vampire?
Every year around this time, my mind is flooded with this dilemma, but as a result I've had plenty of time to think about it. Zombies are brain-eating shamblers with social skill issues and horrible wardrobes. Vampires on the other hand are exactly the opposite, at least in the social skill and wardrobe department. Granted, vampires don't eat brains, but they do feed off of the blood of the living, so I do consider that one a wash.
Now, granted that the majority of the Christian faith does seem to fall into the zombie catagory, but we're looking at the head man of the operation and not the little guys.
It has been documented that Jesus had a little party once upon a time where he was insistant that his closest followers eat of his flesh and drink of his blood--paraphrasing of course. To me, this smacks completely of the actions of a vampire. I mean, drink of my blood? Vampires are known to procreate and amass an army of followers through the exact same system.
The one problem with this is that the whole last supper story is said to happen BEFORE his death and not after. That flies directly against the vampire arguement. But the zombie angle doesn't hold up either, mostly due to the complex actions Jesus was involved with after his death. The speeches and the total lack of brain eating are a dead giveaway--pun intended.
So, that brings me back to vampire. But there is a story of Jesus meeting some women on the road to Bethany and appearing in a shower of sunlight. That goes very much against the whole vampire thing again, so we're back to zombie. But Jesus is appearing and disappearing and moving giant stones and such, which is far beyond the capabilities of any zombie.
Where does that leave us then?
I have a theory. I think that Jesus is a Super-Zombie-Vampire! He is the only one of his kind, showing the strength and abilities of a vampire, with the resilience of a zombie. And he was able to create his own personal fashion sense as well.
We may never really know the answer to this dilemma, but that doesn't mean that we can't think about it whenever the amazing story of a man dying for saying "be nice" too often and then coming back for his vengeance comes up.
Happy Easter.
When something comes back from the dead, it is either a zombie or a vampire.
Which of course raises the question: is Jesus a zombie or a vampire?
Every year around this time, my mind is flooded with this dilemma, but as a result I've had plenty of time to think about it. Zombies are brain-eating shamblers with social skill issues and horrible wardrobes. Vampires on the other hand are exactly the opposite, at least in the social skill and wardrobe department. Granted, vampires don't eat brains, but they do feed off of the blood of the living, so I do consider that one a wash.
Now, granted that the majority of the Christian faith does seem to fall into the zombie catagory, but we're looking at the head man of the operation and not the little guys.
It has been documented that Jesus had a little party once upon a time where he was insistant that his closest followers eat of his flesh and drink of his blood--paraphrasing of course. To me, this smacks completely of the actions of a vampire. I mean, drink of my blood? Vampires are known to procreate and amass an army of followers through the exact same system.
The one problem with this is that the whole last supper story is said to happen BEFORE his death and not after. That flies directly against the vampire arguement. But the zombie angle doesn't hold up either, mostly due to the complex actions Jesus was involved with after his death. The speeches and the total lack of brain eating are a dead giveaway--pun intended.
So, that brings me back to vampire. But there is a story of Jesus meeting some women on the road to Bethany and appearing in a shower of sunlight. That goes very much against the whole vampire thing again, so we're back to zombie. But Jesus is appearing and disappearing and moving giant stones and such, which is far beyond the capabilities of any zombie.
Where does that leave us then?
I have a theory. I think that Jesus is a Super-Zombie-Vampire! He is the only one of his kind, showing the strength and abilities of a vampire, with the resilience of a zombie. And he was able to create his own personal fashion sense as well.
We may never really know the answer to this dilemma, but that doesn't mean that we can't think about it whenever the amazing story of a man dying for saying "be nice" too often and then coming back for his vengeance comes up.
Happy Easter.
Friday, March 30, 2007
What To Find on the Interwebs
So, my friend Jared and I were joking around about getting more hits on our blogs.
Jared just had a posting from his blog put on a consumer site (I can't remember which one, sorry), and he saw a huge spike in his blog hits today. It was pretty cool.
Thus to get more hits, we thought that we should add some appropriate labels and or terms to a post, thus attracting attention. It was a funny joke. Funny enough that I looked for the top searched words and phrases on the internet for the past few days. And I know what you're thinking: just start with the word "porn" and go downhill from there. I thought that same thing.
