Bloggıng from Istanbul, Turkey
dısclaımer --any bızarre symbols ın thıs post are courtesy of these weırd keyboards
The trıp over was a paın, but after almost a full day of travel, now that we are here all grumbles and jet lag seem to have vanıshed. The cıty founded by Constantıne ıs just as awe-ınspırıng as you would expect from ıts hıstory. What has turned out to be a real pleasant surprıse, however, ıs how thoroughly modern ıt seems --an I mean ın a good way! I wasn't expectıng a place that seems so thoroughly at ease wıth the dıchotomy of ıts ancıent roots and ıts current status as a 21st century metropolıs. Everythıng seems to blend ın seemlessly, and I actually have found nothıng ıncongruous about completely modern buıldıngs sıttıng sıde by sıde wıth centurıes--or even mıllenıa-old structures. The Golden horn ıs just spectacular, and we have a great vıew of ıt from our hotel ın trendy Beyoglu... a very comfortable dıstance away from the carpet-hawkers ın the tourısty dıstrıct and a mere 20 mınutes on foot from just about everythıng. Day 1 we vısıted Topkapı Palace... ıt took almost the whole day and was absolutely worth the tıme spent. Tonıght, we dıne ın Beyoglu, and then ıt ıs back over to Sultanhamet for more tourıst stuff --Aya Sofıa or the Blue Mosque fırst? That's the kınd of dılemma we can deal wıth!
Stay tuned for more updates
Monday, August 27, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
We Don't Live In A Fascist Nation
THIS
IS WRONG.
Now, this video is about to go viral, if it hasn't already, so I will not bother giving you much background. You will probably hear all about it soon enough anyway. Essentially, it claims to show three undercover policemen confronted by some lefty union boss and denounced as "provocateurs". These so-called agents-provocateurs are hauled through the police cordon and arrested as protestors taunt them. Dave Coles has been getting alot of airtime on the news networks, allowing him to repeat his claims.
Well....
I believe him
Yup, your eyes do not deceive you. I, Mr. right-wing jackbooted reactionary am in complete accord with Comrade Coles.
It only takes one viewing to see that the whole thing stinks to high-heaven. Of course it is standard practice for the cops to plant "protestors" at these types of demonstrations, as a way of gathering intel and conducting surveilance. That's just common police procedure, and anyone who is outraged should give their head a shake. Prior to the Summit of the Americas in 2000, I was working for Canada Customs and an intelligence guy told us as much in a presentation we were given. I'll never forget it, because it was the first time I heard about black blocs, which I would later see in action at the aforementioned summit. You see, I have seen, up-close-and-personal, the interaction between protestors, both of the violent and non-violent varieties, and police on riot duty, and what you see in this video is definitely not the norm.
Normally, at least as I understand it and based on what I have heard from cops, the plants are supposed to be invisible. They look --and act-- the part of an "activist" or "radical", without actually getting sucked into any of the crazy "direct action" crap that some of the more "motivated" demonstrators (e.g. anarchists)can get up to involving acid, projectiles, and other patently illegal activities. They are like spotters, keeping a lookout for trouble spots at the leading edge of a demonstration, and surreptitiously informing their uniformed colleagues so that they can neutralize threatening behaviour. before it develops into somthing more dangerous. They are grey men --and women-- who are supposed to melt into the crowd and just observe.
This video? It is surreal, really. I'd love to hear from the genius who picked these three of Quebec's finest for this duty. Here we have three muscular douchebags in their late thirties or early forties milling around trying to blend in with a bunch of scrawny adolescent wannabe anarchists. They are so out of place it is almost laughable. But what really gets my underwear in a twist is that one of these clowns is clearly holding a rock --you can hear Coles admonish him and tell him to drop it at one point.
Now, this, ladies and gentlemen, is where we go beyond standard operating procedure and into the realm of incitement. What the hell was this joker doing with a rock in his paw? We have no way of knowing, but I'm quite certain this is inappropriate behaviour for someone undercover and I also imagine it crosses some police procedure line. What's worse is that if he is in fact an undercover cop (and I am convinced that he and his buddies are) video evidence of that rock is very damaging to the police. The demonstrators are claiming he was trying to stir up some violence so that the cops could retaliate, and they are pointing to the rock as evidence of this intent. It is compelling evidence.
The denouement of this little drama is laughable to say the least. A frenzy of sotto-voce negotiations between the three cornered "protestors" and the riot police followed by a pantomime arrest. Conveniently, the takedown takes place in the opposite direction of the demonstrators, allowing dozens of photographers to get a very nice view of the matching Vibram soles on everyone's boots. those Vibrams -- so popular with Tactical teams and soldiers, to say nothing of young anarchists!
We'll see how this all plays out in the days to come.
THIS
IS WRONG.
Now, this video is about to go viral, if it hasn't already, so I will not bother giving you much background. You will probably hear all about it soon enough anyway. Essentially, it claims to show three undercover policemen confronted by some lefty union boss and denounced as "provocateurs". These so-called agents-provocateurs are hauled through the police cordon and arrested as protestors taunt them. Dave Coles has been getting alot of airtime on the news networks, allowing him to repeat his claims.
Well....
I believe him
Yup, your eyes do not deceive you. I, Mr. right-wing jackbooted reactionary am in complete accord with Comrade Coles.
It only takes one viewing to see that the whole thing stinks to high-heaven. Of course it is standard practice for the cops to plant "protestors" at these types of demonstrations, as a way of gathering intel and conducting surveilance. That's just common police procedure, and anyone who is outraged should give their head a shake. Prior to the Summit of the Americas in 2000, I was working for Canada Customs and an intelligence guy told us as much in a presentation we were given. I'll never forget it, because it was the first time I heard about black blocs, which I would later see in action at the aforementioned summit. You see, I have seen, up-close-and-personal, the interaction between protestors, both of the violent and non-violent varieties, and police on riot duty, and what you see in this video is definitely not the norm.
