Rob's 7-Word Reviews of some IMAF Short Films

I went to Friday night's IMAF 2012 "Funny Ha Ha" screening at The Guild, in Charlottetown.  Actually, just didn't "go", but co-hosted with Graham Putnam.

I thought my hosting got off to a rough start when I said something about how the shorts we'll be seeing aren't necessarily funny... my goal was to point out how "funny" is such a personal thing, and what's funny to one isn't necessarily funny to others.  But I think it may have come out as me declaring that none of the videos were funny.  At least that's how my brain has since remembered the moment.  Probably wasn't quite like that.  My hosting for the start of Act Two seemed to be more smooth, I thought.

So, were the shorts funny?  Well, here's a 7 word review of each of them.

Uptown Charlottetown by Lennie MacPherson and Fraser MacAllum (PEI) - Too long. Edited like a rough draft.

Superscience by Joel MacKenzie (NS) - Sophomoric presentation, amateurish performances. Didn't even smile.

Home Sweet Hell, ep.1 (and ep.2 later on in the evening) by Fox Henderson (PEI): Dated spoof misses the mark. Terrible sound.

The Fourth Minute by Ross Vincent Moore (NFLD): Uninteresting script, uninspired. Two minutes too long.

Buzz Off by Renee Laprise (PEI): Tries way too hard to be funny.

Afghan by Pardis Parker (NS): Smart, interesting, sharp. A bit too long.

PEI Encyclopedia: Intelligence (and later : Fighting) by Dominique Girouard (PEI): Lowest comedic denominator; like cumming into Kleenex.

Goodbye Robot Army by Greg Jackson (NS): Looked good, but that's all. Predictable & long.

Dead Guy Sleeping (or The Quiet Guy) by Nils LIng (PEI): Pointless, predictable, perplexing. Unintersting script, unmotivated delivery.

The Wake by Andrew Winter (NFLD): Hated it. Unlikeable characters. Obvious, unfunny punchline.

Hurricane Harry by Neil Wiley and Richard DesRoches (PEI): A mess. And here's five more words.

Ken Fucks Up by Ruby Boutilier and Sarah Byrne (NS): Interesting idea, funny moments, a bit repetitive. 

Bunkerdown: A Friend For Dinner by Jason Rogerson (PEI): (disclosure: this is a Sketch22 video, and I was involved in the creation of it)  Cartoonish "Jerry" performance distracts from tone. Ambitious.

Was I in a bad mood that night?  Not very many positive reviews. I only smiled a handful of times and laughed only a couple of times.

I guess it's true: comedy is hard.

How To Make The Next Season of Survivor Awesome

I'm a big fan of Survivor.  However, I've been discouraged the past few seasons by the routine to the strategies: On Day One, a handful of players from each tribe commit to each other to be a strong, small alliance until the very end.  More and more, these alliances remain strong, and a result is that suspense and strategy about who might be voted out for any episode is pretty much non-existent.  When the contestants walk up to Tribal Council every week, we pretty much know (despite the producers' best efforts to create red-herring possibilities) who will be voted out.

When I heard about this season's "twist", that the contestants would all be sharing one beach, I was intrigued.  I thought it might make for some interesting cross-tribe secret alliances.  But, when the teams were divided by gender, that pretty much smothered any chance for cross-tribe alliances, since it pretty quickly became a Women's Tribe Against Men's Tribe situation.  That Women vs. Men vibe has maintained throughout the season, and as a result, once the numbers were in the women's favour during teh Individual Immunity portion of the season, there's been very little suspense episode to episode as who might get voted out.  We know/knew it'd be a man.  Maybe not *which* man, but it'd be a man.

Anyway, Survivor is still a great show to watch, but it is becoming a bit stagnated when it comes to surprising strategy.

So, I came up with what I think they should do next time to drastically increase the potential for surprises and scrambling by/for the contestants:

EPISODE ONE: Keep the idea of all contestants on one beach.  Day One, Jeff tells them that they are all sharing one camp, and that they'll be divided up into teams later on.

Let them all do what they usually do on Day One - try and scramble to create their small, strong alliances.  This will become much more interesting in these first few hours, because the players won't know what team they'll be on, so alliances will likely be more tenuous.

At the first Tribal Reward Challenge, Jeff informs them that they'll now be divided into two teams.  How they get divided doesn't really matter.  They get divided, are told the team names, and then compete for reward.  One team wins, one loses, and then they go back to camp.

