The Nonsensical Ravings Of A Lunatic Mind

King Warrior Lord of All Geekdom

Wed, 05 Oct 2005 02:09:55 GMT

I used to say that "nerd" is a term used to describe someone who simply allows themselves to enjoy things more than other people. That statement has become more complicated. What was once thought of simply as a nerd has become many different terms each conveying a different type of person, some of these terms extremely negative, some not so much. Someone was recently discussing with me how many different genres of heavy metal music there are, and i'm sure there are as many genres of nerd, if not infinitely more. If there is such a thing as pirate metal, i guarantee you there are probaby several types of pirate nerds.

You might want to check out the words nerd, geek, dork, etc. on urbandictionary.com for some humorous takes on the defnitions. Please do not click on the word "dork" if you are easily offended. It is obvious that some of those user submitted defintions lack some accuracy because of the emotional connection some submitters obviously feel with their respective nomenclatures.

I today shall focus on the offshoot sub genre of the original "nerd" term, known as "geek". The evolution of my original definition has brought me to the following: A geek is someone who involuntarily enjoys things that have nothing to do with real life or the material world to a degree that is unimaginable, nay inconceivable, to mere mortals. The fact that my definition has changed to include the words "nay" and "mere mortals" should clue you into the fact that I myself am an unabashed geek. I feel slightly like a Highlander or someone from Clash of the Titans while saying "mere mortals". If you were reminded of "The Princess Bride" when you read the word inconceivable, you also may be a geek, just not the "King Warrior Lord" variety like me.

I believe a "geek" doesn't necessarily have to have the social stigma that is associated with being a "nerd". I have many friends, yes many are geeks, but i find geeks all in all to be more socially intelligent than your average hardcore nerd. Nerds also don't necessarily have to be consumed with things that have nothing to do with the material world. They could be obsessed with computers, for instance. Nerds almost always trend toward being elitist and lonely, whereas geeks like to get together with large groups of friends to enjoy and discuss their pasttimes. Nerds enjoy being the only one to know about computers, whereas geeks like to convert their non-geek freinds into geeks, ensuring that someone else can pass on to future generations their useless but fascinating knowledge.

I have much to say on this subject, including many personal stories to establish in stone my King Warrior Lordhood of all Geekdom, but I have to go currently. I've decided to make this article an ongoing series. I am eager to hear other thoughts on this subject though. Until next time...

Uninspired Wednesday Post

Thu, 29 Sep 2005 05:53:55 GMT

I haven't updated in awhile, and someone mentioned I should, so I will.

I really didn't want to leave that New Orleans post lingering there, kind of just happened. Made it so every time someone checked here, they probably got depressed. :) So what's new? My wifey and I saw Green Day at SBC Park on Saturday. I can honestly say it was the best concert i've ever been to. A bold claim, to be sure, especially since I like Green Day, but they're not my favorite band or anything. But they were just on. Really really on. From the intro, through every song right down to the huge fireworks display at the end, pure entertaining awesomeness. And in a venue that large, for me to feel that way about it, is truly something. They are just fun. They did this long long solo, breakdown session, and then segued into..."you know you make me wanna shout, put your hands up and shout!" ...kinda silly sounding, but so awesome if you were there.

We just watched The Office ( American version ) and LOST.

My brother gets so frustrated by the "no answers" nature of LOST, but i think its quality and entertaining, and it reminds me of an awesome classic show one of my best friends' dad intoduced me to called "The Prisoner". If you've never seen "The Prisoner", maybe LOST wouldn't be as cool.

If you've never seen The Office, then your life is slightly less funny. It is laugh out loud while you're alone Scrubs-level funny. Especially if you work in an office of any kind.

Anyways, I was going to write about the dorky reason I've updated less ( apart from being insanely busy and tired from my increased responsibilities at work ), but maybe i'll save that for a future post where i can really go into why I am King Warrior Lord of all Geeks.

Until then...

"Laissez Le Bon Temps Roulet"

Sat, 03 Sep 2005 19:09:29 GMT

That's one of the mottos of my home town, New Orleans, Louisiana. It means "Let the good times roll." Somehow that now just seems tragically depressing in light of whats happened and happening there. I've been putting off writing about this, and hoping I could just avoid it and write something funny but I can't.

For those that somehow have no contact with the outside world ( and I've run across a sad amount of these people who just don't know it even happened ) a category five hurricane named Katrina slammed into the Gulf Coast. It hit the Biloxi Mississippi area directly ( I went to convention there every summer as a child ) but the storm was strong enough that it broke several levees in New Orleans and 80% of the city is now flooded, in places up to 15- 20 feet underwater. Many evacuated the state altogether, but a large number of people ( upwards of 100,000 ) stayed, got trapped in the disgusting lake that is now the city and are now refugees. The city is in chaos, there are roving gangs of men armed with guns raping, killing and looting the city, even shooting at military helicopters trying to provide aid. Initial estimates are that the entire city will remain flooded and therefore abandoned for upwards of three months, and that there are thousands dead, with more dying every day.

Anderson Cooper summed up the scene on CNN : " There are corpses lying out in the streets being eaten by rats."

I believe all of my family and friends got out alive, but to what kind of life? Their houses are underwater. The restaurant my aunt owns is ruined and underwater. They're living in hotels, with money quickly running out if it hasn't run out already, and nowhere to get more money. How can you put your life completely on hold for at least three months and still provide shelter and food for your family? Even if you go back, who else will return? Will there be anyone else left to even come to a restauarant?

I feel slightly guilty that I'm fortunate enough to not live there anymore. My dad, pretty much on a whim decided to move us to California when I was twelve, even though he'd lived there his whole life and our whole family lived there. It could be my current house underwater, instead of my old one. It could be my kids' elemenatary school underwater, instead of the one I attended as a child. I could be me sitting in front of the Superdome, with my wife and kids, in a pool of garbage, feces, urine, and corpses, hoping I don't get shot by the looters, or my wife raped, before the buses pick us up to dislocate us to Houston where we get to live concentration camp style in the Astrodome for who knows how long?

The city will never be the same. I never got to show my wife or kids where I grew up. My youth is now chest deep in indescribable filth and movie style post apocalyptic chaos and violence.

The last time I was there, on a vacation with my brother and some friends, one of my fondest memories was the day of the French Quarter festival.The entire French Quarter that day was one big party, food, drinks, we'd walk down one street and watch a magician , and then down another to stop and watch some street musicians. Then a man driving a horse and buggy would stop also, and the driver would start singing along to the music. At night we were standing right out on the Mississippi River at the Riverwalk. We had just eaten beignets and coffee from Cafe Du Monde, and looked out at the brightly lit riverboats cruising the river. One passed right by us, festive music playing loudly, people dancing, and drinking and waving without a care in the world.

I'm sure the downtown will return to a semblance of its former self, but it will just never be the same. I hope it will be close though.

