To Hell With Real Football

While I did watch the Vikings/Saints game last weekend, it was against my better judgement.  I cried the last tear I was ever gonna cry over that god forsaken team before I turned 17.  Since then, I’ve wished the Purple People Eaters well but I refuse to get emotionally involved with them ever again.  The previous two posts by Andy and Whubbs validate my decision back in 1977 to cut them out of my heart, forever.

Why waste time and trouble on the NFL when I can have so much more fun watching Friday Night Lights?

This show is as close to seeing Chip Hilton on the screen as we’re ever going to get.  Different characters take turns playing Chip but the same dynamics are at work;  God, country, family, character and ethics all being expressed on the field of play. 

My daughter gave me season 1 on dvd for Christmas and in one month I’ve burned through the first three seasons.

I’ve been around athletics all my life.  I know coaches at every level, from peewees to the pros and I’ve seen a lot. (I’ve seen way too much to ever think I’ve seen it all).  I’ve known people who’ve lived through nearly every scenario on the show.  If we handled our problems with the grace of Coach Taylor or the wisdom of his wife Tami, the world would be  a much better place.

In discussing the show with my sister, she happened to say that Coach Taylor was the coolest character, ever.  She described him as “Tommy Gavin, if he’d been raised right.”

This reminded me of a conversation last summer when two of my brothers almost came to fisticuffs because one said Captain James T. Kirk was the single coolest tv character of all time and the other disagreed.  Bill didn’t say that Kirk wasn’t cool, he just questioned whether or not Kirk was the coolest of all time and Andy was ready to throw down.

Since then, I’ve been watching the original Star Trek series.  I have to say, Andy has a point.  Forget Denny Crane or the Priceline ads.  Forget Shatner and all that the name conjures up. 

Captain Kirk was frikkin’ awesome.

  He was something you almost never see anymore, especially not on tv; an Alpha Male.  A man’s man who knew right from wrong and had the confidence to enforce it, sometimes on whole worlds, unilaterally.  Kirk was a grown up with no fear of responsibility. In one episode, while telling an entire culture to sit up and behave, someone asked him “who do you think you are?” and he answered “who do I have to be?”

The Fonz could start a juke box with a thump of his fist but would he threaten to annihilate two planets with his superior fire power unless they agreed to fight each other man to man?

I think not.

But at the risk of incurring Andy’s wrath, I’m going to reserve judgement on “Coolest Character Ever”.  I’ll just say that any top five that doesn’t feature Kirk is talking out of it’s ass.

There have been a lot of interesting characters on tv.  But Cool?  Coolest?

Tony Soprano.  Certainly a leader.  Very interesting.  Not cool.  He cried in front of his therapist, fercrisakes.  He had others do his killing for him.  And I think you lose your alpha male standing if you’re scared of your mom. (There’s another list;  worst tv mom’s of all time!*)

Vince Mackey.  Again, a leader.  But he always leads his crew in the wrong direction.  He lost his moral compass very early on and although he believes he’s working for the betterment of society, he’ll do anything to cover his own ass.

Tommy Gavin.  Not cool.  At all.  He’s tough and funny and made of gold under the thick layer of crap he insists on covering himself in.  Has the raw material to be a leader but never wants to go anywhere anyone wants to follow. 

House.  Being cool is not the same as being a jerk.

These four examples are characters I dearly love to watch but here’s the thing; if I knew any of them in real life, I would run whenever I saw them coming.  The really, truly cool characters are the ones I’d like to hang out with.

Obviously, everyone has different ideas of who the coolest tv characters are and it all depends on what shows you  watch.  Without giving it too much thought, here’s my list of the five coolest tv characters ever, in no particular order, along with a quote that I think sums up their character and why I love them so.

1. Captain James T. “Who do I have to be?” Kirk

2. Captain Malcom “If I fight a war, I guarantee you’ll see something new” Reynolds

3. Special Agent Fox “How do I get it off my fingers quickly without betraying my cool exterior?” Mulder

4. Gabriel “because you’re here and I need to express myself” Gray

5. Coach Eric “Clear eyes, full heart; can’t lose!” Taylor.

Hmmm.  I seem to have a thing for a man with a title.  Not only that, but my only exception is Gabriel Gray, who not only doesn’t have a title but is a sociopathic killer.  I still want to hang out with him.  He’s too funny and he does actually have a code of honor.  Bottom line; I don’t think he’d kill me.  Obviously, I like sci-fi.  Can I help it if that’s where all the best characters are?

