September 24, 2007

Hooray for Tagging Goodness

BU tossed me a tag, and while my first inclination as a registered California voter is to be struck blind by his request for an Ah-nold presidency, I submit. The bold terms are mine, if you're having trouble understanding. Also, because I can't help it, I appended notes to some of them.

1) In a perfect world, we'd never have to hear another word from James Dobson. (note: Jack Thompson is an awesome choice, though).

2) In a perfect world, Al Gore would be president and the entirety of the Bush Administration would have never discovered politics. (I know it's obvious, but any other answer would feel incomplete.)

3) In a perfect world, all education would be free.

4) In a perfect world, GWAR would give free concerts every night members of the Christian Coalition would be forced to be their roadies. (This was tough because it was really hard to improve upon BU's answer)

5) In a perfect world, the highest paid job would be mine and benefits would include immortality. Suffer my wrath, puny mortals!

6) In a perfect world, I'd be able to go into any Court in the nation with no guilt or fear. Mostly fear.

7) In a perfect world, punching people who can't drive in the nuts wouldn't be a crime but almost nothing would have a much harsher sentence (like death). I don't believe in the death penalty, suckas!

8) In a perfect world, there wouldn't be traffic because everyone was too busy chilling the f*** out. This, um, seems to contradict my "punching people in the nuts" policy from #7.

9) In a perfect world, The Office would air a new episode every night.

10) A perfect world would require me to be sent to another planet.

September 20, 2007

Movie Remembering

Editor's Note: Saw this in my drafts; why didn't it get posted? Did it? Well, here ya go anyway...

...

With the count now more than halfway to 1100, I've still seen a lot of movies. I can remember almost every detail about some of my favorites--with maybe 2 viewings of Raising Arizona, for the little details, I bet I could recite the entire movie from beginning to end--and lots of the details about some of my most despised.*

*New entry from last night: Poseidon, which was on my Netflix list why?

But there's a category of movies that are simply... forgettable. This isn't a knock on the movie, necessarily; action and horror movies are probably best served by this trait, when they have it. It just means that once you leave, it only takes a few hours (or a good night's sleep) to wipe all but the most integral plot points from you mind. "Well, there were two people who were married and also spies for rival organizations... but I don't remember what happens in the middle."

Mr. & Mrs. Smith was definitely entertaining. I even own it on DVD (it was a bargain) but I'm still a little fuzzy on what happens in that movie. Same goes for the Bourne movies (3rd one unseen) -- the 2nd one was cool, but lord knows I can't recall how they shoehorned Julia Stiles back into the series.

I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing; nobody is saying these movies are Best Picture material, but they certainly serve their purpose.

On the other hand, some movies that maybe were made with Oscar in mind, also fall into this category. Those movies are in trouble, in my book. For instance, I had to be reminded today that Mystic River even existed. This was a Good Movie largely because the acting by some of the characters was superb. But acting is tough to remember, and the plot (dead daughter, right?) is completely vague in my head. Sure enough, it won best acting awards (Penn--I disagree--and Robbins) but didn't win any others.

It's possible that this is only the case because I'm getting old and have seen 1,054 1,066 movies. Maybe it's my brain that can't remember, and not the movies fault?

Nah. It's the movies. I have a mind like steel trap.

September 18, 2007

A New Godwin's Law?

There is an entertaining maxim about online discussion forums called Godwin's Law. It states, basically, that as an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches one.

That is to say, comparing something/someone to Hitler is basically signaling that you've checked out of the argument and are done making any real point.

I think there may be a new version of this law descending upon cyberspace. To paraphrase Godwin, it is that as an online discussion continues, the probability that someone will demand that you "read the Constitution" and/or "the Federalist Papers*".

Now, I'm a big fan of both sources. After all, if you're debating rights and governmental privilege and whathaveyou, the Constitution is pretty important.

But "read the Constitution" is such a stupid request that it pretty much kills the debate. There have been millions of scholars, writers, legislators, and armchair constitutionalists examining our government's founding documents, for more than 200 years. They have read it. Many know it by heart. And I would venture that even the most myopic among them would not assert that the Constitution is clear and unimpeachable in every aspect.