Now that they've been divided, they'll begin to create what they think are more substantial mini-alliances with contestants from *their* team.

Onto the first Tribal Immunity Challenge... They compete as teams again, and the players from the losing team go to Tribal Council where one of them gets voted out of the game.  That's Episode One.

EPISODE TWO:  Bring them to Tribal Reward Challenge, and this is where the bomb gets dropped.  The teams from the last challenges are completely disbanded, and brand new teams are randomly created (must be random).  These two new teams will compete against each other in the next Reward and the next Immunity challenge.  Jeff informs them that this is the way it will continue - random new teams each round - until it's time to switch to Individual Immunity challenges.

They do the Reward Challenge, with these new teams.  Go back to camp and freak out as they realize the implications of the Always-Changing-Team-Members format.  Go to Immunity Challenge, and you might be competing against alliance members, and they might lose, and be voted out that night.... then your alliance is in shambles.  That's Episode Two

The subsequent episodes would continue in the same way:  Every week, they're divided up into new random teams - always switching up who you are competing with/against each time...

If they did this, it would totally change the way the contestants play the game in the first third of the season.  They'd still try and form alliances, but sometimes they'd be competing against people in their alliances, and there'd be more possibiltiy of people in one's alliance getting voted out when they're on the losing immunity challenge team.

How I Would Have Improved This Week's "The Walking Dead"

I cannot count the number of times this season when, about 15 to 30 minutes into an episode of The Walking Dead, I vowed to stop watching the series.  I have been beyond frustrated with the season, ever since they got to that damn farm.  All they do on that farm is argue and debate and complain and whine.

Yet I am still watching. Still hoping that *the next scene* is when the series will become exciting and enjoyable again - only to have the next scene be two characters walking from the house to the camp and arguing with each other about something inconsequential.  There seems to be maybe 2 good (occasionally *great*) scenes per episode, and the rest is just awful.

I understand the characters are rather 2-dimensional (they are based on the comic book counterparts, after all), and I don't really have a problem with that.  2-dimensional characters can be entirely satisfactory if they are put into situations where something *real* is at stake.  But put 2-dimensional characters on a farm where they are relatively safe (*why* they are safe on this farm, I am not entirely sure of) and comfortable, and their problems get pretty shallow and insignificant pretty quick.

So, after 3 paragraphs of setup, I get to the point of this post - I am going to state how I would have improved this week's episode.

First, a quick recap of the episode - spoilers abound for anyone who hasn't seen it.

-we see Bow & Arrow Guy (I'm not good at remembering the names of the characters on this show), beating up the wayfaring stranger kid.  To get information out of him.  I don't know why the kid is withholding info, but he is - until he gets beat up enough to divulge that there's a group of about 30 guys in another group, and they're men of questionable morals.

-the kid of the group (who is a total pain in the ass this episode - made worse by his awful, awful acting) keeps showing up in scenes where he's told by everyone else not to be showing up in (why is nobody keeping an eye on this kid?).  He's ignorant and rebellious, and steals a pistol and goes walkabout until he comes across a walker who is stuck in the mud.  He throws rocks like a girl and, with Fake Stakes Brain (a syndrome I just invented where a character does something so ridiculous and stupid and so obviously wrong and out of character that it is done ONLY to create fake stakes), gets within touching distance of the walker, and almost gets deadened.  He leaves the walker alone and runs off.

-Everyone argues and debates and questions and wonders and debates some more about whether they should kill the wayfaring kid.  It is a foregone conclusion that they will kill him (psyche!!!), but still the whole episode is wasted on them discussing whether it should be done.  Dale, the only one who wants them to NOT kill the kid, walks off in a huff and ends up getting deadened by a walker (on this so-called supposedly *safe* farm? Huh?)  The kid sees that the walker is the foot-stuck-in-the-mud one he had come upon (and subsequently realeased from the mud), and by the end of the episode, blames himself, it is assumed.

-Sheriff can't go through with killing the wayfaring kid because the way the rebellious boy tells his dad to shoot Wayfarer, Dad is suddenly horrified and ashamed by what he was about to do.

That's about it... But let me emphasize how much time was spent this episode with them debating whether to kill or not to kill.

It was another intolerably long and argument-infested episode where really nothing much happened, except in that one scene where Dale died.

