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September 28, 2007

Moving Day

Several years ago, I awoke on an overcast and wintry day to a most unusual sight: a hometown landmark called the Crane House creeping slowly down the street on the back of an enormous flatbed trailer. Evicted from its original location (which was soon to become a Hollywood Video store), the old Victorian mansion -- well, it was considered a mansion when it was built, at least in these parts -- was transported about a mile south, placed on a quiet side road, and reborn as the Riverton Museum, a rare case (at least in Utah) of a historic building that was spared the wrecking ball when progress came a-calling. (Incidentally, if you're inclined to follow that link for the museum, prepare your eyes before you click; the web page on the other end is a bit... busy.)

The moving of the Crane House was one of the most awe-inspiring things I've ever seen. The century-old, two-story home made the trip intact, not cut in half and reassembled like other older homes I've seen relocated. The place always looked big to me when I was a kid pedaling past on my Schwinn; it looked gargantuan coming down the middle of Redwood Road, as tall as the telephone poles it was passing. (Of course, the trailer beneath it raised it up a good five or six feet above ground level.)

This morning I spotted something on the InterWebs that might be even more impressive:

That's a home that's probably about the same age as the Crane House, but appears to be much bigger to my eye, being moved moved seven miles downriver from its original site in Palmetto, Florida, to begin a new life as a visitor's center at a nature preserve. As this article points out, moving the house by water has one major advantage over the land-based method that was used for the Crane: you don't have to worry about power lines or automobile traffic.

Pretty amazing stuff...

September 27, 2007

A Romantic in a Monetized World

Not to get all whiny on you fine folks, but I've had a rough month. Circumstances in the New Proofreaders' Cave lately have left my work/life balance extremely lopsided, and even though I haven't had to put in any late nights this week, I haven't managed to catch up on my sleep deprivation either. I've been shuffling along about three seconds behind the rest of the world, feeling like whatever wit or cleverness I may once have possessed caught a Greyhound for Miami round about last Tuesday. It doesn't help that this is my favorite time of the year, and an entire month of glorious, mellow afternoons have slipped through my fingers while I've sat steadfastly at my desk in a dimly lighted corporate cubicle without even a decent window view.

All of which is my way of explaining why the latest dispatch from Tony Long, a.k.a. Wired.com's resident Luddite, resonated so strongly with me:

I was meant to be drifting through the back streets of Istanbul, clad in a white linen suit, flitting from one café to the next, sipping tea on a Bosphorus steamer, wooing an olive-skinned beauty at the bar of the Hotel Bebek. ... It would be nice if my worthy employer would change my job description to "boulevardier" and pay me a princely salary to explore various exotic locales -- for the sake of appearances, I suppose I'd deign to dash off an occasional dispatch to the home office -- but that's probably not going to happen. We romantics tend to romanticize, not monetize, and therefore have little value in this hard-hearted, for-profit world.

Whatever. I want to be Bogie in Casablanca... Alas, I'm not Bogie in Casablanca. I'm Tony in California and it's 2007 and it's not about running a saloon, it's about "core competency" and "entrepreneurialism" and the "global economy." It's about making the bottom line, being there 24/7, upping those page views, closing that deal. It's about making someone else rich off the sweat of your labor. It's about living with constant stress that we, as humans, shouldn't really have to live with.

Sigh. I've got a vacation coming up in four weeks, if I can just stave off my pending crack-up until then... but it would be easier if I had a white linen suit. Or at least a cure for insomnia.

I Can Has Scenery Chewing?

You know, there was a time in my life when I would've been ashamed to admit that I even understood this, let alone thought it was funny:

128340218662187500khaaan.jpg

Hi, my name is Jason, and I'm a nerd.

(Actually, when you think about it, this is really a fascinating example the cross-connections within popular culture. Imagine trying to explain this to someone from the year 1975, say...)

[Update: Here is a version with sound, for that full, Shatner-esque effect.]

Groovy New Blog: Brenda's Babes

My constant scouring of the InterWebs for the very best in afternoon time-wasters has uncovered a gem: Brenda's Babes, a blog wherein a woman who collects vintage pin-up art shares her treasures with the world, one piece at a time.

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but I quite enjoy pin-up art (yes, kids, that's right! It's another Random Factoid About Me™!). The appeal is two-fold. First, there's the obvious reason: I'm a guy, and I like looking at pictures of pretty girls who aren't wearing much in the way of clothing (although pin-up art doesn't necessarily require skimpy attire or nudity). The other reason is that I just like the retro aesthetic of the classic pin-ups, the general look of '40s and '50s-vintage illustration. It's part of my whole fascination with a time period I never lived through, I guess.

This Brenda who runs the pin-up blog is currently a finalist in a contest that required her to make a video about her collection. She stands to win $20K if her video gets enough votes, so go give it a look, and if you like what you see, drop a vote for her.

Be aware that her collections feature lots of ladies in their underwear and occasionally some mild nudity (including a very unexpected image of a topless Betty White in her younger days. Yes, that Betty White, the one from The Golden Girls! She wasn't always somebody's grandmother, you know...), just in case that sort of thing bothers you...

September 26, 2007

Five Sci-Fi Movies

SFSignal asks the pressing question, "What 5 Sci-Fi Movies Do You Watch Over and Over?" I respond thusly:

  • Star Wars (Duh! And, of course, by "Star Wars," I mean the very first one made, what you whippersnappers refer to as "Episode IV: A New Hope." Of course, again, I stubbornly refuse to think of it in those terms.)
  • The Terminator
  • Superman: The Movie
  • Star Trek II: The Wrath of Kahn
  • The Fifth Element

Given the make-up of my All-Time Favorites list and my tendency to re-watch pretty much any movie I like, I can't tell you how hard it was to narrow my choices to a mere five. I finally decided to go with the ones that I never, ever turn off if I happen to find them on television, the ones that still suck me in completely and make me laugh, cry, or just keep watching, no matter how many times I've seen them before. Even going by that criterion, however, my choices were still difficult. Because having to choose just sucks.

