Alico Dreams

A Game of Shadows

2012-01-10T22:57:00.000-05:00

*****SPOILER ALERT*****

Recently, the Missus treated me to a movie night: Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows at the Studio Movie Grille. I enjoyed the movie, though I hesitate to use the word "thoroughly." At times, I questioned Guy Ritchie's decisions and wondered about where the movie was going, both artistically and plot-wise. But in the end, he took us somewhere cool and fun, and I give it 4 out of 5.

Three Up

1. The Allusions. My absolute favorite part of the movie, hands down, was all the references to the canon. I have read all 56 stories and all 4 novels. I have spent significant amounts of time thinking about the stories and who Sherlock Holmes "really is."* Anyway, I am very familiar with the Holmesian Universe, as originally imagined. And here's the thing: This movie is so dadgum full of allusions. One of my favorite early moments was when Mycroft said something about "If you don't solve this problem, I'm going to have to go to some rubbishy place called Reichenbach." Knowing my way around Holmesian Europe, I knew exactly where we would end up. And I loved it.

*Here's my thumbnail sketch: He's a fictional recreation of the logical side of the brain. He's sort of the Hyde half of Jekyll, if you traded evil for the Baconian method. Which becomes all the more interesting when you note that Dr. Jekyll and Dr. Watson share a profession.

2. Casting.

2a. Stephen Fry. When Stephen Fry stepped on screen, I thought "No way . . . no effin way!" Simply put, he was amazing as Mycroft and exactly how I imagined Mycroft. All I can say is: Read The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter or The Bruce-Partington Plans. Mycroft was never one of my favorite characters, but to see him played so perfectly by such a charming actor pushed this movie to a new level for me.

2b. Jared Harris. Wait, who? The British guy from Mad Men? One and the same. He has the hands-off brilliance of the literary Moriarty. Again, not one of my favorite characters from the books, but Harris does an amazing job turning Conan Doyle's attempt to escape Holmes into a brilliant, cold, and compelling character. By the way, I heard one group of reviewers complaining about his crime. I say this: At the turn of the 20th century, we didn't have "war crimes" yet. The idea of owning the munitions plant and the bandage factory, then starting a war between two countries that already hate each other? Only Moriarty would have thought of that.

3. The Music. If you saw the first one, this is more of the same. Hans Zimmer is pretty good, I guess.

Three Down

1. Sequelitis. Even with all the good stuff, Ritchie still struggled to avoid doing everything bigger, better, and more explosive. I shouldn't say he struggled with it; he just did it. More narrated slow-motion planning (with the very best saved for last), more steampunk sensibility, more explosions and bullets tearing through the wind. I like it all just fine, but, at times, I felt like he was trying too hard. Which is really a shame, because with a cast like this, you don't even have to try.

2. Lack of Lestrade and Adler. Lestrade happens to be one of my favorite characters from the books, and he was noticeably missing from the movie. Irene Adler I could take or leave, but I never think Rachel McAdams takes away from a movie. These are two major characters in the Holmesian Universe, and they got remarkably short shrift. All I'm sayin is: You should have had Lestrade break up the bachelor's party melee. Maybe next time.

3. Comic book style. If I have one over-arching complaint about Ritchie's interpretation of Sherlock Holmes, it is that Ritchie seems to view Holmes as some kind of precursorial superhero, a sort of Superman before Clark Kent. To me, Conan Doyle was doing more than creating a superhero. He was setting forth a way of living and trying to get us to ask ourselves, Would I want to live like that? For Holmes, there is no maybe; there is only yes or no. There is no hope; there is only determinism. There is no value except the obvious and extrinsic value. Watson plays the foil. He is an everyman in every sense of the word. He falls in love; he is loyal; he has hope and believes in people. Conan Doyle sets the two side by side and asks, Who would you rather be? Ritchie, on the other hand, creates a dynamic duo, a sort of Superman and Robin. His Holmes has no weakness.

But that's better than a deerstalker hat and cries of "Elementary, my dear Watson!"

The Masten Hypothesis

2012-01-05T10:33:00.000-05:00

I'll make it simple.

Δt = (r1-r2) / r2 * t1

That's right. The amount of time you will save by driving faster is proportionate to the ratio of the difference in speed to the new speed.

No matter how far you have to go, it seems, you will always only save that much. For example, if you are driving 30 mph and think it might save time to go 40 mph, you are right, but maybe not as right as you think. You will cut your driving time by a quarter.

d = rt

t = d / r

t = 20 miles / 30 mph

t = 20/30 h = 2/3 h = 40 minutes

But if you speed up to 40 mph, then:

t = d / r

t = 20 miles / 40 mph

t = 20/40 h = 1/2 h = 30 minutes

As best I can tell, this holds true for any two speeds at any distance.

I had a friend in college who drove 4 hours home. He suggested that his drive was long enough that going 75 mph instead of 70 mph was worth the risk. He thought he was saving a lot of time. We now know he was only saving 1/15, or about 4 minutes per hour. Over 4 hours, that translates to 16 minutes. He would get home at 3:44 instead of 4:00. He could catch the end of Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers.

If he'd pushed it up to 80 mph, he would have saved 1/8 of his time, or 30 minutes. He could have watched the whole episode.

So here's the moral: If you're going to drive faster, drive faster.

Very true

2011-12-15T07:55:00.000-05:00

So this is weird.

We all know that the word "really" can be the adverbial version of "a lot": He was really tall.

We all know that "literally" is often misused as an adverbial version of "a lot": He was literally the tallest man I had ever seen.

And we all know that "very" is the traditionally preferred adverbial version of "a lot": He was very tall.

But did you know they all have the same root meaning? "Really" and "literally" both retain their "actually" sense: It's really going to happen. We're not talking about metaphors here. He's literally going to punch me in the face. "Very" doesn't retain that sense any more, but apparently it used to have the same sense:

1200–50; Middle English < Anglo-French; Old French verai (French vrai ) < Vulgar Latin *vērācus, for Latin vērāx truthful,equivalent to vēr ( us ) true (cognate with Old English wǣr,German wahr true, correct) + -āx adj. suffix

Sociolinguists of the World: What does it mean that our words for "a lot" are all related to our words for "actually"?

UPDATE: I just saw this quote from Michael Crichton: "Anyone who says he knows God's intention is showing a lot of very human ego." Since you can't (technically) be more or less human, then I guess we do occasionally use "very" to mean "actually."

TV rots your brain

2011-12-11T11:33:00.001-05:00

Watching X-Files with no lights on,
We're dans la maison.
I hope the smokey man's in this one.

- Ed Robertson (c.1999)

I recently began watching The X-Files. When I first started, I couldn't help but notice how terrible some of the effects are. The kind of terrible that might make you stop watching a show or that tear you out of the hypnotic trance a good piece of art puts you in. But as I kept watching, I noticed that the special effects, while terrible, somehow don't pull you out as much as they could. I think it's because the characters are so interesting and engaging. Fox Mulder with his quasi-paranoid search for the truth. Dana Scully with her bewildered attempt to hang on to make sense of everything she's seeing. And, we can never forget, the dozen other characters, both recurring and one-off, who get interesting little backgrounds and add spice to the show.

The characters make the show, not the mysteries or the visual effects. At least through 10 episodes, the creators of The X-Files haven't forgotten that.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

2011-12-07T07:57:00.001-05:00

A man and his horse trudge along a country lane. It is early evening, but the sun has gone down and the light of the moon is covered by a thick blanket of clouds. The snow falls steadily, all-but-silently covering first the ground and then itself and then itself again.

The lane dips to meet a frozen lake, and the man and his horse pause to collect themselves before tackling the climb back up. What looked like a hill in the warm sunshine looms ahead like a craggy peak.

The man looks around. "Whose woods these are, I think I know," he mumbles to himself, thinking he might find a warm bed or at least a cup of coffee. But he shakes his head. "His house is in the village though." There is no one around for miles. "He will not see me stopping here to watch his woods fill up with snow."

The man's mind wanders while he puts off climbing the hill, and he thinks about his horse. "My little horse must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near." Queer indeed. No farmhouse. "Between the woods and frozen lake. The darkest evening of the year." The man closes his eyes and opens them slowly. What a place to stop.

The horse, as if to show that horses know what cold means, "gives his bells a little shake to ask if there is some mistake."

But the man, too cold and too tired to focus on anything for long, doesn't respond. His mind has already wandered on to the loneliness and silence of this particular stretch of highway. "The only other sound's the sweep of easy wind and downy flake."

The near silence. The darkness. The cold. He wants to lie down and sleep. The woods might offer some shelter. They don't look intimidating or scary. In fact, they "are lovely, dark and deep."

"But," he remembers, "I have promises to keep." He turns his face forward. "And miles to go before I sleep."

He puts one foot in front of the other and his horse follows. The words echo in his exhausted mind. He tries to push sleep a little further away. "And miles to go before I sleep."

----------

My wife and I are in the middle--well, the middle of the beginning--of a long, long journey. We finished one long journey a few years ago and promptly started another. Some days feel like the darkest evening of the year, and I wallow in the kind of self-pity that says, "It's so dark! And it's not even 9 o'clock yet!"

But somehow, and I don't understand this, somehow there is comfort in the idea that others have gone through these types of journeys before. I don't know whether Robert Frost finished his, but maybe that's the point.

Maybe journeys aren't about getting where you're going; maybe they're about being where you are.

Ruff Crossing

2011-11-18T23:33:00.001-05:00

"I shall be telling this with a sigh"—of disappointment? of happiness? of nostalgia?—"somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." - Robert Frost, c.1920.

There are two things I don't like about that stanza. First: duh. If two roads diverge, taking one instead of the other will make all the difference. If I'm at the crossroads of I-70 and I-95 in Baltimore, and I take I-70, I will never reach Miami or Boston or New York. But if I take I-95, I will never hit Indianapolis or ~~St. Louis~~ Kansas City or Denver. Those are completely different experiences, and those differences result from taking a different road.*

*You may be interested to note that I-70 is probably less traveled by than I-95.

Second, the rhythm gets awkward. The words "hence" and "difference" are only imperfect rhymes. Poetry, for me at least, is all about rhythm and sound. That last line is something like the last note of a song being slightly sharp. Your ear picks it up, even if your conscious mind doesn't. I don't like it.

That said, I like the poem. It's one of two I (currently) have committed to memory. The poem has an interesting irony to it. He claims to have taken the road less traveled by, but says that "both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black." The first stage of the irony is the "equally" part: neither road was particularly less traveled than the other. The second stage is the "no step had trodden black" part: both roads were pretty untraveled. So, really, he didn't take the road less traveled, at least among the two that diverged in the yellow wood. Is he lying to himself?

But then there's the other part, the growing up part, the part about how "way leads on to way" and the slow realization that living involves making choices and regretting them and wondering what might have been and realizing the full depth of not being able to go back. If I could go back, would I try out for football in seventh grade? Would I sign up for band in sixth grade? Would I choose Howard Payne over Mary Hardin-Baylor again? Or Baylor over Texas? Would I still major in political science instead of chemistry? Would I buy this car again or that phone? Would I try harder in calculus?

When I was 16, Hewitt Drive was a well-traveled road. When you hit Spring Valley Road, you could turn right or left. Left was more well-traveled than right. If you went right, you would eventually hit Old Lorena Road, which was a little more traveled than Spring Valley Road. But if you kept going, you would hit Cotton Belt Parkway, less traveled than Old Lorena, Spring Valley, or Hewitt Drive. Cotton Belt Parkway would take you to Church Road. Church Road, at the time, was so untraveled that it had a one-lane wooden bridge. And Church Road would take you to those unnamed county roads.

Maybe Frost started off on Hewitt Drive but ended up on County Road 314.

Silken, sad, uncertain

2011-11-13T18:17:00.000-05:00

Real men resign in chess and real men read poetry.

There's almost something Jaws-like about reading "The Raven" out loud. Go now and do it. I'll wait.

First, Poe uses trochaic meter. That's not the dumDUM iamb we all loved so dearly in high school, but the DUMdum trochee nobody ever told us about. Then, he puts together eight of those dang trochees in a row. No matter how you slice it, octameter is always kind of awkwardly long in English. I always try to read it as two separate, bite-size lines. But Poe doesn't let you do that by using a combination of alliteration, drawn-out thoughts, and off-center breaks. For example:

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

The fourth trochee of the first line is "-certain." That should be the natural break. But we slip on the alliteration--"silken, sad, uncertain"--and slide right into the end of the thought. We dig in our heels after the fourth trochee, but the alliterative momentum and our own curiosity knocks us over into the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth trochees.

The second line has the off-center break I was talking about. Instead of giving us a nice comma after the fourth trochee ("-tastic"), Poe makes us take a breath after the first trochee: "Thrilled me." Even though the second line doesn't have the alliterative momentum, it has the thought momentum that pulls us forward into the second half of the line.

Finally, Poe uses an analog to the old idea of comic relief. After five lines of trochaic octameter, he gives us a bite-size trochaic tetrameter at the end of each stanza. For me, these serve as a sort of breather, but the bad kind, the kind of breather you take when you're swimming in from too far out in the water. You don't think you're moving, but you're slipping farther and farther out to sea. Only here, it's the hypnotic sea of The Raven.

Finally, the salt on the watermelon are the sprinkled in lines that are nearly comedic:

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore--

That is, lattice, and thereat is. The man was a rhyming genius.

PS--I just learned the ravens can talk. This poem just went from fantastical to dadgum.

Wright and Haiku

2011-11-01T10:33:00.000-04:00

Good poetry involves the synergy of sound, rhythm, and connotation:

Standing in the field,
I hear the whispering of
Snowflake to snowflake.

- Richard Wright (1968).

Out of all the photographs I've ever taken, this is one of my favorites:

There's just something beautiful about winter.

There's always next year

2011-10-28T23:23:00.000-04:00

Baseball is a tough game. Especially on its fans.

The first math I remember learning was how to figure batting average and ERA on a calculator. I learned my colors from baseball cards. ("Give your mother all the red teams."*) I learned to never give up from baseball.

*My mom's favorite color at the time was red. Ironically, her favorite team was the Royals, but she had a hundred cards of Reds and Red Sox and some other team that won't be named.

I also learned how to lose from baseball.

And the worst part about it is that I can't do anything about it.

I'm not going to say the better team won. I'm not going to say the more deserving team won. I'm definitely not going to say the more deserving fan base won. I don't really believe any of those things. All I can say is that baseball is a game uniquely influenced by luck, and I have never had good luck.

Oh, I do want to say one other thing. I can't think of a single player on this team that I don't like. I'm glad I'm not Jon Daniels. I don't want to try to figure out how to make this team better.

My Weekend at the Movies

2011-03-06T23:41:00.000-05:00

Or, I guess, at home, really.

This weekend, we watched two movies: Helen Hunt's directorial debut Then She Found Me and David Fincher's second attempt at defining a generation through film, The Social Network.

SPOILERALERTSPOILERALERTSPOILERALERTSPOILERALERT

Then She Found Me: 3/5

I really liked Helen Hunt's directorial debut. She cast herself as April, a late-30s urban school teacher, recently married to her long-time best friend and coworker, Ben (Matthew Broderick). One day, she comes home from work ready to make a baby, and Ben is sitting at the kitchen table wearing a tee-shirt and sneakers. They have a brief argument over who should stand up or sit down and who should take her coat off, and the argument ends with breakup sex. The next day, she meets Frank (Colin Firth), a recently single father of one of her students. They have instant chemistry, but they are both trying to get a handle on their new stations in life. Add April's heretofore unknown birth mother, Bernice (Bette Midler), and you have a recipe for interesting drama with some spice of real world comedy.

I've already said it once, but I'll say it again. I really liked TSFM. You have four likable actors playing three likable roles, and you instantly have characters I care about. This is one of those movies where I lost track of time and just enjoyed being with April and Frank as they tried to figure out how to be who they've become. The characters are the strong point of this movie, and Director Hunt did well to avoid distracting us with stunning visuals or swelling orchestral numbers or lampshaded plot metaphors. Instead, everything takes a backseat to the characters. And that's OK.

If there's one thing I didn't like about the movie, it would be that the relationship between April and Ben wasn't developed enough. At one point, April tells Bernice that Ben is the kind of guy that she knows she'll do whatever he asks. That point becomes painfully obvious twice. What confuses me is that I don't understand why she'll do whatever he asks. What does he bring to the table? I guess I just would have liked to have seen more pre-split development.

The Social Network: 3/5

David Fincher, once again, tries to define a generation. He did it the first time (very successfully, I think) with Fight Club. Now, he's taking a generation-defining technology and talking about it. I think he makes a subtle point about greed and loneliness and technology that might get lost without some post-viewing thinking.

The Social Network tells the tale of the founding of Facebook. We watch it mainly as it revolves around Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg), and we see what happens. It's hard to say who really did who wrong, but that's not really the point. The plot goes something like this: Zuckerberg is a brilliant computer scientist-in-training. He gains notoriety by developing a website overnight that allows users to vote on the various girls of Harvard in one-on-one competitions. The Winklevoss twins (played simultaneously by Armie Hammer) and their crony Divya (Max Minghella) call him up to see if he can put together a website they've dreamed up. They call it "Harvard Connection." He takes the idea, pitches it to his best friend, financial wizard Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield), and Eduardo and he take the world by storm, making a million friends and a few enemies along the way.

My favorite thing about SN is that it tells the story through some type of legal proceeding several years down the road. Fincher cuts in interesting ways between the legal proceeding and the events as they happen, lending an air of credibility to the speaker at the legal proceeding (usually Eduardo). But---and this is what I like---he lampshades their incentive to lie. After Zuckerberg accuses somebody of lying, one of the lawyers points out that she was under oath. "Oh," he says, "then it's the first time anybody's ever lied under oath." It's a subtler version of the Rashomon effect, and it hearkens back to Fincher's Fight Club days. Where Kurosawa had four narrators tell the same story four times, Fincher has two narrators tell different parts of the same story. It all vaguely fits together, but we still don't really know what happened.