Normally, at least as I understand it and based on what I have heard from cops, the plants are supposed to be invisible. They look --and act-- the part of an "activist" or "radical", without actually getting sucked into any of the crazy "direct action" crap that some of the more "motivated" demonstrators (e.g. anarchists)can get up to involving acid, projectiles, and other patently illegal activities. They are like spotters, keeping a lookout for trouble spots at the leading edge of a demonstration, and surreptitiously informing their uniformed colleagues so that they can neutralize threatening behaviour. before it develops into somthing more dangerous. They are grey men --and women-- who are supposed to melt into the crowd and just observe.
This video? It is surreal, really. I'd love to hear from the genius who picked these three of Quebec's finest for this duty. Here we have three muscular douchebags in their late thirties or early forties milling around trying to blend in with a bunch of scrawny adolescent wannabe anarchists. They are so out of place it is almost laughable. But what really gets my underwear in a twist is that one of these clowns is clearly holding a rock --you can hear Coles admonish him and tell him to drop it at one point.
Now, this, ladies and gentlemen, is where we go beyond standard operating procedure and into the realm of incitement. What the hell was this joker doing with a rock in his paw? We have no way of knowing, but I'm quite certain this is inappropriate behaviour for someone undercover and I also imagine it crosses some police procedure line. What's worse is that if he is in fact an undercover cop (and I am convinced that he and his buddies are) video evidence of that rock is very damaging to the police. The demonstrators are claiming he was trying to stir up some violence so that the cops could retaliate, and they are pointing to the rock as evidence of this intent. It is compelling evidence.
The denouement of this little drama is laughable to say the least. A frenzy of sotto-voce negotiations between the three cornered "protestors" and the riot police followed by a pantomime arrest. Conveniently, the takedown takes place in the opposite direction of the demonstrators, allowing dozens of photographers to get a very nice view of the matching Vibram soles on everyone's boots. those Vibrams -- so popular with Tactical teams and soldiers, to say nothing of young anarchists!
We'll see how this all plays out in the days to come.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
What is behind the "Peace Movement"?
One can begin to form a picture of the typical peace studies student by reading the testimonials by students and graduates that many of these programs have posted online. Essentially the same story occurs over and over in these accounts: the privileged upbringing; the curiosity about other cultures; the visit to the Third World, where the poverty shocks, even transforms, the student (“I . . . would never be the same after experiencing what I did in Honduras”); and, finally, the readiness to swallow the peace professors’ explanation for it all—namely, that it’s America’s fault—and to work for revolutionary change. Many students make it clear that they’re ashamed to be American; one of them, listing her aspirations, writes, “I envision myself American, not needing to be embarrassed of it.” They view themselves instead as “global citizens"
Read it all here.
*****
Bonus stupid content:
Unqualified Candidates. Following this guy's line of reasoning, I nominate Matthew Coon-Come for Indian Affairs Minister, Eddie Greenspan for Justice Minister, Peter Gzowski's Ghost as Minister of Canadian Heritage and Wolverine from the X-Men for Minister of Defence.
One can begin to form a picture of the typical peace studies student by reading the testimonials by students and graduates that many of these programs have posted online. Essentially the same story occurs over and over in these accounts: the privileged upbringing; the curiosity about other cultures; the visit to the Third World, where the poverty shocks, even transforms, the student (“I . . . would never be the same after experiencing what I did in Honduras”); and, finally, the readiness to swallow the peace professors’ explanation for it all—namely, that it’s America’s fault—and to work for revolutionary change. Many students make it clear that they’re ashamed to be American; one of them, listing her aspirations, writes, “I envision myself American, not needing to be embarrassed of it.” They view themselves instead as “global citizens"
Read it all here.
*****
Bonus stupid content:
Unqualified Candidates. Following this guy's line of reasoning, I nominate Matthew Coon-Come for Indian Affairs Minister, Eddie Greenspan for Justice Minister, Peter Gzowski's Ghost as Minister of Canadian Heritage and Wolverine from the X-Men for Minister of Defence.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Two recent articles have prompted me to change the title of my blog.
One was this one in Slate:
What not to name your blog.
After reading it, I realized that Vis Comica might be a bit obscure --and pretentious.
Then I read this article on web litter and dead blogs.
Web litter... and inspiration struck.
I give you the new title for
Litter-blog
One was this one in Slate:
What not to name your blog.
After reading it, I realized that Vis Comica might be a bit obscure --and pretentious.
Then I read this article on web litter and dead blogs.
Web litter... and inspiration struck.
I give you the new title for
Litter-blog
Monday, August 13, 2007
Q & A with myself:
Q. What the hell is with you lately? You sure don't blog much!
A. Instead of writing in my blog, I've been listening to music and skanking around the house. acting all crazy because the Harbster and I are going on a trip for three weeks to Turkey and Greece (and a bit of Italy, if there is any time left over).
Q. Skanking... Is that the dance that punks do?
A. Are you thinking of pogoing?
Q. No that other one.
A. skanking. People do it to ska songs.
Q. When I was in high school, skanking meant something very different.
A. That's not a question. But yeah, I guess it was a vulgar way of refering to people making out, as in "people are always skanking on soap operas".
Q. Do you watch soaps?
A. Not since the early nineties, when, I am ashamed to admit, I did occasionally catch Days of our Lives when I was at home writing an essay in front of the TV. I prefer comedy. I particularly like good sketch comedy
Q. Remember SCTV? The Italian guy who was on at the end is in trouble with the law, right?
A. Yup. Tony Rosato. It's a sad story
Q. Speaking of sad, how badly did
this blogger get owned when she ran afoul of Kate from Small Dead Animals?
A. Very badly. Check out the comments from Kate's minions. She got her own ass handed to her.
Q. Thanks for your time.
A. My pleasure, back to skanking.
Q. What the hell is with you lately? You sure don't blog much!
A. Instead of writing in my blog, I've been listening to music and skanking around the house. acting all crazy because the Harbster and I are going on a trip for three weeks to Turkey and Greece (and a bit of Italy, if there is any time left over).
