Back in the Salad

Vacation is over and I'm back at the grind. I had an incredible time and my only complaint is that it was over too quickly.

I ordered a new battery for my laptop which, over-nighted, should arrive before the weekend. If it goes according to Hoyle, that means I can begin bulk uploading photos from the trip. I have uploaded a few and I've created a set for them here. I'll be uploading in fits and starts but when the photos go up, that's where they'll go.

Work has been oddly calm and kind today although there were enough issues while I was gone that I knew I was missed. It's a nice feeling to know the place struggles without you when you're gone.

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Since I took a ton of pictures, I feel like I can say that I put my camera through it's paces. My humble conclusion is that I really really like it. I can't speak to how it compares with others because it's my first but I can say that it did absolutely everything I needed it to and was very easy for me to use. I'm not a total photo-noob but I know just enough to be dangerous. I hope the pictures I took will bear this out.

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Since I missed The Dark Knight during my trip, I'll be catching it on IMAX this weekend. I think I've kept myself fairly clear of spoilers and hype. I'm ready and I'm looking forward to it. This has been a great summer for comic book movies.

Cabin Boy: Days 8 to 11

The voyage up into Maine cut communications fairly completely, neatly slicing internet access and mobile phone reception like a propeller might slice a lobster line. now, moored off of Martha's Vineyard, I'm back in the soft caress of technology's embrace.

The Maine-ish coast was extraordinary. There was something wild about the deep pine forest abutting rock carved waterfronts that could fire images of the virgin land before it was tamed and, though it is in reality not really wild, it is preserved to hold that image and it burned into my mind.

We went up from Manchester, Mass., to Boothbay and East Boothbay in Maine. East Boothbay was the apex of our northern arc. From there, we turned back to Kennebunk and, today, back through the Cape Cod Canal to the Vineyard.

Pictures will come fast and furious as soon as I can get a new laptop battery.

Cabin Boy: Day 7

Another rainy day.

We left Boston and cruised up to Manchester. Had some good geopolitical conversations along the way.

Dinner was served in Manchester harbor. It's a pretty little port unfortunately masked by the poor weather.

Either tonight or tomorrow, we start our push into Maine.

Cabin Boy: Day 6

A rainy day in Boston.

I bought an extra memory card (4 GB) for the camera, doubling my capacity. Hopefully, that'll be enough to hold me through.

Cabin Boy: Day 5

Subtitle today: The Day My Laptop Battery Died. Alternate Peter Sellers inspired title: The Party.

We drifted into Boston around 11 AM. A lunch, a nap, and a party. And a dead laptop battery. That's the day.

Tomorrow, more Boston. I need to rustle up some extra storage for the camera since I can't offload anything to the laptop for the time being.

I saw this eye-fi wifi memory card online. It might be a good fit. It supposedly integrates with flickr. Enquiries will be made.

Cabin Boy: Day 4

It was a quiet day in Nantucket: raining on and off all day. We made a few forays into town but stayed mostly on ship.

Tonight we left the harbour. We're heading, via the Cape Cod canal, for Boston. It's a twelve hour ride. We'll arrive in the morning.

Cabin Boy: Day 3

We made the crossing to Nantucket without issue.

On the way in, we watched Michael Caine in "The Eagle Has Landed".

Later, we watched Jaws. I could watch Quint all day. And I have. Repeatedly.

I bought a pair of Nantucket red slacks from Murray's. It's what you do. Why, I don't know. They require tailoring before I can wear them.

Tomorrow I hope to explore the island a bit more.

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I'm taking many, many pictures but Internet is spotty and of poor quality so uploading any but a few to flickr will have to wait until my return.

Cabin Boy: Day 2

Just a quick iPhone powered missive tonight.

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Today was quiet- much lazing about, drifting like... driftwood.

Tomorrow bright and early we make for the isle of Nantucket, that lymric haven of yore.

I'm thinking of watching Jaws before I go to bed. Good idea or am I asking for some bad juju?

Cabin Boy: Day 1

The day is winding down at last. It's been a long, long day. I took a metric ton's worth of photographs but the wifi connection in port is very dodgy so I'll probably only be able to upload a smattering of images until either I get home or until get to a better connection.

The boat is awesome. We went for a quick jaunt seaward after setting in this afternoon. As I type this, I'm sitting on the top deck looking down at Newport after dark. I am absolutely exhausted.

After dinner, I took a quick turn through town with my Uncle. We ran across the absolute weirdest mannequins I have ever seen. These are some strange, twisted mannequins:

This is the stuff of nightmares.

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A couple of random question inspired by lack of sleep:

• What ever happened to Better Than Ezra? I liked those guys.
• No matter where you go, all cover-bands play the same song covers. Why is that and why hasn't anyone asked the free-masons about this conspiracy?

Broadway Bike Lane Already Bogarted By Segway Guy

(Or girl, in this case.) That didn't take long. I hadn't been up to midtown since the Times, among others, reported on the avenue being reconfigured for a bike lane and walkway. The Times said at the time (haha!):

The esplanade, which the city is calling Broadway Boulevard, will run from 42nd Street to Herald Square. Scheduled to open in mid-August, it will change that section of Broadway from a four-lane to a two-lane street.