This has been another time-wasting collection of unsolicited trivia about yours truly. We now return you to more productive activities.

It's Tasertime!

I tend to be pretty anti-authoritarian by nature, and I'm deeply troubled whenever I hear about those who have power abusing those who do not. Even so, I just can't seem to work up too much outrage over that incident that's had the InterWebs buzzing for the last week or so, the one in which a University of Florida student got tasered after disrupting an appearance by Senator John Kerry.

The video evidence plainly shows that police had no good reason to zap him, considering he appears to be handcuffed, on the ground, and surrounded by about a half-dozen uniformed officers. But it also looks to me like this kid was going out of his way to make a scene and was egging on the blackbellies by acting like Dennis the Constitutional Peasant in Monty Python and the Holy Grail ("Help! Help! I'm being repressed! Come see the violence inherent in the system!"). I've also heard that Andrew Meyer, the student in question, is a known provocateur who butted his way to the front of the line so he could harangue Kerry, and that he had arranged for someone to film him in hopes (presumably) of getting his 15 seconds of YouTube fame (Warhol overestimated the country's attention span, in my opinion).

I think Jon Stewart probably nailed the situation when he called it, "An unfortunate combination of police over-reaction and what appears to be student douche-baggery."

Still, whatever Meyer's true motivations and regardless of where you may stand on the question of whether his civil rights were violated, he did get his moment on YouTube:

These days, that seems to be about all that matters, doesn't it?

September 21, 2007

Overheard This Morning...

During a conversation here in the New Proofreaders' Cave, deep in the bowels of one of the glorious metropolitan skyscrapers in fabulous downtown Salt Lake City:

"I feel so guilty about taking my dog's Valium..."

Hey, whatever gets you through the day, right?

How to Make a Good Remake

I haven't exactly planned it this way, but it seems like I've been blogging a lot lately about movie and television remakes. (Probably just because of how damn many of them are currently under development. Anyone out there know of a site that has a comprehensive list of all the remakes that are either shooting now or at least are being talked about?) As I'm sure you've noticed, I'm generally opposed to them.

I am utterly convinced that studio heads these days think more in terms of branding than storytelling, that they figure a remake is an easier sell than something wholly original because the title and possibly the general premise are already known to the consumer. It's like bringing out a new variety of Coke, rather than trying to find a niche for an entirely new beverage. But is that really so bad? My knee-jerk reaction is, yes, of course it's bad, especially if somebody has the audacity to remake a movie that I personally love. (Escape from New York comes to mind, for example; it made a big impact on me as a kid, and I think it's perfect just as it is, still a perfectly entertaining B-grade action flick. Except now it's going to be a big-budget, CGI'd, and probably far-less-cool action flick.) I could go on for eight or nine hundred words about how creatively bankrupt it is to approach movie-making like factory work, and how disposable, forgettable, and ultimately pointless most remakes are.

Except... I can always find exceptions, can't I? I'm on record here on this blog as saying that I'm okay, at least in principle, with updated versions of Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers, and Logan's Run. I love the original versions of these, but revisiting them doesn't bother me. However, the thought of a new Day the Earth Stood Still turns my stomach. So how do I reconcile these opposing viewpoints?

It seems I'm not the only movie buff who struggles with this issue. The proprietor of ScreenRant.com has been pondering the same thing, and he's come up with several criteria for making a decent remake. As it so happens, I agree completely with his thinking, right down to the examples he's chosen. With his indulgence for blantantly ripping him off, read on to see how I (and the ScreenRant guy) think remakes ought to be done:

If it's done well, I don't have a problem with remakes of original films that meet any of the following criteria:

1. Well known stories that have already had multiple movie remakes done.

Movies based on classic stories like The Three Musketeers, Dracula, Frankenstein, etc. These have been remade so many times already that you can't really logically argue against another one, and sometimes a newer version turns out to be quite good.

2. The original is terribly dated in either setting or pacing and style.

In this category you'll find movies like Ocean's 11 and The Thomas Crown Affair. I've watched both the original versions and the remakes and while I'm no fan of the seizure-inducing, quick-cut filming style used in so many movies today, the pacing in some movies from the late 60's/early 70's was so slow that it could put you in a coma.

3. The original is not terribly well known or beloved.

Let me start off by saying that there is a special place reserved in Hell for the person that ever gets a remake of Casablanca produced. Some movies should just be off limits. Period. Movies that are a part of the fabric of the history of cinema should just be left alone, if for no other reason than because they have withstood the test of time and are still considered excellent and extremely enjoyable today. In addition to Casablanca I would add It's a Wonderful Life, 12 Angry Men, The Maltese Falcon (yes, I know the Humphrey Bogart version is a remake, but let's leave it alone now, shall we?) and of course, Citizen Kane. There are many others, but you get the gist.

4. The remake does in fact bring something new while respecting the original.

Here we have movies like Cape Fear, The Italian Job, The Magnificent Seven and The Thing. Each of these was a remake that brought something fresh to the original story, whether in concept or execution.

5. The original was basically pretty cheesy or tongue-in-check in tone and most folks wouldn't care if it was remade.

Little Shop of Horrors and even Eight Legged Freaks as a new twist on the classic giant-ant movie Them. This is the category where I think a remake of Fright Night fits: It was pretty campy and didn't take itself too seriously and while it was a fun movie, I don't think it falls under "untouchable" status. In the right hands it could be quite good, but that's certainly no guarantee.