There are very few cool female characters.   I could only think of three that I think are cool and two are from the same show.

1. Special Agant Dana “Sure. Fine. Whatever.” Scully

2. First Officer Zoe “Next time I’m just gonna watch” Washburne

3. River “I can kill you with my brain” Tam

*Worst tv moms ever;

5. Judy Gellar

4. Teena Mulder

3. Livia Soprano

2. Lucille Bluth

1. Nancy Botwin

Okay, I’m totally embarrassed that I forgot Jack Bauer.  Clearly, obviously he’s top five.  In fact, I think he’s probably #1 in being cool, keeping his cool, never shirking his duty, taking responsibility for his actions, belief in God, Country and Honor, knowing right from wrong and inspiring greatness in others…  But I don’t want to hang out with him.  He’s a little  too scary.

Published in: on January 30, 2010 at 9:27 pm  Comments (2)  

Gravity Storm

By Wingnut

I”m confused by gravity.

Not the Newtonion physics of it; I get “what goes up must come down” and the whole inertia thing.  I’ve seen Dancing with the Stars, I understand bodies in motion.  And not Einstein’s relativity gig.  E=mc2 is heavy stuff but the idea of large bodies bending space makes sense to me.  I’ve felt the whooosh of a  semi go past on the highway.  Gravity.

No, what I mean is; what the hell’s going on with my face?

Yes, I’m aware that I am firmly ensconsed in middle age.  Heck, in six short years I’ll qualify for the senior disount!  Can’t wait, by the way.  My cheapness far outstrips my vanity.

I really don’t have a huge complaint with my face.  I use sunscreen, I avoid UV rays when ever possible, I moisturize.  I even sleep on my back, as beauty experts advise; sleeping on one’s face causes one’s skin to fall in unbecoming folds.

So why is the Crypt Keeper peering back at me from the bathroom mirror every morning? 

Easy answer; because I’m old.

But it doesn’t last.  By the time I’ve had my fill of the magic elixer known as coffee, the CK is gone.  I look ten years older first thing in the morning than I do for the rest of the day, which doesn’t make sense, seeing as I’m actually younger first thing in the morning than I ever will be again.

Hence my confusion.

Maybe it’s not gravity that confuses me.  Maybe it’s the whole time/space continuum.  Maybe I’m actually older first thing in the morning than I ever will be again.  Like Merlin, maybe I’m aging backwards, but only over the course of each day.

Maybe I just need more coffee.

Published in: on October 21, 2009 at 1:37 am  Comments (2)  

Manly Movie Deaths

By Wingnut

I was bopping around on line yesterday when I came across some website that listed the Top Ten Manly Movie Deaths.  I’m not going to link to the site because the list was stupid and besides, I don’t remember what it was called.

The important point here is that the list was lame.  Getting killed out of stupidity or because you’re coked up and the cops are after you doesn’t fit my idea of a manly death.    On that list, the only two I agreed with were Mel Gibson’s death in Braveheart and Obi Wan Kenobi’s death in Star Wars.

It took my son and me about two minutes to come up with our favorite Manly Movie Deaths.  Here they are, in no particular order;

1. Bruce Willis in Armageddon.  Sure, Ben Affleck could’ve saved the world too, but not Liv Tyler’s happiness. 

2. Butch and Sundance.  They didn’t save the world and they knew their chances were slim, but BY GOD they died with their boots on. 

3. Miles Dyson, the computer genius in Terminator II; Judgement Day; all shot up and holding the weight over the detonator?  MANLY.  Saved the world as surely as Bruce Willis in Armageddon.

4. Boromir in The Fellowship of the Ring;  he went down full of arrows trying to protect those weaker than himself, confessed his sins, pledged his allegiance and died like a man.