A Binocular Case!?!?...That's Pooptastic!

Fri, 19 Aug 2005 20:18:16 GMT

I've once before detailed my undying burning hatred for the filthy hellspawn creatures that many refer to as raccoons. I shall briefly recount another of the tales that led me on my quest of loathing. ( Please see the Blog post of 08/25/04 if you haven't already for some context on this subject. In other news, I will now be spelling "raccoon" correctly )

This goes back many years to not only when I was younger, but to a time when the two main characters in this story, my brother ( who sometimes goes by Underoni ) and my friend and his, ( who sometimes goes by Modelo ) were barely even teenagers yet, nay they were at that beautiful age a young man goes through when his hormones are raging and his mischief has peaked, when his voice starts to change and his neck grows hair in weird places, the stretch of time known as "preteen".

They both would find little adventures for themselves, all of which were worthwhile endeavors to be sure, such as lugging large objects to the ocean and throwing them in, throwing dirt clods at cars, ( their favorite was convertibles ), collecting pictures of scantily clad women, and in this instance, building tree houses and forts.

They climbed up a tree in Modelo's back yard, and carried wood up, and proceeded to assemble some planks together to sit on and they called this their treehouse. They brought up with them some binoculars, ( which may convey a hidden motive for the treehouse altogether ) and would while the hours away, sitting up in the tree, probably spying on unsuspecting housewives.

Well, one day they left their binocular case up in the tree house. I can't be sure what exactly transpired the night after this, I can only make an educated guess from the evidence left behind.( Much like the authors of the book the Perfect Storm ) I believe you'll be able to guess what evidence was found by the end of the story. I believe the scene payed out in the following manner:

Begin Scene. Outdoors, Evening, Modelo's backyard. Two filthy raccoons, one named Rocky and the other Lucifer, enter at stage right and proceed up Modelo's tree.

Rocky Raccoon: Boy oh boy, Lucifer, How are we ever going to top last night? I enjoyed the $#!% out of turning over garbage cans and spreading disease last night.

Lucifer Raccoon: You think that was something? One time me and Beelzebub from over on David Avenue tortured and ate all the pets of this one family, and left just the eyeballs and glands and @*&#. They freaked right the %&@# out. And then...waitaminnit what is this?

Rocky Raccoon: Dude where's your stash?

Lucifer Raccoon: Its right here man. But some %#@ put some little boards over it. I can....$&@# !!! I can't get into my stash. All my porn, heroin and weapons are in there! What the %#@ !

Rocky Raccoon: Hey Lucifer, what's this man?

Lucifer Raccoon: Hmm. I don't know. Whoever nailed boards over my stash must've left it up here. Whatever it is, it can't get me back into my stash.

Rocky Raccoon: True.... but we could like, bite a hole in the side, and then poop inside this thing something fierce, so when they come back, it'll be filled with our $#!@.

Lucifer Raccoon: Rocky....that's the best #*&% idea you've ever had. Let's get to it !!!

End Scene.

The Guardian

Mon, 15 Aug 2005 03:43:51 GMT

Warning: There's not a ton of comedy in today's post. Tread softly. So I went camping this weekend, and it was kind of a so-so camping trip. The company was good, but the place and weather were both decidedly "Meh. "
I got some good reading done. I've been reading John Steinbeck's "East of Eden", and so far I am of the opinion that it's one of the three most well written books I've ever read. The other two books I place on this list ( Herman Melville's "Moby-Dick" and Harper Lee's "To Kill A Mockingbird" make my "Big Three" kind of generic and obvious, but what can I say? You've heard of them because they're that good. They deserve all the famousness and recognition because the authors that wrote them were at the top of everyone's game when they wrote them. The subject matter of East of Eden is definitely not pleasant, or light reading. But it's exceedingly well written.

Whenever I stumble upon excellence in any media such as books, music, film, art, reality televsion ( If you haven't already, you must see Hogan Knows Best ) it inspires me to create something of my own. If anyone's seen the movie High Fidelity, its like when John Cusack's girlfriend convinces him to stop being a "Professional Appreciater" of music, and do something of his own for once.

I've had a story I've been kicking around for almost ten years in my brain now. It started as an idea, and evolved into a plot, and then characters emerged, I told others about it, but I never put it down on paper. The story is kind of an amalgam of all the geeky things I like in other books, comics, movies, blended together but with my own take on it all. I know its a good idea,because everyone responds to it with enthusiasm, and because my brother once tried to pass it off as his own idea, his excuse being that he thought I'd never do anything with it. Since he showed his interest we've been collaborating and talking about it, off and on, here and there, and maybe we''ll do something on it together, or maybe I'll use him as a critic and to bounce ideas off of. He's good at being a critic.

John Steinbeck had a great passage in East of Eden where he says more and more you don't get to see the individual's work or imagination anymore, nothing intact out of one man's mind, because now its all filtered and watered down through commitees and collaborations, with the end result of never having anything true or pure. That makes me kind of want to write it myself, but then again the Wachowski brothers wrote and made "The Matrix".

I bought a composition notebook this weekend much like the one the crazy killer used in "Seven". I wanted to just actually get something down on paper. Every other time I've tried to write something of my story down, it always winds up in a feeble paragraph of me trying to be funny, instead of something that actually begins a story. Its not necessarily a funny story, its more epic, suspense and intrigue than it is comedy, and I can't have it start like the Naked Gun or some other parody. I would give a synopsis, or describe my "pitch" but the story isn't what it at first seems, and I don't want to ruin the whole surprise, or "gimmick" of my take on this kind of tale. Long story short, just to get this out there for posterity's sake, here's the first paragraph ( for now, I'm sure it will change ) of "The Guardian":

" The Guardian was dead. Before this moment, none would have thought it possible, but under the circumstances there could be no doubt. Many hundreds, if not thousands, had eyewitnessed the brutal demise of their city's protector, and millions more sat dumbfounded while watching at home on their televisions. Because of who the Guardian was, irregardless of the manner in which he'd have died, the reaction from the world's populace was bound to be one of sorrow, anguish and horror. People take note at the passing of any hero, infinitely more so when the hero in question is a being with genuine super powers beyond that of mere mortals, sworn to protect the populace of his city, and when possible, the world. That being said, no matter who you are, many are bound to notice someone's murder, especially if you're killed in the middle of one of the world's biggest cities with no less than eight television news helicopters circling above the event. Add to all these circumstances the fact that the murderer was a ten story tall mechanical monstrosity called "Deathbot", and the reaction would be quite extreme, as it was now. "

Dropping In On The Deuce

Fri, 12 Aug 2005 05:03:40 GMT

Yoda: Hmm. That face you make. Look I so old to young eyes?

Luke: No... of course not.

Yoda: I do... yes, I do! Sick have I become. Old and weak.When nine hundred years old you reach, look as good you will not. Hmm?

