Uncle Penelope Jones

Dave S and I sometimes come up with strange characters as we ramble through our weekly lunch get togethers.

One such character is Uncle Penelope Jones. The premise we came up with is he's the roguish uncle of a couple of inquisitive British kids, and they all live in some type of british tv sitcom unreality.

Anyway, a while ago, I was trying to come up with some characters for a kids show for grown-ups I was hoping to produce someday. I used Uncle Pen, but changed him to an Aussie. His schtick was that he spoke in indecipherable Australian slang.

Here's an example: “Back in them days a jibbly’d take a crack on a hoary, and nobody’d pass a quizzly. ‘Course, a bridget would. Then again, a bridget would crack a splyters and still come out with two cobs and a coolie. In the up-in-it though, the real tam-tam would take the ronald duffie and you’d still be left holding a bringle-bob.”

Don't ask me what it means, because it's gibberish.

Another character we made up is Nimbly Palesticks, the Educated Injun. He's a First Persons person who, back in the late 1800's was part of a circus that travelled Great Britain and parts beyond. He'd be put on display at the circus as living proof that Indians could be cultured. Not a happy fellow, Nimbly.

Don't know why I'm posting this.

PEI Theatre Festival 2004

From backstage, it looked like the PEI Theatre Festival 2004 Gala Awards night was a big success. A huge crowd in attendance, lots of people dressed really nicely, and everybody seemed to be happy and enjoying themselves.

Congratulations to Cynthia and the organizing committee for putting on a great 5 day event.

One thing, though. While it was fun to have the guys from the band playing music to bring people up on stage, and fun to have the 'and the award goes to' drumrolls, the drummer's need to provide a 'ba dum dum' or rim shot with every line that could possibly be perceived as funny...that started to get obtrusive to me.

I found it kind of funny, and I don't mean any offense to the event itself...but it was funny how some of the award recipients seemed to be really impressed/pleased with themselves that they won. The one who thanked God for the talent that He provided her was a highlight.

Sketch 22 performed two sketches near the end of the evening and they seemed to be very well received. Lots of laughter. It felt really good being on stage again, with scripted words.

Shall I Fwee Bwian?

As does probably everyone who reads these things, I sometimes check out the links to other blogs that are listed on the blogs I frequent. A friend of yours is a friend of mine kind of thing. Sometimes I'm pleasantly surprised, sometimes not so.

Sometimes it takes no more than a few words of the most recent post to decide whether Caeser gives the thumbs up, or the thumb to the throat to the newly discovered blog.

For instance, not much of a decision on this site, which had this sentence awaiting me:

"My all time favorite actress is Julia Roberts but for some reason I have been thinking about a scene with Daryl Hannah and her boyfriend in the movie Steel Magnolias."

The Kill List

Last night at the CDexchange, it was brought to my attention that, back in the "cool-to-be-angst-ridden, percolating punk" university days, I had compiled a list of people I'd like to kill.

Apparently it was a list of local, national and maybe even perhaps international figures who had in some way rubbed me the wrong way and therefore were deemed worthy to be rubbed out themselves. To be honest, I don't remember the contents of the list, but I vaguely, in a suggested-memory Manchurian Candidate way, remember that a list existed.

Let it be know, now, that I hereby revoke that list, and pardon everyone who may have appeared on it for whatever reason.

Except that one guy with the thing, and the thing on the thing. You know who you are.

Songs of the Months

Okay, so I'm involved in a monthly CD exchange club. We get together once a month and each of us brings a cd (a copy for each of everyone else) of music that we like, or that is on a theme, or what have you.

Last night was our first get-together. Before the meeting, I only really knew one of the participants (Matt), others I knew from their weblogs, others not at all, and our host, Dave, I knew somewhat way back in university but haven't seen in almost 20 years (my god!).

When compiling my playlist, I was worried about picking songs that relatively few others would have. I made an initial list of great songs, ones that I really like, from what I consider to be relatively obscure artists. I quashed that list, though, because I figured these people likely have musical tastes akin to me, so they'd likely not be obscure to them. So, I decided to create a cd on a theme, a musical experience of 12 songs, each somehow representative of, or inspired by, a month of the year. Familiarity of songs be damned, I thought. This cd will not be the discovery of new artists. Rather it'll be about the experience of song flowing into song, month into month. It's a concept album, dammit.