5. Leonides in 300.  Watch the movie.  So manly it could change a lesbian’s mind.

6. Vincini in The Princess Bride.  He died LAUGHING.

7. Col. Robert Shaw in Glory.  I know, played by Matthew Broderick but one of the manliest deaths ever filmed.

8. Mel Gibson in Braveheart, duh.

9. Jesus in the Passion of the Christ.  Disagree?  Go to hell.

10. The cast of United 93.  Let’s Roll.  

Guys who didn’t make the top ten; Brian Picollo, cuz he didn’t have a choice; Obi Wan, cuz what did he really accomplish by dying that he couldn’t have done alive? and Yukon Cornelius because bumbles bounce.

Then we started tossing about the Top Ten Pussiest Deaths in the movies.   Also known as the Darwin Award Oscars.  Here’s our start;

1. Hans Gruber.  There’s something about falling that is inherently pussy.

2. The Lawyer from Jurrasic Park.  Eaten by a T-Rex while sitting on a toilet.  I can think of worse deaths but none more undignified.

3. The Director from Tropic Thunder who got blown to smithereens by his own special effects.

4. The Grampa in Everything’s Illuminated because suicide is usually a pussy move.

5. Hugh Jackman’s character in The Prestige because he failed to realize what he was doing. 

6. Everyone who died in the last two minutes of The Departed, which is still a pretty good movie.

7. All the drummers for Spinal Tap.  Sure it was by design and we didn’t get to see it, but still.  Totally pussy deaths.

8. Kurt Russel in Death Proof.  I’m assuming that the three chicks beat him to death.  He deserved it.

That’s all I’ve got.

Talk amongst yourselves.

Published in: on July 11, 2009 at 6:22 pm  Comments (8)  

Ticket Czar is more like it

If I ever die and go to Hell, I fully expect my place to be held by a ticket available only through Ticketmaster.  What other corporate entity can assure that one’s stay for eternity will be frustrating, enraging, humiliating and ultimately futile?  Tears are guaranteed.

  My daughter wants to go to an annual outdoor concert put on by our Church as a fundraiser.  The Basilica Block party  began as a really good idea by Fr. Mike O’Connell to raise money for the refurbishment of our 100 year old church and has become the Must-See Musical Event and a  Summer staple for tens of thousands of music lovers from all over the country.  Each year we now raise almost enough money to pay the winter heating bill. 

Anyway, as the event grew, so did the logistics.  What used to be a ‘buy your tickets after Mass downstairs at the coffee and donut table’ parish event is now a behemoth only TicketMaster is equipped to handle.  You can buy a ticket for Friday or Saturday night or both, at a slight discount.  You can also get a few bucks knocked off the price if you buy before July 1. According to the ad we picked up on Sunday, if you buy a block of six tickets you can get a further discount.  My daughter and a bunch of her cousins wanted to go so with a few phone calls to establish which night they wanted, I volunteered to buy the tickets.

No biggie, right?  I’m already online and I know everyone’s good for the money.

I should get a medal or at least a few indulgences for what I then went through.

First, I had to log onto www.abandonallhopeyewhoenterhere.com.  I thought that was a weird url for ticketmaster but that’s only because I’d just started.

Once at the site, it was child’s play to choose which night I wanted and how many tickets; all the discounts were right there on the page.  Easy!  Then I went to fill in my billing info.  This seemed to be going swimmingly, as well.  Once I’d gotten all my numbers into the proper slots, I was shunted to a security page held in conjunction with my bank and ticketmaster, to assure that no one but me was using my card.  Again, I was asked to fill in my info then “click activate now to continue”.

There was no “activate now” to click.  I looked high and low on that web page, there was nothing to click on that said “activate now.”  I had the kids in the house come and check out the web page to see if “activate now” was hidden in some obscure print unreadable to people over 40.  I dragged my neighbors over to look at the page.  I ran out in the street and offered a dollar to anyone who could find the “activate now” thingy so I could click it.

Everyone agreed that there was no “activate now”.

The whole time I was searching for “activate now”,  a banner at the top of the page was warning me that if I hit “refresh” or the “back” button, I would lose my place in line and the tickets I had ordered might be sold to someone else.  Not only that, but a large orange digital clock was ticking next to my credit info letting me know just how much time I had left on that page.

First they make you fill in your credit numbers two or three times, then they warn you not to refresh, then they tease you with non existant “activate now” buttons and the whole time they’re screaming “ONE MINUTE AND TEN…NINE…EIGHT…SECONDS TIL YOU’RE A LOSER!!!!!”  All this in front of your adolescent daughter who just wants to go to a concert and trusts you to be able to buy her a ticket.