[Apostrophe: I saw Passengers at Safeway today for $6.99. Talk about untrustworthy narrators. I thought about buying it. And you thought you'd only get spoilers for Then She Found Me and The Social Network. Bah. I spoil it all.]

What did I dislike? Well, mainly, Mark Zuckerberg. And that's a problem. When you have a movie revolve around a guy, he has to be sympathetic in some way. Otherwise, you can't watch the movie. Thankfully, Eduardo hangs around long enough to make Zuckerberg palatable. (At least until Zuckerberg royally screws Eduardo.) Don't tell me that that's the point of the movie. It's not. Fincher bookends the movie (and throws in two lines at about the 1/3 and 2/3 marks) with references to Erica Albright. She is the only one he doesn't screw. Tell me what you think about that.

Conclusions

Rent them both.

The Kids Are All Right: 3/5

2011-02-27T13:06:00.000-05:00

The Kids Are All Right is the third feature film by Lisa Cholodenko. The basic plot is simple. Nic and Jules (played by Annette Bening and Julianne Moore, respectively) are a middle-aged lesbian couple about to bid their daughter Joni (played by Mia Wasikowska) adieu as she goes off to college. Now that she's 18, she can get in touch with her sperm-donor father Paul (played by Mark Ruffalo), which she does, and he knocks all their preciously balanced lives off kilter. I liked the first two-thirds of this movie, then it kinda ran off track. I wouldn't mind watching it again, but I don't really need to.

Three Up

The acting - The five main actors in TKAAR do well. Four of the five are charming and sympathetic. These are people that I might want to get to know. For the first two thirds of the movie, I was content getting to know these characters.
The setting - Maybe I'm just coming out of my winter hibernation, but I really enjoyed looking at all the sunny, warm, green lusciousness of Los Angeles. If movies are about making us wish we were somewhere else, then this movie accomplished that for me.
I liked the normality and banality of Nic and Jules's relationship. The sooner we realize that other people are, in fact, other people, the sooner we will get over our foolish hangups and hatred.

Three Down

The title
1. Option A: I read that the title borrows from a song by The Who of the same a similar name. If so, that suggests that the titular "kids" are really the parents. But are the parents all right? One parent is inattentive, controlling, and struggling with alcohol; the other is (apparently) irresponsible, cheating, and perhaps sexually confused. The second mother may also be going through a mid-life crisis. If the titular kids are the actual parents, then they don't seem to be all right.
2. Option B: If the titular "kids" are, in fact, the kids, then the title answers a question nobody asked. Are the kids all right? Why is that even a question? Is this a comment on same-sex couples raising children? As in, Don't worry - the kids are just fine without having a male father figure, and if he ever shows up, he'll only mess things up. And if the titular kids are the actual kids, why don't they have character arcs?
3. Sidenote: Maybe it's a generational thing, but would the kind of people who name their children after Joni Mitchell also listen to The Who? They seem sort of like opposities to me.
Character development - I just have some questions.
1. Was there any real indication that Jules is irresponsible? The work history I remember is that she went to school to be an architect, but stopped pursuing that career path when they had children. (I would be hard-pressed to call stay-at-home mothers irresponsible.) Then, at some point later, she opened a furniture store that didn't quite work out. (Like Paul said, "Businesses are hard.") And now she is pursuing a third business, as part of which she fires a guy she thinks has a drug problem. Maybe you can say that sleeping with your client is irresponsible, but it seems like two different senses of the word.
2. Why does Nic get to act like the innocent victim of Jules's infidelity? Nic was inattentive, controlling, judgmental, and possibly alcoholic. Nobody deserves to be cheated on, but it's not like Nic's hands were clean.
3. Why do we care that Joni and Laser (really? Am I supposed to believe that someone who would name their child after Joni Mitchell would name another child Laser?) have their unique talents?
4. Why does Nic call Paul "self-satisfied"? Paul seems like a decent guy living a decent life before he met Jules.
Fridge Logic - If I presented to you two character portraits, one of Nic and one of Jules, who do you think would be more likely to have a child first?

TAOJJBTCRF*: 4/5

2010-12-31T00:34:00.000-05:00

*The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, written and directed by Andrew Dominik, based on the 1983 novel by Ron Hansen, starring Casey Affleck and Brad Pitt, featuring a bazillion other crazy talented actors, scored by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, and shot by the renowned Roger Deakins.

Three Up:

1. The Cinematography--Movies ought to be a synergistic explosion of compelling characters saying interesting things in a beautiful-to-watch way. This movie was beautiful. I loved the vistas, I loved the coloring, I loved the costuming. BONUS. This is one of the few recent movies that realizes that movies are less about plot than they are about characters and visuals. A certain director of increasingly bad movies could learn a lesson.

2. The Acting--Casey Affleck, I think we all know, is an amazing actor. Brad Pitt is surprisingly underrated, despite creating great characters in a lot of movies lately. (Did you see him in Interview with the Vampire, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, or Mr. and Mrs. Smith?) Sam Rockwell, Jeremy Renner, and Paul Schneider support the leading duo like professional actors. Mary-Louise Parker turns her 6 lines in 24 minutes into a brilliant study of the devoted wife of a larger-than-life man, and Zooey Deschanel turns her 6 lines in 2 minutes into a fascinating study of the supporting girl of a crumpled man. There are too many brilliant actors doing too many brilliant things to list it all. When you watch it, pay close attention to the scene when Jesse James comes over for dinner. Brilliance on cellophane.

3. The Score--Long story short, I haven't enjoyed a score this much since Moon.

Three Down

1. The Running Time--First, a caveat. This movie is terribly long at 160 minutes. Second, an admission. I cannot think of 2 minutes that could be cut without taking away from the movie. Still, I can't see myself popping it in on a Tuesday night when there's nothing on TV.

2. The Mumbling--Being from the quasi-South (Is Texas Southern? Is Maryland? I never know.), I can appreciate a good Southern accent. Mumbling is part of it. But interesting dialog is only interesting if it is understood. I think I missed out on half of the great lines.

3. The Long Title--I dread telling my friends at work, "Have you seen The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford? It's great!" And, since I have a Texas mumbling drawl, they'll be all like "Wha--???" and I'll have to repeat it. And I can't shorten it because I despise shortening titles. Sigh.

Stargazing in the Wee Hours of December 21, 2010

2010-12-21T23:59:00.000-05:00

The moon in the sky is a peach
That dropped in and bounced out of the bleach.
I'd go if I could.
I hope that you would.
So let's gaze at the stars and let's dream.

We lay on our backs and we stare
Past the trees and the dust in the air
What's up with the moon?
It's orange, not blue.
It's the end of the world--I'm scared.

The moon hides behind its big brother
To get out of the glare of its mother
It'd rather be seen
In a faint orange gleam
Than to be drowned in her kisses and smother

A sign of the end of the times:
The moon is a fat copper dime.
So turn back to God
You ignorant sod
And don't be the one left behind.

I hope you enjoyed these weak rhymes,
That they feel on your lips like cheap wine.
Now, I know the truth--
So don't disabuse
By complaining I've wasted your time.

The Inverted Pyramid

2010-12-16T06:45:00.000-05:00

According to Wikipedia:

The inverted pyramid is a metaphor used by journalists and other writers to illustrate the placing of the most important information first within a text. It is a common method for writing news stories and is widely taught to journalism students.

I guess nobody taught the AP staff covering the Baylor-Bethune-Cookman game that. This little nugget of trivia is stuck down in the very last paragraph of Yahoo!'s version of the copy:

Baylor’s [school record] 12 wins in a row at the Ferrell Center isn’t even the longest active winning streak by a Big 12 men’s team in the building. Oklahoma has won 14 in a row there.

Come on. How is that not lede material?

Philadelphia Heat

2010-12-14T07:07:00.000-05:00

Wow.

Cliff Lee has signed with the Phillies. No Rangers, no Yankees, just Phillies. That makes him (apparently) the second starter after Roy Halladay and before Roy Oswalt and Cole Hamels. I don't want to say anything rude, but I hope that the Phillies flop and die.

I hope the Giants go 7-155 next year.

Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang: 4/5

2010-12-11T23:48:00.001-05:00

SPOILER ALERT

Basically, Harry Lockhart (Robert Downey Jr.) accidentally lands a role in some movie, gets shipped out west to L.A., meets Gay Perry (Val Kilmer), learns how to be a P.I., and reunites with his first love (Michelle Monaghan). Oh, Shane Black (Predator) writes and directs.

THREE UP

1. The Characters - A post is brewing in my head about how characters are the real meat of any story, be it written, spoken, or shown. The characters in a story are what brings people back to it years and years down the road. Harry, Gay Perry, and Harmony are the kind of people I want to hang out with for a couple of hours. (I don't know how long this movie was, sorta like losing track of time while hanging out with friends.) I can't say much about the characters that will explain why I like them, but I'll try. Harry is a lovable Every Man who walks the fine (in the movies) line between irrelevant brilliance and hopeless incompetence. Gay Perry has the competence and confidence that makes you want to be his friend, as well as the social resistance that makes him irresistible (especially when he agrees to be your friend). And Harmony has the brains, the body, and the face of the girl you hope you marry. Why wouldn't you want to hang out with these people?

2. The Opening Sequence - It reminded me of my favorite opening sequence of all time.

3. The Depth - I am POSITIVE that there is more to this than one viewing can reveal. For example, the title comes from an Italian movie poster which, translated, said simply, "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang." According to a famous reviewer, those four words are "perhaps the briefest statement imaginable of the basic appeal of movies." That is, we watch movies to imagine ourselves living a life full of sex and violence. A lot of bad movies will use sex or violence (usually both) to pump up a dead scene or draw in crowds that wouldn't otherwise watch the movie. I like to call that "gratuitous sex or violence (usually both)." Ironically, almost all the sex and violence in this movie serves some purpose within the movie, beyond mere gratuity. (The lone exception I can think of is itself an allusion to how Hollywood exploits young actresses, which, some say, is Shane Black's theme.) So, all that to say, a movie promising sex and violence from the title card that limits itself to meaningful sex and violence? There must be more here than meets the first viewing.

Three Down

1. End Credits - First, this was quite possibly the most disappointing end credits I've ever seen. Please note my use of the word "disappointing" rather than bad. The end credits were fine, but even bad movies usually get that part right. Happy (bad) movies end with happy music; sappy (bad) movies end with some sappy song. You want triumphant or introspective or celebratory music that resounds with the ending of the movie, not some random, disconnected song. Maybe these end credits can be explained by 3-Up, but this fan-of-end-credits-music was not happy.

2. The Plot - I know it's a parody, but I would have liked a little more sense. At least, something a little clearer about what the plot was supposed to be. I will admit, though, that using the telegraphed "hint" about the two deaths being connected (as in, a double murder) as a red herring was alright. After a week's thinking, I'll also admit that the plot falls clearly within 3-Up as well.

3. The Finger - I am really confused about (a) how a slamming apartment door could cut a finger off so cleanly and (b) how exactly he lost his right ring finger. I can't figure it out. Is Shane Black making fun of me? Try it and let me know what happens.

Do the Paul Morphy

2010-12-05T17:35:00.000-05:00

The joy in a battle of chess
Is fighting your damnable best.
But I like to win
Again and again:
Losing's a pain in the neck.

Teleology

2010-12-01T00:15:00.003-05:00

They tell me that one death is fine
As long as at least two survive.
But what if my two
Go blow up a nuke?
Equations go weak late at night.

To a Confused Friend

2010-11-30T08:05:00.000-05:00

The girl is a keeper, I say,
Agreeable most of the way.
But if she turns mean,
Remember she's been
Wearing those heels every day.

Game 1 of the Most Exciting World Series Ever

2010-10-28T08:13:00.000-04:00

So that didn't quite go according to plan. For the Rangers: Cliff Lee gave up 7 runs (6 earned) got chased in the 5th and suffered his first postseason loss ever; Vladimir Guerrero had trouble in right field; Michael Young and Josh Hamilton combined to go 0-for-8; Young and Elvis Andrus bobbled plays they normally make. For the Giants: Tim Lincecum gave up 4 runs and got chased in the 6th; the Giants' bullpen gave up 3 runs (all with Brian Wilson on the mound). The stat book: 10 doubles in the game (4 by the Rangers, 6 by the Giants).

Three Up

1. The Rangers' lineup - Numbers 2 through 5 in the lineup (Young, Hamilton, Guerrero, and Nelson Cruz) combined for an awful 2-for-17, but the Rangers still scored 7 runs? Clearly, this lineup knows how to hit. (Bonus points to Elvis: his leadoff single extended his start-of-his-postseason-career hitting streak to 12 games.)

2. The Rangers' resilience - (a) Down 8-2 against Lincecum with 2 outs in the 6th, the Rangers refused to give up. Ian Kinsler walked; Bengie "The Vacuum" Molina doubled him in (8-3); Mitch Moreland singled off Lincecum's leg to put runners on the corners; and David Murphy singled to right, scoring Molina (8-4) and chasing Lincecum. (b) Down 11-4 against the Giants' reputedly lights-out bullpen in the 9th, Julio Borbon led off with a single. Elvis Andrus walked. Josh Hamilton drew a walk after Michael Young's flyout. Hamilton's walk loaded the bases with only 1 out for Vlad. The Giants brought in their version of Mariano Rivera. (Brian Wilson entered the game with 12 strikeouts in 9 innings pitched, having given up only 1 run on 4 hits this October.) Wilson's third pitch to Vlad went deep into right, scoring Borbon from third. Two pitches later, Nelson Cruz dropped one near the wall for a 2-run double. Faint praise indeed: "Wilson got the Giants out of a bases-loaded, 1-out jam and limited the Rangers to only 3 runs." No, the runs won't be held against him, but he is clearly not invincible.

3. The Rangers' bullpen - Take out Mark Lowe (who made his postseason debut), and the Rangers' bullpen gave up only 1 run on 3 hits with 0 walks and 5 strikeouts in 2-2/3 innings. (That one run came off the bullpen's third pitch, the one Juan Uribe deposited in the left field stands.) Alexi Ogando got his 6 outs from Freddy Sanchez, Buster Posey, Pat Burrell, Cody Ross, Aubrey Huff, and Juan Uribe (a/k/a, the heart and soul of the Giants' lineup). In other words, take away Cliff Lee's unrecognizable 5th inning, and the Rangers win 7-5. (Of course, take away Tim Lincecum's unrecognizable 1st, 2d, and 6th, and the Rangers lose 5-3.) After the first batter went deep on this young bullpen, you probably thought they would fold. They didn't.

Three Down

1. The Rangers lost.

2. Cliff Lee proved himself human.

3. All the professional writers will make this sound like a blowout. Anybody who watched it and cares enough to think their own thoughts will realize it was just a sloppy game on both sides. Both teams proved themselves vincible.

The Rangers Win the Pennant

2010-10-23T16:58:00.000-04:00

"No more words." - Javert, Les Miserables.

When Neftali Feliz's slider slid past Alex Rodriguez to make the Rangers the 2010 American League Champions, I had no words.

I remember the day I "became" a Rangers fan. I was walking around, thinking really hard about which team was my favorite baseball team. I kept going back and forth between the Rangers, the Athletics, the Blue Jays, and the Mets. The Rangers were the home team; the A's had Rickey Henderson; the Jays were the best team in baseball; and the Mets were just plain exciting (little did I know that they frequently engage in buying up established stars who promptly forget how to play). I thought to myself, "I always come back to the Rangers." Then they traded for Jose Canseco, Kevin Brown won 21 games, and "they" became "we."

That was 1992. This is 2010. Eighteen years in the making, I am finally rooting for the American League champions.

Game 5

2010-10-20T20:58:00.000-04:00

Dear Rangers fans, both fair-weather and die-hard,

Fear not. Tonight's loss was expected. The Yankees are great because (a) they have more money than God, (b) they play in a weak division, and (c) they understand that baseball is about endurance, and they endure. They won Game 5. They will lose Game 6 or Game 7. CC Sabathia is an excellent pitcher. Phil Hughes and Andy Pettitte are not (any more).

Dear Yankees fans, mostly fair-weather since you don't know what a rain storm looks like,

Be afraid. Tonight's win was expected. CC needed to avenge himself. He has. Sorta. Now you rest your hopes on Phil Hughes and Andy Pettitte. I wish you luck, only not really. You need to know what a rainstorm feels like. Losing in the ALCS won't teach you that, but it's a start.

Trust the Hitch

2010-09-30T07:02:00.000-04:00

Alfred Hitchcock said:

The length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder.

He was looking at you, James Cameron.

Psycho: 4 or 5/5

2010-09-25T15:46:00.000-04:00

SPOILER ALERT

Psycho is probably my favorite Hitchcock. I've read that he directed it in the aftermath of North by Northwest (not my favorite Hitchcock) and wanted to do something cheap and fun. He secured an itty bitty budget, borrowed a production crew from his TV show, and headed out to Arizona (maybe it was California). Next thing you know, we have one of the best horror films ever made.

Three Up

1. Starting small, there's a great scene with Arbogast that is full of Hitchcock's dry wit. Arbogast is visiting the Bates Hotel for the second time. You'll remember that, during the first visit, Arbogast had really pushed Norman's buttons. This time, he bypasses Norman and goes straight for the house. He opens the door without knocking, but takes his hat off before entering. Yes: Arbogast has enough manners to take his hat off inside, not enough to knock.

2. Another piece of dry humor: The movie starts off with Marion stealing $40,000. She can't make it all the way to Fairvale, so she takes a nap on the road side. She sleeps all night and gets awakened by a cop. He is pretty clearly (to us) trying to make sure she's OK, but she obviously thinks he knows about the money. Later, after Norman kills her and Arbogast comes by, Norman thinks that Arbogast knows about the murder when Arbogast is really only investigating the missing money. A little comment about how we're always a step behind real life, perhaps?