That was the idea, anyway.

So, here's my list, with liner notes to boot:

Songs of the Months Club – Introductory Offer

12 songs, each in some way representative of a month of the year.

Wild Is The Wind – David Bowie: Yeah, it may be a love song, but everything about this song feels cold to me. I think that’s why I like it so much. The production is dry and Bowie’s voice is as cold as a blustery January night. This is the chilliest love song I’ve heard.

Snowin’ On Raton – Townes van Zandt: He was the quintessential Texas Singer/Songwriter, and a guy that many songwriters cite as inspiration. I’m a friend of voices that may not be the most technically proficient, but are able to convey the emotion of the song. Townes van Zandt has that type of voice. This is a February drivin’-the-truck-through-the-southern-snow kinda road song.

Five Feet and Rising – Johnny Cash: I’ve always been a fan of Cash. However, since he started recording with the American label, I’ve become a huge fan. He’s another of those singers whose ability to convey the emotion of the song means more than the range of notes he hits. This is a song from an earlier era of Johnny Cash. March may be a bit early around these parts to be talkin’ flood, but, by God, it’s floodin’ somewhere.

April After All – Ron Sexsmith: I don’t want to imagine a music library that doesn’t contain songs from Canadian Ron Sexsmith. Simply, he’s a fantastic songwriter. If you aren’t familiar with him, I urge you to go and get his music. If you’re not fond of this song, trust me, there are others of his that will find heavy rotation in your playlists. Seek him out. Why did I choose this song? Well, it is April, after all.

Three Little Birds – Bob Marley & the Wailers: I’m guessing you probably know this song, but I had to include it. It just makes me feel so good. To me it epitomizes the peaceful positive potential of the day. After a long, cold winter, the birds have come back to sing to us! A May song like this should give you hope and happiness for the coming days of summer bliss.

Wildflowers – The Trio: I shouldn’t be, but I’m embarrassed to say that I quite like the music of Dolly Parton. When she teamed up with Emmylou Harris and Linda Ronstadt to create the wonderful album called “The Trio”, I was happy. Some of the most incredible country harmonies I’ve been fortunate to hear. As a sample from that album, I offer you this vocal painting of June wildflowers.

Ballad of a Ballgame – Christine Lavin: I don’t know a lot about Christine Lavin. I first discovered her years ago on a compilation cassette of Rounder Records artists, where she sang a very funny song called “Sensitive New Age Guys”. She’s kind of a female Loudon Wainwright III, in her ability to create funny, catchy personal songs that also have the ability to make you feel sad. Getting picked last, not being appreciated or expected to contribute. I’m guessing we can all relate in some way to this homage to that aspect of the pickup game of ball that takes place in July.

Long Hot Summer – The Style Council: As the main member of The Jam, Paul Weller was an important icon to me. Even though they were huge in Britain, his band (unknown on PEI) was one of those touchstones whose name you could drop to others on the Island, and if they knew who you were talking about, they were part of the cool young punk club. When The Jam broke up and Paul Weller formed The Style Council, a quasi-jazz-pop band, I wasn’t sure what to think. But I went along with it, even if it wasn’t anything like punk. Listening now to the Style Council songs I have, they stand up pretty well. This song sways, ever so cool, like a late August hammock in the evening shade.

California Stars – Billy Bragg and Wilco: Another song I expect many/most/all of you have, but what the hell. More Wilco than Bragg, this song, it comes from the excellent Mermaid Avenue collaboration of the two giving voice and melody to a number of Woody Guthrie songs that were never recorded. I chose this song for September because it seems to me that this is something you might do in September. Summer’s coming to an end so, as a way to squeeze the most out of it, you run out into the yard some night and lie on the grass and just look at the stars. That’s what I think of when I hear this song.

Fields of Gold – Eva Cassidy: Yes, the Sting song. I was a huge Police fan, even a fan of Sting for most of his career, but surely there’s only so much Sting one can take. So it’s nice to hear a great rendition of one of his songs from someone who isn’t Sting. This comes from an album I found called “Best of Acoustic”. Before this, I never heard of Eva Cassidy, but was struck by the beauty of her voice on this song. Just Googled and discovered that she died in 1996. So there you go. October brings golden fields of harvest and the unshakable truth that death, like rust, never sleeps.