So, here's how I'd improve the episode (and the series):

- start with gun pointed at the head of the wayfaring kid, in the barn (we can allude, if we must, to the debates they've had about whether to kill him or not).  He's about to be shot.  In his panic, he divulges the info about the other gang.

-Dale comes in, pleading not to kill him - we get the whole argument (and the point it was trying to convey) over in one scene.  They refuse and Dale walks off, stating he'll not be a party to this (just like in the actual episode).

- Before Dale leaves, the rebellious kid shows up (through a line of dialogue we learn that he's not supposed to be there, and has been a pain in the ass today) and is sent to his room *where he stays for the rest of his time on the farm*.

-Sheriff shoots wayfaring kid. He is dead.  (If future episodes require the wayfarer *not* to be dead, then he doesn't get shot - but it's not because Sheriff can't do it, it's because they get side-tracked by the Dale Gets Attacked By Walker Situation).

- The walker kills Dale (just like in the actual episode - although I have issues about how that happened - how did the walker sneak up on Dale?). The group realizes that the farm is not safe, and they hastily pack and leave the farm. Some can choose to remain.  Who remains?  Any characters from the dozen or so on the farm who haven't spoken a line of dialogue in the past four episodes - I'm looking at you Black Guy and at you, Other Younger Male Guy Who Is Part of The Farm Family, and at you, Suicide Girl.

-The rest of the episdoe (about 20 minutes more, I figure) is about them adjusting to being back on the road again. 

-If we must (and only if there is a later payoff for the kid's guilt), we can see in flashback (while they're on the road), the rebellious kid coming across the walker and setting him free - the same one who killed Dale.

-Something exciting and future-plot-relevant happens on the road, as the final act of the episode, that makes us eager for what might happen next episode.

I'm Glad She's Dead

Sybil Monroe didn't give me the time of day when we was going to school.

She thought she was too good for me.

And she'd laugh at me clothes.

Well, the last laugh's on her, because now she's Dead.

And I'm glad.

Oh yes.

I'm glad she's dead.

Oh yeah.

I'm glad her poor old mother outlived her.

And her stuck-up friends,

Like Gladys Kennedy, or that fat one, Charlene O'Connor,

Crying their tears and smudging up their makeup at the funeral,

Can go to Hell too.

Moe Gorman

Darts - Twenty

My son and a couple of his friends, and I, have invented a darts game that we are liking quite a bit. It's called "Twenty".  Before I explain the game, I should say that it is not a game for good darts players, as it would be quite boring for them.  But if you're of a certain low level of ability, it's a pretty great game.

By "a certain low level of ability", I'm talking about people who are inconsistent in hitting the number or section on the board that they are trying to hit.  If you can consistently hit the number you're trying to hit, then you shouldn't be playing this game.  If you, on the other hand, miss your target more-or-less often than you hit it, you're perfect for this game.

Twenty

Two to however many players can play at the same time.  For each Round, each player throws three darts (if needed) per turn.  You win the round, you get a point.  We play the first to five points wins the set, and a match is the first to win 3 sets. (if more than 3 people are playing, you'd probably want to lower those to, say, three points wins the set...)

To win the round (and get a point), the goal is to reach, during your turn, a total of 20. (each round can have several turns)

Let's say you hit the 5 with your first dart.  That means you try to hit the 15 with your second dart (to total 20). Let's say you hit the 19 with your second dart.  That means your total is now 24 (5 + 19) and on your third dart, you would try to hit the 4 (24 - 4 = 20).  Let's say you hit the 14 with your third dart.  That means you carry-over with a 10 (24 - 14), and on your next turn in the round (if you get a next turn), you'd start by trying to hit the 10.  

In short, you're always trying to achieve a total of 20 points (by either adding or subtracting the point value of each dart thrown) to win a round.

At the beginning of each round, everyone starts over with a 0 (zero) total.

The Doulbes ring is worth the double value of the point, and the triple ring is worth triple value of the point.  The outer bullseye is worth 25 and the inner bullseye is worth 50 (just like in other darts games).

(one special note about scoring: Your total cannot go into the minus numbers.  So, let's say you get 5 with your first dart, and 19 with your second dart.  Your total is 24 and you're trying to get the 4.  But instead you hit Triple 20 (which = 60).  Instead of subtracting 60 from 24 (your current score) which would give you a minus-number, you have to add 60 to 24, meaning on your next dart (or series of darts) you'd be at 84 (meaning you'd need 64 to get to the 20-total.  Follow me?) In short, if, by subtracting the score on the last dart you threw your total would become a minus-number, you have to, instead, ADD the score of your last dart to your current total.