Criterion number five is the only one I have a slight quibble with, since I find that "cheesy" and "tongue in cheek" is largely a matter of individual taste, and one man's fromage is somebody else's hearty oatmeal. (Refer again to Escape from New York; most people would call it very cheesy, based on when it was made, the low budget, and the outlandish concept. I, however, still find it effective, at least as plausible as, say, The Matrix, and pretty damn moving in places. The exchange between Snake and Maggie on the 59th Street Bridge after her beloved Brain is killed raises a lump in my throat every time. But that's probably just me.)

As for "most folks not caring if something is remade," well, that's a pretty dangerous statement. In my experience, only purists give a damn about remakes, and we're in a definite minority. I've met a lot of people who can't be bothered to watch movies that are any older than five or 10 years, even people who categorize themselves as movie fans. I'd daresay that "most folks" wouldn't care if Casablanca were remade, because a good percentage of them have probably never seen it anyway, and maybe haven't even heard of it.

Now there's a depressing thought...


September 19, 2007

T-shirt of the Day

Spotted this morning on the train ride to work, a college kid in a black T that read:

Come to the Dark Side. We have cookies.
--V

Understated geekery. Nice...

Headline of the Day

Machete duel ends with one man hogtied.

The article laconically notes that, "Fists where thrown and one man picked up a machete, police said. The second man also retrieved a machete, according to police, and they began dueling with the weapons."

Who has not just one but two machetes laying around the house? In Salt Lake City?

I'm telling you, kids, it's getting weird out there...

See Walken Dance!

Via Cheno, here's a highly entertaining music video featuring Christopher Walken dancing to Fatboy Slim's "Weapon of Choice." Sure, you've probably seen it before, but watch it again. It'll make you smile:

You know, it's really a shame that Walken is so often typecast as a violent loon, or otherwise freaky characters, because he really is wonderfully charismatic and funny when he's given a chance to be. And, as this clip demonstrates, he can dance. If someone were to attempt to revive the old-fashioned Fred Astaire-style song-and-dance picture, I can totally see him starring...

September 17, 2007

The Final Season of Battlestar Galactica? Um, No...

I was surprised and amused recently to learn that Galactica 1980 -- the abortive first effort to revive the Battlestar Galactica franchise, years before anyone ever heard of that Ron Moore fellow -- is coming to DVD. I was less amused when I got a look at the cover art and saw that some marketing genius somewhere has tagged the show as "The Original Battlestar Galactica's Final Season."

Come on, guys... hasn't the reputation of the original Galactica suffered enough in recent years? G80 was a spin-off of the original show, not another season, and I don't know of any fans of Classic BG who consider it to be "official" in any way. Mostly, we try to forget it ever happened. Saying that it's part of the original series is like claiming that you haven't seen every episode of M*A*S*H until you've seen AfterM*A*S*H, too. Or, as my buddy Dave put it when I IM'd him with this news:

Talk about spin in order to sell more DVDs. Let's face it, if they called it, "A really crap show that has almost no connection to the original series, and is so low budget they couldn't afford Cylon costumes, but it's cool if you're a fan of Cousin Oliver," I don't think many people would buy it.

Yeah, that about says it all...

Drive-By Blogging 5: Creature from the Blog

I still haven't made much progress on that entry I mentioned the other day, the one about the events of last weekend. (Sorry to be so oblique here -- it really isn't any big secret or anything. I went to my 20-year high school reunion and want to give it a good write-up. But I haven't had time for good, hence all the lameness that carried us through last week.) In its place, here's a compendium of random net crap that's caught my eyes recently:

  • First up, in this week's earlier entry about the newly revealed title of the upcoming fourth Indiana Jones movie, Cranky Robert expressed his ignorance of crystal skulls. A real-life Harvard archeologist provides some background on these artifacts here. He says that even though the crystal skulls once thought to be examples of some ancient Mayan technology have since been proven to be 19th Century fakes, the stories associated with them are definitely the sort of thing you could hang a good pulp adventure story on:

    "It is said that when [High Priest of the Maya] willed death with the help of the skull, death invariably followed," [Dr.] Zender said. "For anyone who believed this story, then, the crystal skull was a grim and deadly artifact, exactly the kind of thing that Indy would go searching for."

    Unfortunately, Zender's thinking about the crystal skulls of myth (as opposed to the actual fake artifacts) doesn't exclude the possibility that Indy IV will somehow involve extra-terrestrials. God, I hope those are just rumors...

  • Via Andrew Sullivan, a new product that ought to raise some eyebrows (and maybe some heart-rates) at Relief Society:

    Mormons Exposed is a new brand launching a forward-thinking product - a steamy 2008 calendar featuring twelve handsome former Mormon missionaries who have dared to pose bare-chested in the first-ever Men on a Mission calendar.

    Oh, boy. Somebody's going to get a talking to about that one. I especially like this bit of copy, from the FAQ section:

    The twelve former missionaries who "bare their testimony" on the pages of the Men on a Mission calendar were hand-selected for their striking good looks and powerful spiritual devotion. They are men who were comfortable enough in their own beliefs, and independent and brave enough to take a stand for what they believe in regardless of what others may think. By slightly stepping away from the Mormon traditions of modest dress, these missionaries show the world they can have a strong faith and be proud of who they are, both with a sense of individualism and a sense of humor at the same time.

    Um, yeah... okay. It should be interesting to see how this is received, whether it provokes controversy or yawns of disinterest...

  • After a hunk of beefcake for the ladies, here's a slice of cheesecake for the men: it's a video clip of the classic pin-up model Bettie Page dancing, and yes, the music you're hearing is the same song that the freaky serial killer in Silence of the Lambs was listening to as he played with his nipple rings. Bettie has a much sweeter smile, though.