Source: "Closing on Broadway: Two Traffic Lanes" by William Neuman

Well, the new look was already painted on around 42nd street and the blocked off space was already the domain of a Segway and... well, I don't know what the hell that guy is riding. It looks like a cooler (not you, Dalton) mounted on a scooter.

If this is the future of the bike lane, I'll soak the whole thing down with industrial strength turpentine. Not that I know where to find industrial strength turpentine... And it would have to be free, most definitely free... Damn you, Segway, you win again!

Working for the Weekend: Vacation Editon

My week ends here. Tomorrow I leave for Newport and the sea. Last night, I spent several hours perfecting a scowl and memorizing several hundred sea-shanties. I'll be gone for about twelve days and, thankfully, miss this weekend's G-train service change. At least this time it's much more straight forward than last weekend's debacle.

In other news, I got the final lens of my budding collection in from Amazon.com this morning: the Canon EF 50mm f/1.8 II lens.

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As I prepare myself for the deep blue, I look back to my favorite marine character, the incomparable Quint. Let the Quint-isms begin!

Y'all know me. Know how I earn a livin'. I'll catch this bird for ya, but it ain't gonna be easy... Bad fish. It's not like going down to pond chasin' blue gills or tommy cots. This shark - swallow ya hole. L'il shakin', l'il tenderizin', down ya go. Now we gotta do it quick, that'll bring back the tourists, that'll put all your businesses on a payin' basis. But it's not gonna be pleasant! I value my neck a lot more than 3000 bucks chief! I'll find him for three, but I'll catch him... and kill him... for ten! Now you gotta make up your minds. Gonna stay alive and ante up? Or ya wanna play it cheap, be on welfare the whole winter. I don't want no volunteers; I don't want no mates. There's too many captains on this island. Ten thousand dollars for me by myself. For that you get the head, the tail, the whole damn thing.

. . .

Here's to swimmin' with bow legged women. Excuse me chief. Can't get a good man these days for under 60! They're all goin' at least 35 years! 45 year olds with women!

. . .

Break it up will ya chief! Daylight's wastin'! Front, bow, back, stern. You don't get it right, squirt, I throw your ass out the little round window on the side! Come on chief, this isn't no boy scout picnic! I see you got your rubbers! Ha ha ha! Here lies the fire Mary Lee, died at the age of a hundred and three, for fifteen years she kept her virginity. Not a bad record for this vicinity! All right commissioner, fasten your safety belts, ha ha ha! If you see a shark Hooper, swalla! Ha ha ha!

And, no Quint-a-thon can be complete without the classic:

Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side, chief. It was comin' back, from the island of Tinian Delady, just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. Eleven hundred men went into the water. Vessel went down in twelve minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about a half an hour. Tiger. Thirteen footer. You know, you know that when you're in the water, chief? You tell by lookin' from the dorsal to the tail. Well, we didn't know. `Cause our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. Huh huh. They didn't even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, chief. The sharks come cruisin'. So we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know it's... kinda like `ol squares in battle like a, you see on a calendar, like the battle of Waterloo. And the idea was, the shark nearest man and then he'd start poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the shark would go away. Sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark, he looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about a shark, he's got... lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eye. When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be livin'. Until he bites ya and those black eyes roll over white. And then, ah then you hear that terrible high pitch screamin' and the ocean turns red and spite of all the poundin' and the hollerin' they all come in and rip you to pieces. Y'know by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred men! I don't know how many sharks, maybe a thousand! I don't know how many men, they averaged six an hour. On Thursday mornin' chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player, bosom's mate. I thought he was asleep, reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up and down in the water, just like a kinda top. Up ended. Well... he'd been bitten in half below the waist. Noon the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura saw us, he swung in low and he saw us. He'd a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper, anyway he saw us and come in low. And three hours later a big fat PBY comes down and start to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened? Waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on a lifejacket again. So, eleven hundred men went in the water, three hundred and sixteen men come out, the sharks took the rest, June the 29, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

Through a Glass

To complete my vacation-ready photog ensemble, I picked up a Canon EF-S 55-250mm f/5-5.6 IS lens. This will give me some extra focal length to what I have with the kit lens.

I also picked up a Canon EF 50mm f/1.8 II prime lens. I think with this trifecta of glass (lingo for the win!), my novice setup is complete for the time being. I think these three lenses give me a reasonably versatile (for my skill level) toolbox. Well, the coming trip will tell the tale.

The boat is supposed to have internet so I'll be able to unload photos to flickr and post stuff here while at sea or in harbor or wherever.

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I'm reading through Exposure Photo Workshop by Jeff Wignall. I find it very well-written, easy to follow, and informative. How good the book ultimately is will be reflected in what I can apply to the photos I take but, so far, it's a winner. I'd definitely recommend it to anyone looking to learn the subject.

Fighting the Power

I just want to send some quick props to Room 8 who slapped away some city attack dogs trying to nip at their Free Speech rights. From Gowanus Lounge:

The founders of Room 8 were recently the recipients of grand jury subpoenas ordering them to turn over the identity of some people leaving comment on their blog and ordering them not to disclose or post about the subpoena. They got a lawyer, threatened to sue the Bronx DA and the subpoenas were dropped.

Source: "Attack on Blogger First Amendment Rights Beaten Down"

That'll learn 'em. No, probably not.