3. I've always wondered how Psycho survives so well without any real protaganist. First, we have Marion Crane, but she dies only halfway through. Then, we sorta have Norman, but his major screen time doesn't last long. Then, we get Arbogast, but he gets killed. Next, we switch to Sam and Lila hunting down Arbogast, but in the last scene, they give way to the psychiatrist explaining Norman's condition. And in the final scene, Mrs. Bates takes the stage and chills us to the bone with that look of hers. This parade of 6 characters--or, shall we say, "personalities"--shuffle onto the stage and fight for control of the movie. Sorta like how Norman and Mrs. Bates fought for control of his psyche, eh?

I don't have three down. That's how much I like this movie. They say it's not his best, but I'm really having trouble finding something I don't like about it.

A little too Byronic

2010-09-20T22:54:00.000-04:00

Poetry is more than rhyming words. That's why I love these three lines by the master of Byronic poetry

This is the patent age of new inventionsFor killing bodies, and for saving souls,All propagated with the best intentions.

That stop? That line break after "inventions"? The expectation that builds up (and the next line ironically knocks down)--and the good sense to write it down--is why he will be remembered as long as people speak English and you and I probably won't be.

The Third Man: 3/5

2010-09-20T22:29:00.000-04:00

SPOILER ALERT

The Third Man (1949) is my first exposure to Carol Reed and my second to the Joseph Cotten/Orson Welles duo. Graham Greene wrote the screenplay (and simultaneously released novelette). The basic premise is that Holly Martins (Cotten) reports to work in post-war Vienna only to find that his best friend and employer, Harry Lime (Welles), has been run over by a truck in front of his house. But something is amiss in Vienna, and Holly, a penniless Western pulp writer, tries to play sleuth and figure it out. Along the way, he kills his best friend and tries to steal his girl. He fails, so he ends up penniless and friendless. But he has the esteem of the British government, so that's nice.

Three Up

1. The best part of the movie is its ending. Holly lures Harry into a trap, helps chase him into the sewers, and eventually fires the shot that kills him. After Harry's second funeral (a nice bookend), Holly and Major Calloway drive past Harry's girl Anna (Alida Valli) walking back to the city. Holly gets out and waits for Anna. He's ready to inherit Harry's girl, but she walks right past him without even a sideways glance.

Why is that so awesome? Well, it suggests an answer to the film's central question: whether it is OK to kill one person so thousands may live. Reed doesn't tell us. Instead, he reminds us that, either way, there are consequences. Society's anonymous and short-lived appreciation but the condemnation of your friends and loved ones, or the opposite.

And second, it suggests a difference between men and women, Americans and Eastern Europeans. Men and Americans stereotypically view the world romantically, while women and Eastern Europeans stereotypically view the world pragmatically. Anna doesn't embrace Holly as the hero who saved countless children's lives; she rejects him as the bastard who trapped and killed the love of her life. And it is beautiful.

2. The unusual soundtrack is great. Anton Karas composed and performed the soundtrack on a zither, a native Austrian instrument. Sometimes, the jangly upbeat music jars with the noirish atmosphere, but it belongs to the scene. I also liked all the untranslated speaking in German. Not only do we see weird visuals, but we hear unfamiliar sounds. The cumulative effect is to help put us in Holly's shoes: we, too, are strangers in a strange land who (literally) don't know where to turn.

3. Major Calloway (Trevor Howard) is a great, great character. I know that Harry Lime is probably the most famous character from this movie (and even had his own radio show spin-off), but I preferred Major Calloway. He personifies the romantic pragmatism of the British so perfectly. Most movies that deal with the conflict of romanticism and pragmatism present one side as obviously right and the other as obviously wrong. Without Howard's suave performance as the British major trying to make Vienna safe for children, this movie would fall into the same trap.

Three Down

1. Meaningless name mix-ups. Holly kept calling Calloway "Callahan." Anna kept calling Holly "Harry." And Holly kept pronouncing Dr. Winkel's name wrong (with an American W instead of an Austrian V). As far as I can tell, these three don't do anything more than (a) show Holly's disregard for Calloway, (b) show that Anna still loves Harry, and (c) show Holly's stereotypical American ignorance. Faux symbolism annoys me, but accidental symbolism is even worse. Graham Greene and Carol Reed are professionals. They should have known the value of names and done something with it. They should have known that doing it three times makes me think it's worth something.

2. Some people love the almost constant Dutch angle. I don't. I get the artistic choice, but I don't dig it. That's all I got on that one.

3. I realize this is a classic film noir, but there was a little too much noir for my taste. I dig the deep blacks of film as much as anybody, but it annoys me when I can't figure out what's going on (not metaphysically; I mean I literally couldn't tell what was on my screen at some points). Blame it on my TV, blame it on Netflix Instant Queue, blame it on the bossanova, but I don't like it.

Closing Statement

The Third Man is regarded as a film noir classic. It's # 65 on IMDb and # 534 on FlickChart. The AFI ranked Harry Lime # 37 in its list of the top 100 villains in cinema, the movie # 57 on its first list of top 100 movies, # 75 on its list of top 100 thrills, and the # 5 mystery in its 10 Top 10 list. The BFI called it the greatest British film of all time (at least through 1999). There are probably other accolades to recommend it; you don't need mine.

Fahrenheit 451: 3/5

2010-09-18T01:59:00.000-04:00

François Truffaut is one of those guys who is more familiar to me because of a side project than for his main thing. But I love Ray Bradbury's classic story, and I had heard that French cinema was interesting, so I thought I'd give it a try. The results? Not as good as I would have liked, but better than I expected.

Three Up

1. Julie Christie was nominated for the BAFTA for best actress that year for her roles as both Linda Montag and Clarisse.* The best way I can do justice to her performance is to point out that I had no idea she played both roles until after the movie was over. In my mind, there is no single higher feat in acting than to portray two characters so independently that nobody can tell. Plus, it makes me wonder what Truffaut was trying to tell us with that.

*Notably, she was nominated twice that year: for her role in Doctor Zhivago and her role in F-451.

2. Maybe it's a French New Wave thing, maybe it's a Truffaut thing, maybe it's an homage-to-Hitchcock thing, but I really dug the longer cuts. Sometimes I like to count off seconds between cuts while watching boring movies. This movie wasn't boring, but I noticed that the cuts were unusually long, so I tried to count. I lost count. And I was awesome at seeking in hide-and-seek, so you know I can count pretty high. But neatness isn't greatness. The long cuts became great because they contributed to the story and broke down walls between the audience and the characters. By keeping us in one place for so long (actually, we were moving around like somebody in the room), Truffaut tried to help us forget about the fourth wall. It felt more like we were actually in the room observing the events first-hand rather than outside the room observing the events through a TV.

3. Finally, I loved the deep irony about a movie that presented as dystopic a future where people only watch TV. Granted, the TV was terrible (with terrible acting and terrible storylines). So maybe Truffaut was trying to suggest that an appreciation for great books (like Bradbury's classic) leads to the making of great movies?

Three Down

1. Although I liked Montag, he never broke through for me. He never became more than a guy on a stage. His passive response to Linda's betrayal left me cold.

2. Although I generally liked the long takes, I don't get the point of the long takes of the fire trucks. I mean, it seems like the fire company was driving way the heck away from the firehouse, but why was that important? Was Truffaut fluffing? What's going on with that? The film is only 112 minutes long . . .

3. I found the "video wall" disappointingly small. This is supposed to be the future, and the illusion is supposed to actually convince us. There's just something not convincing about a little bitty screen. I know they had projection technology back then (as in, you know, movie theaters), so it's not a question of technology and effects. It seems to me that Truffaut made a choice with which I disagree. And I hate him for it. No, actually, I hate him for the long takes with the fire trucks.

Thoughts on Championships

2010-09-12T19:45:00.002-04:00

I grew up rooting for the Rangers, and I’ve only recently developed an affection for the Orioles (definitely post-1983), so I’ve never known what it’s like to win a World Series. But I also grew up rooting for the Dallas Cowboys (I played my first games of street football in the early 1990s), so I know what it’s like to win a Super Bowl.

Stephen King writes:

[W]inning the Super Bowl isn’t the same as winning the World Series. Not even in the same universe as winning the World Series.

King wrote that in May of 2004. The Red Sox were still five months away from winning their first World Series in a while, but the Patriots had just won their second Super Bowl in three years and were about to win their third in four. He didn’t know what it was like to win the World Series, but he knew what it was like to win the Super Bowl.

So what do you think: jealousy? Wanting what he can’t or hadn’t had?

What do you think, part B: Which tastes sweeter to kiss, the Lombardi Trophyor the Commissioner’s Trophy? Maybe the Larry O’Brien Trophy?

This is Birdland

2010-09-01T07:41:00.000-04:00

The Beach Boys once sang about loyalty:

When some loud braggart tries to put me down
And say his school is great
I tell him right away
Now what's the matter buddy
Ain't you heard of my school?
It's number one in the state

I was one of 18,247 people who saw the Orioles beat the Red Sox fair and square on Tuesday night. A brief visual survey suggested that perhaps 12,000 were Red Sox fans, 6,000 were Orioles fans, and at least one guy was a Twins fan.

Brian Matusz started the top of the 7th by walking J.D. Drew. The Buckwalter Show visited the mound, and Jim Johnson jogged out to keep the Orioles' 3-2 lead safe. A Jed Lowrie single and a Bill Hill sacrifice put runners on 2d and 3d for Daniel Nava (pinch hitting for Darnell McDonald). After two pitches, Johnson was ahead in the count, 0-2. Two of the next three pitches were balls (and one foul), so after five pitches, the count stood at 2-2. With the go-ahead run in scoring position, we started to hear this mysterious chant:

Let's go, Red Sox
[clap, clap, clap clap clap]
Let's go, Red Sox

The chant began in one guy's lungs but was quickly taken up by the crowd, and the strength and volume of the chant made me fidget in my seat. The guy behind me started yelling things like, "Let's go [Nava]!!"* And most of the crowd agreed. If you've ever attended an Orioles-Red Sox game at ~~Fenway Park~~ Camden Yards, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You start looking around for the Green Monster.

*He actually yelled, "Let's go, J.D.!!" about eighteen times before somebody corrected him about who was batting. I kinda thought I was at a Lakers game in the Staples Center for a second. (Since that guy was probably a Celtics fan, did I just compare a Celtics fan to a Lakers fan? I think I did.)

So I did what any self-respecting Orioles fan should do in that situation. I stood up, I clapped, I whooped, I yelled encouragements to Jim Johnson. I made people behind me start calling out "Down in front!"

Wait a minute. You want to come into my house, wear your nasty dark blue and red (and green), chant your chants, and sing your songs? Fine. But now you want me to take it sitting down?

Don't tread on me.

I turned around:

Me: "Hey---you're in Baltimore. You wanna support your team, you can stand up, too."
Red Sox fan: "Well, do you wanna be a jerk about it?"

I guess that depends. Do you want to be a jerk about coming into my house, wearing your nasty colors, and chanting your stupid chants? Then, yeah, I want to be a jerk about coming into my own house, wearing my own colors, and chanting my own stupid chants. Yes, I will be a jerk. It's called "loyalty." I think you're familiar with it. It's the kind of thing that makes you drive 400 miles to see your home team.

So, Orioles fans, listen. I know the glory days are all in the past. I know that you may not be the biggest fan of the current ownership. I know that you hate paying money to see your team lose. But you should hate even more that Red Sox fans feel welcome to come into our house, wear their colors, and chant their chants. You should hate even more that they chant and cheer and jeer louder than we do. You should hate even more that they're starting to think of this as their house, their home away from home, where they can give you dirty looks and tell you to sit down because you're making too much noise for the other team.

You should hate even more that "Let's go O's" gets smothered by "Let's go Red Sox" every f'n time.

So, Orioles fans, there are 15 home games left, including two against the Red Sox and three against the Yankees. Show up in droves. Wear our colors. Chant our chants. Give Camden Yards its name back.

This, mis amigos, is Birdland.

V for Vendetta: 4/5

2010-08-26T07:48:00.000-04:00

There be spoilers here.

The fifth year of the new millennium was a good year for movies: three great comedies (40-Year-Old Virgin, Wedding Crashers, Fun with Dick and Jane); a great epic (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire); a great coming-of-age tale (Elizabethtown); one of my favorite movies (Match Point); and what may be the best adaptation of a comic book I've seen: V for Vendetta.

James McTeigue stepped up from the associate director's chair to direct this relatively concise telling of a sprawling tale about the last man on earth (V, played masterfully by Hugo Weaving) finding a suitable helpmate (Evey, played charmingly by Natalie Portman) with whom he can resuscitate civilization from the cultural death throes of 1984-style dystopia. The Wachowskis wrote and produced it, so you might think it would be Matrix redux, but it's not. It's better.

Three Up

1. First off, this is one of the best pragmatic adaptations I've ever seen. The Wachowskis take a long and complex story, written over the course of a decade, featuring dozens of characters---many based on contemporary (then-relevant, now-unfamiliar) personalities---and squeeze it into 127 minutes. How do they do it? They know what to keep and what to chuck, and what to shift into something that works better on film. Maybe the best example: V's alliterative introduction. It's not in the novel, but it uses one of film's defining differences from sequential art (i.e., sound) to introduce us to V's passion for the art of the moment.

2. If I had really thought about who ought to play V, I would have a hard time coming up with someone better than Hugo Weaving. You need someone with the flare of Johnny Depp, the menace of Al Pacino, and the ability to play from behind a mask. Hugo Weaving---whom you may recall as Agent Smith---uses body language and subtle intonation to turn a lifeless mask into something expressive and sympathetic. Put more simply, Weaving played V like I imagined.

3. Like 1984, V for Vendetta has aged remarkably well. Contemporary critics complained about the use of black hoods and words like "rendition"---they thought it smacked too loudly of political commentary and would age more quickly than organic bread. Watching the movie from half-a-decade out, however, those references slipped right past me. I didn't think, "Wow, this movie is about Bush!" I thought, "Wow, this movie is about how art keeps us free and censorship kills us." It worked for 1984, and it (so far) works for V for Vendetta.

Three Down

1. I must admit, first, that I missed some of the ambiguity surrounding the character V. In the novel, you didn't even know V's gender. By the end of the twelfth issue, you thought s/he might be some random concentration camp survivor, or maybe Valerie (who wrote the letter on the toilet paper), or maybe even Evey's dad/mom/brother. I think Moore and Lloyd intentionally kept it ambiguous, and I dig it. Obviously, with a movie, you can't do that. We can hear V talk, so we know instinctively his or her gender. That eliminates half the ambiguity right there, and I missed it. (Even so, I have to admit that the Wachowskis did an excellent job making up for it. See 1- and 2-up.)

2. One problem I have with a lot of movies is that, when the story's over, it's over. The war has been won and the future is secure. The Wachowskis slipped into the same rut. You remember: the masses converge in a (deliciously ironic) display of mass individualism and tear off their masks to reclaim their individual individualism, Big Brother dies, along with his Dragon, and a new day dawns on Mother England. But what if . . . V dies and Evey takes on his mantle, carrying forth the battle for freedom, beauty, truth, and love; Big Brother A is dead, but Big Brother B steps up to fight the fight for safety through conformity like nothing happened, and the war rages on? I find that ending more interesting. (Even so, I love the irony of the mass individualism.)

3. I'm having trouble coming up with a third down. The Missus didn't care for it (she fell asleep, an unmistakable sign of distaste), so that means I likely won't get to watch it again for some time. But if your complaint is that you can't watch it again as soon as you want, maybe that's really an up.

Black cat

2010-08-23T19:51:00.000-04:00

I recently downloaded a doodling app for my iPod Touch and drew my cat.

Synecdoche, New York: 5/5

2010-08-22T22:12:00.000-04:00

***SPOILER ALERT***

The first time I watched Charlie Kaufman's Synecdoche, New York, I just watched it. I tried to follow the events and purposely let the metaphors and symbols slip right past my eyes and into my subconscious. When the ending came, I was floored. I didn't know why, but I was floored.

The second time I watched Charlie Kaufman's Synecdoche, New York, I knew what I was looking for. Subtle hints of time passing (something like 6 months in the first 10 minutes), covert suggestions about who was who (Sammy shows up a lot sooner than you think), dialog that makes clear we are living in Caden's memory (or are we?). Still, I got sucked into the story and the characters and their relationships. The metaphors and symbols slipped right past my eyes and into my subconscious. When the ending came, I was floored. I knew a little better why, but I was still floored.

What is SNY about? I really don't know. I know that we follow Caden's life from the moment it really begins for him until the day he dies. But what is his life about? Why are we following this particular character? Maybe this is just a giant exercise in Rashomon-like memory play. Maybe this is a direct assault on the tendency of modern American movies to have their plots play out over two or three days. Maybe Kaufman is trying to show us that the real poetry in life stretches out over decades.

Maybe that's why I was floored both times I watched SNY. Here is a movie that takes on the grand scheme of things and wrings out the poetic poignancy of life. A director who can put on a brilliant play in the theater but can't put on a decent show at home. The same director thinks that every ailment is life-threatening but survives every one---for thirty or forty years, no less. He doesn't die from some sickness or his inability to salivate or whatever holocaust is wreaking havoc on the outside world; he dies because he acquiesced to someone else's control.

Maybe, in the end, that's the key to unlocking SNY.