Yoda: Soon will I rest. Yes, forever sleep. Earned it, I have.

I felt like Yoda last night. Sick I had become. Old and weak. I had a tuberculosis Doc Holiday hacking cough. I had worked what felt like nine hundred years toiling to make life better for the members of our local credit union. I headed off to bed in hopes of a nice restful feels-like-forever sleep. Earned it I had. Little did I know I'd feel much older by the time I actually did sleep.

I went to bed and my wife had on MTV2. Thats the MTV station that actually plays music videos and has a strange two headed dog as its logo. Like Cerberus with one head missing. I dont watch alot of TV. And I don't say that in the way alot of people say it, like to sound better than you: "I don't watch TV that much, but its obvious you do you fat couch potato tub of lard!" I am a fat couch potato tub of lard, and I actually wish I watched more TV. I just don't have the time to keep up with it. I watch the news, I watch the History Channel, I watch some shows here and there ( I love Survivor, Scrubs, Lost, to name a few but i only catch them because I DVR/Tivo them ). I watch my DVDs. But the regular every week show watching is just not in the routine. And some things, like for instance keeping up with the new music videos, just don't happen.

So last night as I crawled into bed and she had these on, I looked at them, and observed, and felt really disconnected, ...old. Maybe old isn't the right description. I don't even know why, but watching MTV2 makes me feel like I'm in a different country. When I've visited different countries, it's like..."Oh...so there's like, lots of other people out here doing their thing...and it has nothing to do with me...and I feel a slight surprise that the world is this big and these people exist and theyre going about their lives....and I feel really tiny." That's a really close-minded American uncultured reaction probably, but deep down somewhere its the way I feel in other countries, and the way I felt watching MTV2.

I'm trying to pinpoint why I felt this way, because some of the videos were bands and songs i'd heard, like NIN's "Only" video. That's a cool video. It's all like of Trent Reznor's face in one of those things made of non-sharp nails you put your hands in. What's that thing called? Another of the videos was by the band Gorillaz called "Feel Good." Cool animated video, but I feel out of the loop on that band. What's with them? That animated monkey kid tribe is in every video. Is that the band? Why don't I know!? There were more videos by weird bands with weird people doing weird things, and the commercials were weird too. Especially this Fanta commercial. A bunch of wildly colored chicks dancing and prancing around singing "Wanta Fanta?" This is probably the moment where I really felt like I was watching another country's television station. Who drinks Fanta? Like, I really want to know. Someone, somewhere, in some country must, because some executive paid these chicks to dress up in those outifts and dance around asking if I wanta Fanta. The fact that I didn't know there were people who drank Fanta made me feel uncultured, uninformed, disconnected, and old.

Maybe I am old and disconnected. Maybe that is on regular MTV also. Maybe its on every channel. Maybe the fact that I'm doped up on double overdoses of Robitussin is what led to this rambling essay. Maybe I should just go to forever sleep and dream of wildly colored Yoda chicks and monkey kid tribes in Fantaland!

Urination Station

Thu, 11 Aug 2005 04:56:31 GMT

I've lost 17 pounds in the last two weeks. That's a friggin' bowling ball that I don't have to lug around on every step. I haven't been on any gimmicky diet, or some kind of hardcore Buddhist monk Tibetan fast. I've just been eating healthy, natural foods, drinking alot of water, and walking for half an hour first thing every day.

I actually don't mind much being a bigger guy. I do want to live longer and have better health, but the real reason I'm doing it is to give myself more discipline. By waking up earlier and making myself do something strenuous right away, first thing in the A.M. at the buttcrack of dawn that i don't allow myself to put off, it sets the tone for the rest of the day to not be lazy, and to not procrastinate anything. I have more energy, I work harder and more productively during the day as a result.

Now let me tell you how weight comes off. Not how to get it off, but how it comes off. Through pee. Through lots and lots of pee. More specifically, 17 pounds of net pee loss over the last two weeks. I've peed a bowling ball. And let me tell you, that spells refreshment!

I actually have much to say about discipline and choices and routines and life changes and other serious subjects, like pee-pee, but i think I'll pace myself and space it out over a few nights. For now, here's to the health benefits of frequent waste disposal!

Mind Probe

Wed, 10 Aug 2005 01:47:52 GMT

I've not been to this corner of the internet in many a long moon. Its filled with cobwebs and dusty old books and smells strongly of old people. The last time I visited, I told a boldfaced lie at the end of my very last post.

Since that last visit to this quaint little page, I've been been promoted at my job, had a full on STAR WARS costume party, i found out my dad had cancer, bought a real life lightsaber, surgeons cut the cancer out of my dad's body, and I saw the last ever STAR WARS movie. ( do you like how three of the "big" events listed out of six had to do with a space fantasy movie? Such is me. ) I also briefly had a much shorter, no-effort-put-into-it, slightly flashier blog at another website which I got bored of after 3 postings. In other words, a small lifetime has transpired.* What that means is an entire universe of my small every day minutiae and boring non-events has gone undocumented by yours truly.

I'm sending this post out into the ether of the dark reaches of long lost internetdom to see if it falls on any unsuspecting eyes. If you chance upon it, please leave feedback. Drop a line, say hello, tell me off, whatever suits your fancy. Even if not, I think I'll drop in now and then just to soak up that old people webpage smell and catalogue my most private and secret thoughts on a very public and visible place, Doogie Howser style.

P.s. - In case you're wondering why the first letter of each paragraph is so big, its because I wanted to experiment with feeling really important while I write, like i was writing scripture.

* - Asterisks are awesome. They're like little reading wormholes from the sentence you were reading to the bottom of the page. Anyways, i put an asterisk in that particular spot because that sentence reminded me of one of my all time favorite Star Trek : TNG episodes, "The Inner Light." You'll remember it if you click that link. What an awesome episode. ( If you're acting yet again like you don't know what "TNG" is, please see my very first blog post from August 21st of last year. You nerd! )

Pancreatic Thought Sludge

Thu, 25 Nov 2004 01:36:23 GMT

Today is so slow at work. Truly noone is calling, noone coming in, they're all at the mall. I was reading this cool business book which held my attention, but now I'm done with that. I am such an information junkie. When I don't have anything to read, my brain goes kind of crazy. My imagination begins to take off and starts to think of all the cool ideas I've had for books or businesses or movies or inventions, or whatever.
Which makes me start to think that reading may actually be bad for me. Being able to fill my brain with endless information may actually be blocking my ability for creative thought. Reading alot does keep me well informed, and teaches me constantly, and education allows me to hone my humor instrument, but is it possible that reading so much stifles the organ of my imagination? Such are the deep thoughts that enter your brain when you've got nothing else to do.
On that note, I recently emailed a little "geek" survey, and while my mind was wandering writing it, i thought of something I hadn't thought of in years. It was that show where the guy wore a body suit where you could like see his organs and parts and insides, and he used to sing and dance and it was all very disturbing, but at the same time fascinating. The guy was kinda Richard Simmons-ish, but not too much, more like his cousin. Richard Simmon's cousin if he'd been turned inside out in a freak medical accident, and all his organs were ironed to be flat on the outside of his body. You couldnt help but look at that guy, and you felt a little voyeuristic ( is that a word? ) while he'd be talking or singing, but you were staring at his pancreas. I really want to know what that show was, but I dont want to do a Google search on "singing inside see-thru parts guy." I dont think i could handle the results. Does anyone else remember that, or know what it was? Until next time....