Ticket Master?  Ticket Dominatrix, maybe.

Totally fed up with cyber space, I perused the ad from church again and sure enough found an 800 number which I promptly called.

TicketMasterof Darkness wasn’t through with me.  I immediately connected to what I can only describe as a perky, friendly, mentally retarded robot afflicted with glossalalia.

“Hello!” she chirped “Welcome to Ticket Master!  If you know the event you would like to purchase tickets to, you may say the name and date and promotors mother’s maiden name NOW.  If you would like to hear the listings for every event in the northern hemisphere in alphabetical order, say “saskatoon saskatchewan” NOW.   If you want to know…”

“BASILICA BLOCK PARTY!” I yelled, realizing that I was waiting for her to take a breath she didn’t need.

“Good.” the robot crooned.  “Please tell me the name of the city and state and state flower and name of the Lt. Governor’s wife…”

“Minneee-apo-lis-Minnee-soe-tah” I carefully pronounced.

“Good.”  the robot sang.  “The Basilica Block Party is a a musical concert event put on by the Basilica of St. Mary in Minneapolis, Minnesota to raise money to…”

“SATURDAY!”   I hollered, as I was worried that I might fall asleep or just forget what the hell I was trying to do while Ms. Roboto droned on and on about stuff I didn’t care about and already knew anyway.

“Gooood.” she purred. “The Basilica Block Party will be held on two nights.  Please tell me if you would like to attend both nights, beginning on Friday, July 10 at 5:30 pm and continuing…”

“JULY 11.”  I cut her off.

“Or on July 10.” she suggested.

“No.  I want six tickets..” I tried to explain.

“July 10.” she ordered.

“NO!” and then I yelled something else.  The line went blank for a few seconds.

“Please hold while I connect you with an actual human style representative of the human race since you can’t seem to figure out what it is that you want to do or buy or listen to and what is up with your hair?”  the robot chirped away, saying as little as possible in the most amount of words.

Leave it to Ticketmonster to program a robot who loves to hear herself talk.

I was put on hold for about five minutes.  The gal was completely uninterested in my complaints about the fatally flawed web page and the non-existance of the ‘activate now’ button but she understood exactly what I wanted; six tickets for the block party for Saturday night, at the discount price of $29.17 a piece, to be emailed immediately so I could print them out at home.

“You’re all set.” she said.  “Your final price comes to $220.20.”

“It DOES?”  I squealed. I’m no math whiz but I’m pretty sure 6×29 is less than 220.  I’m pretty sure that 6×30 is only 180 and I’m pretty sure 30 is more than 29. Pretty sure.

“That includes the TicketMauler fee of $6.50 per ticket.  What, you didn’t think we provide this service for free, did you?  Grow up.”

That’s right.  For only $6.50 per ticket you get the inestimable pleasure of taking forty five minutes to do what should take three minutes, TOPS but at least a woman in Bangalore tells you to grow up.  So, she wasn’t as syrupy sweet as the robot.  She was a lot easier to deal with.

“Yeah, but that brings each ticket to $35.67, six times which is still less than $220.00.  How do you account for the other six bucks?”  Hah.  I may be a stupid American but I do have a calculator.

“Well, you didn’t want to pay $17.54 to have them UPS’d to your house in no less than fourteen business days.”

“Of course not, that’s a ridiculous amount and the show is in ten days. You’re sending me E-tickets online. So what’s with the six bucks?”

“That’s the ‘convenience charge’.”

Published in: on July 1, 2009 at 1:02 am  Comments (2)  

Late Night TV

I got sucked in last night to a show on the Learning Channel about Dede, the treeman.  I couldn’t look away.  Here’s this poor guy, minding his own business, being a human and the next thing you know, he’s growing what looks like tree roots where his hands and feet are supposed to be.

That’s messed up.

Turns out what ails him is a wart virus run amok.  Those horns growing out of his palms, soles and head are giant warts. 

Grossed out much?

The article I’ve linked to says that local doctors were stumped.

No shit.  We’re talking about a part of the world where migraines are caused by demonic possession, I can’t believe they’d look at tree man and say “Dude, get some Compound W.”