Q. Skanking... Is that the dance that punks do?
A. Are you thinking of pogoing?
Q. No that other one.
A. skanking. People do it to ska songs.
Q. When I was in high school, skanking meant something very different.
A. That's not a question. But yeah, I guess it was a vulgar way of refering to people making out, as in "people are always skanking on soap operas".
Q. Do you watch soaps?
A. Not since the early nineties, when, I am ashamed to admit, I did occasionally catch Days of our Lives when I was at home writing an essay in front of the TV. I prefer comedy. I particularly like good sketch comedy
Q. Remember SCTV? The Italian guy who was on at the end is in trouble with the law, right?
A. Yup. Tony Rosato. It's a sad story
Q. Speaking of sad, how badly did
this blogger get owned when she ran afoul of Kate from Small Dead Animals?
A. Very badly. Check out the comments from Kate's minions. She got her own ass handed to her.
Q. Thanks for your time.
A. My pleasure, back to skanking.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
The last mournful note
In July of 1861, the United States was at war with itself, and the union army was massing for a march into Northern Virginia. Just before his departure from Washington,Major Sullivan Ballou of the Second Rhode Island wrote a letter to his wife.
Two weeks later he was dead, having succumbed to wounds sustained at First Bull Run.
He left this moving love letter to posterity, parts of which will be familiar to anyone who watched Ken Burns' seminal documentary "The Civil War". That explains why you may find the tune Ashokan Farewell popping into your head as you read it:
July the 14th, 1861
Washington D.C.
My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death—and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
.jpg)
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar—that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Sullivan
People don't write like that anymore, do they?
The war that started out as a conflict over "States' rights" soon evolved into a crusade to end slavery. How sad, then, to read an article like this one, and realize how far, even today, black Americans still have to go in their own emancipation:
In the heart of America, in chains
*****
From another conflict, one in our time playing out this very minute in a hundred towns and villages half a world away: Michael Yon's incredible stories from Iraq More riveting than anything you could make up.
In July of 1861, the United States was at war with itself, and the union army was massing for a march into Northern Virginia. Just before his departure from Washington,Major Sullivan Ballou of the Second Rhode Island wrote a letter to his wife.
Two weeks later he was dead, having succumbed to wounds sustained at First Bull Run.
He left this moving love letter to posterity, parts of which will be familiar to anyone who watched Ken Burns' seminal documentary "The Civil War". That explains why you may find the tune Ashokan Farewell popping into your head as you read it:
July the 14th, 1861
Washington D.C.
My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death—and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
.jpg)
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar—that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
Sullivan
People don't write like that anymore, do they?
The war that started out as a conflict over "States' rights" soon evolved into a crusade to end slavery. How sad, then, to read an article like this one, and realize how far, even today, black Americans still have to go in their own emancipation:
In the heart of America, in chains
*****
From another conflict, one in our time playing out this very minute in a hundred towns and villages half a world away: Michael Yon's incredible stories from Iraq More riveting than anything you could make up.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Is the internets are craving the return of my postings?
I been too damn busy to post during July. What has happened up to this point during the month? Here follows the summarization...
Part One:
in which the brothers Ellard and Paterfamilias Timothy James venture into the depths of the wilderness of central Ontario during the celebrations of the founding of the Dominion (a.k.a Canada Day camping trip)
Actually there was no ralphing... although I think we came close on one or two of those portages. That's what happens when you attempt to transport your own bodyweight in booze.
After he was sacked, Tim hit the sack. Lucky for him Jim brought his hammock!
I been too damn busy to post during July. What has happened up to this point during the month? Here follows the summarization...
Part One:
in which the brothers Ellard and Paterfamilias Timothy James venture into the depths of the wilderness of central Ontario during the celebrations of the founding of the Dominion (a.k.a Canada Day camping trip)
That weekend featured the double Rs of rest and relaxation and the 4 Ps: paddling; portaging; pounding (tent pegs as well as beers); and puking.
Actually there was no ralphing... although I think we came close on one or two of those portages. That's what happens when you attempt to transport your own bodyweight in booze.
We eventually found a great campsite on a lake almost entirely devoid of other campers. We really were all alone out there!
George soon broke out the rod drown a couple of worms.
While we set up camp, Dad was posted as a sentry to keeep a sharp eye out for bears, wolverines, sasquatch, and other predators that infest the perilous forests of Algonquin Park.
He drank TWO BEER. That was two beer two much.
He was subsequently found to be incapable of carrying out his duties, and was relieved.
After he was sacked, Tim hit the sack. Lucky for him Jim brought his hammock!
Later we woke Tim up and feasted upon small forest vermin that we caught using diabolical pungi stick traps that Joe had learned to make when he was in 'Nam. The chipmunk was particularly succulent. We may have eaten some burgers and dogs too. I'm hazy on that detail. Next day, Joe caught a fish and beat it to death with his paddle. It was rather gruesome, but ultimately delicious.
Basically, the rest of the weekend was spent getting wood, drinking beer, cooking, drinking beer, swimming, drinking beer, and fishing. It was a blast. We are looking to make it an annual event.
Part Two:
The commemoration of the anniversary of my birth - Jaimito is 32 and all grow'd-up:
My main squeeze got me new camping gear! She must have seen how enthused I was when I came back from our canoe expedition.
Had some friends over for supper... this old-timer ain't been out on the town since ought-six on account of my bum hip that troubles me something fierce these days, dagnabbit!
So that's how I spent the first part of July. How's about you?
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Youtubitude
Crazy South-African Animal Battle Royal Free-for-All!
*****
The craze that is sweeping the nation
Christopher Hitchens on Islamic Rage Boy:
*****
If the Hamas Mickey Mouse clone must die, it is only fitting that "the murderers of children" do the dirty deed, right?
Crazy South-African Animal Battle Royal Free-for-All!
*****
The craze that is sweeping the nation
Christopher Hitchens on Islamic Rage Boy:
*****
If the Hamas Mickey Mouse clone must die, it is only fitting that "the murderers of children" do the dirty deed, right?