I was stunned.
The top searched thing was "myspace". Which, in case this is somehow the very first website that you have ever visited, is the name of a popular website. Right behind it were "google", "ebay" and "yahoo". Again, websites. And what's more, two of them are search engines. Do people actually search for search engines? Further on down the list also includes "msn" and "ask.com". Total confusion.
The first porn related entry was at #14 on the list, and that was "Jenna Jameson". Not exactly a newcomer to the industry, it's good to see that Jenna has been able to hold the attention of the sexual side of the internet for this long.
I really expected more adult entertainment aspects to the search engine check-up, but both music stars and video games had far more entries, as well as higher ranking entries than the old libido. (Though I was surprised--and disappointed--that my video game of choice, World of Warcraft, didn't make the cut for the top 500 searches.)
What's the meaning and purpose of all this? Well, I guess that there is still some things that surprise us. I would say that there is still "hope for humanity", but I'm not a person that feels that looking at things sexual in nature--so long as those sexual matters are between mature, consenting adult humans--is necessarily a bad thing.
So, when your first thought about the internet is that it's nothing but a conduit for porn: think again. Apparantly it's a conduit for people to use search engines to search for...search engines.
Well, I guess you can worry after all.
Jared just had a posting from his blog put on a consumer site (I can't remember which one, sorry), and he saw a huge spike in his blog hits today. It was pretty cool.
Thus to get more hits, we thought that we should add some appropriate labels and or terms to a post, thus attracting attention. It was a funny joke. Funny enough that I looked for the top searched words and phrases on the internet for the past few days. And I know what you're thinking: just start with the word "porn" and go downhill from there. I thought that same thing.
I was stunned.
The top searched thing was "myspace". Which, in case this is somehow the very first website that you have ever visited, is the name of a popular website. Right behind it were "google", "ebay" and "yahoo". Again, websites. And what's more, two of them are search engines. Do people actually search for search engines? Further on down the list also includes "msn" and "ask.com". Total confusion.
The first porn related entry was at #14 on the list, and that was "Jenna Jameson". Not exactly a newcomer to the industry, it's good to see that Jenna has been able to hold the attention of the sexual side of the internet for this long.
I really expected more adult entertainment aspects to the search engine check-up, but both music stars and video games had far more entries, as well as higher ranking entries than the old libido. (Though I was surprised--and disappointed--that my video game of choice, World of Warcraft, didn't make the cut for the top 500 searches.)
What's the meaning and purpose of all this? Well, I guess that there is still some things that surprise us. I would say that there is still "hope for humanity", but I'm not a person that feels that looking at things sexual in nature--so long as those sexual matters are between mature, consenting adult humans--is necessarily a bad thing.
So, when your first thought about the internet is that it's nothing but a conduit for porn: think again. Apparantly it's a conduit for people to use search engines to search for...search engines.
Well, I guess you can worry after all.
Monday, March 26, 2007
I am going to take this opportunity to rebut something that a friend of mine said.
Recently on his blog, Charles gave a glowing review of Spring in Georgia. He spoke of the beauty and the tranquil nature of the time of year.
I'm here to tell you that is a lie. If there is indeed a Hell, Georgia in Spring is a clear reflection of it.
Oh, the trees and the sky might be beautiful, but that beauty is only surface deep. Beneath it is a terror of immense proportion. For you see, Spring in Georgia means only one thing to me: pollen.
You might think that is an annoyance, and very little else, but it isn't. You see, Georgia has a special agreement with pollen. All the pollen that isn't allowed to show up in any other part of the world at this time is relocated to Georgia so that it can romp around and have fun with all the other pollen.
I mean, that has to be the case, right?
The Atlanta Allergy Clinic has a daily pollen meter, letting you know the pollen count and its relative danger to anyone who has reactions to said pollen. Most places have a high pollen count near 100, making it a high pollen, but not quite in the dangerous range. Anything over 125 is considered dangerous.
The pollen count today is 5,499.