  • When I went to Germany a few years ago, I relied on a guide book by PBS travel guru Rick Steves. I love his shows, and his approach to travel (i.e., go cheap -- although I doubt I ever gone as cheaply as he advocates -- avoid the tourist traps, be open to new experiences and ways of thinking, and, most of all, try to figure out what the place is really like, as opposed to what it appears to be on the postcards). Here's an interview with him in which he reveals himself to be a flaming liberal, right up to and including advocacy for the legalization of pot. For the record, I generally agree with his views, especially his idea that Americans need to travel more and broaden our perspective on the rest of the world.

  • News of movie and television remakes is all over the place these days, including rumblings of another go at Buck Rogers and either a remake or sequel (I'm not quite clear) for Tron. Just for good measure, the Tron article mentions a remake brewing for Logan's Run, too. My take on these: Buck, like Flash Gordon, is something I'm comfortable with revisiting every so often, because it is such an old property and has already been updated several times. I have my favorite version, of course, but I'm not categorically opposed to the idea of a new one. Logan, too, could probably be improved; it's a sort-of classic and I personally enjoy it, but viewed objectively, the film is something of a mess. A remake could potentially be a vast improvement. As for a new Tron, um, no. It is singular and unique, charming in part because of its technological innocence, and a remake could only be a disservice. A sequel may be less sucky, but the movie certainly doesn't scream out for one. The involvement of Jeff Bridges would go a long way toward reducing the suck factor, but I don't know if plans include him. We'll see, I guess...

  • Speaking of remakes, looks like The Lost Boys 2 is going ahead with Corey Feldman, but not Corey Haim. Feldman is pretty diplomatic about this latest development, but as best I can piece it together, Feldman was asked to do the sequel but refused unless the producers brought his old buddy and co-star Haim along as well; the producers agreed, Feldman signed the papers, then for some reason Haim backed out, and now Feldman is soldiering on and doing his part. My hunch is that the roles offered these two guys were probably only cameos and that the movie will center around all new characters; Feldman is realistic and professional enough to live with that, Haim's ego couldn't take it. And why do I care about any of this? I don't know exactly, except that (a) I like The Lost Boys, (b) I find "where are they now" stuff fascinating, and (c) "the two Coreys" were pretty much ubiquitous for a time during my formative years, so I'm naturally curious about how they've turned out. Probably no one else cares but me, though, so moving along...

  • News of the weird: a man recently committed suicide with a home-made guillotine (guess he was really serious about wanting to end it).

  • News of the heartwarming: after a high school freshman was bullied for wearing a pink shirt (because some idiots think only fags wear those), a couple of seniors encouraged about half their fellow students to wear pink as a show of support for the put-upon kid. The bullies apparently responded by throwing a screaming-weemie tantrum. If this story isn't ready-made for a movie script, I don't know what is.

  • And finally, for anyone who's made it this far... via Boing Boing's new "Gadgets" sub-blog, here is a picture of a vehicle seen at this year's Burning Man that was made up to look like a Jawa sandcrawler. Only with the sails from Jabba's barge on top. Because no one wanted to wear hoods and cloaks in that heat, but the 400 SPF sunblock wasn't cutting it...

September 14, 2007

Career Meme

Puffbird referred me to the latest meme this morning. The results are... unexpected.

First, the instructions:

1. Go to http://www.careercruising.com/.

2. Put in Username: nycareers, Password: landmark.

3. Take their "Career Matchmaker" questions.

4. Post the top ten results.

And now my results:

  1. Costume Designer
  2. Special Effects Technician
  3. Desktop Publisher
  4. Animator
  5. Cartoonist / Comic Illustrator
  6. Actor
  7. Anthropologist
  8. Set Designer
  9. Comedian
  10. Artist

The number one choice is costume designer? Really? That's one I never would've come to on my own.

Many of the other options on this list are at least things I've thought about at one point or other in my life -- I'm interested in special effects, for instance; I studied anthropology in college and did some acting in high school; and when I was a Looney Tunes-obsessed youngster, I did think I'd someday like to be a cartoonist or animator -- and I actually have worked as a desktop publisher. But costume designer? Wow...

Looking down the rest of my top 40, I see that my actual ambition -- the ever-vague "writer" -- doesn't show up until number 16, and the occupation I've held that most closely resembles my ambitions -- technical writing -- is at number 24. (Which doesn't surprise me; I actually didn't much like being a tech writer.) My current occupation -- proofreader -- didn't make the top 40 at all, although I suppose you can say I'm a sort of "communications specialist" (number 26).

Not that any of this matters, of course. I've never put much stock in these interest surveys, not since I found myself wondering on high-school Career Day if my number-two pencil somehow malfunctioned during the "fill in the circle" thingie, because I most assuredly did not want to be a CPA or a computer programmer...

September 13, 2007

TV Title Sequence: Space: 1999

Writing about Space: 1999 earlier reminded me that I haven't posted a TV series opener for awhile. So, without further ado...

This was a typical opening sequence for the show's first season. (It ran two years, but was pretty thoroughly retooled in the second year, including a whole new title sequence; this is the opener I remember, however, especially that shot of the Eagle falling out of the sky and exploding... man, that stuck in my mind for years, even during the long, hazy period before DVDs and the Internet enabled me to refresh my memories.) Space used a rather unorthodox technique of showing part of the current week's episode in the titles, as a kind of teaser, I suppose. (This particular opener is from an episode called "Black Sun," if you're interested.) The end result was that the title sequence was just a little bit different every week. I'm not aware of any other show that ever did that.

Watching it now, the music strikes me as over-the-top melodrama and bombast that didn't entirely represent the tone of the series -- which was very brooding and cerebral in the first year -- but it's catchy. Just try getting it out of your head. Go on, try.