Sunday, June 24, 2007
New Nonsense
Here's some stuff I found outrageous/humourous/generally compelling:
Islamic rage boy: Book him for your next demonstration!
*****
Jaime Weinman blows our minds: Jack Bauer for the Supreme Court
*****
One day, someone will write the definitive history of this operation, and I think it may well make Blackhawk Down look like a slapfight in the schoolyard: Operation Arrowhead Ripper
*****
This is kinda cool: Chuck Palahniuk interviews Stephen King
*****
Tony Sleeps With the Fishes?: Here is a compelling case for the end really being "The End"
*****
Celebrity Colonialism: Brad and Angelina shut down Namibia
*****
Superhero Porn?: Greg Land: Great artist; Unabashed pervert
*****
The University of Virginia takes us back to the Eternal City; June 21, 320 AD:Rome Reborn 1.0
*****
Finally, this should be required reading for every Canadian: Talbot Papineau and Henri Bourassa correspond during the First World War
Here's some stuff I found outrageous/humourous/generally compelling:
Islamic rage boy: Book him for your next demonstration!
*****
Jaime Weinman blows our minds: Jack Bauer for the Supreme Court
*****
One day, someone will write the definitive history of this operation, and I think it may well make Blackhawk Down look like a slapfight in the schoolyard: Operation Arrowhead Ripper
*****
This is kinda cool: Chuck Palahniuk interviews Stephen King
*****
Tony Sleeps With the Fishes?: Here is a compelling case for the end really being "The End"
*****
Celebrity Colonialism: Brad and Angelina shut down Namibia
*****
Superhero Porn?: Greg Land: Great artist; Unabashed pervert
*****
The University of Virginia takes us back to the Eternal City; June 21, 320 AD:Rome Reborn 1.0
*****
Finally, this should be required reading for every Canadian: Talbot Papineau and Henri Bourassa correspond during the First World War
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Remembering Taro Tsujimoto
In honour of the upcoming NHL Entry Draft, we look back at one of the most tantalizing "what if" selections in the history of hockey.
The 1970s was the decade that brought a number of overseas imports to what had been seen as a "North American" league. Some, like Borje Salming, would eventually rise to the pinnacle of their sport and earn their place in hockey's pantheon of immortals, but it was an unknown prospect out of the Japan Ice Hockey League's Tokyo Katanas that was to shock the hockey world in 1974.
Legendary National Hockey League general manager Punch Imlach stunned the hockey world when he selected Taro Tsujimoto in the 11th round of the 1974 NHL Entry Draft. Hockey journalists initially hailed the selection, noting that the speedy centre, who went 183rd overall, would be a good fit with the organization. More importantly, the NHL had its first Japanese player.
While the diminutive Tsujimoto showed early promise in his first few months with the Sabres, surprising those who had expected little from this "novelty draft pick", a serious mandrus infection he picked up over Christmas left him bedridden for several weeks and he would ultimately end up missing half of his rookie season.
In honour of the upcoming NHL Entry Draft, we look back at one of the most tantalizing "what if" selections in the history of hockey.
The 1970s was the decade that brought a number of overseas imports to what had been seen as a "North American" league. Some, like Borje Salming, would eventually rise to the pinnacle of their sport and earn their place in hockey's pantheon of immortals, but it was an unknown prospect out of the Japan Ice Hockey League's Tokyo Katanas that was to shock the hockey world in 1974.
Legendary National Hockey League general manager Punch Imlach stunned the hockey world when he selected Taro Tsujimoto in the 11th round of the 1974 NHL Entry Draft. Hockey journalists initially hailed the selection, noting that the speedy centre, who went 183rd overall, would be a good fit with the organization. More importantly, the NHL had its first Japanese player.
While the diminutive Tsujimoto showed early promise in his first few months with the Sabres, surprising those who had expected little from this "novelty draft pick", a serious mandrus infection he picked up over Christmas left him bedridden for several weeks and he would ultimately end up missing half of his rookie season.
Never truly breaking out in a league of larger, tougher players than those he had faced in Japan, he would go on to have a credible career as a utility forward with several NHL organizations after being traded by the Sabres in his second year, including the Kansas City Scouts (76-79), the Cleveland Barons (79-80) and the Atlanta Flames for his final NHL Season (80-81). Throughout the 80s, Tsujimoto would bounce around the minor leagues, ultimately ending up back in his native land, where he has continued to play continuously since the early nineties as a semi-professional, and later, as an old timer.
It is said Tsujimoto never really recovered from the early setback of a severe illness in his rookie year. George Burdell, who played several seasons with the Tokyo native, had little to say to The Hockey News about his former teammate, characterizing him as "inscrutable" and an "enigmatic presence" who never quite got back on track after his bout with illness. Had he done so, some hockey historians opine he might have opened the floodgates to a new generation of Japanese player inspired by his trailblazing ways. We'll never know.
Bobby Orr: Regrets never having played with Taro
Thursday, June 14, 2007
How about some nice gabagool?
Some people remember the first time they heard their favourite band, or where they were when they heard something tragic happened, like the JFK assassination for boomers, or maybe 9/11 for Gen Xers, for example.
I, however, remember the first time I saw that show about a mob guy who saw a therapist.
It was at Mike Arpin's house up in the Bay in '99. Mike, as anyone who knows him will remember, was a sucker for new electronics. If a video format or new satelite was coming out in six months, chances are he already had it. He had video game systems in his house that only existed in Japan, he had dozens of movies in multiple formats --including lazerdisc --and he had just about every cable channel that existed hooked up to his bigscreen, including a pay tv channel that was just starting to dabble in original programming in the late nineties: HBO.
One day, Fabian Silva and I were over at his house when he started raving about this new show he had been following. It starred that big dude who had that harrowing scene with Patricia Arquette in True Romance
and the guy who plays Spider, who gets shot by Joe Pesci in Goodfellas
and I was intrigued! No shit? I thought that scene with Gandolfini as the hit man character really stood out in TR... well, that one and the one with Chris "the anti-christ" Walken and Dennis Hopper --Come to think of it, I love that movie! What does that say about me, I wonder?