The Fly: 3/5

2010-08-18T19:46:00.000-04:00

***SPOILERS ALERT***

David Cronenberg directed the 1986 sci-fi horror The Fly, starring Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis. It's a re-make of the 1958 Vincent Price thriller, but my understanding is that it only keeps the rudiments of the 1958 plot. Basic story: Seth Brundle (JG) is a scientist trying to solve the problems of motion sickness once and for all by mastering teleportation. He invites a reporter, Veronica Quaife* (GD) back to his warehouse apartment for a demonstration. They fall in love. One night, she leaves to break things off with her ex-boyfriend, and Brundle gets all nervous and insecure. He drinks a bit too much and tries to teleport himself. He succeeds, but (because he was drinking?) a fly came along for the ride, and the result is Brundlefly. The story then revolves around everybody coming to terms with Brundlefly.

*Weirdest last name I've heard in quite some time.

Three Up

1. Jeff Goldblum's acting is brilliant. It's not so difficult to portray a static character; it's not much more difficult to portray a character who experiences some instantaneous cathartic change; it is very difficult to portray a character who changes incrementally. Jeff Goldblum pulls it off.

2. Subtlety. In a movie known for being disgusting, maybe you don't think it's very subtle. But you're wrong. Take, for example, when Seth Brundle asks Veronica Quaife for something personal to prove that his teleporter pods can work. She demurely reaches up her skirt, unsnaps her stocking, and pulls it down. Cronenberg could have gone all fan-service on us, showing Geena Davis pull her skirt up to her waist, showing the audience her undies, and having her slowly, slowly pull the stocking off. Instead, it's a subtle hint that this girl is more interesting than we at first thought. Throughout the film, Cronenberg hits some things hard and other things very, very softly.

3. There might be more to this than we thought. Watching the film, I kept thinking that the whole thing was symbolic for something. Technology gone too far? Maybe. Man's desperate search for glory and immortality? Perhaps. The disastrous effects of trying to re-enter the womb? Feels a little cozy. As much as I did not enjoy physically watching the last half-hour, I can't stop thinking about what Cronenberg was trying to tell us.

Three Down

1. This movie was stomach-churningly disgusting. I normally have a strong stomach, but, especially during the last half-hour, I had to look away. But kudos to Cronenberg for his unwavering commitment to showing the disgusting effects of seeking immortality (or trying to re-enter the womb).

2. Veronica's pregnancy. A 96-minute movie shouldn't need tacked-on unnecessary conflict. Cronenberg could have done great things with that pregnancy (the grub nightmare is disturbingly great), but it felt less like "OMG?!" and more like "o. m. g." I see why (theoretically) it's the catalyst that propels us through the final act, but it felt over the top to me. Especially since it goes unresolved. Too much, too late.

3. Stathis Borans's descent into madness. Weird coincidence or valuable insight into Cronenberg's mind: both men who fall in love with Veronica Quaife slowly go mad and suffer irreversible physical deformations. If somebody can explain to me why this is neither simple misogynism nor junior high fear of commitment, this might be one of the more fascinatingly subtle parts of the movie.

Verdict: I recommend it, if only because it's a classic of science-fiction cinema.

The Watchmen: 3/5

2010-08-06T18:46:00.000-04:00

***SPOILER ALERT***

The Watchmen, is Zack Snyder's (at least) third try to take a property with a cult fan base and make it into a movie. You've read all the reviews about how he was damned because he did and damned because he didn't. I won't bore you with that. Instead: three up, three down.

Three Up

1. Jackie Earle Haley as Rorschach. Rorschach was my favorite character in the graphic novel, and he is most definitely my favorite character in the movie. He is so true to his morals---even if he is a bit absolutist. He is a black-and-white person lost in a world of greys; I love that his name is Rorschach. And Jackie Earle Haley plays him almost exactly as I imagined him. Finally: "You don't get it. I'm not locked in here with you. You're locked in here with me."

2. Jeffrey Dean Morgan as The Comedian. All I can really say is that, in the book, I found The Comedian a bothersome character. I didn't understand why anybody cared about why he was murdered. Jeffrey Dean Morgan made me care why he was murdered. (Though I still don't really get the plot.)

3. The Opening Credits. A great use of Bob Dylan. A lot of people thought this was the best part of the movie. I don't know that I'd go that far, but it's the first opening credits I've paid attention to in a long time. (Now closing credits . . . )

Three Down

1. Rorschach's Death. I know Snyder was true to Moore's conception, but I didn't like Rorschach's death in the novel either. My two cents: Dr. Manhattan should have let him walk off into the Antarctic wilderness. There's no way all-too-human Rorschach is making it anywhere in his trench coat and purple pin stripe pants, but he'll go down fighting.

2. Running time. At two hours and forty-five minutes (give or take) this movie is w a y t o o l o n g. Snyder should have broken it in two (or twelve?). He is damned because he did . . . too much.

3. The Ending. I felt no catharsis. The only guy I had been rooting for (Rorschach) gets obliterated like the human water balloon that he is, and then it's over. All I felt like was that I had spent two hours and forty-five minutes (give or take) watching this w a y t o o l o n g movie drag its feet and shuffle and then my man Rorschach dies. That's a big eff you.

Fo. Sho.

2010-07-21T19:12:00.002-04:00

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Out out brief Replicant

2010-07-17T13:20:00.002-04:00

From Blade Runner:

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I've watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.

From Macbeth:

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Can there be anything more tragically beautiful than Shakespearean nihilism? Charlie Kaufman tries his hand at Shakespearean nihilism in Synecdoche, New York. Go check it out.

Blade Runner: 2/5

2010-07-15T18:17:00.000-04:00

My beef with Ridley Scott's Blade Runner:

1. The Characters. I did not connect to any single character. Not Deckard, not Roy Batty, not Tyrell, not even Rachael. Nor did I care for Roy Batty's arc. "Look! Even our genetically engineered pets aren't as horrible and destructive as we are!" That kind of theme ranks right up there with "You know, communism works on paper" in terms of originality and freshness. I don't even want to engage that line of thought. To me, the characters are the most important part of the story, and they fail to do anything for me here.

2. The Music. The music in Blade Runner hasn't aged very well, imho. The synthesizers instantly tell me the movie is stuck permanently in the 1980s. I don't hold that against Scott (how could he have known how quickly synthesizers would go out of vogue?), but it really interfered with my suspension of disbelief. Are you trying to tell me that in 2019, we have gone full circle and are back into synth pop? Maybe we will be, but watching the movie in 2010, I couldn't help but realize I was watching a movie made in 1982.

3. The Visuals. I don't care for cyberpunk. I know a lot of people love it, but it just isn't my cup of tea. I can't say much more about that.

My tea with Ridley Scott's Blade Runner:

1. It's right in the sweet spot at 117 minutes long.

2. I appreciate the contemplation on morality throughout.

Less Is More

2010-07-13T22:44:00.000-04:00

So today I'm reading about movies, as I tend to do a lot these days, and I stumble across this:

[Orson] Welles would have loved [The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford], were it not for it being over his two hour maximum comfort zone[.]

It seems Mr. Welles and I have something in common (other than mastering deep focus cinematography and the low-angle shot). As I (too) frequently tell The Missus, there is a spectrum to movie running times:

Less than 90 minutes: something terrible happened to cut the movie short (e.g., the creators didn't realize the idea wouldn't pan out until way too late in the process). They feel like TV episodes run too long. Classic example: The Ex (89 minutes). When I see a less-than-90 running time, I expect holes and dissatisfaction.
90 to 120 minutes: the sweet spot, especially in the 100-110 zone. These movies are long enough to develop storylines and characters but still short enough to watch repeatedly. Classic example: The Graduate (105 minutes). When I see a 90-to-120 running time, I get excited about watching a director who understands less is more.
120 to 150 minutes: you're pushing it. Every minute past 120 better be important. The creators are on the verge of author appeal. But, if done right, those extra minutes don't feel extra. Classic example: The Empire Strikes Back (124 minutes). When I see a 120-to-150 running time, I check the director. If it's Quentin Tarantino, OK. Anybody else, I am pre-planning a bathroom break.
150 minutes to infinity: 9 times out of 10, the director has gone too far. The movie ceased being about communicating with the audience and started being about the director "expressing himself or herself"---only the audience doesn't know it. By the time the movie ends, almost any kind of tacked on ending will seem amazing because the audience has put so much effort and time into watching it. But when you sit back later and talk it out, the truth comes out. (See, e.g., Stephen King's It.) Classic example: Avatar. When I see a 150-plus running time, I put it back on the shelf until I have an entire afternoon free.

Listen, directors, if it's too long for Orson Welles, it's too long for me. Do like the Coen Brothers (average running time of 107.2 minutes, ranging from 94 (Raising Arizona) to 122 (No Country for Old Men---their only 2-hour-plus-er)), and not like James Cameron (average running time of 140.1 minutes, ranging from 94 (Piranha II---the only one less than a hundred and one of only two less than two hours) to 194 (Titanic)). A friend of mine likes The Godfather. I like The Godfather, too, but I refuse to watch it again. I don't have that much free time.

Who really wants to sit still for 2 hours and 55 minutes?

Mirrors freak me out

2010-07-13T07:53:00.000-04:00

Since it's mid-July and time to start ramping up the scary movies, I spent an hour and a half this weekend watching Oren Peli's Paranormal Activity. And---I can't lie---I spent another hour and a half tossing in bed trying to escape my nightmare. The movie slithered into my subconscious, exploited a random nightmare I had in fourth grade, and held me in its grip for about half a day (until I fell back asleep and had a nightmare that I got way too deep into the drug industry).

I prefer my scary movies to slip just a little bit inside my head. I'm not really scared of people, so movies that use people as the main scare (e.g., Saw, The Silence of the Lambs, Hostel) may be entertaining, but they don't scare me. I prefer my scares with a hint of the supernatural.

My favorite scary movie ever is The Exorcist. It's creepy at parts, frightening at others, and satisfying in the end. I also like The Shining, but I don't find it very scary. But for the scariest movie ever? For the movie that stuck with me for days and weeks afterward, not letting me sleep? For the movie that found a fissure in the dam of my subconscious and turned that moon into a space station?

The Ring. The American version. Yep. I'm lame. In my defense, you have to admit that the washed out colors, the girl whose face hides behind a curtain of straight black hair, and---most importantly to me---the shot where the woman looks into the mirror and there's no effin camera. Oh and the end? When she takes the fly off the TV screen? F r e a k y. If Paranormal Activity scared me for 12 hours, The Ring scared me for 12 weeks. Like I said: fissure in the dam of my subconscious.

Candy

2010-07-08T20:04:00.000-04:00

The health food aisle at Target.

In Defense of The Seven Year Itch

2010-06-28T07:11:00.000-04:00

Three questions.

1. Is The Seven Year Itch an exercise in wish-fulfillment fantasy or a character study of the ~~six-months~~ seven-years-later phenomenon? It seems to me that the driving question is not whether Richard will get together with The Girl but whether Richard will remain true to Helen. As evidence, I point to his jealousy when he finds out Helen went on a hayride with Tom MacKenzie. I further point to the fact that all his fitful wandering begins from the point when he imagines Helen laughing off his claims that he appeals to other women. This isn't a story about boy-meets-girl, this is a story about boy-figuring-out-how-to-stay-true-when-the-excitement-of-boy-meets-girl-has-worn-off.

And don't compare it to the play. The film and the play are two separate pieces of art. Take each for what it's worth.

2. Is Richard Sherman a wandering husband or a lost child finding his way into adulthood? Given his powerful imagination and his ineptness at wooing The Girl, I tend toward the latter.

3. Is The Girl an innocent, dumb blonde or a conniving seductress? I point to the major plot point of her kissing him on the lips and telling him not to wipe away the lipstick: "If she thinks that's cranberry sauce, tell her she's got cherry pits in her head." What she doesn't say, but we hear nonetheless, is, "And if she thinks you've been kissing other girls and asks for a divorce, I'll be upstairs all summer."

Watch the film again, ask yourself these three questions, and let me know what you conclude.

The Seven Year Itch: 4/5

2010-06-26T01:25:00.000-04:00

So I have this pet peeve about people using well-known phrases ignorantly. Here is just another example:

Long live Marilyn Monroe!

I'm just sayin.

Invictus: 4/5

2010-06-19T01:10:00.000-04:00

***SPOILER ALERT***

Tonight, the Missus and I watched Clint Eastwood's Invictus. Reading the reviews cited on Metacritic, I noticed two major themes: (1) the characters are flat and boring, so it fails as a character drama, and (2) the sport is confusing and the game scenes too drawn out, so it fails as a sports movie. But Invictus is a bit too slippery to fall neatly into either of those cubbyholes.

First, the important characters are not flat. People think that since Morgan Freeman was (finally) cast as Nelson Mandela that he must be the main character. Or maybe it's Matt Damon---he's a big name. People are wrong on both points. The main character in the story is the people of South Africa. The motivating question isn't whether Mandela and Pienaar will accomplish their goal, but whether the South African people can figure out how to get along. Just think about how much time we spend watching nameless characters develop trust in each other. Think about the security guards who start off hating each other and end up playing rugby together. Or think about the poor kid who starts off refusing a free Springbok t-shirt and ends up listening to the game on the radio with two white men he doesn't know. South Africa wanted to figure out how to live as a nation, and the 1995 Rugby World Cup gave them a glimpse of national unity.

Second, Invictus heavily features a sport, but the game is used to show it's impact on the characters. If I wanted to watch a rugby match, I could have found one on TV. Instead, I wanted to watch a series of characters go through an ordeal and come out on the other side. This movie did exactly that. The most important aspect of the game is its impact on the important characters (i.e., South Africa). That's why Eastwood doesn't tell us how rugby works; that's why he only cuts to the game clock once; and that's why the winning points are scored with "minutes" to go in extra time. The movie isn't about the game or its players; it's about the spectators.

I think the best compliment you can give a director on seeing a movie is to say that it makes you want to watch more of his or her stuff. This is the third Clint Eastwood-directed film I've seen (fourth, if you count Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, which I don't, because I was high on Novocaine after having my wisdom teeth removed). Changeling didn't do it for me, but Gran Torino is one of those movies I keep thinking about. I think Invictus will be more like Gran Torino than Changeling. And I also think I'm going to watch some more of his stuff.

Starting with Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

The Matrix: 4/5

2010-05-30T18:38:00.000-04:00

"There is no spoon." Keanu Reeves really should have said that about a dozen times in The Matrix. How great would it have been if, after Agent Smith empties a clip in Neo, Neo opens his eyes, looks Agent Smith in the eye, and quoth, "There is no spoon." Crowning moment of awesome!!

I first saw The Matrix almost ten years ago. I had been told how it was awesome, mind-bending, spectacular, and all the other meaningless adjectives we use. "Dude. It is sooooo crazy. It. Will. Change. Your. Life." Unfortunately for my expectations, I had just finished reading a bit of Descartes for school; the idea that we might be living in The Matrix was something I had just gotten through processing. (I applaud the Wachowskis for introducing a generation of young men to the philosophical dilemma of reality without making it a boring exercise in linguistics.) When I watched it today, I wasn't looking for mind-bending awesomeness; I was actually watching to hone up for potentially forthcoming philosophical debates.*

*Wittgenstein cured me of the desire to understand and explore ontology one fine Saturday afternoon, but I seem to be the only dab of paint who has given up on trying to see the painting. Still, everyone else seems to care about it, seems not to be conversant in Cartesian philosophy, and seems to be conversant in the philosophy of The Matrix. When in Rome and all that.

And in the process of philosophical edification, I got caught up in the story. How will Neo figure out whether he is The One? And what will that mean? How will Neo save Morpheus? How will Agent Smith be thwarted? By what miracle will the bad guys get what's coming? That, my friends, is good storytelling.

And this time, it gave me pause, asking a more interesting philosophical question than that of ontology: What is my place in the Universe? Am I Thomas Anderson---someone special for whom the rules don't really apply---or am I the homeless guy at the subway station---just another (expendable) brick in the wall? To go one step further: Who decides?

How exciting!

2010-05-30T00:00:00.000-04:00

The Lakers and Celtics are in the NBA Finals for the ~~first~~ twelfth time ever! I was a little surprised that they've only met in the Finals twelve times. Between them, they have 32 championships (out of 64 total), and I was under the impression they had met every year in the 1960s and 1980s. I guess I was wrong.

Side note to American sports: this is a bad year for the home team. The Yankees are reigning champions of MLB, Duke reigns in college basketball, and now the Lakers or Celtics will reign in the NBA. Is it any wonder the NFL is America's most popular league?

I wash my hands of this.

NBA Playoffs: Part Trois

2010-05-18T22:58:00.000-04:00

By the way, these playoffs are lame. I'm no longer really interested in who wins or loses. Brief picks:

Celtics beat Magic in 5. Lakers beat Suns in 4. Celtics beat Lakers in 6.

Because sometimes the NBA sucks.

NBA Playoffs: Part Deux

2010-05-02T22:52:00.000-04:00

The first round is over, and the second round is just beginning. How'd I do? Let's see:

Right-o

EC-1 Cleveland Cavaliers beat EC-8 Chicago Bulls in 5 - This was actually a lot closer than I think anybody expected. I think we all expected a sweep.
EC-2 Orlando Magic beat EC-7 Charlotte Bobcats in 4 - This was actually a lot less close than I think we all expected. The Magic pulled out the only sweep in the First Round.
WC-7 San Antonio Spurs beat WC-2 Dallas Mavericks in 6 - This was one "upset" I think about 2/3 of people predicted. Good games with good results.
WC-5 Utah Jazz beat WC-4 Denver Nuggets in 6 - Hate to say I told you sooooooo---aight.

Wrong-o

WC-1 Floss Angeles Lakers beat WC-8 Oklahoma City Thunder in 6 - Who can stop the purple machine??
EC-3 Atlanta Hawks beat EC-6 Milwaukee Bucks in 7 - Just add another log to the fire of Milwaukee's hatred of Atlanta. This series was a lot closer than I expected.
WC-3 Phoenix Suns beat WC-6 Portland Trail Blazers in 6 - I love watching the Suns lose. This was a disappointing series for me.
EC-4 Boston Celtics beat EC-5 Miami Heat in 5 - Who saw this coming? Not me. I'm not saying the Celtics are back; I'm saying the Heat never showed up (except in Game 4).