Breakaway Day

This is getting into some very tall grass on the Plains of Geekiness, but I can't help it... I love this cheez-ball stuff:

The Bad Astronomer reminds us that today, September 13, would have been the eighth anniversary of the Moon blasting out of Earth orbit if the premise of Space: 1999 had come true.

(If you don't remember it -- and not a lot of people do -- Space: 1999 was a TV series back in the early '70s. It begins with a nuclear explosion -- a superimposed title informs us that the date is September 13, 1999 -- that sends the Moon hurtling into deep space, carrying with it the 300 or so inhabitants of Moonbase Alpha, who then proceed to have various far-out adventures every week. Whoever was writing the show had a weaker grasp of basic science than my inbred, semi-feral pet cat, as common-sense things like the immense distance between star systems were routinely ignored -- not to mention the fact that Alpha apparently had an inexhaustible supply of its Eagle shuttlecraft, considering that one or two got wrecked every week -- but what the show lacked in sense, it made up for in style. The aforementioned Eagle, for instance, is still one of the coolest-looking spaceship designs ever put on film, in my humble opinion.)

It's strange, sometimes, being a science fiction fan in the 21st century; as all these iconic dates for made-up events that never occurred recede into the distance, it's hard not to feel an odd twinge of disappointment, of loss for what might have been. For instance, NASA did not launch the last of America's deep-space probes in 1987 with Captain William "Buck" Rogers at the controls... there were no Eugenics Wars in the mid-1990s that ended with a group of genetic "supermen" stealing an advanced DY-100 spacecraft and slipping away from Earth (that's a good thing, actually)... and the spaceship Discovery did not explore Jupiter and the secret of the black monoliths in 2001. The result is that our fictional worlds are now harder to believe in, if only for an hour or two's viewing time, and the real world just isn't as cool as we grew up thinking it would be. Consider, for example, the fact that we never see anything like this anywhere but our imaginations:

The way the space program should have gone.

Sigh.

Image source.

September 12, 2007

Sword vs. Bullet

Here's another in our ongoing series of Random Factoids About Me™: I like swords.

I think they're beautiful objects, and there are few things as thrilling as seeing one wielded by someone who knows what they're doing. (I'm speaking, of course, of seeing them used for demonstration purposes only; seeing one put to the use for which they were actually designed would be... unnerving.)

Of all the different types of swords produced by nearly every culture on the planet, however, none has acquired a greater reputation than the Japanese katana. There are stories of master swordmakers testing their newest creations by seeing how many condemned men the blade would slice through on a single stroke. According to legend, katanas routinely shattered brittle European broadswords. And according to the movies, the damn things were only one step away from acting like lightsabers, capable of just about anything.

In that spirit, allow me to present the following video, which is apparently a clip from a Japanese television show that set out to see if a katana could, in fact, split a bullet like you often see in anime and martial-arts flicks:

Pretty impressive, no? Well, it looks good anyway... I guess if you think about it, it's really no surprise that a tempered steel edge could slice through a soft lead slug. And, as the boys at Boing Boing pointed out in the post I ganked this from, this ability wouldn't really be of much use, since you'd end up with two pieces of fast-moving metal coming in your general direction instead of only one. Still... it's a sword slicing a bullet, man! As the kiddies say, that's kewl...

Unsightly Is the Tree That Has No Leaves

Hey, remember a while back when I expounded on my experience of wearing a beard? No? Well, that's okay, because I'll just remind you of the salient bit, which is the little poem by George Carlin that I ended the entry with:

Here's my beard.
Ain't it wierd?
Don't be sceered,
It's just a beard.

Andrew Sullivan, a fellow bearded man, posted another poem today that makes essentially the same point, but a little more elegantly:

Abundant hair hangs over my fierce face
and shoulders, shading me, just like a grove;
but don't think me unsightly just because
I am completely covered in dense bristles:
unsightly is the tree that has no leaves,
the horse without a mane; birds have their plumage
and sheep are most attractive in their wool,
so facial hair and a full body beard
are really most becoming in a man.

--Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book XIII (trans. Charles Martin)

Go, Ovid!

September 11, 2007

How Many of Me?

I may have posted about this site before -- it seems like I did, but I can't find the entry now. Still, it's always fun to play with silly Internet toys, and, according to this one, it would appear that I have a relatively unique name.


HowManyOfMe.com
LogoThere are
3
people with my name
in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

Cool. I know one of these other Jason Bennions is a minor-league baseball player who, oddly enough, comes from Taylorsville, Utah, just a few miles up the road from my house. Of the third JB, I haven't a clue... although there is a Welsh painter who share the name as well.

Of course, there is a downside to this: should Skynet decide to send a Terminator after me, it won't take long for it to work its way down the list...

Indy IV Title

I've got a much longer entry in the works about what I did over the weekend, but I'm in the middle of a crushingly busy week, so I don't know when I'll be able to finish it. In the meantime, here's a quick note about yesterday's big announcement. If you didn't hear, Shia LaBeouf revealed the title of the upcoming fourth Indiana Jones movie at the MTV Video Music Awards. It is -- are you ready? -- Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.

The reactions I've heard thus far have been luke-warm at best, with many people saying that the title is too long. I'll admit, it's a bit ungainly -- it would be better if Uncle George shortened it to Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull -- but I'm generally fine with it. It has an appropriately pulpish sound, and crystal skulls -- which do exist and have long been rumored to possess occult or mystical powers -- are far more the sort of thing you'd expect an Indiana Jones story to pivot around than Area 51 and the Roswell aliens. (One of the rumored plotlines from a couple years ago had our favorite fedora-wearing whipcracker uncovering the truth that Mulder never seemed to get to the bottom of, an utterly ridiculous idea that would make a disastrous movie, in my not-so-humble opinion.)