Anyway, Mike told us that unlike network, HBO did not have to insert commercials in its shows, and because of this, the programming tended to be more "cinematic" in nature. HBO also didn't need to tone down the violence or language either, so you almost ended up with some kind of bastard hybrid... like a pygmy movie, or a souped-up network drama.
So, intrigued by all this, we sat down to watch an episode of this new HBO show with the weird name at Mike's --what would turn out to be the first of 86 episodes, as it were-- and, from minute-one, I was transfixed.
All the superlatives have already been exhausted on the Sopranos, so I won't even bother trying to match the praise I've seen elsewhere. I'll just say that it is the closest thing I have ever seen on TV to literature, in terms of scope or ambition. And, what's more, it is yet to be surpassed in that regard. Can anyone point to any other programme on the small screen that painted universal themes in such grand strokes on such a broad canvas? You may be able to, but you could probably find someone who would call you on it, maybe someone who isn't even a Sopranos fan, but who recognizes it for what it is. Is is Sui generis.
It really did rewrite the rulebook of what could and could not be done on TV, and in the process, dared one to embrace it and invest in it. And yet, for all its complexity, loyal viewers have managed to stay hooked for eight years, and have been richly rewarded for their continued attention.
Some creative fans have gone to great lengths to plot out the overarching narrative of the show: who would have thought that the first five-and-a-half seasons of David Chase's opus could be summed up in such a clever way in seven minutes?
I wonder if he'll ever give us an updated version incorporating part 2 of Season 6...
Now the show is over. After a marathon viewing of the last 8 episodes, I watched the finale on Sunday night, and it was sublime. Once again, I'll refrain from providing a review. The final episode has been dissected to death by every Johnny-come-lately reviewer who wouldn't know a goomar from a garbanzo. If you want to read the thoughts of some really smart people who just happen to be big fans, you should go here.
I'll just say it was everything it needed to be, and so much more. David Chase, never concerned about meeting the expectations of the viewer, thumbed his nose at convention with the sudden shocking ambiguity of the ending, and, refusing to tie things up neatly in a bow, the Sopranos simply left us.
The end is bittersweet. Even moreso when you consider you can't really "re-experience" watching an episode for the first time. Like revisiting a favourite childhood park when you are an adult, or tasting candy you used to eat as a kid, the return visit is never quite the same. Not that repeat viewings aren't rewarding, but even before the final touches of this masterpiece had been applied to the canvas, TV turned on the show, like Saturn devouring his children.
Over the past couple of years, instead of airing the Sopranos in its unadulturated form in syndication, networks began wedging commercials into a format never designed for them. The result, as I found out watching "The Sopranos on CTV", was disconcerting, to say the least. The breaks are jarring. The flow of the narrative is interrupted. The end result is a facsimile, a fairly convincing imposter. Something exceptional masquerading as something mundane.
What's more, who would have thought that they would ever think of airing the Sopranos without the foul language? A&E is doing just that, and the result ain't pretty. I now refuse to rewatch the bastardized episodes:
OK, that clip is not actually from A&E, but you get my point. Colourful language makes for realistic dialogue in a show about the mob, and the dialogue is such an integral part of the Sopranos, that when you mess with it, the show suffers as a result.
Let's face it folks, the real Tony Soprano, the Tony of HBO is gone, and we shall not see his like.
Except on DVD.
Some people remember the first time they heard their favourite band, or where they were when they heard something tragic happened, like the JFK assassination for boomers, or maybe 9/11 for Gen Xers, for example.
I, however, remember the first time I saw that show about a mob guy who saw a therapist.
It was at Mike Arpin's house up in the Bay in '99. Mike, as anyone who knows him will remember, was a sucker for new electronics. If a video format or new satelite was coming out in six months, chances are he already had it. He had video game systems in his house that only existed in Japan, he had dozens of movies in multiple formats --including lazerdisc --and he had just about every cable channel that existed hooked up to his bigscreen, including a pay tv channel that was just starting to dabble in original programming in the late nineties: HBO.
One day, Fabian Silva and I were over at his house when he started raving about this new show he had been following. It starred that big dude who had that harrowing scene with Patricia Arquette in True Romance
and the guy who plays Spider, who gets shot by Joe Pesci in Goodfellas
and I was intrigued! No shit? I thought that scene with Gandolfini as the hit man character really stood out in TR... well, that one and the one with Chris "the anti-christ" Walken and Dennis Hopper --Come to think of it, I love that movie! What does that say about me, I wonder?
Anyway, Mike told us that unlike network, HBO did not have to insert commercials in its shows, and because of this, the programming tended to be more "cinematic" in nature. HBO also didn't need to tone down the violence or language either, so you almost ended up with some kind of bastard hybrid... like a pygmy movie, or a souped-up network drama.
So, intrigued by all this, we sat down to watch an episode of this new HBO show with the weird name at Mike's --what would turn out to be the first of 86 episodes, as it were-- and, from minute-one, I was transfixed.
All the superlatives have already been exhausted on the Sopranos, so I won't even bother trying to match the praise I've seen elsewhere. I'll just say that it is the closest thing I have ever seen on TV to literature, in terms of scope or ambition. And, what's more, it is yet to be surpassed in that regard. Can anyone point to any other programme on the small screen that painted universal themes in such grand strokes on such a broad canvas? You may be able to, but you could probably find someone who would call you on it, maybe someone who isn't even a Sopranos fan, but who recognizes it for what it is. Is is Sui generis.
It really did rewrite the rulebook of what could and could not be done on TV, and in the process, dared one to embrace it and invest in it. And yet, for all its complexity, loyal viewers have managed to stay hooked for eight years, and have been richly rewarded for their continued attention.