Getting Twenty to win the Round

The One-Dart Twenty:  Let's say you get a 20-total on the first dart of your turn.  That is called a One Dart Twenty". In that situation, all other players get a chance to play out the round, and each gets one dart to try and match your "One Dart Twenty".  If someone else gets a One Dart Twenty, then the round is tied, and everyone starts the round over (everyone starting at zero).

Examples of One Dart Twenty Rounds in a 3-player game:

P1 hits a 20 in one dart.  P2 hits a 5 on first dart and is out (he needed to hit 20 in one dart to tie P1).  P3 hits 20 to match P1.  That means it's a Hold-Over and all 3 players start the round over, each starting at zero

P1 hits 20 in one dart.  P2 hits a 1 on first dart and is out.  P3 hits 12 and is out.  That means P1 get one point, and a new round starts, each players starting at zero.

P1 hits a 4, then an 18 (4 + 18 = 22) then a 6 (22 - 6 = 14).  P1 now needs a 14 during his next turn.  P2 hits 20 on his first dart.  P3 (needs to hit 20 to tie) hits a 12 and is out of the round.  P1 gets a chance to tie P2.  If he hits 14 (which is what he needs to get 20) it's a Hold-Over and all 3 players start the round over, each starting at zero.  If he misses 14 in one dart, then he is out and P2 gets the point.

There is a special One-Dart Twenty rule for games with 3 or more players:  If P1 hits 20 on his first dart, and P2 hits 20 on his first dart, P3 (or the rest of the players) gets a chance to *win* the round by hitting the red (inner) bullseye with one dart. If he gets the bullseye, he wins the round and gets the point.  If he (or all subsequent remaining players) misses the bullseye, then the round is tied, and everyone starts the round again at zero.

The Two-Dart Twenty: Let's say you get a 20-total in two darts on your turn.  That is called a "Two Dart Twenty".  In that situation, all other players get a chance to play out the round, and each gets two darts to try and match your Two Dart Twenty.  If someone else gets a Two Dart Twenty, then the round is tied, and everyone starts the round over (everyone starting at zero).  If someone (when trying to match a Two Dart Twenty) manages to reach twenty in One-Dart, then the remaining players (those who haven't already tried to match the Two Dart Twenty) must try and match the One Darty Twenty.

The Three-Dart Twenty: Let's say you get a 20-total in three darts on your turn.  That is called a "Three Dart Twenty".  In that situation, all other players get a chance to play out the round, and each gets three darts to try and match your Three Dart Twenty.  If someone else gets a Three Dart Twenty, then the round is tied, and everyone starts the round over (everyone starting at zero).  If someone (when trying to match a Three Dart Twenty) manages to reach twenty in One-Dart or Two-Darts, then the remaining players (those who haven't already tried to match the Three Dart Twenty) must try and match the One-Dart or Two-Dart Twenty.

Starting the game & starting each set:  To start the game and each set, each player tosses one dart.  Closest to the bullseye goes first, second closes goes second, etc.

Order of play (for more than 2 players):  When playing with more than 2 players, the order of play often keeps changing, depending on the outcome of the preceeding round. Basically, when you throw your darts you go to the end of the line.  That order is maintained, unless someone other than the first thrower wins the round.  The person who won the preceeding round throws first in the next round, and the order of the line changes to reflect that.  For simplicity's sake, the basic rule is "after you throw your dart(s) in the round, go to the end of the line.  Unless you win the round, then you go to the front of the line."

Rob's Ten Commandments

I saw something out of the corner of my eye-nternet, about *the* Ten Commandments.  Some politician was complaining about others not following them, and then it was revealed that he couldn't name all ten of them.

That made we wonder whether the ten commandments were still relevant, and, assuming they probably weren't, I wondered what *my* ten commandments would be, if I had to come up with them

So, that's what this is about.  I'm making my own Ten Commandments.  Because 

 

1. Don't kill anyone. Unless they're attemting to harm you or your family in some serious way, and there seems to be no other option.  (by "serious", I don't mean "he stole my hubcaps" or other matters of material inconsequence. )

2. If you made a vow of some sort to someone, don't break it, unless it is better for all parties to break it. 

3. Morality starts and ends with you.  YOU know if what you're doing, or are about to do, is wrong. 

We Don't Want To Murder You. We Just Want Candy

It was our first Halloween in our new house.