In fact, his doctors have been surgically removing the warts which grew back almost as fast as they could cut.  It took an American dermatologist to figure that until they could kill the virus causing the warts, poor old Dede would keep sprouting branches.

The story had a happy ending.  Dede underwent chemo to kill off the virus, it seemed to work and now he’s scarred but fairly normal looking with functional extremities.

Even in Indonesia, Dede is pretty darn lucky he’s alive in the 21 century.  A hundred years ago, folks would’ve thought he’d crossed a witch or committed some unforgivable crime and social ostracism would’ve been the better of his choices.  Stoning or burning would’ve been more likely.

After that show ended, I had to watch the next thing which was about two cases of people who suffered undiagnosable ailments.  One was a woman who suffered debilitating headaches, which escalated into a racing heart and heavy sweating and finally into fits of violent rage.  Turns out the poor thing had a tumor on her adrenal gland that was causing her body to pour huge amounts of the stuff into her system almost constantly.

What bothered me most about that case was that after two or three doctors told this chick it was just stress and to chill, she gave up.  Despite her husband begging her to continue to seek medical help, she decided that pain and anger were simply her lot in life. 

That’s just stupid.

Sure, it would be frustrating to have your doctor dismiss your symptoms, but nine out of ten times, the doc is probably right.  When you know there’s something wrong with you, refusing to seek medical help because your first doctor was a douche is stubborn and spiteful.    In the meantime, her kid’s childhoods were ruined and her first husband left her.

I found it interesting that he left the kids with pyscho-Mom.  WTF?

She suffered this way for sixteen years before finally finding a decent doctor and now she’s okay. 

The second half of the show was about a young man who’s now 18, who suffers from what can best be described as an acute allergy to sunshine.  It took his parents and doctors about seven years to figure this out.  I figured it out after the second incident at the community pool when he was a baby, but I had the advantage of knowing it was some weird-ass thing no one’s ever heard of.

Again, I’m impressed by the similarity of this youngster’s illness and mythology, this time of vampires.

There’s probably not much in our collective stories of monsters, gods and super heroes that didn’t come from the outer edges of medical reality, which is the premise that M. Night Shamalanamganadaa based “Unbreakable” on.  Too bad he’s such a crappy director; that should’ve been a really good movie.

The bottom line is I stayed up way too late and all I got for it was dangerously little information on a subject I know nothing about.

I love it when that happens.

Published in: on May 29, 2009 at 3:26 am  Comments (1)  

I Remember When Swine Flew…

by wingnut

Dont’ panic. 

 There’s  no need for hysteria. 

Just wash your hands, cover your mouth when you sneeze and calmly, collectively, run for your lives.

That’s how the newsmedia covers the fact that people get sick these days.  I know, I know; folks in Mexico have actually died from this stuff.  Yeah.  People from Mexico have been known to  pack their babies into the trunks of cars with enough food to survive a week in the Arizona desert so as to  sneak over the U.S. border.  You think one of the reasons they’re willing to run such risks is because Mexico has such great health care?  I don’t know about those Cubans who are apparently willing to cross 90 miles of shark infested water in an inner tube just to escape their great state run health care system.  All I’m sayin’ is that I’m unaware that Ted Kennedy went to either Cuba or Mexico to treat his cancer.

I’m sick.  Call it swine flu, mexican flu, bird flu, undocumented flu or SARS, I’m  sick to death.  Sick of the hysteria, fear mongering and overblown rhetoric every time somebody, somewhere, gets sick and dies.

Was there ever a time when no one on earth was in danger of dying from something?  It wasn’t so long ago that the common cold killed a lot of people.  Think about the last time you had a cold.  Now imagine trying to survive ten days of that without the benefit of aspirin, sudaphed, nyquil or contac.  You would be praying for the sweet release of death. 

George Washington survived samllpox without the benefits of any of those pharmaceuticals. 

There was a swine flu outbreak and accompanying hysteria back when I was in high school.  I remember SNL even did a skit about it.  I had a bad cold that spring that lasted for months.  As far as I know, I may have been the only American who was sick at all during that epidemic.

What’s the difference between “epidemic” and “pandemic” anyway?  I looked the terms up and “epidemic” basically means ” lots of sick folks” and “pandemic” means “even scarier than ‘epidemic'”. 