New Toy: Canon EOS XSi DSLR Camera

I've wanted a DSLR camera for quite awhile now but I always liked an excuse justification for the purchase. A vacation trip by boat up the New England coast has provided the reason to break open the coffers and go shopping.

After reading many different reviews, blog posts, and forum squabbles, I went for the Canon EOS XSi (450D). In my opinion, it provided the most bang for my buck under $1,000. While, as people infinitely pointed out, the superior prosumer 40D was only a few hundred dollars more, I'd like to point out that there is always something better for a few hundred dollars more. You've got to put your foot down, draw a line somewhere. My line is drawn here.

This is my first DSLR so I'm just going through the literature, trying to come to grips with all the settings, and generally muck about with the thing. I did take it for a spin around the block on my way to dinner and took a few shots:

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Obviously, more will be forthcoming over the next few days as I continue my experiments. Once I leave for my trip, I'll be taking pictures in bunches but I don't know what my internet access will be like so it may be awhile before any of those hit the interwebs.

My first impressions of the camera are very good: I like it. A lot. However, since I have no experience, it's not much of an opinion as yet. However, as I figure things out, I'm sure I'll post more thoughts.

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G, Thanks (With Extra Sarcasm)

I cut the G train a lot of slack because during the week, it's behaved very well. Particularly in the mornings, it's been running like clockwork. I can get from door to door in about 25-30 minutes. I can't complain about that. What I can complain about is the weirdness that overcomes the line on the weekends. Like a drunken hobo, it's unpredictable, sloppy, and smells of piss. This past Friday night, for my money, takes the cake.

Exhibit A in this case of temporary insanity was the service notice posted by the MTA: for the weekend, the F was replacing the C. The G was replacing the F. Left incomprehensively unsaid, however, was the fate of the G.

The uncertain fate of the G line proper came into play, as it must, right when I was least prepared to deal with it: at 11:30 on my way back home from Savalas in Williamsburg.

The platform was fairly crowded and only got more so as minutes began to drag by without sign from the G train. I kept reading the posted service notice over and over again and the one thing I kept thinking was: if the F is the C and the G is the F, what the hell is the G?

At one point, three G trains in a row came through the other side of the tracks. Also, at one point, a dark G train bolted through the station without slowing or stopping. People began to leave. In the pit of my stomach, a gnawing feeling surfaced: there would be no train tonight. But then why would they let us down here? Was this all a cruel joke? What the hell was going on?

By this time I was hot, I was tired, I was salty. It was 12:30. I'd been down in the bowels for an hour. I made a pact: if nothing showed up by 1, I would get out, even if that meant walking home. At 12:45 an F train trotted into the station. Less than fifteen minutes later I was home.

The rest of the weekend bore out the theory that nothing replaced the G, at least not on this side of Hoyt-Schermerhorn. The problem was that the service notice doesn't say on which side of that station the route switches. Since traffic runs through there in both directions, how is anyone supposed to know which side of that traffic has been shunted off?

Saturday, I did find this diagram of the action that concretized the idea that the MTA was gunning for:

Wouldn't this have made a handy addition to the rest of the service change signage at all the stations on the effected route? Yes, it would have. But the MTA didn't do it. Don't ask me why.

I don't know how many people Friday night gave up on the G and opted for a taxi or car service out of boredom, frustration, or whatever. I bet it was a good night for the car services. I was ready to walk. Thankfully, the whole thing didn't quite boil over that far. Not yet, anyway. Give it a few more weekends.

Extreme Invaders

I bought Space Invaders Extreme yesterday for the DS. I've only played it a bit so far but it is good. It is very good.

Trying Shozu at Maggie Brown

It looks like the only way to post text to my blog via Shozu is to post a picture. I've 2 issues with this: first, what if I don't want to post a picture?second, I don't want to upload pictures to Blogger, I want to use my Flickr account. It ain't over yet but I think my search for a mobile blogging iPhone app continues.

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EDIT: I just checked how my Shozu post turned out and, as you can tell, it's less than stellar. I'm sure you can already see (not see actually) the picture I tried to post is missing (in Firefox at least). Also, there's the intrusive and ugly (if I may say so myself) Shozu logo to contend with. All and all, this doesn't make for a very good first impression of the service.

LifeCast: Fail

I knew I was going to be out and about most if not all of the day (at the kickball all-star tourney) so I figured I'd give one of these new-fangled iPhone apps a try. I went with LifeCast which promised the ability to update my blog with pictures or text from the phone.

It's free. Given that, I can't complain too much but... I couldn't get it to update. I input my blog settings and LifeCast confirmed them. But when I tried to upload a picture, nothing. I get the little iPhone wheel of thinking graphic but no update. Maybe it needs 3G, maybe it needs wifi, but I've been able to upload pictures to other services (Twitteriffic) without issue so I can't find any reason LifeCast can't do the same.

Today I'm going to opt for Shozu and give that a try.

Pics and more from my adventures yesterday coming soon...

Stimulus Response

There's been an uptick in crime recently in my adopted 'hood lately. As the New York Times remarked a few days ago:

In recent months, an old crime has started to reappear... on the border of Clinton Hill and Bedford-Stuyvesant: a spate of muggings that has caught some in the neighborhood by surprise. People walking or biking alone have been attacked with punches, kicks — and in one case, a baseball bat — and then had their cellphones or purses stolen before they could recover.