Actually, the more I think about it, the more I think I like the title. I'm starting to think that maybe George, Steven, and Harrison might be making a for-real Indy movie, instead of the lame and pointless mess that everyone fears...

September 7, 2007

Madeleine L'Engle

Here's a bummer note on which to start the weekend: SF Signal is repeating the news that author Madeleine L'Engle, best known for the classic children's story A Wrinkle in Time and its various sequels, died last night at her home in Connecticut. She was 89, so she had a good, long life at least. And of course her books will no doubt remain in print for a long, long time to come, a form of immortality that everyone who puts words to paper dreams of achieving.

I blogged some time ago about revisiting Wrinkle when I had to write an essay on a favorite childhood book for a job interview; you can read that essay, as well, if you've a mind to.

You never realize how much some of those long-forgotten things from childhood really mean to you until something forcibly reminds you. A couple years ago, it was a job interview that got me thinking about Wrinkle and its sequel, A Swiftly Tilting Planet, which I also loved (I never got around to reading the other twothree books in the Time QuartetQuintet, as I understand it's called). Today, it's the passing of the lady who created them.

Update: There's a detailed obit up now at The New York Times, and Scalzi has pretty much summed it up with this observation:

...what a great writer she was. Her books remain; in fact, they are on my daughter's bookshelf right now, waiting for her. I envy her that she gets to read them for the first time.

I don't have any children, but I understand that sentiment very well...

Update Two: Hm, it seems there are actually five books in the "time" series: A Wrinkle in Time, A Wind in the Door, A Swiftly Tilting Planet, Many Waters, and An Acceptable Time. Man, am I out of touch with my children's and young adult literature!

Another Mystery Solved... Maybe

A couple of weeks ago, a story went 'round the Interwebs that the mysterious "Poe Toaster" -- a man dressed in black who has been visiting the grave of Edgar Allan Poe annually on the writer's birthday for decades, always leaving behind three red roses and a bottle of cognac -- had been identified as a 92-year-old former advertising exec named Sam Porpora. Porpora claims to have made up the story of the Toaster in the late '60s, and to have donned the concealing fedora and scarf himself, as a publicity stunt to raise funds for the dilapidated church and graveyard where the famed poet rests.

Being as I am a hopeless romantic -- what, you hadn't noticed? -- I've loved the idea of the Toaster ever since I first heard about it back in college. And part of the appeal was, naturally, the mystery of who the Toaster actually was. Was he -- everyone's always been certain it was a man -- a distant relative of Poe's? A fan with a flair for the dramatic? The Shadow? Frankly, I never wanted to know, just like I don't want to know for certain whether Butch and Sundance died in Bolivia or if D.B. Cooper's rotted corpse is hanging in a tree somewhere in the northwest. The truth is always much more disappointing than the fantasy; it certainly was in this case. A publicity stunt? It doesn't get much more pedestrian than that...

Except maybe there's more to the Toaster than Porpora would have us believe. In an article in the Washington Post, Jeff Jerome, curator of the Edgar Allan Poe House and Museum in Baltimore, flat-out denies that Porpora is either the Toaster himself or the inventor of the tale. Apparently, there were newspaper accounts of the tradition as early as 1950; Porpora's story evolves with each re-telling; and Jerome claims to have some kind of information about the real Toaster that he's not at liberty to disclose.

I like it better this way, an elegant tradition and a secret known only to a small handful. And even if Porpora did invent the whole thing, I suspect the tradition has acquired enough of its own life to continue. I'm willing to bet somebody with flowers and a bottle will be in that graveyard on January 19...

September 6, 2007

Young Indy on DVD: What is George Thinking?

One of the charges that is frequently leveled at George Lucas by his detractors is that he cares only about expanding his already considerable (i.e., unbelievably immense) fortune. I've never believed that one, myself. Whatever his faults, however inscrutable his motivations, greed simply cannot be among them. If it were, he'd be a lot smarter about what he's trying to sell to his fans.

No, this isn't another rant about Uncle George's stubborn refusal to put out a decent DVD release of the pre-Special Edition Star Wars, although that is a good example of what I'm talking about, because you know he'd sell those by the truckload if he'd just relax a little.

I'm actually talking about the upcoming DVD release of The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles... or, as the series has been retitled, The Adventures of Young Indiana Jones. (I told you he'd change the name, didn't I?)

The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles (as I will persist in calling this series; hey, George isn't the only guy who can be stubborn when he sets his mind to it!) wasn't a flop, exactly -- it lasted three seasons, as I recall -- but it certainly isn't one of the brighter stars in the Lucasfilm galaxy. A lot of people of my acquaintance simply didn't know what to make of Harrison Ford's swashbuckling signature character reimagined as a thoughtful teenager, or, in some episodes, a nine-year-old boy. (George would ignore this lesson, of course, when he made fearsome Darth Vader into sweet li'l Ani in The Phantom Menace, another widely unpopular creative decision.) Personally, I think the most notable thing about Young Indy was that it served as a test bed for the digital technology that has since revolutionized film production. Still, the series has its fans, myself among them, and I've always hoped that it would one day end up on those shiny silver discs we all love so well.

You would think that a 15-year-old TV series that was a modest success at best, and whose appeal is no doubt limited to a cult following, would be released in a very straightforward (and cautious) way. Bare bones, the original episodes only, and above all, a reasonable price point. I think Voyagers! is probably a good comparison here; it's a series that obviously has enough of a following to warrant DVDs, but nothing fancy. That's what a man who cares only about profit would release, something he wouldn't have to make much of an upfront investment in, but which would return a small, guaranteed profit. Frankly, that's all this fan really wants in the way of a Young Indy set.