Thanksgiving – Loudon Wainwright III: Remember earlier, where I alluded to the notion that Loudon Wainwright III wrote funny songs. Well, this isn’t really one of them. While he has a wonderful knack for comedy, he also has the ability to write songs that just rip the heart out. I find this song to be beautifully sad. This is a November song because Loudon is American, and of course, their Thanksgiving happens that month. If you don’t know Loudon, you owe it to yourself to check him out. His live album Career Days is a favourite of mine.



Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis – Tom Waits: There are a lot of people who can’t warm up to Tom Waits’ voice. I’m not one of them . I absolutely love his sound and in fact, he is, I think, the only artist recording today whose albums I’ll buy without question. His music is poetry. This song is unfathomably beautiful and sad.

Well, looking back, it’s kind of a low-key year, isn’t it? I thought about taking some songs out, and replacing them with a few more upbeat tunes, but somehow that seemed to spoil the mood of the thing. So, you’re stuck with this somewhat melancholy assemblage.

WotD: gambol

As soon as the snow melts, and the flowers bloom, I am going to go and gambol in a field.

Unknown Artist 1

To those who received my cd compilation, I believe I may need to apologize. I fear that the names of the artists and songs did not transfer to the CD. Just so you know, the songs were not all recorded by someone called Unknown Artist, and they are not part of a suite called Unknown Songs.

I think you may need to refer to the accompanying playlist sheet for song titles and artists. Sorry 'bout that.

I'll post my playlist later.

Fresh Off The Brain

Sketch 22, the comedy troupe that I'm currently involved in (with?), will be premiering two of our hot and fresh bits of comedy, this Sunday night at the Gala Night of the PEI Theatre Festival 2004. Not sure when we perform, but the evening gets underway at 7pm at the whatever-it's-called-now-but-used-to-be-called-the Lecture Theatre at the Confederation Centre of the Arts.

We'll be breaking the theatrical cherries of two, hopefully, funny sketches: The Len Kelly Affair, and, still under its working title, The Plover Sketch.

If you'd like to be the 6th person on this Earth to witness these sketches, come out and join the crowd this Sunday night. If you'd rather wait, you can catch them (and many more) this summer on Thursday and Friday nights at the ARTS Guild. If you have no interest at all in them, well, shame on you.

WotD: perorate

Rather than perorate on the meaning, derivation and etymology of the word, I'll leave it to you to discover its meaning.

HBO - Hooray!! Bravo!! Ovations!!

Okay, it's getting totally ridiculous. The incredible quality of HBO programming is just staggering. Over the years, HBO has aired some of my all-time favourite programs. I'm guessing that there would be maybe 6 HBO programs listed in my Top 10 TV programs (this is stated without attempting to come up with a list).

Just this year alone there is The Sopranos, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and debuting last night, the fantastically promising new western Deadwood, plus the upcoming Six Feet Under. Others just off the top of my head: The Larry Sanders Show and Mr. Show. Wow.

I came late to The Sopranos. I avoided it for about the first year and a half. Eventually, though, I succumbed to the hype, and checked it out. I've been totally hooked ever since. Last night's episode "Where's Johnny" was perhaps the best yet. I only wish my wife would fall under its spell like I did. But she is blinded by her dislike of gangster/mafia movies/shows.

Curb Your Enthusiasm, a fantastic comedy, is at a curious point in its development. This year it kind of reached a point of creation (much like Seinfeld the year when they decided to make all the small storylines in each episode relate to each other. We had to agree to go along with that absurdity.) where it turned towards more outlandish and unrealistic plot devices. Still as funny as all get out, but it's a question-mark as to whether we will go along with this, if it continues next year.

Deadwood debuted (that looks weird, debuted? Is that even right?) last night, and all I can say is "And I thought Lonesome Dove was a great western". Unbelievably good first episode. Can it possibly maintain that level of quality? I can't believe it's a television program.