So by my count, I am sitting even at 4-4. Biggest surprises: Celtics beating the Heat and Bucks taking Atlanta to Game 7.

Modified Predictions

WC-1 Haymakers v. WC-5 Jazz - Rematch from last year's First Round. I like how the Jazz have been paying, and I hate the Rakers, so you know my vote. Jazz in 6.
EC-1 Cavs v. EC-4 Celtics - These Celtics are old. Both teams won their first round in 5 games, but the Cavaliers seemed less hesitant. I pick the Cavs in 5.
WC-3 Suns v. WC-7 Spurs - I'm hoping for a replay of 2008's first round, complete with a Tim Duncan three and everything. But the Suns have given us some heck this year, winning the season series 2-1. I still pick the Spurs in 6.
EC-2 Magic v. EC-3 Hawks - This is a good old-fashioned regional rivalry (or should be). Maybe this round will make it one. I doubt it, though. The Magic were the only team to sweep in the first round, and the Hawks were the only team to go 7 games. The Magic also won 3 of the 4 regular season matchups. So . . . Magic in 5.

Random Notes

First, the lowest ranked team at this stage is the Spurs at # 7. It's not so much that their beating the Mavs was an upset as it is that the Western Conference is just a very even playing field right now.

Second, speaking of even playing fields, the Western Conference First Round featured two "upsets" (the Jazz were the other), while the Eastern Conference First Round went straight by seeding. It seems there are two powers in the East, and it's not the two from the early 1960s.

Third, all four of this year's pairings are (or should be) storied rivalries.

Lakers-Jazz: these two teams are geographically close enough and culturally opposite enough that they should be (and probably are) a great rivalry. Two historically strong West Coast teams like this? I like it.
Cavs-Celtics: I don't know anything about this, but apparently the Cavs and Celtics have hated each other since the 1960s. If they haven't, oh well.
Spurs-Suns: I'm not an authority, but I know that there are three teams I love to watch lose more than any other: the Lakers, the Mavericks, and the Suns. To me, that spells good rivalry.
Magic-Hawks: These two teams are close geographically, share a division, and while the Magic have dominated for a couple of years, the Hawks are historically the strongest team in this division.

So these could be a few good series. I'll update in a week or so.

Match Point: 4/5

2010-04-25T12:33:00.000-04:00

***SPOILER ALERT***

The basic plot of Woody Allen's Match Point can be summarized thusly:

Chris Wilton wants to have it all: a comfortable life and passionate love.
So Chris marries into a super-rich London family and cuckolds his brother-in-law.
But you can't always get what everything you want, and Chris picks the comfortable life.

It's not a particularly original story, but no story really is. Many critics and viewers love or hate this movie based on the plot and its twists and tricks. The plot is interesting, and the idea is interesting (even if not original), but the originality, and the quality, of Match Point lies in its execution.

Poetry is more than rhyming words. Poetry uses the rhythms of speech to express a meaning deeper and more profound than the denotations and connotations of the words themselves. Similarly, a film is more than moving pictures with a sound track. A film uses the power of images, the power of sound, and the combined power of both to tell us something more profound than the plotpoints.

Let me give you an example. For about the first 2/3 of Match Point, Nola wears spikey heels and sexy outfits while Chloe wears ballet flats and "cute" outfits. The last time we see Nola, however, she is wearing low, almost kitten-style, heels and a knee-length, flared skirt. The point: Nola has lost the sexual sway she held over Chris.*

*I'm not trying to say that kitten heels and a knee-length skirt can't be sexy (though I despise kitten heels). I'm just trying to say that they connote much less sexually than do spikey heels and a tight or short skirt.

Similarly, in almost every scene with the whole family, Chris is apart somehow. In one scene, he literally stands in a different room. In another, he merely stands a few feet apart from a close quasi-group hug. And in one of my favorites, he is physically in the group, but, while everybody else is wearing white, he is wearing black. He is there, but he is not; he is a part of the family, but we know it is only because he makes Chloe happy.

Which may explain one of the most important idea in the movie. In one scene, Chris is about to tell Chloe about his relationship with Nola. He gets as far as admitting that he feels guilty, but can't go any further, can't give any details. She accuses him of infidelity, but he denies it. He turns the conversation to their travails getting pregnant. Fast forward to the haunting penultimate scene: Chris tells the ghost of Nola, "I didn't know if I could do it. It was hard. But when the moment came, I could pull the trigger." Put the two scenes together, and you have a striking juxtaposition: We had been led to believe Chris loved Nola more than Chloe, but he could only "pull the trigger" with Nola. It was easier for him to kill Nola than to break Chloe's heart.

Which makes it a difficult question: Does he love Chloe too much to hurt her feelings, or does he love his comfortable life so much that he would kill to keep it?

Story within a story

2010-04-21T06:57:00.000-04:00

Paul Mariani's sentence from The Broken Tower: A Life of Hart Crane does a great job telling the story with its structure:

In the poem -- one he had the good sense finally to abandon -- he pictured himself as a blind moth raised among butterflies, which for a brief moment had found itself rising upward into the empyrean to behold "Great horizons and systems and shores all along," only to find its wings crumpling and itself falling -- like Icarus -- back to earth.

The natural way we read a sentence, our (inner) voice goes up and up all the way to the comma after "along," then our voice starts falling. Try reading it again but imagining that the comma after "along" is a period. You will find a very interesting effect.

2010-04-15T20:47:00.000-04:00

It's that time again! The time for me to wow you with my fantastically accurate sports playoffs picks.* What playoff picks? The NBA Playoff Picks!! Woo!! We got next!!

*I think I scored a cool 12/64 in March Madness.

How do I make my picks? I have a very strict process. First, I look at their overall records. Then, I go with my gut.

Alright. Let's get started.

First Round

EC-1 Cleveland Cavaliers v. EC-8 Chicago Bulls

The Cavs are the NBA's winningest team this year, racking up 61 wins. (That's 5 fewer than last year, but still second-best in team history.) The Bulls fought tooth and nail to pull 41 wins and make sure everybody still playing is at least .500.* So the Cavs have got a 20-game advantage.

*For the sake of my own interest, I find it interesting that if the playoff teams were chosen from the whole Association and not just the conferences, Houston would be in and Chicago out.

What does my gut tell me? The Bulls hang tough, but the Cavs will eliminate them. I think it might take 6 or 7 games.

WC-1 Los Angeles Clippers v. WC-8 Oklahoma City Thunder

We all know that the Thunder are on a roll* and the Lakers are on a stroll. Was that just because the Thunder were trying to make the playoffs and the Makers were bored? I don't know. I just know the Nakers finished up with a best-in-the-West 57 wins and the Thunder crossed the finish line with a meager 50 wins, good only for 4th in the Northwest.

*C'mon . . . gimme credit gimme credit. That's a good one.

So I style this series: Kobe v. Kevin. And I pick Kevin. Because I hate the Bakers. I call a sweep.

EC-2 Orlando Magic v. EC-7 Charlotte Bobcats

The Magic only got 59 wins . . . because they lost to Los Spurs. The Bobcats set a franchise record with 44 wins. Defense wins championships, so why do we have two of the three best defenses going at it in the first round? Because life sucks. And as much as I want the Michaelcats to beat the Magic, I'm eventually going to predict a black-on-black championship, so I have to pick the NBA's 4th best offense over its 24th best.

WC-2 Dallas Mavericks v. WC-7 San Antonio Spurs

I read recently that the Mavericks are one of only two teams to beat the Spurs in the postseason in like 106 years.* So there's that. And there's the Mavericks' 55 times being ahead at the buzzer compared to the Spurs' 50 dominating and merciless vanquishings. More importantly, there's last night.

*The other is the Pittsburgh Condors.

Seriously, objectively. The Spurs had more Pythagorean wins (55.2 to 48.7) and win the SRS matchup, 5.07 to 2.67. The Spurs have the NBA's 9th best offense, just ahead of the Mavericks' 10th best offense (110.0 to 109.2, if you're counting). The Spurs have the 2d-best defense in the West (3/4 of a point behind the Flakers), and the Mavericks are 12th (overall, 5th in the West), nearly two whole points behind (104.5 to 106.3). But the Mavericks were 4th-best in attendance, compared to the Spurs' 10th (819,770 to 741,676). So there's that.

Anything can happen in 7 games, but I'm picking Los Spurs because it's my blog.

EC-3 Atlanta Hawks v. EC-6 Milwaukee Bucks

The City of Milwaukee has every reason to hate the City of Atlanta. So the 53-29 Hawks better keep their eyes peeled* when the 46-36 Bucks gallop into town. I have a feeling Brandon Jennings is better than whatever the Hawks have got. Last year, the Hawks were my team in the East, but this year, I'm pulling for the Bucks.

*Pealed? Pilled?

WC-3 Phoenix Suns v. WC-6 Portland Trail Blazers

So the Suns think they're all that, setting* on a 54-28 season during which the Trail Blazers only found their way to an even steven 50. Still, the Blazers have got heart, even if the Suns have got sol**, and I hate the Suns almost as much as I hate the Mavericks and the Cakers. I love watching the Suns lose.

*You know you like that one.

**I am freakin' awesome!!

EC-4 Boston Celtics v. EC-5 Miami Heat

The Celtics have limped into the playoffs. ~~Dwayne Wade~~ The Heat have limped into the playoffs. I mean, really, what's the difference between 50-32* and 47-35? I dislike Vince Carter and Stan Van Gundy, so I'm picking the Heat.

*First, does anybody else remember Rasheed saying they'd win 70 this year? And second, did anybody else notice that the Celtics had the worst record among division winners? The Jazz were next, at 53-29.

WC-4 Denver Nuggets v. WC-5 Utah Jazz

I gotta say, I like the Jazz this year. Continentaling in with 53 wins to slip past the Blazers and tie the Nuggets. I'm feeling the music this year. I'm not feeling the rocks.

Conference Semifinals

I hope that wasn't too confusing about who won each round. Maybe this will help: snapshot predictions for the rest of the playoffs.

EC-1 Cleveland Cavaliers v. EC-5 Miami Heat. Remember last year, when the Cavs beat the Hawks beat the Heat? I fear it'll happen again. Cavs in 5.

WC-8 Oklahoma City Thunder v. WC-5 Utah Jazz. Tough call. These teams are both doing really well and really aren't that far apart in the standings. But I think I like Malone & Stockton more than Kemp & Schrempf. Jazz in 7.

EC-2 Orlando Magic v. EC-6 Milwaukee Bucks. Brandon Jennings is good, but he's not that good. I hate Vince Carter, but he might pull this one off. Magic in 5.

WC-7 San Antonio Spurs v. WC-6 Portland Trail Blazers. Do you really have to ask? Pythagorean wins: Spurs, 55.2 to 50.6. SRS: Spurs, 5.07 to 3.18. Offensive rating: Trail Blazers, 110.8 to 110.0. Defensive rating: Spurs, 104.5 to 107.1. Season series: Trail Blazers, 3-0. It looks like matchups might be a problem, but you already know whom I favor.

Conference Finals

EC-1 Cleveland Cavaliers v. EC-2 Orlando Magic. Ho hum. Rematch of last year, when the Magic pulled 4 wins out of a 6-game hat. This year, they split the season series, the Magic have 2.2 more Pythagorean wins, almost a full point higher SRS, and play 0.2 points better on offense and nearly a point better on defense. It kinda sounds like Dwight will put the hurt on Shaq. And maybe quicker than last year's 6 games.

WC-5 Utah Jazz v. WC-7 San Antonio Spurs. Let's be objective. Pythagorean wins: Jazz by 0.3. SRS: Jazz by 0.26. Offense: Jazz by 0.7. Defense: Spurs by 0.5. And the Jazz swept the season series.*

*Very interesting thought I just had: the Jazz may be the objectively best team in the West.

But I said a long time ago I wanted a black-on-black finals, and the Jazz's colors are purple and green.

NBA Finals

EC-2 Orlando Magic v. WC-7 San Antonio Spurs. This will be the defensive matchup David Stern's been dreaming of. I predict scores like 67-53, 81-80/3OT, and 36-14. We'll probably forget what championship we're watching.

But this, my friends, is where amazing happens.

Passengers: 2/5

2010-04-11T14:37:00.000-04:00

As part of my quest to see all of Anne Hathaway's* movies, I watched Rodrigo Garcia's Passengers last night. It had a neat---but poorly executed---premise. Extremely well acted, rather well written, very poorly put together.

*All the most beautiful actresses are brown-eyed brunettes.

Ms. Hathaway plays Claire Summers (the name sounds meaningful but isn't), a therapist (who is either seeking a Ph.D. or already has one) trying to help the survivors of a plane crash deal with their guilt. There's a twist, but I won't ruin it for you because the movie depends so heavily on it.* Basically, it's a confusing 92 minutes that are supposed to be cleared up in the last 3.

*I read a great article recently about how it's the How of a story and not the If that keeps us coming back, but I can't seem to find it. Something to think about when you're writing your next graphic novel.

And that's fine. It worked for Shyamalan and countless others, so I don't begrudge Garcia going for it. I do, however, begrudge the poor editing. It's a bit like a brilliant philosopher who finds the meaning of life but can't put a sentence together in a meaningful way. No matter how brilliant he or his ideas are, I'll spend so much time figuring out the trees that I'll miss the forest.

I don't want to lambast Thom Noble too much, but he's been doing this since 1966. He ought to know that when I see two people talking in a car followed by a cut to what looks and sounds like a car driving on a street, I expect it to be the same car. Or that I need some kind of visual clue about where I'm at (i.e., is this Claire's apartment or Shannon's or Eric's?). Or that I get really confused when Shot 1---a daylight shot of one character saying to another "Hey, come check this out"---cuts to Shot 2, a nighttime shot of the same two characters getting on a motorcycle. Is the motorcycle what she was supposed to check out? Or is the director keeping something hidden from us?

It's not that my expectations ought to rule the movie. Instead, when little expectations---like a noun coming at the beginning of a sentence---aren't met, I have to stop and think about what's being said. I have to translate the visual sentence into something meaningful. I spent so much of this movie translating the trees that I would have missed the forest if Garcia hadn't burned the whole thing down in a Shyamalanian bonfire.

And I felt played at the end. What began as a mystery thriller turned into a paranormal thriller in the last act before phasing into a family drama for the epilogue. I'm just saying.

Definitely Penny's Boat

2010-04-06T22:48:00.000-04:00

One of the greatest challenges of filmmaking must be casting. Whoever picked these two deserves an award.

Just look at the way they share a boat seat.

All I know is that every time those two are together on screen, it reminds me how lucky I am that The Universe didn't conspire to keep me and The Missus apart.

I have

2010-04-03T19:16:00.000-04:00

This is, quite possibly, my favorite commercial ever.

If you can find a better one, drop a comment.

It Was HIs Sled

2010-04-02T11:30:00.000-04:00

SPOILER ALERT

Jekyll is Hyde. Norman did it. I see dead people.

When I first read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I already knew the twist. Since then, I've re-read it at least twice and watched several film adaptations.

When I first saw Psycho, I already knew the twist. Since then, I've watched it a few times, and I'm actually watching it right now. (Dadgummit, Arbogast, don't go up the stairs.) I asked for (and got) the DVD for my birthday.

When I first saw The Sixth Sense, I already knew the twist. I watched it to see the little tricks Shyamalan pulled to keep the twist secret. I haven't sat down and watched it since.

Another weird pattern. I enjoy each Stevenson book as its own piece of art. I enjoy each Hitchcock film as its own piece of art. But I watch each Shyamalan movie hoping to recapture the magic of The Sixth Sense.*

*For my money, The Village came closest.

Rachel Getting Married: 2/5

2010-03-26T23:23:00.000-04:00

Directed by Jonathan Demme, screenplay by Jenny Lumet, cinematography by Declan Quinn.

I confess: I am a big fan of Anne Hathaway. It began with Ella Enchanted, then the mountains of Genovia, and finally Agent 99. But not even the muse of the Bard could save Rachel Getting Married for me. Her acting---heck, all the acting---was superb; I really cared for and believed in the characters. And the cinematography really tore down that fourth wall. But . . . too little plot, too much confusion, and not enough communication. I spent half the running time trying to figure out what I was missing.

Ms. Hathaway: You did extremely well. Ms. Lumet: not so much.

Web 2.0 for movies

2010-03-19T22:13:00.000-04:00

So I've been active on this website, Flickchart.com, for a few weeks, and I thoroughly enjoy it. Except for one thing.

According to my profile, I have watched 426 movies, consuming 29 days, 23 hours, and 24 minutes of my life, and picked a favorite 1,818 times. But that same profile has been viewed once. And it tells me this depressing fact:

You've got no friends!

Dang. Exclamation point and all.

So if you like movies and you like talking about them, sign up. We can be friends, compare our lists, and have pillow fights.

Or just talk about movies.

So Sideways I'm Lost

2010-03-13T14:47:00.000-05:00

SPOILER ALERT

From C.S. Lewis's The Voyage of the Dawn Treader:

"Child," said Aslan, "did I not explain to you once before that no one is ever told what would have happened?"

In this, the final the season of Lost, the creators have caught some flack for their new experiment, "flash sideways," explorations of what would have happened in a World Without the Island. Ben sacrifices his ambitions for Alex's good; Sayid kills his brother's creditors; Jack works through his daddy issues; Locke comes to terms with his handicap; Kate lets Claire keep her baby. Some people think this is lame.