So there you are. If you argue about politics or policy, and someone tells you to go read the Constitution, you know the debate has ended (and, probably, you won).**

*The Federalist Papers are what people demand you read when they believe themselves to be experts in Constitutional law. Because nobody reads the Federalist Papers and those that do know they can be as open-ended in interpretation as the Constitution, with the added bonus of holding no legal weight whatsoever.

**Like Godwin's Law, there is an exception: if the person you are arguing with insists that, say, the freedom to assemble is in the 22nd Amendment, this is a reasonable response. However it would be easier to simply quote the Constitution, rather than direct others to it (and, ostensibly, away from the debate that you are apparently losing).

The Hitler comparison can also be used in very specific settings, such as comparing German leaders circa 1915-1950. That's pretty much it, though.

September 12, 2007

This Will Interest Maybe One of You

I saw this link (be aware, it is a 6-year-old Atlantic article and is quite long) at the very end of a funny (as always) post by Ms. Smartypants. It's a rather acerbic look at what people consider to be "great modern literature". While it is quite damning in parts, I had to say that I, in large part, agree with the sentiment.

I have only read a few of the books cited -- the author focuses mainly on three types of modern prose and three authors in particular -- but the sentiment struck a chord. Why does "great literature" have to be so densely written and, as is often the case, logically incomprehensible? If you want to wax poetic, there is an entire ocean of writing in which to swim: poetry! Metaphors and colorful descriptions that, while singularly lovely, add nothing to the narrative but allow the author to remind the reader how gifted he or she is at crafting a sentence.

Of course, I am not a literary critic by any means. The last book I started reading was stolen (along with my car, last Friday. God damn it.) but I want to read more, and articles like this one make me feel better about reading "genre" books instead of slogging through something like All the Pretty Horses again. And, as noted above, the article is 6 years old and so may not apply as much to today's literary climate.

September 11, 2007

The Most Profound Thought of September 11, 2007, Is As Follows:

Eating a sandwich with both pickles and cucumbers is disturbing on exactly 3 levels.

September 6, 2007

You Know You Like Them

This one is courtesy of the mouse.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4. What does it say?
"[it would have wrenched his] soul to have Ethan chosen last for any team. "Why?" Sarah [had asked.]

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What's there?
The frame of the window.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Something called "Between the Lions" (I think).

4. Without looking, guess what time it is:
11:25 a.m.

5. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?
11:24 a.m. The magic of billable hours makes me pretty good at that game.

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
The copier, faintly, and a hum outside which may or may not be a rooftop a/c unit.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
This morning. Walking from parking to Starbucks.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
The Guebara v. Allstate case opinion.

9. What are you wearing?
Pants and a shirt. I'm at work, yo.

10. Did you dream last night?
Probably, but I don't remember any of it.

11. When did you last laugh?
About 5 minutes ago when talking about the upcoming Detroit Lions season.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Zilch. I should probably hang up some stuff in here.

13. Seen anything weird lately?
In person? Not really. But this was pretty weird.

14. What do you think of this quiz?
Better than average.

15. What is the last film you saw?
Clerks II--wait, that wasn't a "film". I saw the Nanny Diar... that might not be one either. The Bourne Ultimatum?

16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
Honestly? The thrill of paying off all my debts in one day would be enough to keep me happy for at least a week of millionaire-ness.

17. Tell me something about you that I don't know:
I don't know who you are so that's a tough request. How about that my neck is all stiff and pained from sleeping bad on Tuesday night.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
This is a tougher question than I think it means to be. I feel like any change I would make would have a negative effect because it was made via "magic" and not through the efforts of actual people. We need to make the changes ourselves, not hope for some benevolent deity/millionaire/dictator to bestow them upon us.

19. Do you like to dance?
In public? No.

20. George Bush: .....
Utter, abject failure.

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Natasha

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Henry

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
Sure. It'd give me serious stress but I've learned to play through my own neuroses.

24. What do you want to say to God when you reach the pearly gates?
Wouldn't a better question be, what do you want God to say to you? Because I think I'd say, "Wow, you're really here, with pearly gates? Seriously? How do I know this is a legit operation?"