P.S. - I'll be updating more often I promise.

A Series of Moderately Interesting Events

Wed, 27 Oct 2004 23:33:46 GMT

I havent updated in a longo time ( as JarJar would say ) and I sincerely doubt whether anyone at all is going to read this anymore, but I shall plod on, and write for my own enjoyment.

In the near month since I've written, a plethora of things have transpired. "Plethora" a Spanish word here meaning a great many things, and used to signify that some of these things did indeed transpire in the Spanish speaking country of Mexico. ( please read as "Meh - Hee - Coh" ... you'll be glad you did ) "Transpire" a word meaning happened , except I used it to feel like I am smarter than the average bear, just like Yogi.

If you noticed that the writing style of that last paragraph was a bit odd, and slightly more explanatory than usual, it is because I've spent the better part of this last week reading Lemony Snicket's ( a.k.a Daniel Handler's ) " A Series Of Unfortunate Events ". Its written with this style throughout to humorous effect, and I find myself now thinking in the word pattern in which it is written. I originally bought the first book ( there are eleven ) with the intention of reading them to my girls, and as any good father would, I decided to read it first to make sure the content was suitable for their ages. It turned out to be fairly macabre. "Macabre" a word which is here used to convey more Edgar Allan Poe than Dr. Seuss. Not horribly so, but enough that they should wait more than a few more years so as to not get nightmares. But I recommend them to adults that are looking for a darkly comedic kids book.

Anyways, yes we went to Mexico. ( Did you remember to pronounce it as Meh-Hee-Coh? ) It was a blast. We went with a fun group of friends and family, and we rode on jet skis, and I parasailed, which nearly made me soil my trunks. "Soil my trunks" a phrase used here to signify nearly urinating in my swim shorts out of fear for my life, as opposed to staining a large suitcase or perhaps an elephant's proboscis.

Sadly Christopher Reeve ( Superman ) died while we were in ( say it right ) Mexico. He made me believe a man can fly. A moment of silence...

Anyways, more happened, but to write more would be rambling, a word here used to convey going on and on about useless things until you were bored, used in a bit of an ironic way, as you say to yourself: "The entire Blog is that way you silly old fool."

TTFN

Thats How I Smurf It Baby

Wed, 29 Sep 2004 05:38:45 GMT

I know I mentioned Scrubs last time also, and everyone already responded with how they agreed with the superiority of comedy that is that show, but tonite the show was in rare form, I hope you saw it. I laughed out loud numerous times. It was just on tonite. Here are some quotes that made me chortle, several caused a guffaw even. Thats right a guffaw. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

(Turk jumps in bed, waking up Carla) Carla: "Turk!" Turk: "Oh I'm sorry baby, but now that you're up do you think we could..." Carla: "Of course not!" Turk: "Snooorrrre"

Turk: "Papa Smurf has three keys to leadership...Smurfaration, Smurfaration, and Smurf" J.D. " Ah, so Preparation, Inspiration and Fear."

Molly ( Heather Graham) : "Yep, those are my boobs." ( You had to see it. It was funny )

J.D. :" That how I Smurf It baby."

J.D.: "Now...everyone slap themselves in the faces.....(they do).....Awesome."

I know trying to recapture comedy out of context is impossible but I just thought I'd share. Speaking of awesome comedy, I found this cool news today.

Now go to sleep little ones, but before you do, play the song below as loud as you can. I defy you not to sing along . It impossible. And then you'll go to sleep, and dream of yourself swimming in the clouds with the dolphins and Rainbow Brite.

Thats how I smurf it baby.

"Not dead...Not yet." - Obi Wan Kenobi

Mon, 20 Sep 2004 20:12:50 GMT

Man i love that line. Such a chilly line of foreshadowing on Obi-Wan's part as he's gonna be chopped down by Vader in just about 45 minutes, and become more powerful than we could possibly imagine.

But its also true of me. The rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.
I am someone though, ( and those who know me best know this all too well ) who gets very excited about things to an almost ridiculous level of obsession, ( i definitely have traces of...nay, gallons of obsessive compulsive behavior ) and then I quickly burn out on things. I get obsessed with things, read and buy everything there is under the sun having to do with the subject, then stuff it away in a closet two weeks later.

Yesterday two of my friends insisted my new nickname was indeed "Burnout" and my wife agreed this name is apt when it comes to hobbies and pasttimes. I have to admit my attention span is indeed short, in fact I'm already bored of this subject. I burn out on most video games by the time the company logo and load screens are done. And so I burned out on the blog. I needed to take a break, but i'll never fully leave it, I'll just hibernate away from it now and then.

There are only a few things that are immune to this burnout treatment and that I never get sick of. I love my family, my wife, and my kids, and never get tired of them. I love my religion, and the all encompassing truth and logic that comes with it. This of course should go without saying, but if I didnt say that, people would comment on how I'm falling away and don't put emphasis on the important things, and how I'm trying to get them to vote for Darth Nader ( FameousAmon, aka Dilnarg, aka Beebl3s, aka Epid3micofHate will think he came up with that name, but someone else did ).Sheesh. I dont even like Nader.Anyways, back to topic: And then there are the fun little petty things I love that somehow slip through this "burnout" feature of my personality. Like football. I love football. I love Brett Favre, and the Green Bay Packers ( even when they lose AT HOME TO THE BEARS like yesterday argh!!! ) and I also love the New Orleans Saints, as they are my home team ( especially when they beat the 49ers!! like yesterday ).But football is only on one, maybe two days a week, and then takes a break for 7 months after the Superbowl so its very structure kinda helps me with my problem. I also love comic books and movies, and never really get tired of either. But there is one thing that for some reason i can constantly delve headlong into with all the burning intensity of my usual "burnout" phases, yet it holds up to the heat, and never burns away. And that is the televison show Mama's Family. Just kidding (shudder...that shows depressing) its actually (big surprise!) STAR WARS.
I don't think I'll ever get sick of it. I love every single ounce of STAR WARS. Yes, even the prequels. To me, there are no "prequels", simply one long saga that is STAR WARS.
And it comes out on DVD tomorrow ( another unburnable pasttime is collecting these little digital versatile discs ),and when they come out tomorrow, they'll be looking better than ever with amazing picture and sound and even more Lucas-improved fx fixes, and funky stuff taken out. Like so
So buy it!