Okay, I talked myself into it. Here, at this moment, are my Top Ten Television Programs (of all time)

1. Six Feet Under

2. The Office

3. The Sopranos

4. Law & Order

5. Seinfeld

6. Curb Your Enthusiasm

7. The Larry Sanders Show

8. Mr. Show

9. SCTV

10. All Those Shows That I'm Forgetting That Would Obviously Rate Above, Say, SCTV.

I am struck by the number of comedies. I don't include TV movies and/or miniseries. Only weekly television programs, comedy or drama.

TSN - The Spoiler Network

Sometimes, international sports that are televised live are aired, here on Prince Edward Island, at very early or very late hours. Such was the case with the Formula One race this weekend in Kuala Lampur. It aired live on TSN at 2:30am Sunday morning. There was a repeat broadcast at 3pm on Sunday afternoon. It was this repeat broadcast that I planned on watching.

While it isn’t a very tricky thing, trying to avoid seeing the results of a race already run, there is a certain amount of care that must be taken to ensure one remains oblivious. The usual Sunday morning routine of website visits must be carefully censored, with sites that could potentially so even a headline of the results taken out of the loop. Even though the results are never a part of any radio sports updates, it is best to avoid the radio. Television has its risks, too, especially if one is a remote-flicker like me. Best to stick to a movie channel, or one like TLC, where the threat of results discovery is minimal.

In the past, I found that TSN itself, was a fairly safe channel to watch, when they are planning on airing a repeat broadcast. Self-aware of the impending airing of the race, their ticker usually remains free of the results, until after the repeat broadcast. It was under this presumption that I decided it’d be safe enough to take part in my ritual Sunday morning viewing of TSN’s The Reporters.

Wrong choice. No sooner did I begin watching when, out of the bottom of my eye, I see on the ticker “F1 Malaysia – Final Results…1. Michael Schumacher 2. Juan Pablo Montoya…”

Damn. I quickly averted my eyes, but it was too late. I knew the winner. I knew 2nd place. By the time the results came across the ticker again, I had decided that I’d blow the whole experience and check out the Top 6 results as they came up.

So, I watched the race, knowing full well the outcome.

I'm disappointed in TSN for putting the results on their ticker, before they aired the repeat broadcast. I guess it's my own fault though for assuming they'd keep the results from those of us who sleep at 2:30 - 5am.

Ichi, Bin Eine Ramoner

I went to a friend's house last night to eat pizza, drink beer and watch a coupla dvds. While we were eating the pizza, we flipped through the channels and were forced to stop at YTV and watch the spectacle before us. "Forced", by the sheer oddity and spectacle of the show that was airing. It was an episode of The Powerpuff Girls, a cartoon I enjoy whenever I happen to watch it with my son (when he happens to watch it), that was presented as a musical. It was the trippin'est thing I've seen in a long, long time. Very "Hair"ish and psychedelic in style, with a Jack Black-type villain and lots of way-out songs and lyrics. A total "what the f&*%" trip for the kids, I'd guess. For us, too, for that matter. A pleasant surprise.

We then turned our attention to Rock and Roll High School. This is a movie that I wanted to see for a while. It revolves around a group of clean-cut 1979 era high school kids try to keep the evil principal from eliminating rock and roll from their school and their lives. Some good stuff in the movie, some pretty lame stuff, all surrounded by tons of tunes from The Ramones. It was like a 1950's teen rebel movie infused with a punk attitude.

Next up was Ichi, the Killer. Very violent and very sado/masochistic. A Japanese flick about gangsters who take pleasure and pride in inflicting pain and having pain inflicted on them. While most of the violence was over-the-top, a couple of scenes did make me squirm, which was good. Interesting and somewhat disturbing, that while most of the violence against men was over-the-top, the violence against women was more rooted in reality.

Some pretty cool, interesting visuals, but the main thing about the movie is the extreme violence. Worth watching if you've got a stomach for it. On the Internet Movie Database, a user's comment sums it up pretty well: "Snuff film for cowards".

The Saviour of Rock and Roll

Currently, critics are climbing all over each other, each clamoring that they were the THE apostle who first wrote the scripture claiming Franz Ferdinand as the saviour of popular music. While the band is fantastic, and you should go find their album right now, they are too 'of the moment' to be taken seriously as the band that will save music.