Some creative fans have gone to great lengths to plot out the overarching narrative of the show: who would have thought that the first five-and-a-half seasons of David Chase's opus could be summed up in such a clever way in seven minutes?
I wonder if he'll ever give us an updated version incorporating part 2 of Season 6...
Now the show is over. After a marathon viewing of the last 8 episodes, I watched the finale on Sunday night, and it was sublime. Once again, I'll refrain from providing a review. The final episode has been dissected to death by every Johnny-come-lately reviewer who wouldn't know a goomar from a garbanzo. If you want to read the thoughts of some really smart people who just happen to be big fans, you should go here.
I'll just say it was everything it needed to be, and so much more. David Chase, never concerned about meeting the expectations of the viewer, thumbed his nose at convention with the sudden shocking ambiguity of the ending, and, refusing to tie things up neatly in a bow, the Sopranos simply left us.
The end is bittersweet. Even moreso when you consider you can't really "re-experience" watching an episode for the first time. Like revisiting a favourite childhood park when you are an adult, or tasting candy you used to eat as a kid, the return visit is never quite the same. Not that repeat viewings aren't rewarding, but even before the final touches of this masterpiece had been applied to the canvas, TV turned on the show, like Saturn devouring his children.
Over the past couple of years, instead of airing the Sopranos in its unadulturated form in syndication, networks began wedging commercials into a format never designed for them. The result, as I found out watching "The Sopranos on CTV", was disconcerting, to say the least. The breaks are jarring. The flow of the narrative is interrupted. The end result is a facsimile, a fairly convincing imposter. Something exceptional masquerading as something mundane.
What's more, who would have thought that they would ever think of airing the Sopranos without the foul language? A&E is doing just that, and the result ain't pretty. I now refuse to rewatch the bastardized episodes:
OK, that clip is not actually from A&E, but you get my point. Colourful language makes for realistic dialogue in a show about the mob, and the dialogue is such an integral part of the Sopranos, that when you mess with it, the show suffers as a result.
Let's face it folks, the real Tony Soprano, the Tony of HBO is gone, and we shall not see his like.
Except on DVD.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Game Two
EMERY IS A HERO
The guy dresses like a million bucks, even though he makes less than a million bucks a year.
He crashes hummers, punches out other goalies, and he stood on his head last night to keep Ottawa in the game.
Like I said, he's a hero.
Why do these fellows look cranky?
Their team is down 2-0
What is the solution?
They need to eat their
DIAMOND SHREDDIES
EMERY IS A HERO
The guy dresses like a million bucks, even though he makes less than a million bucks a year.
He crashes hummers, punches out other goalies, and he stood on his head last night to keep Ottawa in the game.
Like I said, he's a hero.
Why do these fellows look cranky?
Their team is down 2-0
What is the solution?
They need to eat their
DIAMOND SHREDDIES
Monday, May 28, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Thoughts on the 24 Season 6 Finale
How did I feel about it? I was actually a bit pissed at the end. "What a cop-out!" I snorted as the final clock of the season came up. Then I let the ending sink in, and it actually came to make sense. The finale of this season was better than it had any right to be, given what had preceded it. Uneven is the best way I can describe this season of 24. Like the first four episodes of this year, the death of Fayed was just about as intense as anything we have seen on this show, but 24 kinda lost steam again after that as it limped toward a finale. Ultimately, hours 23 and 24 somewhat rehabilitated the show, even though I was secretly hoping that a very-much-alive Tony would show up at the end for the shocker ending that some spoiler sites had been predicting.
What did I like specifically in those last two hours? In particular, I liked the brief “telepathy” shot, between Bauer père and Bauer fils…that was bizarre. There was a good build up of tension up to the climax, followed by the inevitable action set-piece on the oil rig, and the confrontation with not one, but two father figures in Jack's life! I thought the last ten minutes with Jack laying his soul bare to SecDef Heller were particularly powerful. Best of all, the finale tied up most if not all loose threads up from outstanding storylines, laying the groundwork for the “retooled” 24 the producers have been talking about. What will that look like, I wonder? I think you can almost tell, just by looking at the way the season finale played out, who will probably be back, and who probably won’t. Here is where I think we stand for next season, or if you prefer
“if I was a 24 producer, this is how things might go down”:
Jack: potentially suicidal at the moment, apparently. DEFINITELY won’t be working for CTU again… will probably get caught up in some ongoing CTU operation in some other city (producers have hinted that CTU LA, which gets breached more often than the Sabres’ defence, won’t be a factor in next season’s storyline). I know some people think they will be getting rid of CTU altogether, but I doubt it! Bauer without CTU is like Alfredsson without Spezza and Heatley –it just wouldn’t be 24.
Cheng: Hopefully gone. He’s been a thorn in Jack's side for long enough and he's kinda f-ed up now anyway, isn’t he? How do you like your Cheng, Mr. Bauer? Extra Crispy
Audrey and papa Heller: Gone. Their three-season arc has run its course. Jack has let Audrey go… as he should. Please don’t bring this tired character back. Need new love interest! Perhaps…
Marilyn Bauer: I could see her return. There’s definitely some chemistry between her and Jack. And is Josh the new Kim?
Papa Bauer: Nope. Appears to be deceased. I doubt James Cromwell will return.
Bill and Karen: Done like dinner. They won’t be back –Bill should count his lucky stars he survived no less than three seasons on this show, given the fate of his predecessors.
Chloe and Morris: Also finito. Both characters’ storylines have been wrapped up nicely and they should definitely not be reintroduced, or they risk having another “President Logan and Martha” coda that goes nowhere.
President Palmer: Gone for good. And his sister too. PLEASE.
VP Daniels could be the Commander-In-Chief next season (President Palmer having eventually succumbed to his injuries sometime between seasons).
Tom Lennox: Hopefully to return…he was actually one of the few interesting people introduced this season, and as one of the few bits of continuity from season 6, he would be an anchor at the White House, a bit like the Mike Novick character in earlier seasons.