Actually, only partly true.  It was the first Halloween for my wife and son.  Our new house is the house I grew up in, so I've had probably two decades worth of Halloweens in the house. (We bought my parent's house and moved into it in September)

But for the sake of simplicity, let's call it our first Halloween in our new house.

We were told, by my parents, to expect about 25 trickertreaters, and sure enough, we had maybe 30 before the 8pm curfew.  (there is an 8pm curfew, right?)

And two more after the curfew.  Well-after the curfew.

About 11:50pm, as I'm just about ready to go to bed (everyone else except the cats had already retired to their bedrooms), our front doorbell rings.  Now, if you're like me, you don't like doorbells to ring around midnight, and you don't like middle-of-the-night phone calls. So, I nervously approach the front door.  I see two figures standing on the doorstep, both dressed in black cloaks, and both wearing white full-face masks.  One was tall and thin, the other shorter and squat.

"Trick or Treat", says the taller one.  He speaks with a slow, deep voice. Kind of slurred, but it didn't sound drunk-slurred.  Just creepy-slurred. Anyway, I didn't recognize it.

"Sorry", I say.  "Too late."

"C'mon, trick or treat", he says.  There is no humour or levity to his voice.  To me, it sounds ominous.

"No way, boys."  I instantly regretted the "boys", because it sounded fake and desperate. I wanted to maintain a detached coolness to the whole affair, and didn't think this "boys" was helping me achievie my goal.

"Trick or treat. We want some candy"

"You gotta leave now.  You're not getting anything."  Strong and emphatic.  Not a hint of the scaredy-cat heart-thumping I was experiencing inside.

At this point, a few things enter my brain.  One is that these two guys are decoys, and the real threat (yes, I was feeling threatened) had already entered through the back door.  Did I lock the back door?  I look behind me, half-expecting to be hit by a blunt object.  But, of course, nobody was there.  Two, is the idea that both of them were about to pull bats out from under their cloaks and break the windows and enter and do who-knows-what.  The movie "Funny Games" suddenly appeared in my thoughts and my brain kind of peed itself.  Three, is the question "Are they friends of my son?" and simultaneously realizing I don't know them.  None of these thoughts did anything to negate my growing nervousness, nor quash my ever-rapidly-increasing heart beat.

"We want candy."  Only the tall, thin one was speaking.  This only added to my anxiety.

"You're not getting anything.  You have to leave now."

And this next sentence was the sentence that took this whole experience to a new level of freaky for me.

"We don't want to murder you.  We just want candy."

You'd have to hear it to understand just how creepy and awful and passively threatening it was. My first thought was "We don't want to murder you" doesn't necessarily mean "we won't be murdering you".  It just means they don't "want" to murder you, but they will, if they don't get candy.

"Okay, I'm calling the police."

A few more moments of more of the same lack of ground-gaining from either party.  They insisting on getting candy, and me insisting on this being enough now.

Then they leave, and walk down the driveway.  I watch them amble off across the street and into the yard of a neighbour.  I go and get my cell-phone, ready to dial if I see anything untoward.  I may have actually thought the word "untoward" in my brain at that moment.  I wondered if this event would warrant a 911 call or should I call another number?  What would that other number be?

They come back to the street and walk up to another neighbour's house, walk up to their veranda - I ready to call 911, even if it didn't warrant ti - and then the tall one picked up something off the veranda and walked back to the street.  They start back toward my house.

I am so ready to call 911.  i see he has a pumpkin.  A good sized pumpkin.  "Okay, it's going through one of our windows" I think. I brace myself for this.

But then, at the end of the driveway, he lifts the pumpkin over his head and throws it onto our pavement.  It breaks into pieces.  They wander off, up the street.

I watch them until I can't see them anymore.  Then I watch them for another couple of minutes.

Then I go and check the back door.  It was locked.

Then I go to bed and try to get my heart to stop beating, and feel kind of embarrassed for having my heart beating so much at what turned out to be a non-event.

Happy Halloween!

We Don't Want To Murder You. We Just Want Candy

It was our first Halloween in our new house.

Actually, only partly true.  It was the first Halloween for my wife and son.  Our new house is the house I grew up in, so I've had probably two decades worth of Halloweens in the house. (We bought my parent's house and moved into it in September)

But for the sake of simplicity, let's call it our first Halloween in our new house.