As I write this, the news is reporting that one case of swine flu in Minnesota has them raising the “pandemic” alert to the highest level.  My god, what will we do, what will we call it if there were ever three cases in the state??

There has always been death and disease and there always will be.  I just wish  the media wasn’t constantly screaming “look out, we’re all gonna die!!”  I keep hoping that someday there will be a story whose coverage is marked with perspective and circumspection.  But I guess that’ll happen when pigs fly.

Published in: on May 4, 2009 at 10:39 pm  Leave a Comment  

Of Penises and Pirates

So I’m watching CNN, which is my first mistake, and the talking heads are talking about the poor unfortunate sea captain has been captured by pirates.   No one knows what to do.

No one knows what to do?

ABOUT PIRATES?

Hi, could we just watch  Pirates of the Caribbean again, please?  What one does with pirates, is one shoots them on sight.  I mean, yeah, I love Cap’n Jack Sparrow.  Cap’n Jack  Sparrow is a friend of mine.  These real life pirates are not Cap’n Jack Sparrow.  They don’t prance about like Keith Richards bringing madcap hilarity to the sea.  They kill people.  They are no good.  They are taking on British and U.S. naval vessels and winning only because we let them.

So let’s all  quit dickin’ around and just shoot ’em.

Oh, it’s not like you’d have to shoot all the pirates!  Just blow a couple of boats out of the water as they approach a ship flying our flag and I’m willing to bet the bailout money you won’t be seeing too many more pirate ships bothering the good law abiding citizens of the sea.

But no, the CNN talking heads never went there.  They really can not figure out what to do.

So an ad comes on.  There’s a smarmy looking fella holding up a little blue and white pill.

“I’ll bet you thought male enhancement was just a myth,”  he coos into the camera. “Not anymore!  This amazing little pill…”

He kept talking  but  I stopped listening.

I turned to my male who needs no enhancing and said “we’ve forgotten how to deal with pirates but at least we’ve discovered how to ad a quarter inch to the penis.  If the human race is doomed, it’s all we deserve.”

“It’s Apaches against gladiators on ‘Deadliest Warrior’ tonight.” he replied.

Sweet!

Published in: on April 15, 2009 at 7:54 pm  Comments (3)  

The Looooove Shack

By Wingnut

A friend of mine recently lent me her copy of the book “The Shack”.

“It’s wonderful!” she said.  “It’s about a guy who spends a weekend in a cabin with God.”

Sweet.  I like books about God.  Y’know, the bible and stuff?  Okay, I’ve never actually read the bible, but I’ve seen some of the movies and they rocked.  The Ten Commandments, Ben Hur, The Passion of the Christ.  I feeeeel like I’ve read the bible.  Heck after watching The Passion, I felt like I’d been beaten with it. (editor’s note: that’s what she said.)

Seriously though, some of my favorite books of all time are about God and people’s relationship with Him so The Shack seemed like a good bet for me.

I’ve read The Robe, by Lloyd C. Douglas, at least four times and I loved it every time. It’s my favorite depiction of Jesus in fiction and He’s not even in it.  What you get is a description of Him  from His friends and followers.  The portrait that emerges is one of a man of great charisma,  humor, compassion and wisdom.   By the end of the book you totally buy why His followers would follow Him through Hell to Heaven.

Heaven’s Own by David West is a book I’ve read more times than I can count, including aloud to my kids.  They love it, too.  It’s the story of six year old Danny, who has a bone to pick with God.  He gets a chance to visit Heaven, sneak into Hell, go nose to nose with the Devil and get some answers from God.  It’s a brilliant book that deals with loss, acceptance, what Heaven and Hell mean and how we, as individuals  see God and most of all, how God loves each of us.  It also ends with the best joke I’ve ever heard.  Unfortunately it seems to be out of print.

Illusions by Richard Bach is also apparently out of print.  I love this book.  It doesn’t claim to be about God, but it is.  The Master in the story is very philosophical and wise.  I don’t remember what happens in it and I seem to have lost my copy but I do remember a few of the things the Master said, like “fight for your limitations and sure enough; they’re yours.”