P.S. - Courtesy of the baron of weaselmedia, you can now access this blog via www.scoobydooku.info . Nifty.

P.P.S. - On the Emmys last nite ( I really only saw this part ), they were presenting the award for best comedy writing on a series, and while reading the names of each writer, they would show a little pretaped skit the writers had prepared about them and their writing process, each only about 20 seconds long at most. Well, they got to the writers for "Scrubs", a hilarious show you should be watching, and it had nothing to do with the show, and had no dialogue, it was just these two portly geeky bespectacled guys (the writers of scrubs...its no coincidence that portly geeky bespectacled guys are funny) and theyre both riding on one little moped, one driving, the other perched on the seat behind him. The one in back is writing in a notebook ( supposedly show ideas for scrubs ). In the background, the song below is blaring, and at its emotional crescendo, the "behind" guy shows what he just wrote to "moped driver" and they both throw their heads back in uproarious laughter as the song plays on. They ddnt win, the writer of "Arrested Developement" did, but my wife and I laughed out loud. Download that song now!

Blogger's Block + Ball Lightning = ?

Thu, 09 Sep 2004 00:19:23 GMT

So i haven't updated this Blog in a few days, and let me tell you it felt great. I burned myself out on this silly thing. I had a touch of "Blogger's Block".

But now that we're in September, here are 10 silly things ( but not the "top" ten things ) I learned this summer:

Don't brag about winning a game on a public website, because you'll be publicly humiliated the next time you play.
My brother-in-law doesn't like the word "Boomshackalacka used out of context". He likes it "in rasta songs only".These are his words.
Making mention of any political figures on a blog will make people that like to stir things up assume you're trying to endorse politics or some political view, even though you try and make it obvious you're only mentioning them for entertainment value. I endorse no candidates or political views. None of these silly little men have the answers. That doesn't change the fact that I find Arnold speaking or anything called a "Bling-Off" amusing.
When Spider-Man ( movie version ) gets really really stressed out, his web shooters become impotent.
My toe hurts.
I find thecarbuncle's blog much funnier than my own.
Everyone has an Evil Raccoon story. I know that I myself have at least three more epic encounters to retell, but I shall save them for a later date.
No matter who you are, or where you are, someone you encountered today was a STAR WARS geek. I recently wore my uber-cool Revenge of the Sith shirt on a day about the town and received no less than 4 comments from complete strangers in all different walks of life on how much they liked my shirt. If Lucas used his powers for evil, we'd all be in trouble. Or maybe he already has!
I'm infinitely dumber than i thought. For instance, I'm transcribing my own secret thoughts in a public forum for all the world to see, including no good do-badders who might try and use what they find here against me ( If you are a no good do-badder, please go find another website, or read thecarbuncle's blog ).Two more examples of my dumbness: I never realized that what I thought was called a "pikkinese" dog, is in fact a "Peking"-ese dog, as in "from Peking China". This blew my mind. Also, that I have been spelling the word "similar" wrong my entire life. Seriously.
I learned today that more people die by suicide worldwide every year than by war or murder combined. This implies that we're more likely to be killed by ourselves than by any other person/conflict. And to think that I've been afraid of getting killed by ball lightning* my entire life. I know that sounds like a downer, but really it should tell us we're more in control of what happens to us than we think, and the state of this world is indeed deteriorating and to a point where the only One who can make a difference,and that does have the answers, and can turn Raccoons and do-badders and kill selfers and even Boomshackalacka-ing rastafarians away from evil will step in. And thats a good thing, to say the least.

*- This link seems much more like something you'd see on thecarbuncle's blog. That's three times I've mentioned him. I think I have a crush on him!

Down with the Sickness

Sun, 05 Sep 2004 06:50:23 GMT

This'll be the most boring Blog entry ever. I'm upset because I'm sick. And its a long weekend where i don't work on Monday. And I was supposed to take my wife away for the weekend because we don't have the kids for the weekend. But of course, I'm sick, so I can't take her away. I can't do much of anything. So I decide to download "Service Pack 2" for Windows xp, which in turn makes my computer sick. Argh. Only thing that happened that was good is I beat my brother, mano e mano in a card-playing matchup that started with 8 people and ended with us two. I'm harder to read I guess when I'm sick. That's three nites of card-playing in a row I've won now. I'm like a card playing robot. Its hard to beat my brother at much of anything, as he's a game playing robot. I guess another good thing that happened is thecarbuncle has found himself a ...little philly, believe it or not, but I'm sure he'll write about it on his Blog. Have a great sick nite.

"The Richest Duck In The World!"

Fri, 03 Sep 2004 04:51:54 GMT

Forget all this political convention ballyhoo, tonite I got to see the main event in all of this madness, the sacred event that comes in this country but once every four years, VH1's Bush vs. Kerry Bling-Off.

If you don't know what "Bling" is, here's a link about the educated people who helped make the term so accepted. It was quite a tight race, as it turns out that George W. Bush and John Kerry both have a considerable amount of "Bling". Bushy of course had a considerable amount of Bling from being born a Bush, and owning the Texas Rangers for awhile, and from, well, being President currently. Kerry's wealth they say was mostly from his wife, who is reportedly worth between 1.5 to 3 billion dollars. But I'm convinced alot of that wealth is from all the change he steals from people's pockets as he eats their brains. Seriously, look at his sister and tell me they're not a family of brain eating zombies. Anyways, the whole thing reminded me of when Scrooge and Glomgold had to weigh their money to see who was the "richest duck in the world!" so that the winner would get that cool "light fruit" thingy.

But in the end, Bushy won in the contest of out blinging each other. Which begs the question....

Why did noone count the bling of Nader?

A Bouquet Of Newly Sharpened Pencils

Thu, 02 Sep 2004 06:41:03 GMT

I love September. I said that the other day, but it wasn't yet September proper, and i wound up being cursed for thinking it was. But now it is. Not yet "Fall" officially, but it has that feeling just with it being September 1st. I woke up, and I could feel it. The airs a little crisper, a little fresher, and so Septembery. My wife woke up right before me, and turned on the song I'm listening to now. Being married to exactly the right person rules. Our oldest is back in school, just starting second grade. Joe Fox ( Tom Hanks ) from You've Got Mail put my feelings about this time of year best:

Joe Fox : "Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms."

And he speaks for me, but replace New York with whatever area you're in, cause I'm sure its nice and beautiful and Septembery ( it better be ) there this time of year. And this not knowing who or what or when you're reading this kind of does have its charms. So whoever you are, wherever you are, go buy yourself a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils, and enjoy September. And buy STAR WARS on dvd September 21st. :)

P.S. - I challange anyone who says You've Got Mail is a girly dumb movie to a duel of honor. Same goes for trying to besmirch Neil Diamond's name.