We were told, by my parents, to expect about 25 trickertreaters, and sure enough, we had maybe 30 before the 8pm curfew.  (there is an 8pm curfew, right?)

And two more after the curfew.  Well-after the curfew.

About 11:50pm, as I'm just about ready to go to bed (everyone else except the cats had already retired to their bedrooms), our front doorbell rings.  Now, if you're like me, you don't like doorbells to ring around midnight, and you don't like middle-of-the-night phone calls. So, I nervously approach the front door.  I see two figures standing on the doorstep, both dressed in black cloaks, and both wearing white full-face masks.  One was tall and thin, the other shorter and squat.

"Trick or Treat", says the taller one.  He speaks with a slow, deep voice. Kind of slurred, but it didn't sound drunk-slurred.  Just creepy-slurred. Anyway, I didn't recognize it.

"Sorry", I say.  "Too late."

"C'mon, trick or treat", he says.  There is no humour or levity to his voice.  To me, it sounds ominous.

"No way, boys."  I instantly regretted the "boys", because it sounded fake and desperate. I wanted to maintain a detached coolness to the whole affair, and didn't think this "boys" was helping me achievie my goal.

"Trick or treat. We want some candy"

"You gotta leave now.  You're not getting anything."  Strong and emphatic.  Not a hint of the scaredy-cat heart-thumping I was experiencing inside.

At this point, a few things enter my brain.  One is that these two guys are decoys, and the real threat (yes, I was feeling threatened) had already entered through the back door.  Did I lock the back door?  I look behind me, half-expecting to be hit by a blunt object.  But, of course, nobody was there.  Two, is the idea that both of them were about to pull bats out from under their cloaks and break the windows and enter and do who-knows-what.  The movie "Funny Games" suddenly appeared in my thoughts and my brain kind of peed itself.  Three, is the question "Are they friends of my son?" and simultaneously realizing I don't know them.  None of these thoughts did anything to negate my growing nervousness, nor quash my ever-rapidly-increasing heart beat.

"We want candy."  Only the tall, thin one was speaking.  This only added to my anxiety.

"You're not getting anything.  You have to leave now."

And this next sentence was the sentence that took this whole experience to a new level of freaky for me.

"We don't want to murder you.  We just want candy."

You'd have to hear it to understand just how creepy and awful and passively threatening it was. My first thought was "We don't want to murder you" doesn't necessarily mean "we won't be murdering you".  It just means they don't "want" to murder you, but they will, if they don't get candy.

"Okay, I'm calling the police."

A few more moments of more of the same lack of ground-gaining from either party.  They insisting on getting candy, and me insisting on this being enough now.

Then they leave, and walk down the driveway.  I watch them amble off across the street and into the yard of a neighbour.  I go and get my cell-phone, ready to dial if I see anything untoward.  I may have actually thought the word "untoward" in my brain at that moment.  I wondered if this event would warrant a 911 call or should I call another number?  What would that other number be?

They come back to the street and walk up to another neighbour's house, walk up to their veranda - I ready to call 911, even if it didn't warrant ti - and then the tall one picked up something off the veranda and walked back to the street.  They start back toward my house.

I am so ready to call 911.  i see he has a pumpkin.  A good sized pumpkin.  "Okay, it's going through one of our windows" I think. I brace myself for this.

But then, at the end of the driveway, he lifts the pumpkin over his head and throws it onto our pavement.  It breaks into pieces.  They wander off, up the street.

I watch them until I can't see them anymore.  Then I watch them for another couple of minutes.

Then I go and check the back door.  It was locked.

Then I go to bed and try to get my heart to stop beating, and feel kind of embarrassed for having my heart beating so much at what turned out to be a non-event.

Happy Halloween!

Letter To My 16 Year Old Self

Saw this Dear Me Celebrity Extracts on The Guardian website, and thought I’d give it a go.  Not the Charlottetown The Guardian, but the British The Guardian.

Dear Robert,
It’s you, from the year 2011.  You’re now over 45 years old.  For the most part, only your Mom and someone named Linda call you Robert anymore.  Now, people call you “The Situation”. (This is a joke that you won’t understand until you get to be my age.  And even then, you won’t find it that funny.  Nobody calls you The Situation.  The Situation is, obviously, a name nobody will ever be called).  No, most everyone calls you “Rob”.  For some reason, you decide to drop the “ert” in your first year of university.
So, other than telling you about your name-shortening (which I just did), I’m going to speak in generalizations so that the time-line doesn’t get altered too much, because I’m pretty content with the place I’m at right now, and don’t want to mess that up too much.
So, the first thing to know is this:  You turn out pretty good, I think.  Got a few issues to work out, but who doesn’t.