However, we're dealing with The Great Flanneled One here, and he has a grander (if often impractical or inaccurate) vision of the properties that bear his name. In the case of Young Indy, his vision was to teach kids history by having one of his most popular characters -- Indiana Jones -- participate in significant historic events and meet historically important people. (I didn't make this up; this is what George repeatedly said in contemporary interviews about the series.) The details of the first DVD set reveal that he hasn't given up on this idea. If anything, the actual adventures of Young Indy seem to have become a secondary concern, as most of the digital real estate on those discs is going to be jam-packed with supplemental documentaries about the events and people referenced in the episodes.

I'll admit, the documentaries are a neat idea; I like historical documentaries just fine, and one of my running complaints is that your average DVD extras are pointless fluff. But here's the problem: these docs cost money to produce, quite a lot of it judging from the suggested retail price on the first set (a whopping $129.99!). And there are two more sets coming, which will presumably have similar features and pricing. Which means, if you pay MSRP, it will cost just south of 400 bucks to own the entire series.

And that is, in a word, outrageous. And, in another word, ridiculous. DVD is a mature medium at this point, and some observers would say that it's even nearing the end of its lifecycle. This means that prices for them ought to be going down, and, in general, they are. The cost for the average, bare-bones television series boxed set is usually somewhere between $20 and $40, and that's for popular shows like Miami Vice, E.R., etc. But here comes G. Lucas with not just one but three boxed sets of a fairly obscure series, and he's packed them with expensive supplemental material that no one asked for, and he's going to be asking for over a C-note a piece for them. And, just to add insult to injury for those who care about such things, the discs won't even feature the episodes as originally aired; they are instead the stitched-together, revisionist feature-length versions that were released on VHS in the late '90s. Am I the only one who thinks these sets are going to be gathering dust on store shelves?

Granted, online retailers will be offering them at heavily discounted prices -- Amazon.com has the first one available for a pre-order price $75 -- but even at a reduced price, they'll be costing more than just about every other TV series currently available on DVD, and I don't believe the demand for this series is all that strong. I just don't see how George could possibly make his money back on these, let alone pull a profit. It's the Star Wars debacle all over again: he's giving us what he thinks we ought to have instead of what we're actually asking for, and when these DVDs fail to live up to sales expectations, he'll probably blame the fans because we didn't support them. Second verse, same as the first.

I guess it's a good thing I've hung onto all my old VHS recordings of the original Young Indy broadcasts. I'm going to need them for posterity, it seems. Anyone know how complicated it is to transfer VHS to a digital format?

Plot Twists and Flash's Fate

Couple of random quickies spotted in between this afternoon's proofing jobs:

Via SF Signal, Premiere magazine's Top 20 Big-Time Plot Twist movies:

  1. The Planet of the Apes (1968)
  2. The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

    [Ranty little editorial note: I modified this title, which Premiere has listed as Star Wars: Episode V -- The Empire Strikes Back. Perhaps I'm just showing my age, but I'll never get down with this episode numbering schtick. The first movie was Star Wars, and its sequels were Empire and Return of the Jedi. Call the prequels whatever you like, but I remember How Things Used to Be...]

  3. Fight Club (1999)
  4. Psycho (1960)
  5. Citizen Kane (1941)
  6. Soylent Green (1973)
  7. The Usual Suspects (1995)
  8. Oldboy (2003)
  9. Mission: Impossible (1996)
  10. Friday the 13th (1980)
  11. Chinatown (1974)
  12. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919)
  13. The Wicker Man (1973)
  14. 12 Monkeys (1995)
  15. Jacob's Ladder (1990)
  16. Eddie & the Cruisers (1983)
  17. Angel Heart (1987)
  18. The Game (1997)
  19. The Sixth Sense (1999)
  20. The Crying Game (1992)

It's a pretty good list, I think, although some of these -- Apes, Empire, Soylent Green, Kane -- have been so parodied, imitated, or otherwise talked about that they long ago lost their power to surprise anyone but the most sheltered media consumer. Still, I can attest from personal experience that Empire's big revelation was damn powerful when it was fresh, and I imagine Rosebud and the Statue of Liberty must've packed similar punches in the days before the Internet and home video made everyone into obsessive pop-cultural encyclopedias.

For the record, I've seen all but six of these movies. The ones I've missed (assuming anyone cares) are The Usual Suspects, Oldboy (which I've never heard of prior to seeing this list), The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, The Wicker Man, Angel Heart, and The Game.

And moving right along, Michael Hinman at SyFy Portal says the "reimagined" Flash Gordon isn't long for this or any other world. Not a big surprise, based on the reactions I've been reading (which range from tepid to loathing). I'm still morbidly curious about it, though; maybe it'll get a DVD release so I can at least rent it...

September 4, 2007

Busy Busy, Some Grumbling About Same, and Iraq War Slang

Doesn't it just figure that about the same time I'm feeling the urge to write some good, long blog entries (as opposed to the short, lame ones which have predominated lately), work has heated up to the point where I'm not only finding it difficult to squeeze in some decent bloggage, I'm failing even to keep up on the mundane daily crap that I laughingly refer to as "my life." Like washing those dirty dishes from the yummy breakfast fry-up I had two weeks ago. They mock me with their crusted-on egg residue.

I know, I know... you're out there making the little fiddling motion with your fingers that signifies the World's Tiniest Violin moaning out a sarcastic dirge for my pathetic whining, and you're probably thinking that I don't have much room to complain because lots of people put in brutally long hours and otherwise bust their humps to make their way in this cold, hard, lonely world. Well, bully for them. Doesn't change the fact that I stumbled home after 10 PM the other night, and my corporate overlords inform me this will likely happen with distressing frequency throughout September and October, and these two facts combined have me feeling a mite twitchy.