P.P.S. - I almost forget to mention I got my completely awesome Episode III : Revenge Of The Sith t-shirt in the mail today! /drool /faint .Ahhh. Geek heaven. The first piece of Episode 3 merchandise I own. Only 259...almost 258 days away.

ScoobyDooku : Behind the Screen Name

Wed, 01 Sep 2004 03:45:23 GMT

Many would assume upon seeing my screen name that I'm some kind of "Scooby Doo" fanatic. They would be wrong. I appreciate the cartoon for what it was, but I just never watched it that much. The only time Scoob, Shag, and the gang ever truly piqued my curiosity or interest is when Batman and Robin or the Harlem Globetrotters would guest star.

The real story behind my screen name is so geeky, so complex, so made up and indeed stupid, that if you're female you may want to read this article instead. If you're anything other than a Level 59 STAR WARS geek, i recommend you watch those Super Mario videos again and come back tomorrow. Still hear? Then sit back, relax, and enjoy the inspiring, comical, semi-tragic tale of:

Scoobadiah Grandoobius Dooku : Unwanted brother, yet one smooth mamma jamma.

In the STAR WARS saga, only a select few characters are chosen to be in the elite "cape-wearing crowd", Darth Vader being the ultimate example. The two most well known other members of this group are Count Dooku, and Lando Calrissian. We know of these two characters' connection to the main man, Vader, one being his personal arm-chopper-offer, the other his estranged daughter's boyfriend's ship-stealee. But what are these two characters' mysterious connection to each other?

The reason so little is known about Count Dooku's ( real name: Scrappatarius Ignaceous Dooku ) mysterious past is because he wants noone to stumble upon the literally "dark" secret of his unwanted afro'ed black half brother, Scoobadiah Grandoobius Dooku. The count came from the noblest house of the planet Serenno, and he saw his brother as a messy inkspot upon their lineage, public proof of his mother's infidelities, even though she tried to pass him off as the Count's full-blooded brother, a deception which Pa Dooku for some reason believed.

Ma and Pa Dooku tried constantly to teach young Scrappy Dooku ( the Count's nickname as a youth, given to him on account of his full white beard at the age of seven ) to coexist with his brother ( nicknamed by his schoomates Scooby-dooby Dooku, on account of his choice in illegal pasttimes ). The results of their efforts were less than hoped for, evidenced by an episode on the Serenno schoolyard when some bully Gamorreans were trying to steal Scooby's blue-milk money. Scooby called to Scrappy for help, and Scrappy's longwinded reply: "Ohnomybrotherthisisamistakeaterriblemistaketheyvegonetoofarthisismadnessitmaybedifficulttosecureyourrelease", did nothing to sway their bloodlust, so he quickly turned a blind eye as they attempted to smash him into who knows what.

As they aged into young adults, things got worse. Scooby once tried to show Scrappy a good time while he was on break from Jedi training, by bringing him to the pleasure planet of Phatooine. They unwittingly entered the "Mantina", a seedy, alternative lifestyle bar owned and controlled by Hommo the Hutt and his entourage. A confrontation arose with Weedo, a Rodian who had chewed one too many deathsticks without rethinking his life, and a firefight ensued. The Dookus escaped with their lives, but not before Scrappy's Jedi lightsaber was terribly bent out of shape. Scrappy blamed Scooby for the fight, ( even though later video showed that Weedo shot first ), and refused to speak to Scooby ever again.

After this incident, Scrappy succeeded in convincing his parents to officially disown young Scooby, and Scooby complied with their wishes. He changed his name to Grando Calrizzle, from a variation of his given middle name and from a recollection of what Ma Dooku believed to be the last name of his true father, though she couldnt be sure.

Grando dedicated his life to becoming the ultimate man of liesure ( imagine the "Dude" mixed with the "Ladies Man" of the STAR WARS universe), and in many way he succeeded. Women wanted to be with him, and men wanted to be him. He wound up with 29 wives and 126 children ( Lando was son #9 , right between Sando, a strange aqua monster child, and Brando, a big fat child who pursued the performing arts ). Women were so intoxicated by his ferocious love, that they sometimes forgot not only the experience, but his very existence altogether. In the words of one unfortunate conquest regarding where her son had come from: " There was no father. I bore him , I gave birth, I can't explain what happened." He eventually settled on the planet of Phatooine, where he and his brother had parted ways. He became a shipbuilding baron, and so had traded his birthright of being a count for his earned title of baron. He changed his last name to Calrissian, after a clerical error involving the taxation of trade routes to outying star systems. He unfortunately died in a bizarre smelting accident.

But his legend lives on. The belief that Scrappy was the only Dooku in the family with force-sensitive qualities is now questioned as galaxy-wide rumors indicate that he retained his identity after death, similar to the force-apparition identities of Jedis Yoda, Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. It is believed he used this ability to help out his large brood of children all across the galaxy, which explains the impossibly heroic roles played by Lando and Wedge Antilles ( son #27 ..don't tell Captain Antilles ) in the destruction of the second Death Star. One of these "force guardian" stories is retold in the Coruscant Channel Twelve TV movie " Angels in the Outfield at the Battle of Tanaab."

And so now you know...

And you also know that Arnold's speech ruled all.... not that we're into politics :)

Sunday segues into Monday

Mon, 30 Aug 2004 07:21:22 GMT

I'm ever so slightly bummed this evening for a number of reasons. A very close friend is moving away. Tomorrow is Monday morning. My wrist hurts. Its still a very long 262 days til Episode 3. And having the MTV Video Music Awards playing in the background depressed me to the state of modern music and modern celebrities.

But you gotta focus on the positives. I don't mean the "big" positives like a beautiful wife, or great kids, fun friends, cause I never forget about those. I mean the small positives, like coffee in the morning, like the Original Trilogy on dvd soon, like the fact that thank goodness MTV is not actually the purveyor of true music in any way shape or form, so no matter how much it stinks, that doesnt mean there's not good music somewhere, and like awesome long weekend next weekend. Woot!

Urban Vanilla Domes

Sun, 29 Aug 2004 05:41:24 GMT

This entry will go beyond regular geeky into 80's video game geeky. I know, I know, you're already drooling. Some have complained that my entries are too long. I figure a story is not worth telling if its not told well.

Tonite , funnily enough, the three Blogging Amigos, myself, Underoni and thecarbuncle all wound up at the same party. We thought it would be a normal party, but it wound up being more....shall we say, urban, than our normal parties. There was even, i kid you not, a "freestyle rapping room". So we did what any caucasian geeks would, we snuck into the back room to download geeky video game things.

We of course started our downloading with thecarbuncle's already famous download of Mario Piano Playing Madness .It truly is breathtaking, and one of the urbanite partygoers wandered in upon hearing these almost subconciously familiar childhood video game sounds amidst the overwhelming urban beats of the rest of the house. There's nothing more refreshing than learning that someone shares geeky attributes with you. What follows are some quotes from his commentary, ( not ours ) while listening to this kid play piano.