There needs to be a science behind the claim. In steps Dr. David Thorpe with a very scientific method to determine exactly who might just be our Rock'n'Roll Saviour.

The results of his science are shocking, but perhaps, accurate. I'll not divulge the results here, but if this saviour does pan out, I hereby claim myself to be a Rock'n'Roll Atheist.

Meantime, on this day of Irish celebration, go and seek out the fantastic music of Scottish phenoms Franz Ferdinand.

Not Like Other Lego Guys

I'm a fan of the Lego stop-motion genre of film-making. My son and I have even produced a couple of short Lego films, and if I had more web-space, and/or was more comfortable in my knowledge of how to do so, I'd offer them up for you.

I came across a link for what is, by far, the best Lego movie I've ever seen. It's a close-to-shot-by-shot reproduction of Michael Jackson's video "Thriller". It's a little blurry, but it's good.

You can download it here. The site is in German, and you have to scroll down near the bottom to find the download link. I'm not sure how big the file is, but it's definately worth it.

But Does It Suck Gass

There is a television ad that is airing now. I believe it is advertising a van (maybe it's a car?).

---------

Doorbell rings, mid-40's man answers the door. At the door is his cool 1980's self, come to the present to see what the hell happened to him. He's so square now. He's so not cool. He's --

--wait a minute, a van (car?) has pulled up and a woman gets out and starts taking groceries out of the back seat.

This sight of this lovely vision stops 80's guy in mid-rant. Is he excited about the vehicle, or the woman, obviously his future-wife?

Now, what I noticed right away (and this may be a character flaw on my part) was the rather large behind on the woman. Not fat, but very J-Lo. A big bottom. This size of this bottom cannot be an accident, I think to myself. It is definately big enough to not be an accident. An ass like this can only get into an ad on purpose.

But why would they want a big-assed woman in the ad?

80's guy runs over to vehicle, looks in the back, where the groceries are, and I believe his only comment regarding the vehicle is a too-excited "Big backseat!!"

--------

What the hell?

I don't know if I dislike this ad, or if I really like it.

"Help Put An End To Piracy"

…he read on the screen at the movie theatre. Movie cost for 2 adults, 1 child: $25.50. Snack purchases cost: approximately $20.

Piracy, indeed.

Double Digit Day

On what date will the temperature at Charlottetown next reach +10C or higher?

I'm going on record as saying Friday, March 19th will be the next day that the temperature reaches +10.

What say you?

Assorama

Sometimes little things amuse me to no end.

Just finished reading the rehash of last week's The Apprentice at the very funny Television Without Pity. Or was it PlanetSocks? Either way, both are very entertaining sites that present often sarcastic, always funny recaps of recently aired television programs. Sometimes the recaps can be upwards of 15 pages long. (They often go into minute details of observation)

The Apprentice is a 'reality' program where a group of business people vie against each other for what is apparently the creme de la creme of business life: a job working for Donald Trump. (personally, I'd prefer a job *not* working for Donald Trump, that is, where the job is 'not working'). Anyway, one of the most annoying contestants was a woman called Amarosa, but she got fired last week. The little thing that amused me to no end was that the recapper continually calls her "Assorama" instead of Amarosa.

I wish I had thought of that.

If you're interested, check out the Survivor recaps too. Pretty entertaining.

To The Button

I completely understand why people can't stand curling. To the uninitiated or uncaring, it must seem like the most utterly boring sport on television.

But I absolutely love watching it. If you know, or care, about what's going on, it's an incredibly nuanced and subtle sport. It can be incredibly exciting, if you know what you're watching.

Granted, I only watch the major tournaments, can't be bothered with those skin tourneys they televise over the winter. The best curling, by far, is the Brier, which is happening this week. The curling here, on average, is far superior to the world championships where the quality of teams is more inconsistent.

Being an Island boy, I always root for PEI, of course. And, except for last year's Scott tourney, am always disappointed by the results. However, last night, with PEI completely out of the running with a 1-and-whatever record, I found myself cheering for Newfoundland to beat PEI in a close, high-scoring game. This is the first time I can recall wishing another province's team would beat ours. Why? I really like the NL team, and they're right in the hunt for top spot.