A friend of mine suggests that he can't decide whether Jacob or The Man in Black is the real bad guy of the series. I'm firmly on Team Jacob, but I am keeping my mind open. Consider this, on the nature of literary tragedy:

After all is said and done, the audience should not feel impotent rage, denial, confusion or having been cheated. They should feel that the ending is a natural outcome to the hero's actions, and that in having faced punishment for those actions they [the audience] are purged of anxiety and worry. The world does make sense, the guilty are punished.

Is't possible that the purpose of the flash-sideways is to give us, the audience, a chance to see what would have happened if Jacob hadn't interfered with everybody? Maybe the flash sideways are meant to telegraph the end of the series, to explain to us that the world does make sense and the guilty are punished.

Don Quixote and Lady Macbeth

2010-03-12T22:49:00.003-05:00

From Stephen King's Firestarter:

Andy moved slowly away from the van. The other fellow . . . had his gun out now. He pointed it at Andy. He was less than fifty feet away. "I advise you very sincerely not to move," he said in a low voice. "This is a Colt forty-five and it makes a giant hole."

The young guy with his wife and baby at the picnic table got up. He was wearing rimless glasses and he looked severe. "What exactly is going on here?" he asked in the carrying, enunciated tones of a college instructor.

The man with Charlie turned toward him. The muzzle of his gun floated slightly away from her so that the young man could see it. "Government business," he said. "Stay right where you are; everything is fine."

The young man's wife grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

Query: Between the young guy and the wife, who is being practical and who is being romantic? Who is being reasonable and who is being irrational? Who is really trying to save lives and who is merely pretending?

Surprise, based on the blog Alico Dreams by Jeremy Masten

2010-03-10T19:24:00.000-05:00

Out of the mouths of multinational corporations:

The Sandra Bullock win really surprised me. Not to say she didn’t deserve to win, but she was going up against Meryl Streep as Julia Child and an awesome performance by Gabourey Sidibe in Precious, which I believe is based on a book or something. It’s hard to tell, because nobody ever mentioned what it’s based on. I guess it will remain a mystery.

Scooby dooby doo---where are you? We've got a job for you, now.

Spoiler Alert

2010-03-09T20:56:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite things about movies is that, if done right, they end with a question you have to ask yourself. Everything is done to build up to that question. The greatest movie of all time asks a question that every successful suitor faces, and what some movies might call the 6-month question:

Now that I got the girl, what do I do?

Similarly, the best movie of 2009 asks a very difficult, very ubiquitous question. For centuries, war has asked women one question (What if my son/brother/husband doesn't come back?) and men another question (What if I don't come back?). We always assume that, if you make it back, society will wrap you in its arms, build you a statue, and try to make it worth your while.

But since the Vietnam fallout, war has asked us a different question, one that has taken us a few decades to work out:

What if my son/brother/husband/I make it back, but he/I can't handle the real world anymore?

The movie doesn't give us the answer, but it asks it very beautifully:

There's also a Russian (or something) dubbed, longer version on YouTube, but this one works.

According to Screenwriter Boal himself:

Both of those scenes, and the juxtaposition between them, sum up the film. . . . The supermarket scene is one that veterans in particular have pointed out to me - it's probably the single scene that they talk about the most, which is surprising to me. It really seems to ring true to a lot of them in the sense of capturing that feeling of being lost when you come back to a normal life.

So that's my two cents.

Stranger in a Strange Land: 3/5

2010-03-06T16:22:00.002-05:00

Today, I finished Robert A. Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land.* The book has two versions, between which I alternated. The 1961 publication ran for 160,067 words and won the Hugo Award. In 1991, the Widow Heinlein published an expanded, original version, which weighed in at 220,000 words.

*I also discovered a new and interesting website.

Since learning to read circa 1988, I have read over 230 books, including 11 in 2010; seen at least 350 movies, including 19 in 2010; read a bazillion cases and statutes; and heard probably over 1,000 sermons and lectures. Perhaps hypocritically, I appreciate brevity. I believe that books longer than 500 pages and movies longer than 2 hours should have a blankity blank good reason for the surplus.* There comes a point where thoroughness gives way to self-indulgence. I simply don't have patience for that.

*Interesting note: Shakespeare never wrote anything longer than 5 acts. I'm just sayin.

And I'm afraid that self-indulgence marred an otherwise good story here. I began in the 1991 version but ran out of steam about three-fourths of the way through. I got tired of reading extended "conversations" between characters that served little more than to either (a) set the table for something coming or (b) give the author a soapbox. So I switched over to the 1961 version and still waded through the last 50 or 60 pages. By "waded," I don't mean to say that those pages were boring or uninteresting; I mean to say that they began as interesting and just went on a little too far. Even the very last page went one sentence too far.

UPDATE: Just ran across Niven's 4th Law for Writers: "It is a sin to waste the reader's time."

Balto, the STL, and the KC

2010-03-01T12:00:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, I noticed that Baltimore has been abandoned in three of the four major North American sports. After some quick research, I learned that no other city has been abandoned four times, but St. Louis and Kansas City each have lost a team in three sports.

First, what you already know.

The New York Yankees were founded as the Baltimore Orioles in 1901, but left after the 1902 season to meet their destiny. This year's Super Bowl runner-up joined the NFL as the Baltimore Colts in 1953, won three NFL championships and Super Bowl V, and left in Mayflower trucks in 1984 after stadium renovation talks fell through. And the Washington Wizards played ten seasons in Baltimore (as the Bullets) before moving a little west in 1973.

Now for what you might not know.

The (second*) Milwaukee Brewers moved to St. Louis for the 1902 season and began play as the Browns. Fifty-one years and a pennant later, they moved to Baltimore for the 1954 season, reviving the old Orioles nickname. Angry about that loss, the City of St. Louis responded by luring the NBA's Hawks away from Milwaukee for the 1955-56 season.** The St. Louis Hawks won the 1958 NBA championship, but couldn't take Mid-American winters. They skipped town in 1968.*** Finally, the Chicago Cardinals moved to St. Louis in 1960, piddled around for almost three decades, then moved to the desert of Arizona in 1987.

*The first Milwaukee Brewers played 36 games in the American Association in 1891 after Kelly's Killers folded.

**Milwaukee and St. Louis should have bitter rivalries. What kind of town steals from another town twice?

***Atlanta must have been the place to be in the late '60s and early '70s. The MLB's Braves moved there (from Milwaukee, believe it or not) in 1966, the NFL's Falcons were founded the same year, the NBA's Hawks moved there in 1968, and the Atlanta (now Calgary) Flames came along in 1972. To recap: in 1965, Georgians had no local teams; less than 10 years later, they were represented in all four major sports. Los Angeles is jealous.

And . . .

The Philadelphia Athletics, trying to push Connie Mack into the grave, moved to Kansas City in 1955. After serving as the Yankees' farm team for 13 seasons, they headed west in 1967. Five years later, the Cincinnati Royals moved to Kansas City, played their 13 seasons (including 1979, when they won the Midwest Division) and headed for Sacramento in 1985. The Kansas City Scouts didn't get the 13-year memo. They joined the NHL in 1974 and moved to Colorado in 1976. Eventually, they would win a hat trick of Stanley Cups as the New Jersey Devils.

Who will be the next thrice-abandoned city? Five American cities have been abandoned twice:

Philadelphia: Athletics (1954) and Warriors (1962)
Minneapolis: Lakers (1960) and ~~North~~ Stars (1993)
Seattle: Brewers (née Pilots) (1969) and Thunder (née Supersonics) (2008)
Chicago: NFL Cardinals (1959) and ~~Packers~~ ~~Zephyrs~~ ~~Bullets~~ Wizards (1963)
Milwaukee: Brewers (1901) and Hawks (1955)

I think it's high time St. Louis stole another team from Milwaukee. It's been a half-century or so.*

*Or I suppose a team from Philadelphia could make its way west to Oakland, but that would involve making a new joke, and Mrs. Moak always told me never to introduce new material in the last paragraph. That probably includes a footnote to the last paragraph. Aw snap.

When in Baltimore

2010-02-28T11:51:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, I bought one of the coolest baseball caps I know:

Now, I know that you say, "Jeremy---you grew up two hours south of Nolan Ryan's 5,000th strikeout and sixth and seventh no-hitters; there is only one 'Pudge' in your vocabulary; you believe strongly in waiting till next year; Rickey Henderson is your favorite player of all time." Yes, that is all true.

But I also hate the Yankees.* And I live in Baltimore. And I love Camden Yards.

*Few cities have a greater claim for hating the Yankees than Baltimore. Now that I think about it, Baltimoreans have been abandoned in three of the four major North American sports. The Colts left in the middle of the night in March 1984, and the Wiz left town in 1973. Interesting question: Have any other cities been abandoned at least 3 times? Does a Baltimore-to-Washington move count as "abandonment"? Post may follow.

Sports are about uniting friends and neighbors against a common enemy, so it doesn't make sense for me to cling exclusively to my Rangers fandom.* It's OK for me to put on an O's cap when I'm in Baltimore and an A's cap when I'm in Oakland and an R's cap when I'm in Dallas.** I know the time will come when I can't have it all three ways, and I will be forced to decide.

*Especially since August 22, 2007. Oh no he didn't. Yes he did, Peter! Yes he did! I just saw him!

**Why don't any National League teams inspire loyalty in me?

But let's face it: October 2010 will not be that time.

Why the Sky is Blue

2010-02-27T23:53:00.000-05:00

Why I think a lot about chemistry:

Chemistry has the power to explain everything in this world, from the ordinary to the bizarre. . . . Understanding chemistry is the key to understanding the world as we know it.

That's also why I think a lot about jurisprudence.

Adventureland: 4/5

2010-02-26T22:53:00.000-05:00

For all of my readers out there with a spec script for a rom-com, this is a key ingredient you must have in your script:

[Y]ou can totally see why James would subject himself to the things that he does in pursuit of Stewart’s Em.

There should be reasons for Guy and Girl to get together. Don't expect your audience to just buy into the old syllogism:

+ Guy is Lead Actor

+ Girl is Lead Actress

> Guy and Girl should fall in love

Life doesn't work that way, and neither should your plot.

The Representative from California

2010-02-23T22:52:00.000-05:00

I am tired of hearing "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" and "When September Ends" and acting like they're anything but boring songs I've heard too many times. AltNation should play lots and lots more "Jesus of Suburbia." Or at least "Basketcase." Sheesh o meesh.

Pirate Latitudes: 3/5

2010-02-20T11:45:00.000-05:00

Pirate Latitudes by Michael Crichton

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Michael Crichton writes three kinds of books: (1) thrilling blockbusters (or at least wannabe blockbusters), like Jurassic Park or Sphere; (2) contemplations on science and the human condition, like State of Fear or The Lost World; and (3) simply fun historical novels, like The Great Train Robbery, Eaters of the Dead, and, now, Pirate Latitudes. So if you only like Crichton for his Jurassic Park-like thrillers, stay away. If you only like Crichton for his Prey-like contemplations, stay away. But if you like lightweight, easy reading that's fun, give it a chance. It's not his best work, but it's not his worst either. (Sphere and Congo, respectively, get my votes.)

Maybe the best I can do is quote Robert Louis Stevenson's prologue to Treasure Island:

If sailor tales to sailor tunes,
Storm and adventure, heat and cold,
If schooners, islands, and maroons,
And buccaneers, and buried gold,
And all the old romance, retold
Exactly in the ancient way,
Can please, as me they pleased of old,
The wiser youngsters of today:
--So be it, and fall on! If not,
If studious youth no longer crave,
His ancient appetites forgot,
Kingston, or Ballantyne the brave,
Or Cooper of the wood and wave:
So be it, also! And may I
And all my pirates share the grave
Where these and their creations lie!

To paraphrase: If you think boats/pirates/sea adventure are cool, you'll probably like this book. If not, you probably won't.

First Law Job

2010-02-19T23:42:00.000-05:00

Because I want to shout it from the rooftops, I'll post it on my blog.

As of this morning, I accepted a position with The Law Offices of Peter G. Angelos. I'll be doing my part to make the world safe to drink groundwater in.

Thank you and good night.

Eye Spy

2010-02-15T22:26:00.000-05:00

Have you ever noticed how you can tell a person's gender by just their voice? And it's not just pitch. When you listen to the artist formerly known as the artist formerly known as Prince, you never think "Is that a fello or a fella?"*

*I guess I should admit that Coheed and Cambria always throw me for a loop.

But here's something interesting: you can usually pick a girl out by her eyes, even if she's trying to look masculine. Case in point:

No matter how you try to disguise yourself as a manly giant-radioactive-ant-fighting entomologist, Ms. Weldon, we can see the truth in your eyes.

Moon: 4.5/5

2010-02-11T20:56:00.000-05:00

I don't often get excited about movies, but two movies in the past year have gotten me really excited. (2009 was an exciting year for movies.) I haven't seen one yet (Sherlock Holmes), and I just saw one last night (Moon). I've seen a lot of movies in the past 12 months, but these are the only two I've been really excited about.

I loved Moon; The Missus hated it. To be fair, this is not the kind of movie you can half-watch and enjoy. Rather, it's the kind of movie where you immerse yourself, float around in it for a while, and never really get your bearings but never really get bored either. (Think: 2001.) Some things can be more important than plot.

Maybe that's what I love about science fiction. One of my favorite reviewers described it this way:

[Science fiction] geeks love clockwork stories full of hidden messages and structural tricks, so much so that the puzzle-solving nature of the narrative is as much a draw as the subject or ideas.

For my money, the plot of Moon (how Sam escapes) is less intriguing than the clockwork nature of the story, its hidden messages, or its structural tricks. Tack on brilliant acting by Sam Rockwell, a phenomenally atmospheric score, beautiful story-reinforcing imagery,* and an interesting play on the how-far-is-too-far theme, and you've got a movie well worth your rental.

*One of my favorite tricks/imagery: the base seems decently roomy, but Sam sleeps in a cramped twin-size bed. That, my friends, is showing-not-telling.

In the interest of full disclosure, I feel I should disclose two things. First, the Moon is my favorite celestial object. Second, I guessed the twist around the 1:07 mark, and you know you always like a movie better when you guess the twist.

By the way, Sherlock Holmes is in my queue for delivery as soon as it comes out on DVD. If you feel bad for me, please donate $20 so The Missus and I can make a date to see it in the comfort of a dark theater.

NFL Predix III: Let's try that again

2010-01-18T20:58:00.000-05:00

To recap the NFL Postseason so far: Jeremy was right about the Cowboys beating the Eagles, the Jets beating the Bengals, and the Ravens beating the Patriots. He picked the Packers, Cardinals, Ravens, Cowboys, and Chargers and lost. So after a sterling 3-1 start, I dropped to 3-5 after the Divisional Playoff Round.

But I am not one to lie in the dust after getting thrown by this bronckin buck. So let's try this again.

Lamar Hunt Bowl XL

The Indianapolis Colts will host the New York Jets in the battle for the Lamar Hunt Trophy. This is the first time these two teams have fought for control of the AFC. The Colts are making their sixth appearance (2-3 overall, 2-1 home), and the Jets are making their third appearance (0-2 overall, 0-2 road). History favors the Colts. I also told my oldest friend back in September that the Jets would make it to the Super Bowl. But my father-in-law is from Indiana, so I'm going to go with the Colts.

George Halas Bowl XL

The New Orleans Saints will host the Minnesota Vikings in the battle for the George Halas Trophy. These teams have never fought for the Halas either. The Saints are making their second appearance (0-1 overall, 0-0 home); the Vikings are making their eighth appearance (3-4 overall, 1-3 road). The Vikings haven't won since 1976. I told my oldest friend back in September that the Saints would make it to the Super Bowl, so I'm picking them.

Super Bowl XLIV

The New Orleans Saints will be making their very first Super Bowl appearance.* The Indianapolis Colts will be making their fourth appearance (second as a midwestern team). The Colts are 2-1, including 1-0 since moving to Indianapolis. I'm a little torn, but I gotta pick the team that beat the team that beat my team. I'm picking the Saints.

*This is ironic because New Orleans has hosted more super bowls than any other city except Miami.

There you have it, folks. Let's hope that I can break even after this week.

Big Shot Brob

2010-01-12T06:35:00.000-05:00

I hate the Lakers, but I love this play:

Kobe misses the short jumper. Shaq misses the put back. Horry nails the 3.

NFL Predix II

2010-01-10T22:41:00.000-05:00

I did pretty well the last go'round: 3/4. But really, was it so daring to pick the Cowboys over the Eagles, the Ravens over the Patriots, and the Jets over the Bengals? I think not. Now we get into the nitty gritty: the NFL Divisional Playoffs. Since I missed one of my games, I decided to re-examine my predictions.

Divisional Playoffs

Ravens at Indianapolis - The Colts beat the Ravens in Baltimore during Week 11, 17-15. This go'round, the Colts are on a 2-game losing streak, and the Ravens are on a 2-game winning streak. I believe in momentum, and I still believe the Ravens win.

Jets at San Diego - The Jets and Chargers meet for the first time since Week 3 of 2008, which the Chargers won in San Diego 48-29. The Jets won their third in a row yesterday, but the Chargers have an 11-game win streak going. All momentum points west. I'm still picking the Chargers.

Cardinals at New Orleans - Last time, I picked the Packers over the Saints. Too bad the Packers lost to the Cardinals, so now I have to re-think my predictions. The Cardinals have won 3 of their last 4, and the Saints have lost their last 3. The friend of my enemy is my friend, so the Cardinals take it.

Cowboys at Minnesota - The last time these two met in the playoffs was during Wild Card Week 1999 in Minnesota. The Vikings won that contest, 27-10. But three years earlier, the Cowboys beat the Vikings during Wild Card Week in Dallas, 40-15. All-time, the two are even, with 10 wins each. But the Cowboys are riding a 4-game winning streak, and the Vikings have lost 3 of their last 5. I still pick the Cowboys.