Nadia Yassir: Another little bit of continuity –like Chloe from season 3 to Season 4-- she could realistically be introduced as a transfer to the new CTU from CTU L.A. (Mike Doyle was a transfer from CTU Denver, right?). Hopefully, everyone else would be new AND interesting, unlike Nadia.
Mike Doyle: Minus one eyeball, he can now retire and practice pirate imitations. Alternatively, could be at CTU riding a desk and sporting a cool eyepatch, going out with Nadia, or show up as a cameo, à la embittered Tony Almeida from Season 4. Speaking of…
Tony Almeida: Still dead, potentially resuscitated as a zombie, with Curtis, of course. I can hope, can’t I?
Cameos:
Even though just about everyone has been ruthlessly killed off in recent seasons, thereby depriving us of characters we can be “invested” in, potential non-dead returnees include:
Kate Warner (reunited? She is still the hottest love interest)
Kim Bauer (reconciliation with pops?)
Chase Edmunds (but minus one hand, he wouldn’t be able to team up with Jack in any action scenes)
So basically, Jack, Nadia, and Mike (maybe) would be back at CTU, and Daniels and Lennox at White House. That would be as big a cast change as the one that happened between seasons 3 and 4. Definitely a “fresh start”!
Jack: potentially suicidal at the moment, apparently. DEFINITELY won’t be working for CTU again… will probably get caught up in some ongoing CTU operation in some other city (producers have hinted that CTU LA, which gets breached more often than the Sabres’ defence, won’t be a factor in next season’s storyline). I know some people think they will be getting rid of CTU altogether, but I doubt it! Bauer without CTU is like Alfredsson without Spezza and Heatley –it just wouldn’t be 24.
Cheng: Hopefully gone. He’s been a thorn in Jack's side for long enough and he's kinda f-ed up now anyway, isn’t he? How do you like your Cheng, Mr. Bauer? Extra Crispy
Audrey and papa Heller: Gone. Their three-season arc has run its course. Jack has let Audrey go… as he should. Please don’t bring this tired character back. Need new love interest! Perhaps…
Marilyn Bauer: I could see her return. There’s definitely some chemistry between her and Jack. And is Josh the new Kim?
Papa Bauer: Nope. Appears to be deceased. I doubt James Cromwell will return.
Bill and Karen: Done like dinner. They won’t be back –Bill should count his lucky stars he survived no less than three seasons on this show, given the fate of his predecessors.
Chloe and Morris: Also finito. Both characters’ storylines have been wrapped up nicely and they should definitely not be reintroduced, or they risk having another “President Logan and Martha” coda that goes nowhere.
President Palmer: Gone for good. And his sister too. PLEASE.
VP Daniels could be the Commander-In-Chief next season (President Palmer having eventually succumbed to his injuries sometime between seasons).
Tom Lennox: Hopefully to return…he was actually one of the few interesting people introduced this season, and as one of the few bits of continuity from season 6, he would be an anchor at the White House, a bit like the Mike Novick character in earlier seasons.
Nadia Yassir: Another little bit of continuity –like Chloe from season 3 to Season 4-- she could realistically be introduced as a transfer to the new CTU from CTU L.A. (Mike Doyle was a transfer from CTU Denver, right?). Hopefully, everyone else would be new AND interesting, unlike Nadia.
Mike Doyle: Minus one eyeball, he can now retire and practice pirate imitations. Alternatively, could be at CTU riding a desk and sporting a cool eyepatch, going out with Nadia, or show up as a cameo, à la embittered Tony Almeida from Season 4. Speaking of…
Tony Almeida: Still dead, potentially resuscitated as a zombie, with Curtis, of course. I can hope, can’t I?
Cameos:
Even though just about everyone has been ruthlessly killed off in recent seasons, thereby depriving us of characters we can be “invested” in, potential non-dead returnees include:
Kate Warner (reunited? She is still the hottest love interest)
Kim Bauer (reconciliation with pops?)
Chase Edmunds (but minus one hand, he wouldn’t be able to team up with Jack in any action scenes)
So basically, Jack, Nadia, and Mike (maybe) would be back at CTU, and Daniels and Lennox at White House. That would be as big a cast change as the one that happened between seasons 3 and 4. Definitely a “fresh start”!
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Keep the Faith
To the beards go the victory!
Sens in FIVE.
*****
Monsieur Spielberg, un film avec Tintin....
C'est très cool!
To the beards go the victory!
Sens in FIVE.
*****
Monsieur Spielberg, un film avec Tintin....
C'est très cool!
Sunday, May 06, 2007
I'm famous for playing make-believe and having someone record it. You should listen to me!
Sometimes I am filled with self-loathing when I realize I am one step removed from a movie-geek. Especially when I visit the fora on sites like AICN, populated as they are with so many misfits and creeps.
Call me an aficionado. I have seen just about everything mainstream made since the seventies worth seeing, and a fair bet of indie stuff besides. But, I could not tell you who the Cinematographer was in Chinatown, nor who wrote the script for C.H.U.D. I simply ain't that invested. To me, most movie geeks come across as sad faux-intellectual posers, trying to ascribe greater significance to the craft of what is essentially a bunch of people pretending to do things while a bunch of other people light and record them. This ain't philosophy or literature, it is make-belief, pumped full of ego and hubris and adrenaline.
That being said, I love movies. I don't mean I appreciate film as an art form. I mean I enjoy watching flicks... the same way some kids enjoy reading comics. As mostly-mindless, but occasionally thought-provoking entertainment. That's why I can't take the people who are involved in this business too seriously... and I certainly don't believe that their success in that medium somehow entitles them to use their public profile as a soapbox to preach to the rest of us about their pet causes.
In that spirit, I generally laugh at the earnest, hypocritical pronouncements of multimillionaire entertainment industry types, and I love seeing something like this: Lewis Black on Earth Day celebrities
Further proof that the stupidity of Cameron Diaz and her ilk truly knows no bounds
*****
Iranian Prez involved in hot porn scandal!
*****
Top 15 unintentionally funny comic book panels "Aunt May should know better than to snoop around a teenage boy's room!"