You read correctly. Five-thousand four-hundred and ninety-nine. Aw heck, for simplicity sake let's go ahead and round it up to 5,500. That makes the pollen count 44 TIMES the dangerous level of pollen.
Let me put it another way. My truck and my wife's car are both an odd yellow color. They weren't when we bought our vehicles, but they are today, and probably will be for a while. They are covered in a layer of pollen. This normally happens when the numerous pine trees of the area start to pollenate. They haven't started yet. What we have right now is Oak, Sweet Gum, Sycamore, Birch, Mulberry, and Beech. Of those six trees, I am allergic to...all of them.
So, right now I'm sleeping a lot. Over 12 hours a day, and the times that I'm not sleeping, I'm tired and thinking about sleep. It is absolutely miserable right now. Spring in Georgia is the absolute worst time of year. I dread it's coming, and hate it when it is here.
Therefore, I refute the idea that Spring is pretty. The flowers and other colors that debut around this time are beautiful, but beauty is only surface deep, and the tiny terror that lies beneath the beauty attacks deep.
Recently on his blog, Charles gave a glowing review of Spring in Georgia. He spoke of the beauty and the tranquil nature of the time of year.
I'm here to tell you that is a lie. If there is indeed a Hell, Georgia in Spring is a clear reflection of it.
Oh, the trees and the sky might be beautiful, but that beauty is only surface deep. Beneath it is a terror of immense proportion. For you see, Spring in Georgia means only one thing to me: pollen.
You might think that is an annoyance, and very little else, but it isn't. You see, Georgia has a special agreement with pollen. All the pollen that isn't allowed to show up in any other part of the world at this time is relocated to Georgia so that it can romp around and have fun with all the other pollen.
I mean, that has to be the case, right?
The Atlanta Allergy Clinic has a daily pollen meter, letting you know the pollen count and its relative danger to anyone who has reactions to said pollen. Most places have a high pollen count near 100, making it a high pollen, but not quite in the dangerous range. Anything over 125 is considered dangerous.
The pollen count today is 5,499.
You read correctly. Five-thousand four-hundred and ninety-nine. Aw heck, for simplicity sake let's go ahead and round it up to 5,500. That makes the pollen count 44 TIMES the dangerous level of pollen.
Let me put it another way. My truck and my wife's car are both an odd yellow color. They weren't when we bought our vehicles, but they are today, and probably will be for a while. They are covered in a layer of pollen. This normally happens when the numerous pine trees of the area start to pollenate. They haven't started yet. What we have right now is Oak, Sweet Gum, Sycamore, Birch, Mulberry, and Beech. Of those six trees, I am allergic to...all of them.
So, right now I'm sleeping a lot. Over 12 hours a day, and the times that I'm not sleeping, I'm tired and thinking about sleep. It is absolutely miserable right now. Spring in Georgia is the absolute worst time of year. I dread it's coming, and hate it when it is here.
Therefore, I refute the idea that Spring is pretty. The flowers and other colors that debut around this time are beautiful, but beauty is only surface deep, and the tiny terror that lies beneath the beauty attacks deep.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
I am fascinated by certain phenomenon. In this case, it's a social phenomenon.
When I was in Elementary School, back in the early 1970's there was a jingle for McDonald's that started with "McDonald's is your kind of place..." I want to say it was one of the jingles that was written by Barry Manilow, but I haven't checked that thought, mostly because that isn't the important part.
The important part, and to me, the amazing part, is that as a small child I sang not the traditional version, but a version that went:
McDonald's is your kind of place!
Shove hamburgers in your face!
Stuff french fries up your nose!
Put pickles between your toes!
And don't forget our famous shakes,
they're made from polluted lakes!
McDonald's is your kind of place!
Clever words, I know, but that still isn't the important part. The most important thing, and the truly amazing thing, is that my wife, Allyson sang that same song in Elementary School. I grew up in Fort Wayne, Indiana. She grew up in Smyrna, Georgia. And we were singing the same insipid parody of a song at roughly the same time.
Now, this happened long before the internet was a reality. There was no way to communicate this directly. But the other day I stated that someplace was my kind of place, and she went right into the song. We both knew the same song. So I did a very unscientific study and asked a couple of people around my age if they knew that song. They did. One was from Florida and the other from Texas.