In no particular order:

- In a couple of years, if you find yourself hemming and hawing about it, GO to that Doug & The Slugs concert.  Won’t say why, exactly, but it turns out pretty good for you, long-term.

- The biggest piece of advice I can give you - and this may fuck everything up for me/us in 2011 - is for you to be more forthcoming with speaking your opinion.  Don’t let your shyness influence who you are. Speak out and become more engaged.  You’ll soon be going to a party with a few friends at a cottage - it’s the same party where you discover the awesomeness of putting peanut butter on hot dogs - and, I implore you, don’t be so afraid to talk to the girls that are there.

- I know you have no expectation or even desire for this right now, but you’re going to make a pretty decent number of people laugh over the years. In this regard, I ask of you this: maintain perspective.  Don’t let anything go to your head.

- There will come a night when you and a friend from university go out, with the intention of drinking, partying, etc.  When that night arrives, I implore you... DO NOT drink so much tequila so quickly.  Otherwise, your night will end at 8:45, and you will have discovered that vomit ruins bibles.

- Don’t stop playing tennis.  And don’t eat so many potato chips.  I’ll not say why these two items are together, but if you use your brain, you can figure out what I may be hinting at.

- Start a band.  Not doing so will be a life-long “jeez, I shoulda...” disappointment.

Finally, just be yourself.  If you decide to ignore most of these suggestions, no problem, you’ll still turn out pretty good, I’d say.

Sincerely,
You, from 30 years in the future.

Letter To My 16 Year Old Self

Saw this Dear Me Celebrity Extracts on The Guardian website, and thought I’d give it a go.  Not the Charlottetown The Guardian, but the British The Guardian.

Dear Robert,
It’s you, from the year 2011.  You’re now over 45 years old.  For the most part, only your Mom and someone named Linda call you Robert anymore.  Now, people call you “The Situation”. (This is a joke that you won’t understand until you get to be my age.  And even then, you won’t find it that funny.  Nobody calls you The Situation.  The Situation is, obviously, a name nobody will ever be called).  No, most everyone calls you “Rob”.  For some reason, you decide to drop the “ert” in your first year of university.
So, other than telling you about your name-shortening (which I just did), I’m going to speak in generalizations so that the time-line doesn’t get altered too much, because I’m pretty content with the place I’m at right now, and don’t want to mess that up too much.
So, the first thing to know is this:  You turn out pretty good, I think.  Got a few issues to work out, but who doesn’t.

In no particular order:

- In a couple of years, if you find yourself hemming and hawing about it, GO to that Doug & The Slugs concert.  Won’t say why, exactly, but it turns out pretty good for you, long-term.

- The biggest piece of advice I can give you - and this may fuck everything up for me/us in 2011 - is for you to be more forthcoming with speaking your opinion.  Don’t let your shyness influence who you are. Speak out and become more engaged.  You’ll soon be going to a party with a few friends at a cottage - it’s the same party where you discover the awesomeness of putting peanut butter on hot dogs - and, I implore you, don’t be so afraid to talk to the girls that are there.

- I know you have no expectation or even desire for this right now, but you’re going to make a pretty decent number of people laugh over the years. In this regard, I ask of you this: maintain perspective.  Don’t let anything go to your head.

- There will come a night when you and a friend from university go out, with the intention of drinking, partying, etc.  When that night arrives, I implore you... DO NOT drink so much tequila so quickly.  Otherwise, your night will end at 8:45, and you will have discovered that vomit ruins bibles.

- Don’t stop playing tennis.  And don’t eat so many potato chips.  I’ll not say why these two items are together, but if you use your brain, you can figure out what I may be hinting at.

- Start a band.  Not doing so will be a life-long “jeez, I shoulda...” disappointment.

Finally, just be yourself.  If you decide to ignore most of these suggestions, no problem, you’ll still turn out pretty good, I’d say.

Sincerely,
You, from 30 years in the future.

Miss USA, Prettiest of the Morons

I happened upon a couple of minutes near the end of the Miss USA pageant last night.  Normally I wouldn't watch such claptrap, but they were at the "ask the beauties about themselves and see if they can construct sentences" portion of the show, so I had to see how they did.