Source: "Muggings Revive Memories of an Area’s Bad Old Days" by Kareem Fahim

Whether due to this unwanted attention from the city's leading paper or other pressures, I've noticed a much increased presence of NYPD in the area this week. From the mobile command center I spotted sitting on the corner of Myrtle and Steuben to the uniformed officers walking the beat, there is a clear show of force going on in the Hill.

Last night, I listened to a woman ask one cop what it was all about and he admitted it was about the aforementioned crime rise. Nice to know someone heard the calls to action.

My only concern is this: while flexing the law's muscles will surely drive the criminal element into hiding, this will only last as long as the force lasts. Unless progress in identifying, arresting, and prosecuting the criminals is made, all this force will be essentially futile. The cockroaches will come out as soon as the lights go out, so to speak. The lights are on now. How long they stay on, is anyone's guess.

...Clinton Hill, unlike any other NYC neighborhood I’ve lived in, is a place where people know their neighbors. Crime or no crime, let’s just watch out for one another. K?

Source: "Fear-Mongering and Crime" by lesterhead

Quoted for truth.

iFirmware

The (in)famous 2.0 firmware for the iPhone is out like the gout. I heard it first from friend, ex-coworker and current Pennsylvanian, John, and have since seen a picturesque update on Engadget. Here's what they're saying:

That's right. If you've been dying for a round of Super Monkey Ball, now's your chance. The firmware is available only through a direct link, not iTunes, so if you want it, follow the read link to sweet, succulent 2.0 paradise. We're loading it up as we speak, so we'll let you know what's good ASAP. If you want to update, just download the file, then hold option when checking for an update in iTunes -- find the file and let the party begin.

Source: "iPhone firmware 2.0 is live (plus hands-on)" by Joshua Topolsky

My party will begin tonight!

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At some point, I will upgrade my iPhone but not tomorrow and probably not until I come back from vacation (the 18th through the 30th). In the meantime, I am keenly awaiting user feedback. Reviews are nice but I want real man-on-the-street genuine everyday user experience stuff. It's almost impossible to think the new phone won't be better than the current phone but I'd still like a little extra assurance before I plunk down more money and chain myself to a new two year phone plan that's feature degraded from my current setup.

Settling Scores

It has been literally a score of years at least since I had last set foot in Yankee Stadium. Thanks to a bit of luck and the generosity of the brothers Pagan, I found myself back in the confines for a businessman's special against the Rays.

It was a great, low-scoring game, that ended in the bottom of the tenth on an RBI double by Bobby Abreu. I hope to go back at least a couple of times this season, the last in the house that Ruth built, but if I don't, I know I got in once. I meant to upload a few pictures I took last night but I was distracted by my own laziness. I'll probably get them up tonight.

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I've really neglected my videogaming lately (not that it's a bad thing). I still need to finish GTAIV, Metal Gear Solid IV, and deal with my broken down 360. There are a couple of games I want for my DS but I haven't been playing that either so I can't bring myself to spend money on it at the moment. The last thing I bought for the portable was CrossworDS and I haven't played it much.

I tend to go through moon-like phases, my desire to do certain activities, such as videogaming, waxing and waning. I think I'm entering a waning phase.

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Before I forget, I want to give a shout-out to Cafe Martino. I went there the other night for dinner and one entraña later, I was a happy, happy man. I will be back. Maybe tonight.

Strange Ways

I know a guy, a guy to whom things happen. Taken individually, each misstep, each misalignment of circumstance, is not terribly unusual. It is the pattern, the patchwork history of tumbles, stumbles, and falls occuring over and over and over again that lends him a Charlie Brown like aura of futility.

His recent trip serves as a case in point. It begins when he hurries off from work because he's already late for the airport. In his haste, he forgets his cellphone charger. Realizing his mistake, he grabs his car charger to take with him. Somewhere along the way, the car charger vanishes.

His phone's battery has been historically iffy (though I believe he did get a new battery recently). Arriving and realizing he has no way to charge his phone, he takes comfort knowing his mother has a universal charger. He relaxes, secure in the knowledge he'll be able to get a charge once he gets to his mother's.

Somewhere between when he landed and when he got to his mother's, he was able to charge his phone. However, once he gets to his mother's, he found that she'd gotten rid of the universal charger. Now he's living on borrowed charge.

The night before his return, he spends the night at a friend's. The friend will drive him to the airport for his flight the next day. The flight is early. Very eary. He'll have to get up at 4:30AM. He'll need to set an alarm.

Set an alarm where? On his phone.

The same phone wheezing on a stale charge like an old man after walking up a long flight of stairs. That phone. He sets the alarm. He sets it and goes to bed.

Problem #1: he sets the wrong alarm, the Monday through Friday alarm. This is Saturday.

Problem #2: his body senses something is wrong and wakes him up repeatedly. However, sometime while he slept, the phone lost any signal and wouldn't display the time. In the darkened house, he can't find a clock.

It's 5:30, an hour late, when he is finally roused. He wakes up his friend. His friend does not sense the urgency. It's almost 6 before they leave the house.

Almost in sight of the airport, his friend inexplicably stops the car to get a coffee. He sees his flight take off as he gets to the terminal.