So, go Newfoundland! You're what PEI would be, if PEI had a sense of humour.

Bertuzzi On Ice

Anyone who saw the incident must agree that Todd Bertuzzi should be penalized for his actions. The question is, of course, to what extent.

Hockey is the toughest, most demanding team sport going. The challenge is this: how to let the game unfold in a competitive way without the rules getting too much in the way of the inherent physicality of the game?

Because it is such a tough, physical game, it's expected that tempers will flair on occasion. There must be strict and stern policies in place to ensure that the players understand the penalties for violations out of the ordinary; for flairing tempers. I believe that the NHL has, over the last number of years to, failed to adhere to, and enforce, these policies in any meaningful way.

It comes down to the basic philosophy of officiating. I think it's natural for the players to try to get away with whatever they're allowed to get away with. Because the league is too worried about the repercussions of over-enforcing even the basic rules of the game, sticks have been getting perpetually higher, constantly hovering around opponent's faces, forever hooking without getting penalized. Checking from behind that sometimes gets called, many times not.

If the most basic rules are being broken, unchallenged, then how in the world would the officials dare to enforce more flagrant fouls? I believe this is a mentality that has, subconsciously, entered into the game.

It all leads up to Todd Bertuzzi, on the losing end of a 9-2 game, losing his sense of reason momentarily and blind-side-sucker-punches the player who hurt his teammate a number of games ago. They both fall to the ice, others jump on, and it's a free-for-all of mayhem.

Yes, it was premeditated. Yes, it was wrong, and yes, he should be penalized severely. I think he should be suspended for the rest of the season, including the playoffs. I think he should get the same charges brought against him as were brought against McSorley a couple of years ago. He should not get jail time.

I blame Bertuzzi for doing what he did. But I also blame the NHL for allowing a game-atmosphere to exist in which such an action can enter into the mind of one of its players and be acted upon without thought of penalty. If it's a given before-hand that such an action would result in a year long suspension, the punch never would have happened.

Side note. I just watched the Bertuzzi apology on TSN. It's pretty clear that the guy is pretty devastated at what he did. The worst thing about the press conference though, was whenever the teary-eyed Bertuzzi moved his hand to wipe away a tear, a thousand cameras clicked, looking for tomorrow's newspaper photo. His hand goes down, silence from the cameras. Hand goes up to wipe his nose, a thousand clicking cameras. Hand down, silence. I found that sound to be sickeningly invasive, even in such a public forum as a press conference.

A Depp, Abiding Love

I'm really late to this party.

Nothing I say that hasn't been said elsewhere, likely. Billy Crystal was lame. The awards were predictable (20 of 24 correct in defunct Matt's Oscar pool). A few good moments in an otherwise pretty unforgettable evening.

The highlight for me, though, was when my wife said: "Johnny Depp reminds me of you". That is a direct quote. I'll not bore you with the specific context of the comment.

Spring

Today, I found some writing I had forgotten about.

Back in 2000, there was an internet entity called Island Edition, run, initially by Kirby Ferguson.

For a while, I contributed a regular feature called Ask Karo, which was a spoof on advice columns. Through the course of the feature's run, and through the answers Karo gave to questions asked, the character of Karo developed into something of lecherous, self-important know-it-all who may or may have had dealings in Hungarian wrestling and/or bestiality porn businesses. It was fun to write.

Anyway, one of the questions was from a guy who had the winter blues, what could he do to snap out of it.

Karo suggested just to wait it out, and to express feelings through poetry. As an example, Karo offered the following (bad) poem he wrote regarding winter:

I offer it to you to help you get through the rest of this snowy winter.

Spring, Ye Be An Arm's Length Away, Yet Ye Mock Me

Boomer calls for flurries here, and up north in Yellowknife.

I forecast continued despair in a sallow'd Wintertide life.

From 4pm 'til next day's dawn, darkness engulfs the air

Yet the only thing on TV is Who Wants To Be A Millionaire...

Stuck on top this red-isle stone

Wind-chill'd ass, glass-ice blown

Not until those spring buds bloom

Shall I lose this glum and gloom.

Shake It, Shake, Shake It, Shake It

It is not a big scar. In fact, it's only, perhaps, a centimetre long. And it's barely visible, unless the light hits it right.