Most of it was pretty vapid.  And I don't mean Human-levels of vapidness, I'm talkin' a vapidness that surpasses even Beauty-Pageant-levels of vapid.
Just moronic, the answers were.

The highlight lowlight for me was Miss California.  

(side note:  look at this picture.  She looks like an Alien monster.  Seriously.  This is supposed to be the epitome of American beauty?)

She was asked to expand on her apparent infatuation with history.  What is it about history that you like?

She said she really likes history, is "a huge history buff", and is totally obsessed with the Tudor and Stuart era.  I thought this was a rather specific and odd statement, but, okay, she likes that period of English history.  Okay.

Then she said we can always find her in the history section at the Barnes and Noble. Nothing wrong with that.

Then came the home-run: To reiterate her love of history, she said she watches a lot of TV, like Game Of Thrones and Camelot.

Let me repeat that:  As examples of history-based TV programs she watches, she singles out Game Of Thrones and Camelot.

Okay, I can forgive Camelot, even though practically everything about the King Arthur legend is pure speculation.  

But there's no excuse for putting Game Of Thrones in any category even close to "history".

 (the historically accurate map of Eastern Doesnotexist)

To her credit, she did quickly realize her own stupidity, and backtracked saying she realized those shows were more fantasy. But that doesn't negate the fact that she mentioned them as examples of history-based TV shows she likes. Moron.

Then, as if to re-prove how smart she was, and to prove that she did, in fact, watch programs of historical significance, she said she did watch and love shows like The Tudors.

The Tudors.  

I derive joy thinking that she believes The Tudors is in any significant way historically accurate.  

I further imagine that she gets her knowledge of French/Gallic history from Asterix and Obelix comics.

I also imagine that, in 400 years, her great great great great great grand-moron will one day declare her love of history, saying she's obsessed with the Julia Roberts era of history, and loves watching history shows like Desperate Housewives.

Miss USA, Prettiest of the Morons

I happened upon a couple of minutes near the end of the Miss USA pageant last night.  Normally I wouldn't watch such claptrap, but they were at the "ask the beauties about themselves and see if they can construct sentences" portion of the show, so I had to see how they did.

Most of it was pretty vapid.  And I don't mean Human-levels of vapidness, I'm talkin' a vapidness that surpasses even Beauty-Pageant-levels of vapid.
Just moronic, the answers were.

The highlight lowlight for me was Miss California.  

(side note:  look at this picture.  She looks like an Alien monster.  Seriously.  This is supposed to be the epitome of American beauty?)

She was asked to expand on her apparent infatuation with history.  What is it about history that you like?

She said she really likes history, is "a huge history buff", and is totally obsessed with the Tudor and Stuart era.  I thought this was a rather specific and odd statement, but, okay, she likes that period of English history.  Okay.

Then she said we can always find her in the history section at the Barnes and Noble. Nothing wrong with that.

Then came the home-run: To reiterate her love of history, she said she watches a lot of TV, like Game Of Thrones and Camelot.

Let me repeat that:  As examples of history-based TV programs she watches, she singles out Game Of Thrones and Camelot.

Okay, I can forgive Camelot, even though practically everything about the King Arthur legend is pure speculation.  

But there's no excuse for putting Game Of Thrones in any category even close to "history".

 (the historically accurate map of Eastern Doesnotexist)

To her credit, she did quickly realize her own stupidity, and backtracked saying she realized those shows were more fantasy. But that doesn't negate the fact that she mentioned them as examples of history-based TV shows she likes. Moron.

Then, as if to re-prove how smart she was, and to prove that she did, in fact, watch programs of historical significance, she said she did watch and love shows like The Tudors.

The Tudors.  

I derive joy thinking that she believes The Tudors is in any significant way historically accurate.  

I further imagine that she gets her knowledge of French/Gallic history from Asterix and Obelix comics.

I also imagine that, in 400 years, her great great great great great grand-moron will one day declare her love of history, saying she's obsessed with the Julia Roberts era of history, and loves watching history shows like Desperate Housewives.

Rob's Seven-Word Review of "Source Code"

Starring Jake Gyllenhaal, Michelle Monaghan, Vera Farmiga & Jeffrey Wright

My review: Well-performed sci-fi. Wright's character misses. Pretty eyes.