He doesn't get back home until after 8 PM that night.

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Look at his story and wonder, wonder at each point at which things turn wrong, at which an in-retrospect bad decision is made, at which an oddity of circumstance bends the action. The tangle of what-ifs are amazing and terrible: if he hadn't forgotten his charger, if he hadn't lost his car charger, if his mother hadn't sold her charger, if he had trusted his instincts to wake up, etc., etc.

I can say this without hesitation: this is not the first (nor I fear the last) of these episodes in which this man is the willing or unwilling star. Yet I know of no one else to whom these wild tumbles of fate are inflicted (or self-inflicted). He exists in an almost parallel world of strangeness in which unintended consequences are king and in which decisions unravel through the unlikeliest of threads.

I am witness to this looking-glass life. I am witness and I am wary, lest I be drawn into that wierd world. Let me never forget my cellphone charger.

Monkey Magic!

The nature of Monkey is... irrepressible!

Why did I post this? Because I could. And I have very fond memories of watching it in reruns during high school. And I own all the DVDs. And I just watched some last night. Yes, I have issues.

Bottles and Cannes

My sister has a plan. She is driving hard towards a career in the film industry. She attended this past Cannes Film Festival via a school program. She wants to go back next year not as a student but as a member of the industry. Her plan? To direct and then submit a short film. Apparently, the actual entry requirements for Cannes are not terribly rigorous. The trick is all the incidentals: transportation, lodging, food, etc. How do I fit in? The script, baby. I am the word man.

I made a deal with her. I would write the script over the month of June and then she would film it and submit it to the festival. It is now July. Last week, I delivered my short (about 10 pages) script to her via email. She liked it which is good since she's got to translate it from page to screen.

From the first, I knew right off the general setting of my mini-oeuvre: the corporate world. Well, my twisted vision of the corporate world. If there's been one positive about my time working for a mega-corporation, it's been fertile ground for the darker aspects of my imagination.

I'm excited to see what's done with my little script. My attitude I intend to be hands-off. I've written it and I've handed it off. If she asks for input, I'll certainly give it but, from this point, it's her thing and she can run with it however she likes. At least, this is what I'm telling myself. Whether I can hold onto this attitude once it begins to transform into an actual, physical, visual thing may be something else entirely. I might implode. But, until then, I shall display Buddha-like tranquility. Serenity now. Serenity now.

I don't know what the timetable for this flick is. Originally, the plan was to shoot it in California since she's there for the summer but it looks like the plan has changed. She'll shoot it in Philly or thereabouts. She also wants to submit it to other festivals like Berlin. The more's the merrier, I guess.

It's all rather exciting but, until it hits celluloid, it feels unreal. When I find the first bit of video jammed into my mailbox, I'll know its real. Whether or not it ever gets actually made, it was a fun time writing the thing and it's really gotten my spirit energized. Now I just need to keep that going and wait for the first dailies to arrive. I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.

A Man For Some Reasons

I didn't have particularly high hopes for Hancock, given its troubled past. While the film doesn't completely shake off it's history, when I walked out of the theater on Sunday, my first thought was that it was better than I had thought it would be. I guess I would say it's decent.

The superhero movie, as a genre, is becoming increasingly crowded these days. Hancock looks to stake a claim in the comedic end of the landscape. As fertile ground as that might seem, when the only twisted weeds to grow out of the turf are Mystery Men and My Super Ex-Girlfriend, you have to wonder about its prospects.

That said, the first half of the film does a great job of introducing the character of Hancock and his problems. In doing so, the film addresses things that almost every other superhero film decline to discuss: the realities of damages from superpeople doing what superpeople do and how people might really react to a super doing something like stopping a freight train to save someone's life. It's funny and smart. It doesn't try to do too much, like explain Hancock. And then comes the second half.

It's always plain where the movie is driving us. Subtlety is not its strong suit. So when the reveal comes, it's not much of a surprise. Unfortunately, the reveal also isn't particularly good. The exposition to explain it all is this film's midichlorian moment. As the film tries to form a climactic moment out of the reveal, explaining Hancock and coming up with a challenge for him, it goes off the rails.

A large part of the problem is that Hancock is essentially Superman without kryptonite- a strange decision given that Hancock is not an adaptation and thus is not tied down to any pre-existing lore. Functionally invulnerable, the movie has to really contort itself to provide a meaningful obstacle to him. In the first half of the film, Hancock was his own obstacle. In the second half, in trying to provide an external villain, the film falters.

It falters, yes, but doesn't completely lose it. It's the film's good fortune that it earns enough good will in its first half not to blow it all in the second half. You'll never confuse Hancock for Batman, Iron Man, or even Hulk but it's not a bad film and its heart's in the right place. It's a heck of a lot better than My Super Ex-Girlfriend.

Random Detritus: Post Kickball Edition

I'm sitting here at my desk in moderate post-kickball pain, going through some things that piled up over the long weekend.