This scar is on my left hand, on the tip of the finger that, if I held it up by itself, the action would be considered very rude.

When I was, I'm guessing, 15, a friend of mine and myself, neither of whom had much going on that summer day, found ourselves in my family's garage, searching for self-amusement. There was a roll of paper towels. There was a pair of electric garden shears. And, we decided, there were paper dolls to be created.

Truth be told, it was I who decided that paper dolls must be created. My friend was quite content to watch.

So, pulling the first paper towel off the roll, I powered up the electric shears. (Reading that last sentence again, just now, I can see the folly and danger inherent in it. When I was 15, nothing was dangerous and everthing was folly, so what the hell.)

Being a free-form designer and cutter, I began to cut willy-nilly, daintily holding the paper towel in my left hand, ravenously cutting with the electric shears in my right. The middle finger of my left hand was relaxed, hidden behind the paper fabric, unaware of the shock and ow that was about to befall it.

The whirring blades met the skin on the tip of that finger; the paper towel floated indelicately to the concrete floor; the electric shears dropped to the garage counter, still whirring; and for a moment, the world moved in slow motion.

Except for my left hand, which, in real-time, I began to shake like a polaroid picture. Blood flew here and there. Tiny droplets landing on me, landing on my recoiling friend, landing everywhere within a 10 foot radius of my hand and finger, which I continued to shake as if trying to flick off a snot.

Shortly thereafter, common sense grabbed hold, I could see the wound was actually not too serious, and the paper towel doll was used as a compress to ease the blood flow to a stop.

But, as I say, the resulting scar is now barely visible.

Lethal Weepin'

The Accordian Guy has a post about some alternate names for The Passion of The Christ. I do like the Tarantino versions: Kill Jesus and Pulp Crucifixion, as well as the poster for the version of the movie starring Snoop Dogg, called The Pazzle of The Chrizzle.

With my title to this post, I tried to stick to a Mel Gibson themed title. Lethal Weepin' isn't so great, admittedly, even if you understand that everyone who sees the movie is supposed to cry. But it's a beter Gibson-themed title than BraveChrist. Perhaps I should have chosen Robed Warrior?

By the way, does anyone else think that this movie might hurt the recent Pilates workout craze?

Have you got any alternate titles?

Just looking through some of the DVD's hangin' 'round my computer, and some other thoughts, here's a few more:

From Merchant Ivory productions: A Cross With A View

From Spike Jonze: Being Jesus Christ

From Spielberg: Saving Private Christian, and The Emperor Strikes Back, and Jews!

From Oliver Stone: Born on the First of A.D.

From Orson Welles: Citizen Christ

From Robert Altman: C*H*R*I*S*T

From Frank Capra: Mr. Christ Goes To Juruselum

Yeah, yeah. Pretty lame.

Too Busy To Think

I feel bad, friends, for not posting more than I have been lately, to this blog.

The truth is, I've been too busy to think. I know, I know. You're thinking "but Rob, it doesn't appear that any thought goes into your posts to begin with".

At work, I and another guy do the work of 2.5 people, which sometimes during the year escalates to the work of three, done by two. Understand? So, there's two of us. When one of us gets a cold or whatever, the other takes over the sickie's duties for the day or two of that illness. This is tolerable. For a day or two. Busy but tolerable.

Well, for the past 2+ weeks, the other guy has been out due to an extended (extending) illness, leaving me, a man of 1, to do the work of 2.5, sometimes 3. Unsure of when he'll return, the office has been asking me on a semi-regular basis if I need another to help out. So far, I've been getting by, by treating each day as one of those he's-out-sick-today days (I'm just not acknowledging that it's been 12 consecutive he's-out-sick-today days.) So far, I've been managing to efficiently and effectively get the work of 2.5, sometimes 3, done by one. Some (most) days, though, it leaves me completely drained, intellectually. (the first 3 "Rob + drained + intellect" jokes receive a prize) As a result, the postings here have been sparse and few between.

Regular programming will resume when technical difficulties subside.

Please Stand By.

WotD: qua

Still ravaged by a weekend flu, anything I say to anyone should be viewed qua a heavily-medicated man.