Now, I'm no slacker, and I understand and accept that the industry I'm in demands the occasional late night. But I'm also fiercely protective of my leisure time. I think it's important, and that Americans in general undervalue it, and that we suffer, both as individuals and as a society, because we undervalue it. All of which means that when I see my work/life balance tipping too far toward the "work" side -- and I'd say being warned that the next six weeks are likely to include a lot of late nights is a pretty good sign of the scale dropping in a particular direction -- I feel justified in getting grumpy about it.

Not that anyone cares about my grumbling, not when there are product briefs that need to be proofread by EOD.

What I'm getting at here, other than simply venting my frustration over the abrupt shift from a lazy summertime pace to balls-to-the-wall, caffeine-fueled all-nighters, is that blogging in these parts is liable to be sporadic, possibly incoherent, and likely somewhat whiny for the next little while. I'm hoping to find the gumption to do those longer entries, but it'll depend a lot on how late I'm getting home and how much creative juice I've got left after the caffeine buzz fades.

In the meantime, here's something interesting for you to chew on: it's a compendium of the military slang that's emerging from the Iraq War. I've always been interested in slang, and in military lingo in particular. Slang from the Vietnam War, for instance, is extremely familiar because of all the movies we've seen about that conflict. So far, however, it seems that Iraq War terminology has failed to penetrate into the public consciousness in the same way. (I suspect that's because the war itself hasn't really sunk into the general public's collective mind either. If you're not part of a military family, it's really just an intellectual abstraction, isn't it? It's not like we're all planting Victory gardens and buying war bonds, or even protesting and burning draft cards. It may as well be just another reality show on the Fox Network. But I digress...)

Much of the list consists of inelegant acronyms, the linguistic currency of our technology-driven age, but there are some colorful terms that stood out in my mind. "Dirt sailor," for instance, refers to a member of the Navy who is performing a role in landlocked Iraq. (My old high-school friend Tim, who has been sailing on nuclear submarines for much of the past 20 years, pulled a tour in Iraq; seeing photos of him in body armor and tan fatigues instead of the usual blue submariner's uniform was... disconcerting. For the record, he made it home just fine.)

I also liked "fobbit," a person who never goes outside the wire around the forward operating base (FOB); "frankenstein," a truck that's covered with unsightly weld-seams where armor has been added; "haji mart," a decidedly un-PC term for "any small store operated by Iraqis to sell small items to Americans"; and "sandbox," referring to Iraq itself.

And then there's my favorite: "death blossom," described as "the tendency of Iraqi security forces, in response to receiving a little fire from the enemy, to... fire indisciminately in all directions." And why do I like this term so much? Because, as this article notes, it comes from the 1984 movie The Last Starfighter, a nifty little flick that, along with Tron, was a major milestone in the development of computer-generated visual effects. The Iraq War usage fits: the "death blossom" in the movie was a last-ditch maneuver in which a single fighter-ship expends its entire arsenal at once in hopes of taking out an entire enemy fleet. I'm frankly amazed that anyone in the military even remembers this movie; as I recall, it wasn't a major hit, and it has been 23 years since its release. Although perhaps I shouldn't be, considering that its central premise -- an alien videogame serves as an assessment and recruiting tool -- obviously inspired someone at the Pentagon...

September 1, 2007

Adolescent Daydreams...

Remember that yearbook photo I mentioned a couple weeks ago, the one of ZZ Top that my buddy Kurt Stephensen captioned so as to suggest that he, I, and our mutual friend Chad Skinner were the guys with the furry guitars? Well, here it is:

Ah, the fevered imaginations of 14-year-old boys...

I know this is probably of interest to only three guys in the whole world -- one of whom is typing this, and the other two may not even know this blog exists -- but seeing this shot again after so long brings a smile to my face. It takes me right back to a time and a place when you defined yourself by what music you listened to, being cool was paramount, and your highest ambition was to own a muscle car with a tape deck. A cassette deck, not one of those crappy old 8-track things that were still floating around in '84. The car would probably have to be done up in gray primer because you couldn't afford actual paint, not after installing that Blaupunkt. Not that that mattered, though, because the chicks would dig it anyway. We had no solid evidence of this, but it was obvious, right? Because chicks dig cars, man... just look at those ZZ Top videos! They wouldn't lie to us, would they?

Uber Cool Nerd King, That's Me

Now for something a little lighter, a silly Internet quiz found via the Puffbird:


NerdTests.com says I'm an Uber Cool Nerd King.  What are you?  Click here!

Curious, I wouldn't have thought my "Science/Math" rating would be higher than "History/Literature," given that I loathed math in school, loved history, and majored in English lit. Guess I must've learned something from watching Carl Sagan after all, eh?

Being There

Over the past several weeks, several people I care about have experienced problems that have the potential to change their lives. I won't embarrass anyone by naming names, and I won't elaborate on their situations other than to say that they range the gamut of all the scary grown-up shit we never stopped to consider when we were teenagers aching to become adults: medical, psychological, marital.

I want very badly to help these people, to say something useful, but what do you say to a friend who is scared and hurting and feeling like they've just realized their entire life is constructed on a pile of sand that is beginning to shift out from under them?

Once, a long time ago, I fancied myself a great philosopher who had it all figured out; in truth, I was just a glib SOB who had a knack for reciting applicable lines of movie dialog. But as I grow older, I'm gradually learning that the dialog doesn't always fit. Sometimes there's just not anything to say. And sometimes maybe you don't have to say anything. Even when you desperately want to.

Sometimes you just have to listen, and let your friends know you're there. They may not ask for anything, they may not know what to ask for. But that's okay. It's the being-there part that matters.

Think about that as you enjoy the long holiday weekend. I know I will.