First, in the It's So Crazy It Just Might Work department, a guy named Jason Hunter came up with a pretty intriguing time-travel/fate LOST theory (via LCVG). Jumping to his conclusion, Mr. Hunter says:

LOST is about fate vs. free will. If something has happened in the past, is there any way that going back in time can create a new scenario where there will be a different series of events? So far, in LOST, no one has successfully been able to re-write the future. Now that Locke has taken the island back in time, even he has failed to create a perfect world on the island, much like Ben's time loop failed. For some reason, Locke believes that bringing Jack and everyone back in time and to the island will allow them to use "free will" to build a new, perfect world on the island - where it is free from the rules of fate, and from the outside world.

Good stuff.

Tears of a Clown

Larry Harmon, probably the most famous man behind the make-up of Bozo the Clown has died. From the Chicago Tribune:

Although not the original Bozo, Harmon portrayed the popular frizzy-haired clown in countless appearances and, as an entrepreneur, he licensed the character to others, particularly dozens of television stations around the country. The stations in turn hired actors to be their local Bozos.

Source: "Bozo the Clown actor, Larry Harmon, dead at 83" from the Tribune Wire Reports

Teams of Bozos scouring the countryside looking for children... that's a sobering thought. Rest in peace, Bozo.

Notes from the Batter's Box

My performance last night on the kickball field generated an image of me as a defensive stopper. I guess this is a good thing since my offensive output at the moment is effectively nil. Teammate Jessie went so far as to gloss me the velcro wall. It's not the Velvet Fog or the Splendid Splinter but I'll take it.

My favorite play last night was not one of the overly dramatic looking catches I managed to snag but a play I made in the last game while playing the hot corner (third base).

There's a very large amount of evidence to suggest that an almost guaranteed base hit can be had (provided the bases are empty) by kicking a grounder to third base. The nature of the ball, fielding it, throwing it with any velocity, and going across the entire diamond almost ensure that someone with any mobility at all will get to first base. Last night, at least, this tactic was used often and, being that I was at third, I got to see it put into practice first hand. This could also explain why I got a few line drives my way - errant attempts to hit can't miss grounders.

Given this trend, in the final inning, the girl from the opposing team lead off with a grounder down the line. I wouldn't call it a soft hit but there wasn't much juice behind it so, rather than wait for it to get to me and concede the single, I charged the ball, scooped it up, and threw it to first in time to tag her out before she made it to the bag. Like I said, hitting down the line with the bases empty is almost a guaranteed base hit. Almost. Call me the velcro wall.

Tales from the Kickball Field: Episode One

I just got back from my first week of active duty on Team Peavy of the McCarren Park kickball league. I played three games, two for Peavy and one as a fill-in for Bougie Ballers. While I went essentially hitless in all three games (I reached base a few times on fielder's choices, my excellence of execution at shortstop and third base earned me team MVP honors.

Truth be told, I really made some catches look more difficult than they should have, hence turning some ordinary outs into acrobatic plays but if that earns me some fame on the field of play, I'll take it. I did win my first war wound: a good old-fashioned knee scrape from a catch in the first game. Although it was less than impressive, particularly after cleaning it up, it shows I was willing to get dirty (which I did and then some).

Best moment of the night: for some reason, our team decided to tie off all our shirts to show off some midriff. I am not a man that needs to show some midriff but that was immaterial. For whatever reason, I was slow to tie up my shirt (well, intentionally slow) and a girl from the opposing team (Repressive Agressive) tied up my shirt for me, finishing off the knot with her teeth. It was a kodak moment, hotter than a Cinemax skin flick, and somebody's got a picture of it. Maybe I'll be able to get a copy some day, laminate it, and keep it under my bed next to my special sock. I could go on... but I won't.

I saw Hancock today as well but that is a story for another day (let's call it Monday). I finished up the night with a quick bite at Castro's with fellow Clinton Hill'r and Peavy teammate Richard. One long soak in the bath later, I'm at my keyboard, ready to finish this up, dream of toothy girls who like to tie knots, kickball glory, and the promise of many sore muscles in the morning. Monday morning. I hate Mondays.

Random Detritus: Independence Day Edition

Yesterday ended up more involved than I had originally planned. I slept in, watched some of The Prisoner and then made my way to Battery Park where a couple of friends had snagged tickets to the River to River Sonic Youth/The Feelies concert.

Both bands put on a great show. Favorite moments:

• Kim Gordon forgetting some song lyrics
• Thurston Moore, on burning out a cable, saying, "We gotta get some bluetooth up in this piece."
• idiot who climbed up a tree, tried to play wise-ass and refuse to get out of the tree, only to get out when the law showed up

After the concert, we made are way up to Canal street and found a great Vietnamese restaurant whose name I cannot, for the life of me, remember. It was right off Canal on Baxter street so I've got that much. The food was delicious, filling, and timely. Then it was off to the fireworks.

A friend from out of town was bumping around and we were trying to join up but the way the law had compartmentalized all the streets made it more difficult than it needed to be to join forces. By the time we all got together, we were all ready for home.

I was able to snap a few pictures of all the shenanigans (although not of the restaurant, unfortunately):

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

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• four upcoming Thurston Moore events (Other Music Saturday)
• A Fourth Of July Extravaganzatacular

Happy 4th!

Today is Independence Day and, besides being a day to celebrate fireworks, booze, and bad Will Smith movies, it's a day to celebrate the founding fathers of my country doing things I'm not sure we modern Americans have the guts to do anymore: stand up against our own government and hold it accountable. Ah, well, best not to think about that too much, have a happy day!