Finally there’s The Shadow on the Earth, by Owen Francis Dudley.  This is one of my favorite books of all and one of the three that most influenced my thinking.  This was written in 1926.  My parents had a copy that was forty years old when I read it for the first time, thirty years ago.  The Shadow on the Earth deals with human pain and suffering and is written as an argument against the prevailing cultural philosophies of the day.  The story is wonderful and the book is awe-inspiring.  Naturally it’s been out of print forever.

I was looking forward to The Shack.  I guess it’s a huge bestseller.

I should’ve remembered that the Jonas Brother’s are a huge best seller, too.  For an old Beatlemaniac like me, they’re not so great.

The Shack belongs on a shelf with the Jonas Brothers.

Too many words!  Young should read some Hemmingway to see how a story can be told with an economy of words to pack more power.  Charles Dickens could get away with using two paragraphs to describe a door but if you aren’t Dickens, you shouldn’t even try. (editor’s note: someone told me he got paid by the word. I don’t know if that’s true or not and I’m too lazy to google it.)

Not only that, but the story is irritating.  First, let’s tug on your heartstrings, really really hard.  Then, once you’re all lubed up with tears, we’ll shove your head really really high up your own back door where you’ll find a Holy Trinity who spouts one insipid inanity after another. 

Note to the author, William P. Young;  if you’re going to write a novel featuring a well known historical figure, such as, say…JESUS, it’s probably a good idea to acquaint yourself with the historic record.  Jesus’ teaching style isn’t exactly a secret.  For credibility’s sake you should stick to it.  But no, as with too many modern folk, Young rewrites God in his own flacid image. Well, I haven’t met Young, but I’m guessing. 

One of the stupid things Young’s God says is, the world would be a less violent place if women were in charge.

You know, I hear this a lot. 

I know a few women. 

I disagree.

I think I’ll write a ‘true story’ about Rosa Parks, the latino who sparked the women’s movement when he refused to give up his seat on the space shuttle.

Published in: on March 27, 2009 at 2:42 am  Leave a Comment  

Worms, Everywhere!

Despite the warnings of some of my fellow posters here at DAK, or perhaps because of them, I accepted an old friend’s invitation to join her on Facebook.  Yep.  I opened that can.

My children are appalled.  One son has already told me not to even ask to be his facebook friend, the answer is no.  He as much as admitted that he’s writing porn there. 

My daughter told me to be careful who I let be my friend.  She said “don’t say yes to anyone you wouldn’t be friends with in real life.  It’s not a popularity contest.”  This, from a girl with 362 friends.  That’s not friendly, that’s downright slutty.

My husband is appalled.  The morning after I opened my account, our email was flooded with friend confirmations and chat.  When I told him they were for me, he looked disgusted and just shook his head.  Then he asked me if I’d at least gotten a receipt from Satan.

“Why?” I asked.  “Are we looking for more deductions?”

Okay, he’s not the one who really said that and I’m not the one who came up with that answer.  Facebook; a new way to steal punchlines from your friends.

My parents aren’t appalled but only because they don’t know what I’ve done.

How bad can it be?  I’ve already with-held my friendship from some people I’ve never heard of before.  I can say “no” if I have to.  I’ve honed ignoring folks to an art form over my many years of curmudgeonly solitude.  Even my friends never call me anymore!  I can handle Facebook!

It’s not like I’m going to spend all my time online, answering inane requests for 25 random things about myself, or how many movies I’ve seen in the last year or what my porn name would be (Hoover Queen.  How filthy is that??).  I’m much too busy playing Spider solitaire for that.

And besides, I can quit any time I want.

Published in: on March 3, 2009 at 11:35 pm  Comments (3)  

Sunday Afternoon

“Hey, Mom.”

My nineteen-year-old son likes to stand at the stairs leading up to my office and talk to me.  “Do you have any markers?”

“I don’t have any regular magic markers, but I have these.” I held up a handful of colored sharpies.

“Nah,” he said “I don’t think those will work.  Don’t you have anything that will wash off your skin?”

“No, I don’t have any washable markers.  They don’t really wash off, anyway.  Your sister might have some, you could ask her.”

“No, I’m not gonna ask her.”

” What do you want them for, anyway?”

“She’s taking a nap on the porch and I wanted to draw on her face.”

Published in: on February 20, 2009 at 5:11 pm  Leave a Comment