*****
At the risk of exagerating: Elizabethtown = disaster of mythic proportions
*****
Next in the series: Little Red Riding Hillary and the Big Bad Wolfowitz
*****
The touching tale of Emperor Norton of San Francisco
Sometimes I am filled with self-loathing when I realize I am one step removed from a movie-geek. Especially when I visit the fora on sites like AICN, populated as they are with so many misfits and creeps.
Call me an aficionado. I have seen just about everything mainstream made since the seventies worth seeing, and a fair bet of indie stuff besides. But, I could not tell you who the Cinematographer was in Chinatown, nor who wrote the script for C.H.U.D. I simply ain't that invested. To me, most movie geeks come across as sad faux-intellectual posers, trying to ascribe greater significance to the craft of what is essentially a bunch of people pretending to do things while a bunch of other people light and record them. This ain't philosophy or literature, it is make-belief, pumped full of ego and hubris and adrenaline.
That being said, I love movies. I don't mean I appreciate film as an art form. I mean I enjoy watching flicks... the same way some kids enjoy reading comics. As mostly-mindless, but occasionally thought-provoking entertainment. That's why I can't take the people who are involved in this business too seriously... and I certainly don't believe that their success in that medium somehow entitles them to use their public profile as a soapbox to preach to the rest of us about their pet causes.
In that spirit, I generally laugh at the earnest, hypocritical pronouncements of multimillionaire entertainment industry types, and I love seeing something like this: Lewis Black on Earth Day celebrities
Further proof that the stupidity of Cameron Diaz and her ilk truly knows no bounds
*****
Iranian Prez involved in hot porn scandal!
*****
Top 15 unintentionally funny comic book panels "Aunt May should know better than to snoop around a teenage boy's room!"
*****
At the risk of exagerating: Elizabethtown = disaster of mythic proportions
*****
Next in the series: Little Red Riding Hillary and the Big Bad Wolfowitz
*****
The touching tale of Emperor Norton of San Francisco
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Peace-Loving Oil Rich Mordor
Removed, because it screws up my blog template! Can be seen at ifilm.com
Michael Moore's searing examination of the Aragorn administration's actions in the wake of the tragic events at Helms Deep.
*****
My Mob Nickname:
James "Chimpy Nuts" Ellard
*****
9 things I learned about the world according to anonymous
stock photo models
*****
Check out who is encased in carbonite
*****
Writing Like an Executive
Removed, because it screws up my blog template! Can be seen at ifilm.com
Michael Moore's searing examination of the Aragorn administration's actions in the wake of the tragic events at Helms Deep.
*****
My Mob Nickname:
James "Chimpy Nuts" Ellard
*****
9 things I learned about the world according to anonymous
stock photo models
*****
Check out who is encased in carbonite
*****
Writing Like an Executive
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
I'm a Mandarin!
Talent: 23%
Lifer: 59%
Mandarin: 62%
Take the Talent, Lifer, or Mandarin quiz. *****
I was reading a great blog post by David Thompson on cultural equivalence-- David has a blog that explores comic books and culture-- when I happened across a link to this video:
I remember seeing Jeff Dunham do some pretty tame stuff back in the nineties with characters like Peanut, and the Jalapeno-On-A-Stick... I guess times have changed!
The thing is, Achmed the Dead Terrorist may seem like an edgier act, but is it funnier than the middlebrow schtick that Dunham used to do with Walter the cranky old coot? Braver, sure. Funnier? Debatable.
*****
My Favourite Toronto Star headline. Ever.
*****
I know everyone seems to be blogging... but Val Venis?
Monday, April 23, 2007
Thoughts on Bauer Withdrawal
Apparently while I wasn't paying attention, someone changed the name of this 24 show to "Karen and Bill's Tales of Woe and Misfortune (featuring crazy Audrey Raines)".
A couple of weeks ago I asked for more Bauer, and the producers delivered, but now it would appear we have entered the post-crisis period, which like the post-War period in Britain is marked by rationing. Only in this case, it isn't butter and sugar, but Bauer and shootings that are being rationed.
So Bill and Karen are having marital difficulties now. Yeah, and uh... we care why? Watch for Dr. Phil to make a guest appearance and appeal to the soccer mom demographic. And Audrey has returned.. something that is sure to please those 23 people in the continental United States that loved Kim Raver in
The Nine. Bully for them, but for us 24 fans, if Bill and Karen and Audrey subplots equal less Bauer induced mayhem, then I say bring back one-armed Chase and Kim. I'd rather watch cougars and Mexican subplots that go nowhere than this season's three least compelling characters.
And yet, I won't repeat my earlier mistake and lose faith in my favourite show. Instead, I choose to believe that this is a brief detour on the road to season-ending ass kickery... and the last five minutes of the episode gives us all reason to believe, I think.
Apparently while I wasn't paying attention, someone changed the name of this 24 show to "Karen and Bill's Tales of Woe and Misfortune (featuring crazy Audrey Raines)".
A couple of weeks ago I asked for more Bauer, and the producers delivered, but now it would appear we have entered the post-crisis period, which like the post-War period in Britain is marked by rationing. Only in this case, it isn't butter and sugar, but Bauer and shootings that are being rationed.
So Bill and Karen are having marital difficulties now. Yeah, and uh... we care why? Watch for Dr. Phil to make a guest appearance and appeal to the soccer mom demographic. And Audrey has returned.. something that is sure to please those 23 people in the continental United States that loved Kim Raver in
The Nine. Bully for them, but for us 24 fans, if Bill and Karen and Audrey subplots equal less Bauer induced mayhem, then I say bring back one-armed Chase and Kim. I'd rather watch cougars and Mexican subplots that go nowhere than this season's three least compelling characters.
And yet, I won't repeat my earlier mistake and lose faith in my favourite show. Instead, I choose to believe that this is a brief detour on the road to season-ending ass kickery... and the last five minutes of the episode gives us all reason to believe, I think.
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