The Tin Foil Report: Procyon Edition

His name is Cranjolon number 18 and his message is real. Ok, surreal. But by god, he works within a Human - Terran alliance cavern/chamber base in Brazil. Well, so he says at any rate. This is the stuff dreams and made-for-SciFi-channel movies are made of. Here's what he has to say (my thoughts appear inline in brackets):

Cranjolon number 18 is my encoded name [is love his encoded game? -ed], yes im the original human mixture with terran DNA/RNA, my immune system is more stronger than your own. Each Merkaba(what your spiritual people call)[Coming soon to Animal Planets, Merkaba Manor. -ed] is activated throughly. I landed here from the deepness of space.

1 million/quarter of a half years ago on planet named Procyon -a war broke loose. I was not around at the time, I was taught this from the Elders on the Grand Eagle, we call our star fleets, eagles and our temporary place in space is called the Grand Eagle.

An end resulted in Hazard gases released that massively interupted the entire planet afterwards causing few of us to barely escape in flight of a space war with the Regelians [Oh those naughty Regelians. -ed] trying to enslave us all as controlled hive minds. The point was to run and be be captured under a mass surrounding.

When you have a hive mind [I always wanted a hive-mind. -ed], an entity can conciously be controlled without freedom, all actions are already put into the mainlocation or "base". (What you have on your digital computer, a program)

Rigelians are planning it all over again. If you were to have a hive-mind, without freedom I could enslave you to say for instance have each thing you never knew existed to exist, reporgramming all your knowledge of anything you knew to be replaced with even more intelligence. I could imput an entire rememberance of a book you never heard knew. [I have no idea what he just said. Just saying. -ed]

If a base of the hive conciousness is destroyed, all hive minds re-awaken to that hive who controlled certain individuals. So if the program is deleted the mind gives up what it knew to what it didwith past regression. [Nevermind. I definitely do not want a have-mind. All your hive-mind base belong to us. -ed]

The Hive conciousness base (the Most highest guarded place) has to be completely destroyed or it will not give-up. The vibrations are so powerful they would force you to leave. Not all Hive bases have this kind of power [That's a relief. -ed] to force entry. Others lesser degree of protection.

The Moon is one of the Rigelians control bases. Aswell as the deep waters of the Earth called the Anarctica. [I thought Antarctica was made of land... oh, Anarctica... I don't know what that is. -ed] Among others.

Inputs with beings who had no emotion, the brain jerks back the original emotional structure. [It's like a haiku... of a madman. -ed]

Apparently your re-planned positional future is to live on what you call the moon once again over an Earth panic. True humans are not stuck on a planet away from star travel. Anything you have been taught about the solar system is a implant of the Reptilians [I was about to wonder when the good ol' Reptilians would show up. -ed] who are your Earth neighbor Guardians. Luckely they are ticking with the Rigelians who entered the time portal not so long ago. This Reptilian race are a warrior evolved reptile intelligence, with lesser degrees hybrids they created for galactic alliances or just others who are programmed for war.

This is how we started out after the war with the Rigelians in the Orion constellation. They started out as friends aswell. They are what you call gray aliens. [Damn grays! -ed] They are powerful enough with the Earth minerals and other planet technology to teleport to any location. Each UFO is invisible cloaked and spirit powered through the mind for them.

Russians had the top contact with the Rigelians. The USA became the secound. Rigelians are what we call a temporary agreement. This Dulce, New Mexico that I see on your website will be destroyed [Good riddance! -ed] during an atomic war that happens, Alpha Draconians [Err... who? -ed] are well aware.

Rigelians cannot breed. [That has to be awkward. -ed] Procyon was part of this from the war.

All of them fear your inner spiritual property with the Godhead. [Take that, various galactic powers! -ed]

This isn't the worst place to be compared to the anti particle dimensions. Many of you have double pysical bodys in these dimensions on different earths with micro astral entitys feeding on your negativity in the spirit world. These are what we call splits. They will never affect this current Earth. Astral entitys that feed do exist here, but not as worse. [This just gave me a headache. -ed]

Many of our people had to escape to these places where humans were un-concious with only negative thoughts, trying to destroy others or themselves.

We moved underground risking anything or being enslaved or killed from the Rigelians who were more advanced than us.

If the Rigelians wanted to they could use a laser gun to "make someone fall dead and live as what you call a ghost unconcious". [Don't most guns do that, minus the ghost bit? -ed]

These anti-particle places we escaped to had no sunlight with everyone in continuous repeation of movement, the Earth sphere was reversed of physical negative "moment", without these worlds the balace would not exist for here or other advanced Earths. [Advanced Earths? -ed]

Currently we are in contact with 17 star mapped races who believe in the Godhead, they currently have an alliance with us in the area included governent operation systems under strict guidelines to protect our base from other non-humans who depise us, mostly a dominated race who mass-mind controlled our people called the Rigelians in Orion [The Rigelians in Orion are just the worst. -ed]

Each Terran has element technology, different minerals powered with natural solar energy or highly vibrationalize crystal

We have been communicating with humans for 40 years on the first arrival and departure now and then through
the different star maps.

First I want to say that I take this serious enough to tell you this and want to let you know that each human being on Earth is going to-be set in a massive hive conciousness part of the New World Order [Hulk Hogan? -ed]. The Rigelians call this plan as "Never War Orion" [Very catchy. -ed], they despise humans [What did we ever do to them? -ed].