"Oh no! He's even playing Vanilla Domes !"

"Not only does this fool play the Forest of Illusion music, he plays it again in the fast version when your time is running out!"

Hehe.My brother and I agreed the Vanilla Domes quote was the best thing we've heard all week.In case you've forgotten Mario Bros. 3 was one of the most hyped things of our generation's childhood. This Super Mario Bros. 3 commercial I distinctly remember having a profound effect on me when I was a wee lad.

I leave you with yet one more amazing video link before you drift off to Slumberland. Everyone is MEANT to do something. Some would say Michael Jordan was meant to play basketball, or that Lucas was meant to make STAR WARS, I say that Brett Favre was meant to play football for the Green Bay Packers. The hands behind this video were meant to play Super Mario Bros. 3 .

Don't let the early levels fool you, it gets better as it goes on. Fire Mario is just showing off in world 8.

Adieu.

If Chins Could Kill

Sat, 28 Aug 2004 06:27:57 GMT

A couple more things! While at the mall in the heat, i picked up the book "If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor by Bruce Campbell" . Groovy.

Also, i wanted to draw attention to a few more blogs. I know many many people have blogs. I even found out today an alarming number of coworkers have blogs. And I know of other amusing blogs I enjoy often, but tonite i bring your attention to two. My brother, UNDERONI has a blog, as does Mr. Mysterious Conspiracy theorist himself, thecarbuncle. I'll let you guess who he is.

Be sure to check out thecarbuncle's Mario Piano Music though on today's entry. If I could do that, I'd be the bees knees. The asian piano-playing bees knees.

Asian Swelter

Sat, 28 Aug 2004 06:10:04 GMT

So today started like one of those cool September mornings. And I'm thinking to myself, "Self, I love September mornings almost as much as Neil Diamond. They're cool and refreshing, and they are an indication that Brett Favre will soon be back on the playing field".

Problem is, said God : "Tis not yet September... let there be outrageous Heat!..And there came to be a heating and a boiling, a twenty-seventh day of August" ( Not that he goes by our pagan calendar, or that I presume to speak for him....but if I did know his words, they would command a Bold Font !!! )

Its the kind of heat where you get in your car and are literally unable to touch your steering wheel or seatbelt. How is this type of heat even legal ? Amidst this swelter, my brother called and asked if me and mine would like to see that Jet Li movie "Hero". I figured sure, a cool movie theater would be nice. Except for our junky movie theater is not cool at all, and is indeed a sweatshop, fit only for racoons in its current state.

And oh boy, when its hot in there, the only thing that makes it better is when its crowded. And when the movie is long, and drawn out, and overall "Meh".

Its not that the movie was bad, it had cool things about it like the colors, and the story was kinda cool in parts. But it was just alot of like...trees, and drops of rain, and ....calligraphy. Which i can enjoy the poetic aspects of, but when I'm startng to feel so hot that I imagine myself as the guy from the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark ( You know the one , sadly I must make an uber geek confession that i know that character is named "Toht" pre-fondue face), and then i start thinking about how much that movie rules, and then I start thinking...do people in China actually float, like even a little bit ? I've never been there, but every Chinese movie I watch has people floating not a little, but alot. This is who the U.S. is supposedly facing in WWIII ? And the movie had that same slow Chinese song that was in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, "Nyaaaaa Naaa naaa.....Nyaaaaa Naaaaaaaaaaahhhhh.....Nyaaaah Naaaaaaahhhhhhh". That movie was also "Meh." Someone gave it to me, which is why its in my dvd collection, but I'll have to clean that out soon. Best Chinese movies ever: Police Story 1 and 2. No floaties. No leaves or calligraphy. Just Jackie Chan. I'm a simple man.

Feel Free to Disagree in the Comments Section...

"Welcome To The Desert...Of The Real"

Fri, 27 Aug 2004 05:54:41 GMT

It's getting late, and I just wanted to share a quick little story that happened today with one of our little girls who is 4 ( Sadly, this story contains no references to Gremlins, racoons, Poop Palaces, or gaps between dimensions (( wow, a sub-parentheses! ... this is just to correct that it wasn't actually Gannon who was banished to the gap between dimensions, but actually Phantom Gannon. I apologize for this gross error, and to any parties who were damaged by this clerical misstep )) ).

Back to the 4 year old. She was going on and on about this story of something that had happened to her and her mom, wihich she obviously thought was phenomenal, and to be honest, it kinda was, so I incredulously replied with :

Me: "Ah ah. That really happened?"

She: "For real!

Me: ( already amused she responded this way ) " For really real???"

She: ( thoughtful pause )...."Alot of real!"

Hehe. Kids are just great. They're the bees knees.

"Goodnight,...you Princes of Maine, you Kings of New England"

P.S. - If you haven't experienced the song below, download it now! You should be doing this with all the ones I list, but after this one your life will be 12.5% happier.

ScoobyDooku and the Demonic Racoon Hordes of Blogland!

Thu, 26 Aug 2004 03:59:42 GMT

"ScoobyDooku's Personal Log, Stardate 082504. I've never trusted Racoons. And I never will. I can never forgive them, for the death of my friend's rabbit."

I HATE Racoons. I'm sure you gathered that from the opening statement, but just for emphasis let me tell you a third time: I HATE Racoons. This will be a slightly long entry, so i can fully make my case about these walking bags of filth.

They are pure evil. The quote that began this Blog Entry refers to an incident that happened some years back now. At the time, I was young and foolish and didn't yet know the atrocities these spawn of Satan were capable of. I thought of them simply as a neat looking animal. A neighborhood panda, if you will. I thought their markings were neat, their striped tail and black face mask making them a kind of Darth Maul of the animal world. ( Darth Maul is a tattooed Star Wars villain that was quite popular during the time of this story, circa 1999. If you didn't know that, leave immediately. Now, I mean it! *** Darth Maul Info *** ) However, where Darth Maul was cool and evil, I would soon learn that racoons were nothing but pure unadulterated unfiltered unleaded evil. And dirty filthy cannibal mongrels to boot.

My friend had a pet rabbit that he sometimes left outside in a cage. he loved the rabbit, and I'm sure in its own way, it loved him back. ( I imagine their relationship being somewhat similar to Mork and Mindy ) Except, if the rabbit and my friend had a baby, it wouldn't be Jonathan Winters. )

I sometimes wondered why it was kept in a cage even though they had an enclosed backyard. The explanation I made in my mind, was so that the rabbit wouldn't tunnel to Timbuktu, much like Bugs Bunny would when he forgot his left turn at Albuquerque.