Conference Championships

Ravens at San Diego - I stand by my prior decision. Chargers win.

Cowboys at Cardinals - The names have changed, but the results are the same. Cowboys win this one by 87.

Super Bowl XLI

Cowboys v. San Diego at Paul Tyson Field - Still no contest. Cowboys all the way.

Current Record: 3-1

The Graduate: 4.5/5

2010-01-08T22:30:00.000-05:00

The Graduate is brilliant and funny in so many ways. And it's the first movie I've ever seen where I actually sat back and thought: "Wow. That was an amazing shot. Incredible."

Here's the scene: Benjamin is telling Elaine the truth before Mrs. Robinson can. He says, "Remember that older woman? Well, it wasn't just any woman." Then Mrs. Robinson opens the door, and Elaine turns around. She looks back at Benjamin, who has a funny look on his face. At first, Elaine is blurry, but slowly she comes into focus.

At just about the speed it takes her to figure out what the look on Benjamin's face means.

I sat back and thought: "Wow. That was an amazing shot. Incredible."

NFL Predix

2010-01-05T20:25:00.000-05:00

The NFL season ended last weekend, and now it's time for you to indulge me by reading my football predictions. Three important qualifications:

I know a little less than the average bear about the NFL.
I grew up in a distant suburb of Dallas.
I'm a big fan of momentum in football.

That said, here are my predictions:

The Wild Card Round

(5) New York* v. (4) Cincinnati - The Jets have won 5 of their last 6, and the Bengals have lost 3 of the last 4. Jets by 17.

*Isn't it great that I only have to type

"New York" and not "New York Jets"?

(6) Eagles v. (3) Cowboys - The Eagles have won 6 of their last 7, but the Cowboys have won 3 in a row, two by shutout (including last week against the Eagles) and one against the then-undefeated Saints. Cowboys by 146.

(6) Ravens v. (3) Patriots - Both the Ravens and the Patriots have won 3 of their last 4. The Ravens won their last game, beating the Raiders when they had to. The Patriots lost their last game, giving the Texans their first ever winning season. Ravens by a safety.

(5) Packers v. (4) Cardinals - The Packers have won 7 of their last 8, and the Cardinals lost half of their last 6 games. The Packers beat the Cardinals in Week 17. Packers by 6.

Odd note: Jets-Bengals, Eagles-Cowboys, and Packers-Cardinals are all repeats of Week 17. I wonder how often that's happened.

The Divisional Round

(1) Saints v. (5) Packers - The Saints won their first 13 games, then lost their last 3. The Packers will be riding a streak of 3 in a row and 8 of their last 9. Packers will brees by.

(2) Vikings v. (3) Cowboys - The Vikings have lost 3 of their last 5. The Cowboys will be running a 4-game winning streak. Cowboys by 4.

(1) Colts v. (6) Ravens - The Colts won their first 14 and lost their last 2. The Ravens will have won 4 of their last 5, including 2 in a row. Ravens by a feather.

(2) Chargers v. (5) New York - The Chargers have won 11 in a row. I don't think the Jets have anything for that. Chargers win it at Waco High Stadium.

Conference Championship Round

(5) Packers v. (3) Cowboys - I got nothing. Cowboys by 87.

(6) Ravens v. (2) Chargers - Chargers will have won 12 in a row. And we all want to see a Super Bowl at Waco High Stadium. Chargers by 12.

Super Bowl XLIV at Waco High Stadium

It would be even cooler if it were at Paul Tyson Field. Cowboys crush Chargers and embarrass L.T.II.

You heard it hear first, folks.

Elle Eye Vee Eye Inn

2009-12-09T21:37:00.002-05:00

I grew up on the wisdom of David Wooderson, so maybe that explains much of my Weltanschauung. But I've also read a bit of Descartes, Locke, Kant, and Wittgenstein (my personal favorite), as well as King, Asimov, Dickens, and Blatty. Oh, and I can't forget Stevenson, Fleming, Crichton, and Fitzgerald. I have even read an essay or two by Russell and Lewis. And here is my conclusion: We are all at least a little bit wrong. The guy who knows he's wrong is a little closer to being right than the guy who doesn't. But the guy who thinks he's right about knowing that he's wrong, well, maybe he's wrong about being right about being wrong, and that makes him a little less right and a little more wrong.*

*Now you see the Wooderson coming out.

Science, like law, works best in an adversarial system. Holmes called it "the marketplace of ideas." The foundation of the scientific method is the systematic observation of reproducible phenomena. If it ain't reproducible, it ain't science. You hypothesize an explanation, experiment, observe, and adjust. Then you write up a lab report and get it published. If I don't like your explanation, I can repeat your procedure and see what happens. No matter how much I hate using your explanation to connect the observable cause with the observable result, it's hard to argue with my own observations.

But what if your explanation covers something that's not reproducible? What if you refer to an unobservable cause, for example? How can I dispute your explanation? Since I can't reproduce it, my best bet is an ad hominem attack. I'll call you stupid or biased or incompetent, and you'll call me lazy or backward or illegitimate, and we'll be three steps closer to Truth.*

*After all, under the Masten Theory of the Universe,

you are in fact stupid, biased, and incompetent, and I

am in fact lazy, backward, and illegitimate.

When you step out of the realm of reproducibility, you step into the realm of logical (or illogical) conclusions. And the rules of logic may yet, like the laws of physics, prove not entirely dependable.

What's the point of all this rant? Simply this: reproducibility and truthiness are not synonyms, nor should passionate belief be confused with knowledge. Too many unthinking, close-minded scientists make the first blunder, and too many unthinking, close-minded religious zealots make the second.

Home is where the heart is

2009-12-05T15:49:00.000-05:00

This, amigos, is my place of abode.

Amazing, I know.

Response does not compute

2009-12-02T08:08:00.000-05:00

Today, I was reading a two-day-old article about the manhunt for the guy who killed four police outside Seattle last Sunday, when I ran across this:

Police later learned he may have been in a house in Seattle. After an all-night siege in which they tried to get him out using loudspeakers, explosions and a robot sent into the house, a SWAT team stormed the place and discovered he was not there.

Wait, what? They sent a robot into the house?? What is this, Robocop? They should have sent this guy:

He'd have gotten the job done, unless he tripped on the stairs.

Two Triolets

2009-11-27T12:16:00.000-05:00

Two triolets for my loyal readers. The first is one written by Gail White called "Worker Bees":

Staring at fluorescent screens,
letting life pass by unheeded,
little better than machines
staring at fluorescent screens,
we’ll pass on our altered genes
to generations who’ll be seated
staring at fluorescent screens,
letting life pass by unheeded.

True story. The second is my very amateur attempt at triolet poetry. I call it "Loyalty":

I sit next to you,
And you sit next to me.
When storms are all a-brew
I just sit next to you.
We don't need the lee;
We enjoy the breeze
When I sit next to you
And you sit next to me.

And there you have it. I hope you enjoyed our little excursion into medieval French poetry.

Renewed Lease on Life

2009-11-19T23:17:00.000-05:00

My computer is a couple of years old and can run very slowly at times. I had to shut it down with difficulty several times in the past couple of weeks. Rather than lament the state of the economy and my computer, I took charge. I installed Xubuntu. In fact, I'm typing this post from within Xubuntu right now. So far, my only complaints are (1) no iTunes (so I have to borrow The Missus's computer for that) and (2) no Chrome. Of course, the most important nice thing is that I am having (so far) super performance. Who knew my old computer could go this fast?

I'll keep you posted, now that I can.

2 out of 2 ain’t bad

2009-11-07T15:53:00.001-05:00

The results are as yet unofficial, but the Baylor University School of Law is, so far as I know, batting 1.000 on the July 2009 Maryland General Bar Examination. Congratulations are particularly in order for Mr. Dylan Q. Springmann, who rocked the sports law essay so hard they gave him a 7 on a scale of 6 and then counted it three times instead of the more typical two.

If you pass him in the hall, be sure to give him a high five.

The World Has Turned and Left Me Here

2009-11-05T21:59:00.001-05:00

Once again, truth, justice, and the American way give way to lies, favoritism, and the American way. The Yankees won World Series CV, giving them a record 816 banners in their rafters. Therefore, I present to you this beautiful poem by Robert S. Wieder, titled “Baseball”:

If this terse rhyme, about our pastime
Seems a little cranky,
It’s possibly because the writer
Hates the F&$%ing Yankees.

Soulmates: A Sestina

2009-11-03T20:28:00.001-05:00

At six o'clock, I wake up to alarms
Wanting me to get up on my legs.
I'm missing one; I reach out for my crutch.
Aluminum is all the latest fancy.
I hobble to the bathroom, pull the cord
That lights the room, awaking and frustrating.

I hobble to my closet. How frustrating
That all my clothes don't fit. That fire alarm
That doused my clothes: it shrunk up all my cord's.
They once were long enough inside the leg
But now are short and ratty. Stupid crutch
That makes me hobble keeps me free of fancies.

I used to think a woman was a fancy
Way to keep a man in line, frustrating
His ideas, acting like a crutch
When all he needs is truth, a rough alarm
To wake him up and put him on his legs.
She’s like, I thought, a pretty minor chord.

But women aren't instruments whose chords
Can be predicted. No, they're much too fancy
For that. I met a woman on her legs
Who found that I could be a bit frustrating.
The day we met, outside the school, alarms
Were blaring, answering my lifelong crush.

She probably wouldn't like me as a crutch;
She's probably good enough to find accord;
She wakes up on her own, with no alarm
And leads a life of art, of something fancy;
She probably never finds herself frustrated;
She knows exactly what keeps her on her legs.

And I'm afraid that I do, too. Her legs,
So perfect that she doesn't need a crutch.
And what am I? A burden, a frustration.
She knows this song and dance; she’s played the chords.
I've grown attached to her, I think I fancy
That she's what keeps me waking sine alarm.

So when I say that I don't need alarms,
And when you notice that I have both my legs,
And when you wonder whether I'm too fancy,
Remember I am just a man. My crutch
Is she who keeps me walking, playing chords
That soothe and vent and cut off all frustration.

She's on her legs, she pulls the cords
That drag my crutch into my fancy.
No more frustration, no more alarm.

So much to live for

2009-11-02T23:35:00.001-05:00

I read this today and thought you might like it.

A Ballade of Suicide, by G.K. Chesterton

The gallows in my garden, people say,
Is new and neat and adequately tall;
I tie the noose on in a knowing way
As one that knots his necktie for a ball;
But just as all the neighbours---on the wall---
Are drawing a long breath to shout “Hurray!”
The strangest whim has seized me. . . . After all
I think I will not hang myself to-day.

To-morrow is the time I get my pay---
My uncle’s sword is hanging in the hall---
I see a little cloud all pink and grey---
Perhaps the rector’s mother will not call---
I fancy that I heard from Mr. Gall
That mushrooms could be cooked another way---
I never read the works of Juvenal---
I think I will not hang myself to-day.

The world will have another washing-day;
The decadents decay; the pedants pall;
And H.G. Wells has found that children play,
And Bernard Shaw discovered that they squall,
Rationalists are growing rational---
And through thick woods one finds a stream astray
So secret that the very sky seems small---
I think I will not hang myself to-day.

Envoi

Prince, I can hear the trumpet of Germinal,
The tumbrels toiling up the terrible way;
Even to-day your royal head may fall,
I think I will not hang myself to-day.

Pack up your things and go

2009-10-27T21:01:00.001-04:00

When I was in high school, I made sandwiches for Subway Sandwiches and Salads. I started my career in sandwich art at Store 10882, but I really shined at Store 3035. I transferred there as part of a reorganization of that store. They were slowly eliminating some terrible workers one by one, as just (enough) cause arose, and replacing them mostly with workers from other stores. I came over about halfway through the transition.

One of my eliminated coworkers was a girl named Robin. She got in trouble for cursing at a customer. One week she was on the schedule; the next week, she wasn’t. She called me at work the day the schedule came out and asked what her hours were. I told her she wasn’t on the schedule, and she asked me, rather politely, “Why the f--- not??” I told her she should probably call our district manager, Dwight Schrute.

The next time I saw her was payday. When Robin asked for her paycheck, I informed her of Subway’s policy of holding the final paycheck until the entire uniform had been returned. She asked me why in three words that start with w, t, and f, respectively, and I confessed ignorance. “Whatever,” she agreed and promised to bring her uniform back. I held on to her $67-check.

A few minutes later, Robin returned with a green Subway shirt crumpled up like a snowball with a rock inside. She pegged me with it, explaining, “There’s your f---ing piece of s--- uni-f---ing-form. G--d--- I hate this f---ing s---hole. Gimme my f---ing paycheck.” I complied with her request and wished her happy trails.

Before today, that was my only real experience with existential process of termination.

NBA 2009-10 = a w e s o m e

2009-10-26T22:33:00.001-04:00

If you are unconvinced of the NBA’s greatness, please read Mark Heisler’s column in the Baltimore Sun. You now know why 2009-10 could be one of the most competitive and exciting years in NBA history. Everybody has this one shot to make it count. But I tend to agree with Bill Simmons: 2010 is the Year of the Spur.

That is all.

Ain’t Nothin but a 1950 Party

2009-10-21T00:02:00.001-04:00

Because I like baseball, I’m going to post twice tonight. With the Yankees’ 10-1 trouncing of the Angels, it looks like we’re going to see a rematch of the unforgettable 1950 World Series, which the Yankees swept. While doing research to see how many times these two teams have met in the World Series I discovered something neat.

In 1914 and 1915, back when five cities had dual representation*, two cities presaged the patriotic Super Bowl XXXIX. In 1914, the Boston Braves swept the Philadelphia Athletics in the World Series. Then, in 1915, the Boston Red Sox charged past the Philadelphia Phillies in five games. So, Boston beat Philadelphia twice in a row, but with different teams. I wonder how many times that kind of thing has happened.

*New York, Chicago, St. Louis, Boston, and Philadelphia.

Life Imitates Me

2009-10-20T22:16:00.001-04:00

A couple of years ago, I took a bus from Manhattan to D.C. As we were just about to go under the Hudson River, I noticed that all the cars around us were like us: taxis, buses, delivery trucks. There were no private cars. At that moment, I had a brilliant idea: What if you closed off a city to all traffic except for certain licensed vehicles, like public transportation or taxis and delivery trucks?

I still think about the idea, most commonly when I’m commuting home from work. (I imagine the press conference, with an almost-chic young reporter standing on the steps of city hall, “Thanks, Tom. I’m here at Baltimore City Hall where---just today---the city council voted . . . “) Tonight, I opened up my Baltimore Sun and saw some evidence that other people have had the same idea: “D.C.-area planners crack down on parking: Capacity cut, costs raised to get people out of cars.” The article concludes by noting that Federal City has reduced its minimum parking requirements in recent years from 4 spots for every 1,000 square feet of retail space to just 1 spot.

I’m generally a fan of public transportation, but I think there are two things to keep in mind. First, public transportation is either really good (e.g., New York City subway system) or really limited (e.g., Waco, Texas, bus system), and it takes a lot of time and money to get a really good system. And second, like the right to own property, the right to physically move about (mostly) freely is one of the cornerstones of liberty. I’m just saying.

Hater of Earths

2009-10-15T07:39:00.001-04:00

I just did the math. It costs me less money to drive to work than take public transportation. The proofs:

Driving = 30.6 miles round trip / 20 mpg* x $2.50/gallon** = $3.83 per day

Light rail = 7.4 miles round trip / 20 mpg x $2.50/gallon + $3.20 fare = $4.13 per day

It should be noted that I get free parking downtown. Otherwise, light rail would win by as much as fifteen dollars. I will further grant that taking the light rail would give me about two hours’ reading time each day and that the earth would love me more. But at this point in my career---newly printed J.D. still smells like the calligrapher’s cologne---I sell out the earth for just 30 cents a day.

*I actually get a little better (usually around 23), but I wanted to give public transportation as much help as I could.

**Last night, I bought gas for $2.31 per.

Let’s Try This Again

2009-10-12T22:37:00.001-04:00

Last week, I made my baseball playoffs predictions. I was right about the Twins beating the Tigers, the Dodgers beating the Cardinals, and the Phillies beating the Rockies. I was wrong about the two teams I hate more than any other in baseball: the Angels and the Yankees. That makes me an unhappy 3-2 by my count.

Since I was right about the Dodgers and Phillies, my prediction as to them stands: I still pick the Dodgers.

Between the Yankees and the Angels . . . can I pick them both to lose? I find that I hate both teams too much to want either one to win. I am ashamed that the American League couldn’t come up with any one capable of beating either of those teams. Ugh. Yet choose I must, and I pick the Yankees. Here’s why.

First, I hate the Angels more than I hate the Yankees. I will catch some flak for that, but what is popular is not always right and what is right is not always popular. I’m taking a stand for individualism right here.

Second, statistically, the Yankees dominated the Twins just a little more than the Angels dominated the Red Sox. The Yankees come into the ALCS with a Pythagorean win-expectation of 5.90 compared to the Angels’ 5.74, based on their respective divisional series.*

Third, the Dodgers and Yankees have a classic rivalry. They haven’t met in the World Series since 1981, but before that, they met twice in the 1970s (1977 and 1978), once in the 1960s (1963), four times in the 1950s (1952, 1953, 1955, and 1956), and three times in the 1940s (1941, 1947, and 1949). That means these guys have played each other for the world championship eleven times. I’d be willing to bet that’s more than any other two teams in baseball. The Dodgers have only won three times (1959, 1963, and 1981), but I think momentum can stretch 28 years.

The Dodgers and Yankees are the Cowboys and Steelers or the Lakers and Celtics of baseball.** Given our options, it’d be nice to see that rivalry renewed.

And fourth, nobody wants a Staples Center Series. That’d be waaaaaaay too lame.