A nationwide Government would make this the most sensitive type of information, if these the smart reptileswould not want to be known or the Rigels. Now -how would you describe the people on Earth about underground different race intelligence with intentions unknown to you publicly ever since the most oldest of old human civilizations?

Well, the galactic cat is officially out of the bag. Now I can stop worrying and heartily welcome my new Rigelian... or Reptilian... or whomever overlords.

Metropolis Lost, Found

It appears ODESSA's ratline to Argentina was good for something:

Film historians had doubted they would ever find the missing parts of "Metropolis" -- until three reels of the science fiction movie made in Germany a long time ago, were discovered in a country far, far away.

Two film fans in Argentina uncovered the fragile footage in a small museum, earlier this year -- over eight decades after Fritz Lang's dystopian classic first began to shed scenes

Source: news.yahoo.com

Metropolis is already slated for its blu-ray debut next year. Would it be too much wishful thinking to hope this footage could find its way in?

Let It Tree

It's Beetlemania! Except way more disturbing: nasty tree-killing beetles have invaded from China (let the consipracy theories begin... now!) via wooden crates and palettes. According to Parks & Recreation, these little buggers are nasty:

Tunneling by [Asian Longhorned Beetle] larvae damages the vascular system of the tree. Repeated attacks lead to dieback of the tree crown, and, eventually, death of the tree. The beetle presents a serious threat to the trees of New York City and has also infested parts of Long Island and Chicago.

The beetles are known to attack maple, horsechestnut, elm, willow, birch, poplar, and ash trees...

Maple? Elm? Birch? Nobody tunnels through the vascular system of a tree in my town!

As someone who enjoys a good tree, I'll be keeping my eyes open. Let's kick these tree-hating bugs back to the Pre-Cambrian!

Corporate Word of the Day: Escalate

I want to explore some of the words and phrases that I hear launched around the corporate workplace like so many verbal scuds, whose meanings are either entirely defined in this space or have a special, corporate meaning. Also, I want to vent because I hate them. I hate them with a passion I am barely able to control.

The first word that came to mind, mostly because I just heard it, is escalate. According to Merrian-Webster

to increase in extent, volume, number, amount, intensity, or scope

The corporate definition is a bit different, if not in essential, absolute terms, then in the practical useage. Here's how I commonly hear the term used:

Anonymous Mid-Manager: Do we need to escalate this?

And here's what they mean:

Anonymous Mid-Manager: Do we need to get your boss, supervisor, or someone with more real power than you to look at this?

So I guess I would say the corporate definition of the word is:

to demand the attention of a higher corporate power than currently present to address

Such higher power could be a manager, supervisor, corporate officer, or Sauron. The Great Corporate Eye is ever watchful.

I hate these sort of "neutral" catch-phrases, phrases that have their primary meanings bled from them to replace words that are perfectly sensible but might actually relate what's really going on. So instead of, "do we need to contact your supervisor?" which is direct, to the point, and accurate, we get "do we need to escalate this?" which is vague, meaningless outside the corporate cubicle confines, and floats, vague and blob-like, in the ether like a wet fart. There's nothing good about a wet fart.

The Price May or May Not Be Right

The price is out there for the upcoming 3G iPhone. $199 for an 8GB version is a nice price but it ratchets up from there pretty quickly.

AT&T today announced its pricing structure for the next iteration of Apple's iPhone -- which you can plunk down money for come 8 am, July 11th. There's not much that's surprising here -- new customers and those eligible for an upgrade will be able to nab the phone for $199 (8GB) or $299 (16GB), while "early upgraders" will have to fork over $399 or $499, all with a two year contract and $18 upgrade fee, of course. The telco says a no-commitment version of the phone will be available for $599 and $699, though it looks like that will come after the initial launch. AT&T appears to be leaning pretty heavily towards the all-in unlimited plans, but there are options if you don't want to go that route.

Source: engadget.com

I'm still undecided on whether I want one or not. Well, that's not entirely true: I want one but I'm not sure I want to pay for the phone and for the updated service package. As an existing iPhone user, am I eligible for the upgrade price or am I considered an "early upgrader"? These are things I need to know. Somebody tell me.

Mummy Vice

I really enjoyed the 1999 film, The Mummy. I loved the b-movie sensibilities. I had a borderline unhealthy fondness for Beni. It was a poor man's Indiana Jones and I ate it up. Then came The Mummy II and it crushed my goodwill under the steel-toed boot of its awfulness.

Now comes a new Mummy film: The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. Is there any reason I should get my hopes up at all?

Indiana Jones already failed me. That was Spielberg. Could a film by a guy whose directorial filmography includes such gems as Stealth, xXx, The Fast and the Furious, and Dragonheart, succeed where mightier men have failed? My Magic Eight-Ball says, "Answer unclear ask later." Thanks a lot.

I have one ray of hope, one tiny, monomolecular sliver of hope: three episodes of Miami Vice. He directed three episodes of my beloved Vice, three episodes of Crockett, Tubbs, Switek and the gang. That's got to count for something, doesn't it? ...Doesn't it? The Magic Eight-Ball says, "The stars say no." Stupid ball.