I imagine my friend's parents knew what might happen. My friend awoke one morning, and went out to the little rabbit's cage. He's not been the same since that day. ( WARNING! The Following is Graphic. Parental Discretion is Advised )
What he found was a rabbit core. Similar to an apple core, except replace the apple with a rabbit. It was dead, to be sure, but it must have died a truly awful death. Most of its torso and middle section were intact, but all of its extremities had been eaten and clawed away. It had very little head left. The poor guy, best as forensic experts can gather, must have tried to stay in the middle of the cage, where he thought the racoon couldnt get him. He did't count on more than one racoon. They must have triangulated a position where even though he was in the middle, they could scare away and eat big chunks of the poor little guy. Disgusting.

But I kinda put this story in the back of my mind, forgetting about it because in the apartments I lived in at the time, I never had to deal with my friend's rabbit murderer's personally.

Flash forward to now, when I live in a house. The first night I'm in my new home, I hear terrible scraping noises under my house. I wonder what it is , fearing that its my pet alligator that i flushed down the toilet all those years ago, then I remember, I didn't live in this house and I've never had a pet aliigator. I observe these creatures, and I come to find out that they can get into the crawl space under the house, because this one vent is broken, and so have decided to use it as their own personal Poop Palace. I try to rest, but again hear noises. And since we had just moved in, alot of our random junk was stacked in our outside patio.

I made my way to the patio and look outside, and there is a friggin' racoon going through my Star Wars cards box! I had had enough. Though i feared their ferocity, I picked up my broomstick ( too bad it wasn't a boomstick ) turned on the patio light, ( which they hate , much like Gremlins ) and said "Get Out of Here!".

The beast responded with what seemed like a thousand voices. "We are Legion! You are put under oath to not harm us! Send us into the Pigs!" Not allowing them this carnal sadistic pleasure, I screamed "I banish you to the gap between dimensions!" and struck the foul creature with my broomstick. ( The "gap between dimensions" is home to many a dark being, most notably Gannon from the Legend of Zelda game series ).

Thought that carried me through that night, The demon's brethren still lurk in a tree outside my house. I see their leader pacing back and forth in the branches, waiting for the perfect moment for he and his horde to make their next evil move.

To be continued....

Resources on Racoons

________________________________________________________________________

P.S. - On a completely unrelated note, today is the 13th anniversary of me and my family moving to California. I've officially spent more of my life here than in New Orleans, where I was originally from, though its seemed that way for awhile, since the first 10 years of your life you're just like this walking flesh thing.

Why does the caged Mogwai sing?

Wed, 25 Aug 2004 18:53:49 GMT

Tonight me and a couple buddies rediscovered brilliance.
I took a break from my geriatric Olympic watching routine to watch a late night movie. We had many choices, as you can see from my dvd collection

But we didnt want to watch just the same old thing, some modern blockbuster with cgi out the yin yang.( cgi = computer generated imagery, a'la "I,Robot" or anything else that came out in the last ten years ) And then it caught my eye, much the way it caught the eye of inventor/father Randall Peltzer in the movie when he wandered into that mystical underground Chinatown rare antiguities store.

If you haven't guessed what movie i'm talking about yet, ...nay, if you didn't know from the title of this journal entry alone, you need to watch "Gremlins" immediately.

Upon its release , many decried this film as being "demonic". I have to disagree wholeheartedly. While the "mutated" version of the Mogwai do have a penchant for buggery, their devilish behavior is more of a temperament problem ( akin to let's say, a Tasmanian devil or a Racoon...ugh...racoons. But that's a story for another day ) and not a result of anything spritistic.

Even so, I can't categorically conscience free "recommend" this to any and all audiences, as it does have violence that may not be everyone's cup of Chinese tea.
But if you are down with this movie's sickness, bounteous cinematic treasures are to be found within this much neglected film.

Let's start with the incredible musical score, which is often attributed to Danny Elfman, but was actually a work of mad genius fom the late great, Jerry Goldsmith ( Composer Filmography ). He sadly died a little over a month ago, but not without leaving us amazing themes that we can hum to ourselves for an eternity while waiting in doctor's offices or urinating, such as this movie's, or his amazing work on the original Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Even the little song that Gizmo sings is amazing.

Next, revel in the amazing creature design work, not just of the Gremlins themselves, but of the cute little Mogwai. Both great, unforgettable looks, one frightening but funny, the other just so cute even the most cynical movie watchers will want to own one. ( Side note- I hate, HATE, that the stupidly alternative lifestyle Furby's completely ripped off this design )

I love the Eighties movie conventions this movie sticks to, such as how in the Eighties everyone had an inventor relative ( Honey I Shrunk the Kids, Back to the Future ). In this movie, the father is an inventor, inventor of the "Bathroom Buddy" ( yikes! )and the "Kitchen Companion", and its for no real plotworthy reason. Also in the Eighties, everyone is friends with Corey Feldman. Fake, I know, but it holds true in this movie also.
I love that this movie is just insane.

As gleefully directed by Joe Dante ( Director Filmography ), it is at times cute ( anything involving Gizmo ), truly frightening ( the scene where Billy's mother quickly lays waste to three Gremlins using assorted kitchen appliances ) truly demented ( though she deserved it, Mrs. Deagle's flight up the stairs and out her window is just wicked ) and off-the-wall wacky ( the whole club scene for instance, but especially the "Gremlin Flashdance" scene ).

They just don't make movies like they used to.
I missed my calling, I shoulda been an Eighties movie reviewer.
Anyways, if you've never seen it, your life has been hollow these last 19 years, and if you have, watch it again. You won't be sorry.

If I stumble upon more forgotten classics, i'll be sure to write about them, and if you'd like to suggest some, or if you have Gremlin memories of your own, please leave a comment!

Why buy a driftwood clock when you could just buy a tombstone?

Mon, 23 Aug 2004 06:44:14 GMT

My wife and I realized today that we are old people. Not physically old, or i dunno, "cosmically" old, just mentally old. Over the last week, not every night, but a number of them, we've fallen asleep watching the Olympics. We're not patriots or anything, its just we roll into bed, get under the covers and decide that this will be our routine while its on.
It doesn't matter what event. It could be something major like gymnastics, track, or swimming, but we're equally delighted when its something ludicrous like team table tennis or badminton.

The tape delay way in which NBC and its one billion sister stations ( BRAVO, USA, MSNBC, CNBC, ABCEASYAS123 )
present it makes it very easy to watch. There's only really like 30 seconds of build up,...the event,.. then Bob Costas saying something snotty about third world nations. :)

Anyways, this routine makes me feel the same age as someone who buys flavored water as a special Sunday treat.
While at the Monterey County Fair today, my wife and I noticed some driftwood clocks ( a piece of driftwood with a time piece glued on or something ... dont act like you dont know what it is, your grandparents had one of these just as surely as their house smelled like old people ). If we bought this and kept up our routine I'm sure we'd be shrivelled up and dead before September, which I dont want to happen, because the STAR WARS trilogy dvd comes out in September, and other important life things...whatever they may be.