How? How did this song get from Indiana to Georgia to Florida to Texas? The concept of synchronicity leaps to mind, but just seeing a realization of it makes me wonder.
And think about the whole "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells" song.
When I was in Elementary School, back in the early 1970's there was a jingle for McDonald's that started with "McDonald's is your kind of place..." I want to say it was one of the jingles that was written by Barry Manilow, but I haven't checked that thought, mostly because that isn't the important part.
The important part, and to me, the amazing part, is that as a small child I sang not the traditional version, but a version that went:
McDonald's is your kind of place!
Shove hamburgers in your face!
Stuff french fries up your nose!
Put pickles between your toes!
And don't forget our famous shakes,
they're made from polluted lakes!
McDonald's is your kind of place!
Clever words, I know, but that still isn't the important part. The most important thing, and the truly amazing thing, is that my wife, Allyson sang that same song in Elementary School. I grew up in Fort Wayne, Indiana. She grew up in Smyrna, Georgia. And we were singing the same insipid parody of a song at roughly the same time.
Now, this happened long before the internet was a reality. There was no way to communicate this directly. But the other day I stated that someplace was my kind of place, and she went right into the song. We both knew the same song. So I did a very unscientific study and asked a couple of people around my age if they knew that song. They did. One was from Florida and the other from Texas.
How? How did this song get from Indiana to Georgia to Florida to Texas? The concept of synchronicity leaps to mind, but just seeing a realization of it makes me wonder.
And think about the whole "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells" song.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
One more thing about the death of Captain America...
He shouldn't be dead.
No, not from the fact that I think they were idiots to kill the character off, but from a couple of simple facts.
First off, he was in costume. If the story was accurate, Cap was a prisoner. Prisoners don't get to keep their own clothes. He should have been in standard prison issue.
Second, as a prisoner being transferred, federal law requires a prisoner being transferred to wear a flak vest. A bullet-proof flak vest. And Cap wasn't shot in the head, he was shot in the stomach, exactly where the vest would have protected him. Oh, and even if he got the special permission to wear his own outfit, that outfit seems to be made of some form of armor, designed I think, to protect him from things like, oh I don't know...bullets?
And finally, when Cap looks up and notices the sniper, why does he keep this information to himself? I guess he wanted to protect the team of elite SHIELD agents around him that are trained to deal with all manner of dangerous threats from a lone gunman. Or maybe he just gave up? After all, he's only survived for decades through war and death of those closest to him and being frozen in a block of ice. So, having a bad experience while three civil workers tackle him for...wait, why did they tackle him? That really was never made clear in Civil War.
No, I feel that the thing that killed Cap (ignoring the previous post) was bad writing. I would go on, but this entry would simply disolve, rather quickly, into a diatribe against the state of writing at Marvel these days.
He shouldn't be dead.
No, not from the fact that I think they were idiots to kill the character off, but from a couple of simple facts.
First off, he was in costume. If the story was accurate, Cap was a prisoner. Prisoners don't get to keep their own clothes. He should have been in standard prison issue.
Second, as a prisoner being transferred, federal law requires a prisoner being transferred to wear a flak vest. A bullet-proof flak vest. And Cap wasn't shot in the head, he was shot in the stomach, exactly where the vest would have protected him. Oh, and even if he got the special permission to wear his own outfit, that outfit seems to be made of some form of armor, designed I think, to protect him from things like, oh I don't know...bullets?
And finally, when Cap looks up and notices the sniper, why does he keep this information to himself? I guess he wanted to protect the team of elite SHIELD agents around him that are trained to deal with all manner of dangerous threats from a lone gunman. Or maybe he just gave up? After all, he's only survived for decades through war and death of those closest to him and being frozen in a block of ice. So, having a bad experience while three civil workers tackle him for...wait, why did they tackle him? That really was never made clear in Civil War.
No, I feel that the thing that killed Cap (ignoring the previous post) was bad writing. I would go on, but this entry would simply disolve, rather quickly, into a diatribe against the state of writing at Marvel these days.
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