*If you’re interested in where I came up with those numbers, ask me in a comment and I’ll let you know.

**Somehow I doubt Bud Selig is peeing in his pants for a Dodgers-Yankees championship as much as David Stern was for a Celtics-Lakers NBA Finals back in 2008.

Quarantine: 4/5

2009-10-11T22:57:00.001-04:00

Tonight, The Missus and I watched our third movie of the weekend, Quarantine. Shot in the style of The Blair Witch Project and Cloverfield, Quarantine tells the tale of a late-night reporter (Jennifer Carpenter of Emily Rose fame) and her cameraman as they shadow Los Angeles firefighters one night. The firefighters answer a call at an apartment building where, it turns out, there is some kinda crazy version of rabies going around. The apartment complex is quarantined off, and the scares begin.

First, let me say that I liked the premise of this movie. I've said before, and I'll say again, that I'm not a big fan of you'll-be-scared-after-you-think-about-it horror. I think the scariest premises are those that scare you now and scare you later. Here, we have some crazy mutation of rabies running amok in an apartment building. This is scary now because we've got these crazy rabid killers trying to get at our heroine. It's scary later because we live in a time when genetic research on diseases just might be creating crazy strains of rabies and we don't even know it. Plus, the film gets the nightmare bonus for some pretty stick-with-you visuals. That said, the film does rely a lot on jumpy scares. Still, three points for the premise.

Second, I liked the characters in this movie. I liked Angela Vidal (Carpenter's character---really, I'm becoming a Jennifer Carpenter fan); I liked the cameraman, I liked Firefighter Jay, and the cop we got to know. I even liked the landlord, the British opera teacher, and the vet. I think the actors did a great job of bringing these characters to life and making them someone I cared about. Each time someone died, I felt sad. That, I think, might be the key to good horror, making the audience care when something horrible happens. So five points for characters I liked.

Third, I'm not the biggest fan of realistic-style, first-person camera work. Maybe it's your thing, maybe it added to the realism (which all horror needs to some extent), maybe it even added to the horror. But I started the movie with a headache, and the shaky camera only added to my queasiness. That said, the fact that we could only see what the camera picked up made the last fifteen minutes or so ten times scarier than it could have been. So, break even points for camera work.

Finally, I love that this film is only 89 minutes long and that it tells a story 89 minutes long. I hate bloat. Every scene should either (a) advance the plot or (b) develop the characters meaningfully, and each scene should only last as long as necessary to do either of those. Maybe that's demanding, but I don't care. I don't have time to waste watching your self-indulgence.

If I leave here tomorrow

2009-10-11T12:01:00.000-04:00

. . . would you still remember me?

I'm thinking of migrating over to Wordpress. I've been playing around with it a little bit, and I might prefer its interface. I also have an app on my iPod Touch that would let me draft posts without connecting to the internet. Big disadvantage: I don't think Wordpress lets commenters get notification of later comments without having a Wordpress account.

Any thoughts?

Scary Book 2009, Take 2

2009-10-10T23:07:00.000-04:00

Well, The Dead Zone was a bust. It's a decent novel with an interesting premise and maybe a few too many pop culture references,* but it just plain wasn't scary.** At least not in the way that I wanted to be scared. I want the kind of book that makes me scared to turn the light off. Why? I don't know. Maybe just because it's Halloween. Ray Bradbury has pulled it off, and Stephen King has pulled it off before. But I'm not going to either of them for Jeremy's Halloween 2009 Scary Book Extravaganza. No, sirs and ma'ams, that honor goes to golden-age-of-science-fiction author Richard Matheson. I really enjoyed What Dreams May Come last summer, though I can't remember if it made me scared to turn the light off. I do recall the movie having some chilling scenes.

OK, OK. Without further ado, here is Second Chance Sam's Second Try at Being Scared for Halloween 2009:

Sure looks scary, eh? One early edition touted it as the scariest science fiction tale you'll ever read. I shall be the judge of that, my friends.

*While I firmly believe in looking up words I don't know, I get annoyed having to look up a pop culture reference---for the eighty-third time---because I'm reading the book thirty years after it was published. We sometimes forget that people down the road might not know everything we know as intimately as we know it. If you want proof, play any version of Trivial Pursuit from before 2000. And . . . 5 points for anybody who knows who Arthur Bremer is.

**Some might argue that it would be scary to be in Johnny's position. Meh. I hate it when people say things like, "The scariest part of 'Salem's Lot was how everybody knew something terrible was happening but nobody did anything but run away." Bah, humbug. The scariest part of 'Salem's Lot was when Jimmy, Ben, and Mark go vampire-hunting. Well, really, any Mark-centric passage.

Baseball Playoffs Predictions 2009

2009-10-04T18:28:00.001-04:00

The 2009 Major League Baseball season ends today. The once mighty and foreign stRangers were eliminated a few days ago despite having the best record in baseball at one point in May or June. That said, here's how I think things will fall out in the next few weeks:

American League Central One-Game Playoff

The Detroit Tigers and Minnesota Twins will engage in a one-game playoff in Minnesota on Tuesday. These two teams have been playing each other since 1901, and the Tigers lead the all-time series by 75 games (1032-957). But the Twins have won the last two years, both 11-7. Finally, the Twins have won 8 of their last 10, while the Tigers have won only 4 of their last 10. Ergo, I pick the Twins.

American League Division Series

One of these series will involves two thieves: the Boston Red Sox and Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. The Angels stole the AL West, and the Red Sox stole the AL Wild Card, both from the Rangers. But let's get past that and look at the history. The Red Sox lead the all-time series by 35 games (312-277), but the Angels squeaked by this season, winning the season series 5-4. These teams have some serious recent post-season history: this will be the third year in a row they've faced each other in the ALDS. Boston won the first two, 3-0 and 3-1. The Red Sox also swept the Angels in the 2004 ALDS. And, because the Red Sox won the 1986 ALCS 4-3, it should be noted the Angels have never beaten the Red Sox in a post-season series. So either they're due for a win, or they're doomed. Because I like the Red Sox marginally better than the Angels, I pick the Red Sox.

In the other ALDS, the New York Yankees will take on the Minnesota Twins. These teams' history goes back to the founding of the American League in 1901, back when they were known as the Baltimore Orioles and Washington Senators, respectively. For those two years, the Orioles won 22, and the Senators 17. The Yankees swept this season's series (7-0) and haven't lost the season series since 2001,* although the teams split 2005 and 2006. In their mutual playoffs histories, the Yankees beat the Twins 3-1 in both the 2003 and 2004 ALDS. Those are the only times the two have met in the post-season. But in the name of Kirby Puckett and all that is right with the world, I pick the Twins.

National League Division Series

The Colorado Rockies and Philadelphia Phillies meet again. These two have only been playing each other since 1993, and the Phillies lead the all-time series by 15 games (73-58). The Phillies won the 2009 series 4-2 and swept the 2008 series. In their only post-season match-up, the Rockies swept the Phillies in the 2007 NLDS.** The Rockies have been hot lately, and the Phillies have been cold, but I like Cliff Lee (who, also, has been cold lately). So pick the Phillies.

And in the other NLDS, the Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles play the best-of-five against the St. Louis Cardinals. These teams probably go back to 1883, but I only have stats to 1901: the Cardinals have won 32 more games between the two: 951-919. The Cardinals won this year's series (5-2) and haven't lost the series since 2003. Their last post-season match-up was the 2004 NLDS, which the Cardinals won 3-1, on their way to being swept by the Red Sox in the World Series. Before that, the Cardinals won the 1985 NLCS (on their way to losing the I-70 Showdown). Because I am a closet Dodgers fan and I don't particularly care for the Cardinals (except Lou Brock), I pick the Dodgers.

American League Championship Series

The Twins and the Red Sox have never faced each other in the playoffs.*** Do I think the Twins can ride their current wave of success like the 2007 Rockies until they crash into the Green Monster? Absolutely. I'll do one better: I pick the Twins as the 2009 AL Champions.

National League Championship Series

For the second year in a row, the Dodgers have the Phillies standing between them and their first world championship since the 1980s. Last year, the Phillies won the NLCS in five games. Back in the year of my birth, the Phillies took the pennant from the Dodgers, 3-1. The Dodgers haven't beaten the Phillies in October since 1978, when they won 3-1. The Dodgers also took the pennant over the Phillies in 1977, also 3 games to 1.**** It's hard for me to pick which of these two teams I prefer. They both have that lovable long-term underdog charisma. Since the Phillies popped the cork last year, I pick the Dodgers as the 2009 NL Champions.

The Laker Series*****

The Twins and Dodgers have only faced each other in the post-season once: the 1965 World Series. The Twins took the first two games in Minnesota before dropping Games 3, 4, and 5 in Los Angeles. The Twins won Game 6, but then couldn't score a run in any of the nine innings they swung a bat against Sandy Koufax in Game 7. Can the Dodgers party like it's 1965? I'm saying it: Go Dodgers.

*Ironically, the second-to-last time they made it to the World Series.

**That was part of their remarkable run at the end of the 2007 season. They swept the Phillies, then the Diamondbacks, then got swept by the Red Sox.

***How weird is it that that's weird this year? Every other match-up has at least one post-season series between them.

****1977 and 1978 were twins of each other. The Yankees, Royals, Dodgers, and Phillies all won their respective divisions both years. The Yankees beat the Royals 3-2 and 3-1, while the Dodgers beat the Phillies 3-1 both years. Then, the Yankees won both world series 4-2.

*****Five points to anybody who gets my obscure reference.

Carry on my wayward son

2009-10-02T21:55:00.000-04:00

Because you come here to read thoughts you won't read anywhere else, I want you to know that the heads of us bloggers swell every time somebody does something like comment or link or even bring up the blog in conversation. We like to feel that, in our own small way, we are contributing to the marketplace of ideas.

That is all.

The towels are kinda scratchy

2009-10-01T07:35:00.000-04:00

It's that time of year again: time for me to read a scary book for Halloween. It all started on Columbus Day 2005. I had the dark, rainy day off, but The Missus didn't. By coincidence, I had finished a book just the night before. The mood was perfect for a classic tale of horror, so I pulled Bram Stoker's Dracula off the shelf. For the next few weeks, I buried myself in Stoker's masterpiece. When I turned the last page, I had been more scared and more satisfied than since I saw The Exorcist. I read Stephen King's It in 2006 and Insomnia in 2007. In 2008, I read The Shining. Now, my friends, I burst forth with a new scary book for 2009:

That's right. I'm entering The Dead Zone.

Stephenie Meyer self-deprecates

2009-09-30T21:09:00.000-04:00

Periodically, I like to put quotes that I've written down up on Goodreads.com. (That's where the quotes you see to your right come from.) Today, I was looking through those quotes, and I noticed this one from Stephenie Meyer's Eclipse:

[Edward:] "I still think it would be a better story if either of them had one redeeming quality."
[Bella:] "I think that may be the point," . . . "Their love IS their only redeeming quality."

For my part, the Edwardobellan romance did less to redeem the saga than did all the interesting trivia associated with vampires. Those of you who know both me and the saga well know that there was one romance that would have made the saga compelling for me . . .

Summaries

2009-09-27T23:20:00.000-04:00

After publishing my last post, I realized that it was very, very long. Here is the poetic gist---iambic pentameter!---of my statistical harangue:

I've given up on baseball for the year.
The Rangers disappoint me every time.
I should have seen it coming back in June.

Thank you and goodnight.

Save the Wettelands

2009-09-27T23:10:00.000-04:00

Warning: baseball post.

The closer is under attack. His main stat---the save---they call illegitimate. They say he's overpaid, overglorified, and underqualified. But I say he's the missing piece of your 2009 Texas Rangers.

A pitcher is credited with a save when he obtains at least one out to finish a game won by his team. He cannot be the pitcher credited with the win, and he must have entered the game with at least three innings left or with the potential tying run on base, at bat, or on deck.* You can see the value of a stolid closer---a fireman in the mold of the fabled Goose Gossage---by looking at conversion rate. The conversion rate is the percentage of times a closer records a save when he has the opportunity to. Mathematically:

Saves / (Saves + Blown Saves)

A pitcher blows a save when he gives up the lead, regardless of the end result of the game. The value of the conversion rate lies in its measure of a closer's reliability, of his ability to do what he's supposed to do. To illustrate, we'll compare a pitcher who recorded a high number of saves to the closers for recently successful teams and the closers of one of the most consistently dominant teams in recent history.

In 2008, Francisco Rodriguez saved a record-breaking 62 games for the Angels, helping them win the AL West for the fourth time in five years. But he also blew 7 saves. His conversion rate was only 90 percent. In Game 2 of the ALDS against the Red Sox, he came on in the top of the 9th to keep the game tied at 5. Instead, he gave up a two-run home run to J.D. Drew. The Angels lost 7-5 and fell behind two games to none as the series headed to Boston. The Angels won Game 3, despite Rodriguez's nerve-wracking, six-batter 10th inning, only to lose the series in Game 4 on Jed Lowrie's walk-off single. You'll notice who they didn't bring on in the bottom of the 9th to keep the tie. Rodriguez signed with the Mets in the off-season, and the Angels didn't much care.**

Now let's look at recently successful teams. Philadelphia's Brad Lidge converted all 41 of his save opportunities in 2008. At the same time, Tampa Bay's Troy Percival and Dan Wheeler combined to convert only 41 of their 50 save opportunities---a paltry 82 percent. The Phillies won the World Series in 5 games.

In 2007, Boston's Jonathan Papelbon converted 37 of his 40 save opportunities (93 percent), and Colorado's two closers combined for 7 relief losses and 10 blown saves---a conversion rate of only 80 percent. The Red Sox swept the Rockies, and Papelbon is credited saving three of those games. (To be fair, Colorado never presented its closers with a save opportunity.)

What about the 2007 Cleveland Indians? Their rotation included CC Sabbathia, Fausto Carmona, Paul Byrd, and an up-and-coming Cliff Lee. They started games just fine. But when they needed somebody to hold onto a close game, they could only turn to Joe Borowski. His 5 relief losses and 8 blown saves limited his conversion rate to only 85 percent. The Indians slipped past the Yankees with two blowouts in the ALDS, then fought Boston to the bitter end in the ALCS. Borowski finished Games 1, 2, 3, and 6 against the Red Sox, racking up a 4.50 ERA while giving up 6 hits and 3 walks and striking out only 1 batter in 4 innings. It's hard to say how much his performance mattered. He didn't blow any saves, but Game 3, for which he earned the save, was the only close one.

Finally, let's talk about America's team: the Atlanta Braves. From 1991 until 2005, they won their division every year except 1994.*** The 1991 Braves won the pennant but lost the World Series. Three relievers were presented with at least 10 save opportunities, and their combined conversion rate was 90 percent. The 1992 Braves tried the same tri-closer strategy. The trio combined to convert 74 percent of the time, and the Braves lost to the Blue Jays in the World Series. In 1993, they dropped one of their closers, converted only 85 percent of their opportunities, and lost the NLCS to the Phillies. In 1994, Greg McMichael was their ninth-inning guy, and he converted only 68 percent of the time. (That's the year they finished second in the NL East.) In 1995, Mark Wohlers took over closing duties, but he only converted 86 percent of his opportunities.**** Over the next decade or so, their closers, on average, converted only 85 percent of their save opportunities. The best three years came when an aging John Smoltz took over ninth-inning duties. Even he, however, could convert only 91 percent of the time from 2002 to 2004.

The lesson: If you don't have a reliable closer, you probably won't win the World Series. That is why, my friends who have held on this long, the Rangers will probably not win either the AL West or the AL Wild Card. Even if they did, they would probably not survive the ALDS, much less the ALCS or the World Series. C.J. Wilson and Frank Francisco have combined to convert only 38 of their 46 save opportunities, a lame 83 percent conversion rate. I like C.J., and I like Frank, but without a stolid closer, we lose too many heartbreakers. Like tonight's 7-6 tear-jerker against the Devil Rays.

But there's always next year.

--------------------
* This explains the traditional rule of thumb, i.e., that the pitcher pitches at least one inning and the lead was no bigger than 3 runs.
** Nor have they much noticed his absence. Brian Fuentes has converted 44 of 51 save opportunities (a rate of 86 percent), and they will (hopefully not) win the AL West by a comfortable margin. Sounds like the same old song and dance to me.
*** I think it's worth noting that the Expos were only up by 6 games with almost 50 left to play when the players struck. It's not unreasonable to think that the Braves might have caught on fire or the Expos fallen asleep during those six weeks.
****Admittedly, they beat the Indians in the World Series. The Indians closer, Jose Mesa, converted 46 of 48 saves that year, a highly respectable 96 percent.

Percolation

2009-09-17T20:51:00.004-04:00

The stRangers have revealed their identities, and we knew them better than we hoped. Maybe that's not fair. Two or three key players got hurt pretty late in the season, and ~~Emperor Palpatine~~ Jon Daniels didn't plan contingently. As The Missus told me tonight: There's always next year. Ah, that too familiar September elegy. So now, I sit tight until October 28, when Los Spurs start their unprecedented even-season domination in SA against the Hornets.

What was I talking about?

Oh, right. Why I blog. I blog because I like writing. I enjoy the process of pushing the thoughts in my head through the filter of my fingertips. I enjoy the feeling of my fingers in position on the home row and ready to light the world on fire with prose. I even enjoy the muffled sound of my keyboard doing its thing. So that's why I blog. I hope you read my stuff, and I hope you enjoy reading my stuff. And I enjoy your comments, but really, this is a very selfish thing. There are no themes---except me. I write about what I want to write about when I want to write about it. You're welcome to read whatever and whenever you want, but, of course, you don't have to. I'll be here either way, putting my thoughts out into the indelible ether of the interwebs.

Oscar Wilde once complained about the growing lack of useless information. I'm just trying to make a dead man happy.